unplanned progress
April 30, 2013 § 2 Comments
I have spent years mapping expectations, measuring growth, anticipating need, and responding to crisis. I do this quietly, without pause. Then, without warning, a moment unplanned interrupts my anticipations, disrupting expectations and creating progress.
Over the past year my son’s demonstrations of teenage moodiness and boisterous exercises in self-expression have invited disharmony into previously peaceful family moments. Defensiveness like rungs on a ladder leave us toppling into anger and injury. Accidents of ignorance without intent to harm.
Deep sighs, eyes that pull to the sky between lids half closed, and gangly limbs arranged in lazy, dismissive postures. I read the lines of his movement without hearing the hurt beneath them.
Most days I chase behavior with lessons, attempting to create consciousness. I mirror my son’s behavior, echo his words, question the path of his choice hoping to guide him towards awareness. Last night in an effort to shift my own perspective, I became the student.
Crying and yelling my son tossed his frustration recklessly while speaking intentionally. I studied the frustrated child unraveling in front of me, setting aside my need to comfort or control, and holding tightly to the words my son chose.
Anger was sadness hiding from hurt. An absence of effort was a recognition of failure under the weight of impossible standards.
I echoed my son’s words offering validation before acknowledging the boundary he had trespassed. Without judgment or consequence I listened.
All the moments I planned for, this messy moment had created hope. The ugliest pieces of our harm were merely reflections of emotions seeking compassion, inviting us to see one another’s needs. Progress unplanned.
scribblechic 
“Anger was sadness hiding from hurt.” That’s an invaluable insight, and maybe the only thing that can help short-circuit our own reflexive anger. It sounds as though you’re finding your way through the jungle. Others will tell you there’s a path, but I don’t think there is. I haven’t found one.
Oh, good! I’ll take comfort in knowing there are others stumbling through the chaos, too.