Want your child to care? Start cultivating your empathy

Want your child to care? Start cultivating your empathy (by Miki Dedijer)

A mentor of mine once told me we don’t learn how to be more loving or empathetic. We’re naturally loving from birth.

The difference is small but significant.

We don’t have to strive to feel more or improve ourselves. This perspective is a cultural illness. It affects us when we internalize the industrial ideals of never-ending growth and linear progress.

Instead, we can become more skilled at revealing what’s been there all along.

Growing up, I shut down parts of my heart. There was the pain of broken relationships; the needs that went unmet as a child; stored grief for people and places that I lost connection with; the fear of being hurt or taken advantage of.

Most of us have areas of our hearts we haven’t visited for a long time. We change schools. We move homes. Our parents divorce. A loved one dies. Machines raze our favorite hideout in the woods. Few of us belong to a village that bears witness to the pains of these losses. Few of us have a community that helps us regain the trust we need to feel safe and welcome again.

And so in the absense of a empathic adults or a community to hold us, we abandon these challenged parts of ourselves. We don’t want to go there again. We don’t want to relive the pain or hurt. And so we close these inner catacombs and walk away.

Our work as adult men is to open those chambers again, to remove whatever blocks us from loving the way we were born to do.

[bctt tweet=”Our work as adult men is to remove whatever blocks us from loving the way we were born to do. ” via=”no”]

Learn to cultivate empathy.

That’s far easier said than done, I know. Much of my adult life has been about rediscovering these catacombs and opening them one by one. That’s not always easy. But the older I get, the more I consider it an adventure to rediscover my natural capacity for empathy.

And cultivating empathy is a vital role as a father.

We have so many other roles, of course. But being empathic with our children–and helping them grow their own capacity for empathy–has a huge impact on their development .

When we’re empathic our children can relax. There’s no reason for them to stress or be on high alert. They don’t have to defend themselves, run, hide, or fight. They feel they belong, that they have a home no matter what arises in them. In this environment, they develop the way nature intends them to.

That’s why cultivating our children’s empathy is a fundamental responsability as dads. We’re empathy farmers, to use a phrase by psychologist Robin Grille.

Our task is to create the best conditions we can to grow our children’s ability to relate to people, nature and all sentient beings.

Every now and then we might lose our cool, yell, throw a menacing look or otherwise frighten our child with our power and authority. We soon sense the muteness of disconnection. And most of us regret it afterwards, and wish we’d done it in a different way.

[bctt tweet=”Cultivating empathy is a vital role as a father. ” via=”no”]

When our wounds get in the way.

The hard truth is that sometimes we don’t want our children’s feelings to touch us. We’re too exhausted, on edge, incapacitated or triggered for some reason.

In those moments, empathy hurts us too much. We’d much rather turn away than stay with.

Our child’s behavior sometimes touches on our original hurts, the ones we’ve locked away. Every time our child takes us there, she reminds us of our unresolved pain.

It’s not that we’re insensitive, crude, monstrous or incapable of responding with soft attention and compassionate curiosity. We are all biologically capable of responding with love towards our child or our partner. But sometimes our automatic defensive reactions blocks our hearts.

It’s not that we are mean. We’re wounded.

So instead of facing our child, we evade her. We keep her a good distance from our pressure points. We block out our capacity for empathy and isolate ourselves from our child. And instead of healing ourselves, we pass on our hurts.

Notice how you block your empathy.

When we block our empathic responses, we in effect censor our children’s emotions. To avoid engaging with our child’s feelings, we manipulate, dominate, control, belittle, opress or otherwise block the behavior. And we create a distance in the family.

”Empathy blockers save us the trouble of listening, but they cost us our connection with each other,” says Robin Grille. They frustrate our child, and with time create detachment, distance and mistrust.

These are some examples of empathy blockers from his wonderful book Heart-to-Heart Parenting.

  • Downplaying – Oh, don’t cry. I’m sure it’s not that bad! It’s not the end of the world.
  • Denial – There is nothing wrong; nothing for you to be upset about. Everything is OK.
  • Reasoning – Don’t cry. Can’t you see that the other child didn’t mean to hurt you
  • The positive spin – Look on the bright side. Can’t you see, this probably happened for a good reason?
  • Cheering up – Don’t worry. Here, let me tell you something funny I heard the other day. Here, have an ice cream. That’ll cheer you up.
  • Advising/giving options – Why don’t you try doing this, or that? I think you should just ignore that so-and-so.
  • The expectation – You should have known better. Get over it. Don’t let it get to you.
  • Put down – Don’t be silly. Don’t be ridiculous.
  • Diagnosing/labelling – You are being over-sensitive.
  • Distracting/diverting – Hey, have a look at the pretty puppet.
  • Stealing the thunder – Now you know how I felt when the same thing happened to me.

Listen with your heart.

If you recognize any of these behaviors, chances are you’re human.

And that means you can learn to remove the blocks by owning your reaction and healing your hurts.

This might mean getting some rest, reaching out to a friend a therapist or a coach for support, or finding some space to decompress.

The practice is continuously to develop your ability to listen with genuine interest in your child’s emotional world.

When you do, your child learns that all her feelings are valid. Anger, fear, sadness, shame or joy are all welcome.

“Listening,” says Grille, “is at the heart of connection, and if we can’t listen well, we cease to be an influence in our children’s lives.”

(See here for Miki’s free ebook for depleted dads: ‘7 Steps to a Lot More Energy As a Dad.’)

[irp posts=”1846″ name=”The Single Most Important Skill to Teach Your Child (by Miki Dedijer)”]


About the Author: Miki Dedijer

Miki DedijerMiki Dedijer supports conscious fathers in managing their emotional health and rooting their children in community. Miki hosts The Lodge for Natural Dads, an online gathering of committed dads of young children. You can now reserve your place as a lodge member. Sign up for news about Miki’s workshops, and receive his blogs and updates through his website, naturaldads.com, or join a growing community of dads on Facebook. Miki also offers ‘7 Steps to a Lot More Energy As a Dad.’ a free ebook for depleted dads.

5 Comments

Wendolyn

applies to our election cycle too… many people who feel secure following the election are using these empathy blockers which prevent conversation, healing, or greater understanding from both “sides.” I think many of the protests are cries for others to really listen, really see the emotional realities that the protesters are facing.

Reply
Miki

Hey Wendolyn–I love that you connect empathic parenting and emotion blockers with the recent election in the United States.

Our children are watching, sensing, feeling how us adults are in the world, and how we respond to the world. The energy of the election has rippled through many families (even beyond the United States).

How we respond to the other, how we view and approach our differences, teaches our children a lot about empathy, and our willingness to listen, even if it is painful.

I imagine there are a lot of correlations between how we practice empathy at home, and how it shows up in politics and shapes society.

Robin Grille is really clear that reforms in child-rearing directly affects democratic processes, peace and social stability. He calls this parenting for a peaceful world.

Thank you again for making the connection!

Miki

Reply
Miki

Hey Howard–Glad you liked it. Yes, I agree with you, it is easy to get distracted. That is I believe why First Nations Peoples don’t see themselves as raising children, but reminding children of their original nature again and again, their generosity, their gifts and their love. When we live in a culture that allows us to forget that, we are denatured. Warmest, Miki

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Follow Hey Sigmund on Instagram

Lead with warmth and confidence: ‘Yes I know this feels big, and yes I know you can handle it.’ 

We’re not saying they’ll handle it well, and we’re not dismissing their anxiety. What we’re saying is ‘I know you can handle the discomfort of anxiety.’ 

It’s not our job to relive this discomfort. We’ll want to, but we don’t have to. Our job is to give them the experiences they need (when it’s safe) to let them see that they can handle the discomfort of anxiety. 

This is important, because there will  always be anxiety when they do something brave, new, important, growthful. 

They can feel anxious and do brave. Leading with warmth and confidence is about, ‘Yes, I believe you that this feels bad, and yes, I believe in you.’ When we believe in them, they will follow. So often though, it will start with us.♥️
There are things we do because we love them, but that doesn’t mean they’ll feel loved because of those things.

Of course our kids know we love them, and we know they love us. But sometimes, they might feel disconnected from that feeling of being ‘loved by’. As parents, we might feel disconnected from the feeling of being ‘appreciated by’.

It’s no coincidence that sometimes their need to feel loved, and our need to feel appreciated collide. This collision won’t sound like crashing metal or breaking concrete. It will sound like anger, frustration, demanding, nagging. 

It will feel like not mattering, resentment, disconnection. It can burst through us like meteors of anger, frustration, irritation, defiance. It can be this way for us and our young ones. (And our adult relationships too.)

We humans have funny ways of saying, ‘I miss you.’

Our ‘I miss you’ might sound like nagging, annoyance, anger. It might feel like resentment, rage, being taken for granted, sadness, loneliness. It might look like being less playful, less delighting in their presence.

Their ‘I miss you’ might look like tantrums, aggression, tears, ignoring, defiant indifference, attention-seeking (attention-needing). It might sound like demands, anger, frustration.

The point is, there are things we do because we love them - cleaning, the laundry, the groceries, cooking. And yes, we want them to be grateful, but feeling grateful and feeling loved are different things. 

Sometimes the things that make them feel loved are so surprising and simple and unexpected - seeking them out for play, micro-connections, the way you touch their hair at bedtime, the sound of your laugh at their jokes, when you delight in their presence (‘Gosh I’ve missed you today!’ Or, ‘I love being your mum so much. I love it better than everything. Even chips. If someone said you can be queen of the universe or Molly’s mum, I’d say ‘Pfft don’t annoy me with your offers of a crown. I’m Molly’s mum and I’ll never love being anything more.’’)

So ask them, ‘What do I do that makes you feel loved?’ If they say ‘When you buy me Lego’, gently guide them away from bought things, and towards what you do for them or with them.♥️
We don’t have to protect them from the discomfort of anxiety. We’ll want to, but we don’t have to.

OAnxiety often feels bigger than them, but it isn’t. This is a wisdom that only comes from experience. The more they sit with their anxiety, the more they will see that they can feel anxious and do brave anyway. Sometimes brave means moving forward. Sometimes it means standing still while the feeling washes away. 

It’s about sharing the space, not getting pushed out of it.

Our job as their adults isn’t to fix the discomfort of anxiety, but to help them recognise that they can handle that discomfort - because it’s going to be there whenever they do something brave, hard , important. When we move them to avoid anxiety, we potentially, inadvertently, also move them to avoid brave, hard, growthful things. 

‘Brave’ rarely feels brave. It will feel jagged and raw. Sometimes fragile and threadbare. Sometimes it will as though it’s breathing fire. But that’s how brave feels sometimes. 

The more they sit with the discomfort of anxiety, the more they will see that anxiety isn’t an enemy. They don’t have to be scared of it. It’s a faithful ally, a protector, and it’s telling them, ‘Brave lives here. Stay with me. Let me show you.’♥️
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#parenting #childanxiety #anxietyinkids #teenanxiety
We have to stop treating anxiety as a disorder. Even for kids who have seismic levels of anxiety, pathologising anxiety will not serve them at all. All it will do is add to their need to avoid the thing that’s driving anxiety, which will most often be something brave, hard, important. (Of course if they are in front of an actual danger, we help anxiety do its job and get them out of the way of that danger, but that’s not the anxiety we’re talking about here.)

The key to anxiety isn’t in the ‘getting rid of’ anxiety, but in the ‘moving with’ anxiety. 

The story they (or we) put to their anxiety will determine their response. ‘You have anxiety. We need to fix it or avoid the thing that’s causing it,’ will drive a different response to, ‘Of course you have anxiety. You’re about to do something brave. What’s one little step you can take towards it?’

This doesn’t mean they will be able to ‘move with’ their anxiety straight away. The point is, the way we talk to them about anxiety matters. 

We don’t want them to be scared of anxiety, because we don’t want them to be scared of the brave, important, new, hard things that drive anxiety. Instead, we want to validate and normalise their anxiety, and attach it to a story that opens the way for brave: 

‘Yes you feel anxious - that’s because you’re about to do something brave. Sometimes it feels like it happens for no reason at all. That’s because we don’t always know what your brain is thinking. Maybe it’s thinking about doing something brave. Maybe it’s thinking about something that happened last week or last year. We don’t always know, and that’s okay. It can feel scary, and you’re safe. I would never let you do something unsafe, or something I didn’t think you could handle. Yes you feel anxious, and yes you can do this. You mightn’t feel brave, but you can do brave. What can I do to help you be brave right now?’♥️

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