Meaningful Connections

Last month my youngest daughter won a prize in a school activity, and in choosing what that prize would be she chose two rings, one for herself and one that she gave to her older sister.

At dinner that night she was excited to show me what she’d won, and to describe the events of the day. She had already given her older sister the other ring, and they both showed me their new and highly valued treasures. I shared their enthusiasm and asked how they were won, and I (along with my wife) celebrated with them both a day well lived. I also shared with them that these rings reminded me of a previous story just two years prior:

Our girls are two years apart and the oldest had just begun kindergarten at the time. As she started kindergarten her younger sister missed her counterpart and playmate for the bulk of each day and was struggling with the separation. As the younger expressed her sense of loss in connection and time with the older sister she shared a desire to give her something… something the older could take with her to school to remember her younger sister by. As I explored the different gift possibilities with her, we came to settle on a pair of rings. One ring that each girl could wear and remember the other one by when they were apart.

So this younger sister got her savings out and we spent the better part of the day going to different shops (4 to be exact) to find the perfect rings for the task. She eventually settled on some that had small flowers on them and made her purchase. I was proud of her as she made this purchase and presented this gift to her older sister later that evening. I was proud of her for struggling with the sense of loss that she felt in the sudden absence of her older sister. I was proud of her for striving to find a way to maintain that meaningful sense of connection with her sister in the midst of changing circumstances that imposed their separation. I was proud of her for giving serious consideration to what kind of gift would be most appropriate for the task (which reflects the meaning of the gift itself). I was proud of her for spending her own money on the gift, as all meaningful connections and relationships involve sacrifice… a giving of oneself to and for the other. And I was proud of both girls in their mutual love for and valuing of one another in the whole exchange.

I think the rings lasted about a week before they were lost. But the sense of growth and connection these items played a small role in facilitating has a continuity far exceeding any material object. That growth and connection is now rooted in the lives they live today, and serves as a foundation on which more connections and growth continue to build.

*Accompanying music for this post is (Not Fire, Not Ice), by Ben Harper. Find this song in the upper right hand side of the screen to listen.
Not Fire, Not Ice, Ben Harper & the Innocent Criminals, Live from Mars

Shared Meaning

A while back I was listening to a podcast interview with Mary Catherine Bateson, an accomplished linguist and anthropologist from George Mason University. She is also the daughter of the two famous anthropologists Margaret Mead and Gregory Bateson. Mary Catherine’s interview was loosely based on the theme of her book Composing a Life, and as I listened I was struck by the following statement she made:

We talk in this country often about property rights, we talk more rarely about the shares people have in each other’s lives and about people’s rights to participation and pleasure, especially at the moments of passage. The right to throw a handful of earth on a coffin, the right to stand up to catch a tossed bouquet and dream of one’s own future wedding, to kiss the bride or groom, or hold a newborn. Couples today devise new rituals or set up housekeeping in ways most meaningful to themselves but without wondering if that meaning is something owed to a larger community.
Mary Catherine Bateson, Composing a Life, On Being podcast

This is just the kind of brilliant observation that a grounded anthropologist would make. And it makes me uncomfortable… in a good way. It makes me uncomfortable because I myself am composing a life and family grounded in what is most meaningful to me, and far too often without regard for those others around me (in my larger family and community) who have contributed to that meaning and value. This quote challenges and balances my rather strong individualistic tendencies by highlighting the relational and communal contexts that I rest in and draw from. My successes and accomplishments in life are not strictly mine… they rest upon the supports, encouragements, beliefs and values, efforts, sacrifices, hopes and dreams, visions, graces, mercies, loves, and investments of a vast web of family and community that make them possible.

Here again is the importance of balancing autonomy/ individuality with connection/ togetherness, both must be honored. I am reminded of so many people in reflecting on this who have loved me well, and for so long. And this leaves me grateful, but also humbled… because I have often just taken them for granted. I hope to grow in this gratitude and humility… I need it.

*Enjoy the accompanying music to this post by James Taylor… Shower the People. This song can be found at the upper right side of the blog.
James Taylor, Shower the People, Greatest Hit

Find the podcast interview with Mary Catherine Bateson at the On Being site here: https://onbeing.org/programs/mary-catherine-bateson-composing-a-life-aug2017/

Relationship Dynamics: Part Deux

On the heels of last week’s post (Relationship Dynamics) I thought I’d follow up by sharing a couple examples in my own life of struggling to navigate and find the balance among the emotional currents discussed (individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness). I hope these examples demonstrate just how pervasively these emotional currents impact our lives. And yes, it’s ok to have a little fun at my expense here!

Example 1: One of the earliest times in my marriage that I found myself swimming the emotional and relational rapids occurred just as my wife and I returned from our honeymoon. It was early January, cold, and I had a bronchial cough just developing but otherwise felt fine. In checking the weather I became aware of another big snowstorm settling in that night (somewhere around 12’’ of snow… big for where I live) with temperatures down in the 10’s. As one who has a love for outdoor sports, and winter outdoor excursions in particular, I felt an immediate internal struggle. My former self (single, before marriage) took every such opportunity to climb up Snake Mountain (where the snow wind loads, yielding twice the amount of snow) for a winter alpine camping experience. Often I did this with friends, and occasionally would go alone with a bivysack when no one else was available.

And I now felt that tension… this opportunity (for an alpine experience on Snake Mountain) became all wrapped up with that drive for individuality/autonomy within me, which felt like it was being lost in my new marital commitments. It felt as though my very identity would be lost if I didn’t go, if I didn’t take this step to preserve this central aspect of myself. And so I did (leaving behind a confused yet gracious wife). Around 6pm that evening I called my friend Jeremy and made plans to head up Snake Mountain. By about 8pm we were heading out, psyched by the snowstorm and the adventure to ensue. During the approximate 3 hour climb up Snake Mountain in nearly waste deep snow I wrestled with my decision, feeling irresponsible, feeling like a jerk, feeling selfish… but in small doses as the climb itself, among strong winds and near zero temperatures required my attention. All in all (with the drive and adventurous alpine climb to the top) it was 1am before Jeremy and I were settling down in our sleeping bags within the tent. And here, it really set in.

I lay there in my sleeping bag, exhausted but unable to sleep. And my mind kept mulling over my decision, and how to reconcile it with my new commitments as a husband. That drive for connection/togetherness wouldn’t be quiet. “You’ve only been back from your honeymoon for 2 days! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” And that drive for individuality/autonomy prompted a response… “but freedom, adventure, this is who I am… it’s what I do.” Followed by connection/togetherness, “That’s childish, you’re a husband now. Figure it out. Your priorities need to change.”

After what felt like hours (it was probably only about 10 minutes), I spoke. “Jeremy” I said. “Yeah” was the reply. “I’ve got to go back” I said. “Ok” he replied. And that was it, no more words spoken. We were up, tearing down everything we’d just set up and packing it back in our packs (*As an aside, this is an amazing friend. He knew the struggle I was having and just walked through it with me). So we made our way back down the mountain and drove home. And upon returning home I got back into bed with my wife at about 4am. She barely stirred, but I was finally able to sleep with a sound conscience.

Example 2: About four years after the above example I was in graduate school and my wife and I had not yet found a way to balance the drives for individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness, particularly when it came to overnight adventure trips. I had planned a few such trips over the previous couple of years, all of which were canceled last minute due to distresses, tensions, and challenges that arose. My bids for individuality/autonomy (by way of these overnight adventure trips) seemed at odds with my wife’s needs (drive) for connection/togetherness within the relationship… and no wonder (We had moved to a brand new place and I was working upwards of 60 hours a week in graduate school)! Our opportunities for experiencing connection/togetherness were already in short supply, so as I pursued something for myself (an adventure outing) anxiety regarding our connection/togetherness was raised within the relationship.

When that anxiety goes up, all kinds of weird things start happening. Doubt starts asking “what if” questions like…

What if something happens?
What if this is the last time I see her/him?
What if she/he is doing something else in my absence?
What if I need her/him for some reason?
What if someone breaks in while I’m gone/ he’s gone?

Well, then doubt’s cousin (fear) comes along and starts suggesting answers to those questions… and the answers that fear suggest are always your worst nightmares come to life. Just as though encountering a boggart from Harry Potter, one finds the self immediately confronted with the reality of his/her greatest fears! These are the emotional rapids of the relationship, requiring real skill to maneuver! But neither my wife or I had the skill for those rapids yet, and thus I ended up canceling my trips time and again in order to quell the anxieties (along with the doubts and fears) they produced.

Still though, that drive for individuality/autonomy persisted (and was getting frustrated), so I was now ready to try again. I planned a 3 day/ 2 night trip attacking the Triple Crown Loop in Virginia (Tinker Cliffs, McAfee’s Knob, and the Dragons tooth). My wife was confronting her boggart quite successfully and even had plans in my absence to keep herself occupied. I was excited, yet still struggling with my boggart. I packed everything up and was ready to go… it was about 6pm when my wife drove me to the drop off point along the Appalachian Trail. As I got out of the car a hiker came off the trail looking for a ride to the nearest gas station (about 7 miles away on back roads). There were no other options (ours was the only car there, and it was getting dark).

As I said, there were no other options. My wife was not going to drive away with this guy in the car (who’d been drinking whiskey to keep warm along the trail) all by herself! So I put my pack back in the car and we drove him to the gas station. But by the time we’d dropped the hiker off the sun was set (both literally and figuratively). I was emotionally tired! The hiker had somehow sent me over the connection/togetherness edge, and I now even felt protective (after he was gone… I know, it’s all nonsense). So getting back on the road again I said something about being tired and wanting to just go home. My wife was surprised (but I think secretly happy), and we drove home and had a good dinner that night.

And now here I am 9 years after the fact…though I’ve been to McAfee’s knob and the Dragon’s tooth many times, I still haven’t completed the Triple Crown!

*Accompanying music for this post is “Boots of Spanish Leather” by Bob Dylan. Give this song a listen by scrolling up and looking at the top right hand side of the page.
Bob Dylan, Boots of Spanish Leather, The Times They Are A-Changin’

Relationship Dynamics

Understanding the dynamics of our intimate relationships is akin to a kayaker understanding the currents of a river. For that kayaker to navigate those waters safely and effectively, he/she must understand what is happening and how to manage the various currents at work. Likewise, each of us involved in intimate relationships (marriage, dating relationships, close friendships, family relationships) must learn the various emotional currents at play in those relationships and develop a set of skills for navigating those emotional currents. The focus for us here is on identifying the emotional currents in our relational waters and how they operate.

Murray Bowen identified two fundamental drives in all life. Those two drives are:

The drive for individuality/autonomy
The drive for connection/togetherness

You may notice that these two drives counterbalance one another. It’s crucial to recognize these as foundational drives that cannot be done away with. Given that they counterbalance one another, when one is emphasized at the expense of the other… problems occur. I’ll get into this a bit later, but first an example to help us understand how these work:

Example: We are able to recognize these two drives at work within an child as he/she grows. The baby is first conceived when its mother and father come together (due to their own drives for connection/togetherness). That baby grows within its mother’s womb in physical unity and togetherness with the mother until he/she is birthed, a literal process of separating from the mother physically (a process of individuation and development of physical autonomy from the mother). But in its infancy the child is completely helpless and unable to care for itself. It can’t even identify what its needs are, why they are, and how to address them. So that infant cries, a bid for outside help/intervention (connection/togetherness).

Aside from the needs for nourishment, warmth, a clean diaper, etc., the infant has a very real emotional need. This child is completely helpless to regulate itself emotionally, it requires the mother and/or father to develop this capacity. Think of how a parent holds a baby, and where it’s head rests (on the chest). Here, resting on the mother/father’s chest, that infant hears the heartbeat and syncs with the breathing patterns of his/her parent. Here, it finds rhythm in its chaotic environment, and in that rhythm it finds peace (most of the time). Resting on mom or dad’s chest, the baby is able to sync and regulate itself (develop and organize a rhythm for life).

Notice though, that if a five year old were no further along than an infant in self-regulation (calming itself when upset), there’d be a problem. Even as the connection/togetherness drive gains an infant opportunity to sync and learn to self-regulate in relation to the mother/father, the drive for individuality/autonomy is at work nudging that child forward to learn the skills for regulating itself autonomously. It is this drive (for individuality/autonomy) that moves the child to learn to walk, to feed itself, to use the bathroom… to become autonomous in meeting its own needs. Throughout childhood, one moves into unknown territory over and over again (by way of the drive for individuality/autonomy), learning the skills to navigate that terrain and to self-regulate within that new terrain… and when the child becomes overwhelmed, he/she returns to the mother/father for support, assurance, safety (connection/togetherness)… all of which help him/her to self-regulate and gain mastery over the emotions once more. As a five year old should be further along than an infant, likewise a ten year old should be further along than a five year old, that drive for individuality/autonomy propels it forward.

And then adolescence! Here in adolescence a marked shift occurs. Up to this point the child has remained largely an open book to mom/dad in seeking support (connection/togetherness), but here the adolescent begins to initiate an emotional distancing from his/her parents. And this is hard (for both the adolescent and the parent)! But it is essential. The drive for individuality/autonomy continues, and the adolescent now needs to learn how to navigate the unknowns of emotional life on his/her own (mom and dad won’t always be around). It is notable here though, that as the adolescent begins to distance from mom/dad, the drive for connection/togetherness remains (it does not go away!). Here, that drive begins to find its fulfillment in romantic interests of the opposite sex (by and large).

So now the adolescent is learning how to manage these two fundamental drives (individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness) in the context of romantic relationships… new territory (and without a guide/ parent). And the learning curve can be quite steep, because neither the one adolescent or the other really knows what he/she is doing in these emotional waters (they haven’t been on this river before, without a guide, and these are now class 4 and 5 rapids). And they get beat up by the rapids, sometimes feeling like they’re drowning.

Reading the Currents

Ok, we’ve identified the currents, but we haven’t yet clarified how they manifest within intimate peer relationships (romantic relationships). A very good way to think of these two counterbalancing drives (for individuality/autonomy and connection/togetherness) within a romantic relationship is to recognize that the emotional field created by a relationship operates much like a magnetic field. When you place two magnets in close proximity to one another there is a reaction (because each magnet carries a charge). It’s the same with people, we all carry an emotional charge into our relationships. One kind of reaction between magnets (and people) is to be drawn together (the drive for connection/togetherness). But another kind or reaction between magnets (and people) is repulsion (the drive for individuality/autonomy).

These forces are at work in our intimate relationships throughout life, but are most clearly observed in early intimate relationships (as in adolescence). It is very common in these early relationships to undergo a pattern of breaking up and getting back together multiple times over the course of a dating relationship (an “I love you, I hate you” pattern). In these situations we can clearly identify the currents or drives at work. The feeling of euphoric love that brings a couple together is the drive for connection/togetherness at work, and like magnets attracted together the couple is inseparable (emotionally and often physically). But when this sense of connection/togetherness comes at the expense of ones individuality/autonomy, that individual feels like he/she has lost the self within the relationship. This produces what is called an enmeshed relationship (when connection/togetherness comes at the expense of individuality/autonomy). The loss of self in such a relationship is terrifying (as one literally loses the ability regulate his/her own emotions in the context of the relationship), and the drive (need) for individuality/autonomy kicks in. Like magnets that repel one another, the relationship divides for each individual to gain space and perspective (to reclaim the self). There is a tendency here for this drive for individuality/autonomy to now assert itself forcefully, excessively, even at the expense of connection/togetherness. This produces what is called a disengaged relationship (when individuality/autonomy comes at the expense of connection/togetherness). The loss of relationship in such a circumstance is lonely and isolating, and the drive (need) for connection/togetherness kicks back in. And thus, the couple rejoins enflamed with passion and love once more (until the loss of self ensues once again).

Here we come to recognize something profound about the nature of intimacy. Intimacy is not connection/togetherness at the expense of individuality/autonomy (as we often tend to think), but it is found in both individuals working to properly balance and honor both drives. Over time in our intimate relationships, intimacy grows as we are able to be in closer and closer emotional proximity to one another without losing ourselves (connection/togetherness at the expense if individuality/autonomy), and without being overcome by isolation/loneliness (individuality/autonomy at the expense of connection/togetherness). Earlier on in our experiences with intimate relationships our capacity for such close proximity is low, and we are likely to get easily overwhelmed by these forces (drives) in the emotional field of the relationship. But with time this capacity grows, and our ability to navigate these forces (drives) without being overwhelmed so easily increases. Here we are able to be in closer emotional proximity, experiencing greater intimacy.

Just as the professional kayaker’s ability to navigate class 4 and 5 rapids was built on his/her gained experience in lower grade rivers, likewise one’s ability to navigate the emotional drives/needs of intimate relationships grows with time and work, as he/she seeks to acknowledge and honor those drives/needs both within the self and the other.

*The accompanying song for this post is “In Spite of Ourselves” by John Prine and Iris Dement. Scroll to the top to find the song in the right hand side of the blog for a listen.
John Prine, In Spite of Ourselve