goin' to the chapel...

I have started meeting with another couple for pre-marital counseling:

I ask: "What do you hope to gain from our time together?"

They think a moment and then say:

 "Well, we hope you are able to tell us the most important thing to know in order to make our marriage really last.  You know, from a professional's perspective..."

It is an inevitable question and nearly every couple asks it at some point in time during pre-marital work.  Part of me always wants to respond with top-ten sort of list, identifying the keys for a healthy marriage (because there are at least that many) but a number of years ago I realized that couples really have room in their minds and in their lives for  one item.  

During the course of our time together, couples are often planning a wedding, navigating the demands of being adult children, managing employment or graduate school, entering or managing the realm of home ownership, and whatever else their particular circumstance demands.  They do not ask for the "most important thing" because they really believe there exists only one, they ask because the reality is they often only have capacity to wrap their minds around one.

So it better count, right?

{answer: communication}

My response is neither surprising nor profound.

It will not save a couple from all conflict and grief in their relationship.

It does not happen all by itself, without attention and effort. 

But it is very rewarding when given the attention and effort.

Its benefits nearly always outweigh the costs and

Attending to the mastery of this "thing" lays the foundation for all relationships;

it is 

essential.

The communication patterns we establish early in our relationships settle deep roots - for better or for worse.  Our communication patterns have the potential to provide plentiful nourishment for growth and development or to choke the life out of our relationships, marital or otherwise.  

None of this comes as much of a surprise, right?

But the communication fact I find surprising (still), as do most of the couples I work with, is this: communication is not so much about our own talking and telling (although, being able to put feelings and desires into words IS important). Communication is actually about 

listening.

And this is the take-away I work towards with all couples (and adolescents and parents and...).  

Amidst the din of our desire to be known and heard, are we able to provide the space for another to tell their story - to be heard?  to feel understood and known?

a little bit more

I used to to love the high of pursuing a love interest and then I would get a sick feeling in my stomach once the chase was over...when I realized I did not possess an everlasting love interest after all.  

{side note}  
I feel some shame now as know I was not the smoothest crayon in the box and would often bungle the whole thing, leaving someone feeling less-than-stellar.  And for those who fell prey to my immaturity, I am sorry.

So this idea that one might find herself a little more smitten everyday - with her partner or with her child(ren) - was always accompanied by a little bit of a sick feeling in my stomach. 

It didn't seem an assurance one could prescribe for a relationship with more authority than a mere old-wives'-tale. 

And then I got married.  

And then I had kids.  

And the other day, I realized that I do indeed, fall in love a little bit more every day.  

Sometimes it's an exuberant love, reminiscent of the chase, but most days it is a slow penetrating love that settles into my bones and deepens my interest despite the immaturity of any given moment.

dysfunction junction

I was asked to provide a continuing education workshop series exploring the topic "Dysfunction" for a group of lay church leaders and for weeks I could not get the School House Rock 'Conjunction Junction' song out of my head, especially the, 

what's your function? 

Speaking with anyone on the topic of dysfunction is daunting, not just because it is a huge topic with few boundaries but also, despite my profession and training, I am unable to escape 

a deep and abiding relationship with   

dysfunction.  

And so that is where we started.  

With some self-reflection about our own thoughts and relationship with dysfunction - what it is, what it isn't, and what role it plays in our lives.   Recognizing that dysfunction plays a large role in making us feel stuck or helpless or hopeless.

Admittedly, it is easy to think of dysfunction in absolute terms, to think of something as broken beyond repair.  However, I shimmy out on a limb to say, what if dysfunction isn't necessarily highlighting a malfunction, something that is broken?  What if dysfunction is more of an implication that a part of something - a dynamic, a relationship, a pattern - is not at optimal function?  Furthermore, what if dysfunction exists because it is actually serving a function?  

I often find this to be true when working with clients - of all ages, with a range of presenting concerns - that an evaluation of the issues they bring to our work together and the identification of where they feel stuck, often illuminates a "both-and" realization.  

The sticky issue is both a problem and some sort of a solution.

At first glance this might seem infuriating but what I love about this framework is: if we are able to identify the both-and, there is some room to think about the situation in shades of gray rather than in absolutes.  Within this framework, it is possible to restore function and hope to that which we previously thought beyond repair, to that about which we felt hopeless.

think about it.

jammie time

Did I ever tell you about the time I met a friend for breakfast with my pajama-clad 9 month old in tow?  About how when we were escorted to our table a woman said (a little louder than was necessary), "oh, that poor kid...shouldn't be out in his pajamas!" I laughed a little (with a stink-eye thrown in for good measure) and settled into our breakfast.  Little did I realize how much this experience meant to my friend, who did not have kids at the time, and how much it shaped her self-concept as a mother.  

She recently told me it was over that infamous breakfast when she came to terms with three things: 

1.  Everybody and their mother will feel it is reasonable to comment on your parenthood

2.  When it happens, you have a choice: laugh it off or take it personally

3.  Parenting is generally much easier when you choose to laugh

and p.s. 

It was 9 o'clock in the morning! 

Which is obviously still jammie time.

use your words

I am not sure where I first heard the instruction to "use your words" but it has become a staple utterance over the past 20 years while I have cared for other people's kids and my own.  It always seemed like such sound instruction...

until 6 weeks and 2 days ago.

6 weeks and 2 days ago-ish, I was engaged in a mid-morning "difference of opinion" experience with our 1st grader.  After some time of going back and forth, he finally stomped up the stairs, looked me straight in the face, gave an exasperated grunt, and slammed the door.  At first I was outraged, stating his full name, followed by "you come back here and open that door right now!" But let's face it, neither one of us was ready "right now" so I made an addendum, "...when you are ready."  A few minutes later, he opened the door and stepped back into the room, avoiding eye contact and said, 

"I'm ready."

Our usual course is to debrief the what and the why of an interaction, review expectations, and discuss alternatives for behavior.  We started discussing the door slamming and the foot stomping and the nostril-flaring grunts he had thrown my way and I found myself leading up to that staple phrase, "...use your words."  But this time, he cut me off at the pass to say, "I couldn't think of any words! and plus, when I was using words before, it wasn't making me feel better!" His words transported me right back to arguments from childhood and beyond, back to that moment when words fail to sufficiently describe what I am feeling.  That moment when my body is taken over by a ball of fury, with which I am left alone to decide what to do.  I know what it feels like to have someone tell you to "use your words" when 

words are impotent balm 

for my fury.  

So we talked about the feeling(s) in his body and I validated his choice to stomp his feet and slam a door, rather than hit me or someone else.  And we brainstormed ideas for how to appropriately manage what he felt so when it happens again, he can release some fury to make room for more effective use of his words.  

And he gave me ideas for how my behavior or word choices can help or hinder his process. 

We have since encountered a variety of occasions where I have "use your words" at the ready but I have worked hard to hold the phrase silent and bring voice to a new one.  

Let's find your words.

where it begins

"Some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.  

Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen." 

- Gilda Radner

For the past year (or a few, if I am truthful about it), I have been thinking about this blog.  I have kept a list of blog ideas and I have written posts in my head while going about my day.  However, these posts have gone unpublished because I haven't been able to overcome my fundamental dilemma: I have so many things to write but I can't put my finger on a framework or a theme.

I want to write about all things marriage and family and parenting and death and life and becoming a grown up and just being human.  But is all of that personal, professional, academic, or...? And there it is: the ruminations I have, the things I want to share, and who I am are shaped by all the space(s) between my roles as therapist, wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend.  I want to write about living life on the threshold of the "not knowing," the in between.  

Because that space is dynamic; it is always evolving.

So I am working toward the resolution of my fundamental dilemma: I will write posts covering diverse topics and sometimes they will capture the personal and sometimes they will have professional or academic overtones.  

Because that is who I am.  

And that is who I am when I ruminate.