I am listening with the ears that have to be on high alert. Ears that have to hear the smallest change in the air and brace me for the emotional tornado that's coming.
She told the story of being a young mother and not emotionally equipped to deal with the responsibilities of parenting. She spoke many times of wanting to leave, as a threat to better behavior and cooperation from her children. If they would just listen and follow directions, parenting would be a breeze.
Everyone had to fit into "don't ask me any questions, just keep moving". Anything outside of that directive was considered going against her plans and had to be punished accordingly. There was lots of punishment.
So I learned to listen with ears that have to be on high alert. Ears that have to hear the smallest change in the air and brace me for the emotional tornado that's coming.
She would vomit all of life's disappointments, and I listened and took it all personally. Which is how you listen with ears on high alert from a child's perspective.
Her emotional vomit put me in a sour mood. After all, she was talking about me and I had no solution for her saying she had babies too early. I was the problem and what was I supposed to do with that information? The moody face was my counterdefense. She hated the moody pout, head lowered and shoulders slumped. It was a visual reminder of how often I had been beaten down, to develop the "beat-down" posture. It was a reminder that she was not doing a good job of parenting, which made her angrier. Spoiler alert: not doing a great job!!!
Everyone knows and no one has a solution. The ones with the solution are too young to be taken seriously: Please love me, I'll be good."
I listened to my mother, with the ears that had to be on high alert. Ears that had to hear the smallest change in the air and brace me for the emotional tornado that was coming. It never felt like a good thing, stomach in knots all the time, waiting and listening. Never a quiet, peaceful moment, not even during the night. Can't sleep, so I disassociated myself and created a different world. In this world, I was happy and peaceful and I forgot the sound of high alert.
That is until I looked into the eyes of my children as I vomited disappointment onto them: life, love, career. Not remembering how it devastated me when I thought I was the reason my mother was sad. If it weren't for me, she could have all the things she wants. She tried to tell me once, "you can never make me happy". I took it as a challenge and dedicated my life to the task and was resentful when I realized she was right.
Actually, she was trying to tell me, that it wasn't my job to make her happy. She was lowkey trying to save me a lifetime of frustration. I didn't understand because I had not adjusted my listening of her. As a child, she sounded like she needed a hero. Someone to swoop in and save her. And my thoughts, "when I grow up I will be her superhero". A child thinking right, "here I come to save the day". Those Mighty Mouse cartoons messed me up big time. Just saying!!!
The lesson, the learning from growing up on high alert? Yes, there is always a lesson, even in the most painful of situations. I am learning to appreciate the deep listening I learned early and how it has informed the work I do. Deep listening helps me get to the root quicker. Inside the root, the family legacy, the family secrets, and all the painful unspoken things wait for someone brave enough to adjust their listening long enough to get the deeper message.
The message? Sometimes the monster is you, vomiting disappointment onto others!!!
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