Human Being in Progress: Be Kind.
Standing on the sidewalk on a slow Saturday in Santa Fe, there’s art in the air. Tourists are mixing with the locals with the warmth and frivolity that typically marks our exchanges. But this time, one story isn’t so neatly arranged.
A girl of about thirteen, long legs, big feet, trailing behind her dad who’s rushing to cross the street. Dad’s holding an umbrella to ward off a light mist of rain. She mistakenly drops a dollar bill, and in full view of several of us standing nearby, Dad turns around and shames her.
“Why the hell did you drop the DOLLAR?”
Hurriedly and clumsily she scoops it up, his voice intoning his disdain continuing down the street. We hear his tone but not his words. Sufficiently concerned, my friend and I turn our bodies in their direction. My New York City protective instinct emerges, along with an earnest desire to help this man see how much damage he’s doing.
He’s not realizing that his daughter isn’t just some delay in his agenda today, a foil to his being on time. She is a HUMAN BEING in progress, and he’s tossed shame on her like a bag of trash. I want to run and tell him. Actually, I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but I don’t.
I remember my studies and I choose to bear witness, and share this with you, right here, as a reminder to us all. Human being in progress. Be kind.
Several times over the course of my son’s childhood, while catching myself saying things like “hurry up, quick, we’re in a rush” or worse, shaming him for simple human choices (more on that in Part III, coming next week), I would practice the “do-over.” Here’s how.
Upon catching myself in the act of shaming, blaming, rushing or making wrong, I ask my son if I can back up to the beginning of the argument so I can have a chance to be thoughtful, tender, patient and KIND. It always works, still to this day: we reconnect, find a new way forward and look one another in the eyes with a deeper respect than we’d had moments prior.
In closing, let’s imagine that dad with the dollar practicing the do-over, shall we?
The girl drops the bill. Her dad tensely holding his umbrella, clearly rushing to be on time. He sees her. He stops. He pauses and takes a full, conscious breath while she retrieves it. He smiles, wordlessly, allowing her to place the bill where it ought to be. No rush. His patient confidence helps her collect herself, as he reaches his free arm out to her to share the umbrella. They keep walking. I’m warmed by the vision.
May this re-frame serve as inspiration for your own do-over.
Click here for Part I, Part III and Part IV of the series. And the Perceptive Parenting course is now open. It’s my honor to serve you and your family..
