For a long time now, I’ve wanted to write about bonding with our teenage children…but I didn’t dare! Who am I to write about the challenges of parenting teens in such incredibly challenging times when my oldest is not yet 14! Even Dr. Wendy Mogel, child psychiatrist and best-selling author of the modern day parenting bible, “The Blessing of a Skinned Knee,” felt she had to wait “in the refrigerator” until her youngest turned 18, at which point she felt she possessed the “right” to know what she was talking about and give the critical advice and wisdom parents so desperately needed.
That being said, I’m writing this anyway. Why? Because I genuinely believe that I’ll still agree with the words I’m writing when it’s my turn to tumble out of the proverbial refrigerator. (although I might come out a little black and blue!)
There is no question that the times we face are unique in the severity and intensity of challenges we face. Alcohol. Drugs. (Okay, those existed when we were kids too.) Violent media. (That’s pretty new.) Social media. (That’s seriously new.) Technology of every kind imaginable and discomfort with anything but the most immediate forms of gratification (That’s absolutely new.) What’s okay and what’s not? How do we discipline? Where do we draw the line? What is acceptable? What is negotiable? Who says?
And who are we, by the way, in our role as parents? Are we our teenager’s friend? Mentor? Authoritative figure? A little of each?
Are there definitive answers to raising our teenage children in these confusing times?
Indeed, there is one simple truth that will never go away. And that is, quite simply, the incredible importance of developing a relationship with your teenager. The more relationship we have with them, the more impact we stand to have in their lives. Marriage and Family Therapist Daniel Schonbuch created the equation: I = QR. I is for Impact. We have to internalize that the degree of impact we have on our teenaged children is directly proportional to the quality of the relationship (QR) we have developed with them. It’s that simple. And it’s that difficult.
For quite some time child psychiatrists have taken note of the various kinds of attachment that exist between parent and child. There is what is called “anxious attachment.” This form of attachment is otherwise known as helicopter parenting, which is characterized by intense concern and irrational preoccupation with our children’s vulnerability. What if Samantha gets left out of this new group of friends? What if Jonah doesn’t make the hockey team and all his friends do? What if no one asks Maya to the prom? Nu?(as we say lovingly in Yiddish), What if? What if? Then maybe she’ll learn the strength of character that only reveals itself from a certain amount of vulnerability!
Another form of negative attachment is known as “avoiding attachment,” where parents deactivate the part of them that is responsive, emotionally reliant and connected.
And then there is “secure attachment,” which comes down to choosing to act in ways that increase the relationship with our children and build the quality of the bond. The more secure the attachment is between parent and child, the better the child will feel and the more likely a parent will be able to influence the life of the child. Even the most rebellious child, deep down, craves a secure relationship with his parents.
And ultimately, no matter how outrageous or horrifying the behavior of a teen may be, a parent needs to do honest soul searching before any discipline can take place. They have to ask themselves where they honestly stand in their relationship with the child. If parents are frustrated that the child is totally rebellious, angry or resentful, that pain needs to be placed squarely in the context of the kind of emotional bond that exists between them. Their impact on their child will only be as strong as the quality of relationship that parent and child have together. It’s that simple. And it’s that difficult.
Ask yourself (and brace yourself for the answer): How much time do you spend with your teenager without the background of phone buzzing, computer on alert, TV on, a movie being half watched? How much total quality time do you have with this older child a week? Several hours? One hour? Twenty minutes? Five minutes? None, really?
In our materialistic times, this may come as a surprise. Kids don’t need presents. They need your presence. They need to see that in a totally undivided, unhassled way, you receive pleasure from them and enjoy their company. Do your best to find a few minutes a day where your hands aren’t clutching a phone and your focus is totally on your teenager. Try to find time take them out of the house, for a walk or a drive (put it into your schedule, just as you would do for a client). Go to the park, go bowling, get a drink at Starbucks. Be careful not to argue about anything you normally argue about (even if you’re certainly right). Whatever homework they’re not doing, whatever friends they have that scare you and bring out your greatest fears, don’t bring it up. Try to talk about their feelings or your feelings about anything going on in your lives. If feelings are thoroughly uninteresting to them, talk about sports or music. Whatever is important in their inner world, get inside it and care about it.
I recently heard a story about a boy who was really struggling at school, both socially and academically. He came home irritable and poised for a fight, on top of his siblings, yelling, throwing things, ranting and raving about the house. His mother tried to calm him down, to no avail. She tried to discipline him, to no avail. Finally his father said he wanted to take care of it. He took his son out for a walk. They went to the local store and got soda and chips. They walked to the park and played a little ball. They started laughing and having a good time. Nothing was said about the boy’s behavior. And like a magic pill, the boy came back to the house in a better mood. He apologized to his siblings and mother and began to do his homework.
That’s secure attachment. I = QR. Our degree of impact is directly proportional to the quality of our relationship. The more proactively we invest in a positive relationship with our teenagers, the more likely it will be that they will turn toward us instead of away when times are tough for them.
Remember to ask me if I still believe this when my daughter turns 18. I’ll let you know.
Good Shabbos!
Ali Begoun
Friday, January 28, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
On Jealousy, Facebook and Not Flaunting what You’ve Got
This past week I’ve been discussing the destructive character trait of jealousy with my students. Is there any emotion that reeks more havoc in our relationships than jealousy? Does any emotion threaten our well being more than the green-eyed monster? In our own modern lives, can we not relate to the character, Portia, in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice: “How all the other passions fleet to air, as doubtful thoughts and rash embraced despair and shuddering fear and green-eyed jealousy!”
Do we understand what jealousy is?
One of the most compelling qualities of jealousy is that it’s often not the thing itself that we desire so much. It’s that someone else has it, and we don’t. In jealousy-speak, your gain is my loss. Call it pettiness. Call it insecurity. Whatever you call it, it’s draining and hurtful to be constantly looking over your shoulder and feeling desire for what you perceive to be someone else’s level of success and feeling the pain of lack in your own life. When I perceive you as having something that I don’t, it immediately engenders in me a feeling of inadequacy. What’s wrong with me that I don’t possess this? That feeling of inadequacy gets expressed in two ways. One way is inward (“I could never have what this guy has. I just don’t have what it takes”). The other is outward (“That guy is such an arrogant jerk. Just listen to him name drop!) Whether we bring our jealousy inward in the form of a low self concept, or outward in the form of judging others and declaring them unworthy, the bottom line is this powerful negative impulse skews our perspective and in the end, hurts no one but ourselves. And it keeps us from feeling joy for others’ success and even creates within us a vague feeling of pleasure in others’ misfortune. This is a painful way to live.
Jealousy can range from the obvious: someone else’s home, car, physical beauty, or financial standing, to the more subtle: other people’s children, a quality we perceive in someone else’s marriage, a perception of another’s success. It can be even more sublime: an intangible quality of a magnetic personality or a fabulous sense of humor. But the common denominator is we are always left with the painful feeling that we just don’t measure up. And that feeling hurts.
Let’s also stand apart from the culture we live in and observe some of the emotional fallout that we experience rampantly in our times. We live in a Facebook culture, where one person chooses to divulge only the most flattering glimpse of their lives and display it for public consumption. That leaves us, sneeking an unrealistic peek at someone else’s marriage, home life or vacation and automatically processing it inwardly to our detriment. “I don’t have that! What’s wrong with me?” I’ll never forget a story a friend of mine told me. She was looking at her friend’s Facebook page, agonizing over what she perceived as the incredible fun everyone seemed to be having. She never felt calm and secure enough to have fun like that! What was wrong with her that she never had social experiences like the people whose pictures she was staring at longingly? Then she looked closer. Wait a minute! She was actually in one of those pictures! She was at that party! And she remembered clearly how miserable she had been that night.
We cannot know what goes on in another person’s world. When we envy what another person has, we’re artificially focusing on one element of their lives and not considering the full picture. Yes, she may be a physically beautiful women, but she may also struggle in her marriage. One person may seem to have it easy financially, but feel incredible frustration with his children. While this truth shouldn’t necessarily console us, and we shouldn’t rejoice at someone else’s suffering, we should always remember that when we fixate our focus on one thing a person has, we skew our perspective and forget that a person possesses a whole pekelach (there is no English translation for this word) called “their lives”. Hyper focusing on one quality (their children, their money, their seemingly easy marital relationship) is skewed and unrealistically incomplete. We cannot know the full picture that makes up another person’s life.
And let’s remember that the Jewish approach is, in essence, the antithesis of Facebook (sorry Mr. Zuckerburg). And that is, if you’ve got it, please don’t flaunt it. Try to be the kind of person who doesn’t create jealousy in other people. Don’t create constriction or fester inadequacy in another person through your words or actions. If your friend is struggling to have a second child, don’t complain about how overwhelmed you are with your four kids. If your cousin is struggling financially, don’t offer all the details about your latest trip to the Carribean. Always be mindful of what you are creating in the inner world of another person.
When the wicked prophet Bilaam was commissioned to curse the Jews, he stood at the top of a mountain to deliver his curse. But he was tongue tied. He simply couldn’t curse the Jewish people and instead involuntarily praised them. What was it that he saw? He witnessed that their tents were all aligned facing opposite each other, so no one could see what went on in the tent of their neighbor. This was of course for the sake of modesty, but it was also based on the desire of the Jewish people to not create longing in another person based on what they possessed. That’s a quality we would do well to emulate.
One of the most ennobling requests Judaism makes of us is that we become more aware of what we feel, and instead of suffering with our feelings, start to think constructively about what our feeling are telling us. Are we jealous? What is it we’re jealous of? When I work with my clients and I hear a lot of negative self talk or judgment toward another person, I will often ask them, “What is it they have that you want?” This isn’t an easy question and the answer usually takes a while to come out. But ultimately, we get to the heart of what the person longs for. And then the life coaching begins. How can I set out to achieve what it is that I want? If I long for another person’s marriage, what can I do within my own, to create the kind of pleasure and intimacy that I see? If I desire another person’s success, what goals can I set in my own life to get what I want? Jealousy, like any other emotion, is there to tell us what we need to do next. Identify the feeling, acknowledge that you’re feeling jealous, and then start constructively crafting for yourself some authentic goals for realistically getting what you want. When you think this way, you start to flip the painful feeling of jealousy into the fulfillment of your own personal potential. This ability is within all of us, and it’s a wonderful way to live.
Do we understand what jealousy is?
One of the most compelling qualities of jealousy is that it’s often not the thing itself that we desire so much. It’s that someone else has it, and we don’t. In jealousy-speak, your gain is my loss. Call it pettiness. Call it insecurity. Whatever you call it, it’s draining and hurtful to be constantly looking over your shoulder and feeling desire for what you perceive to be someone else’s level of success and feeling the pain of lack in your own life. When I perceive you as having something that I don’t, it immediately engenders in me a feeling of inadequacy. What’s wrong with me that I don’t possess this? That feeling of inadequacy gets expressed in two ways. One way is inward (“I could never have what this guy has. I just don’t have what it takes”). The other is outward (“That guy is such an arrogant jerk. Just listen to him name drop!) Whether we bring our jealousy inward in the form of a low self concept, or outward in the form of judging others and declaring them unworthy, the bottom line is this powerful negative impulse skews our perspective and in the end, hurts no one but ourselves. And it keeps us from feeling joy for others’ success and even creates within us a vague feeling of pleasure in others’ misfortune. This is a painful way to live.
Jealousy can range from the obvious: someone else’s home, car, physical beauty, or financial standing, to the more subtle: other people’s children, a quality we perceive in someone else’s marriage, a perception of another’s success. It can be even more sublime: an intangible quality of a magnetic personality or a fabulous sense of humor. But the common denominator is we are always left with the painful feeling that we just don’t measure up. And that feeling hurts.
Let’s also stand apart from the culture we live in and observe some of the emotional fallout that we experience rampantly in our times. We live in a Facebook culture, where one person chooses to divulge only the most flattering glimpse of their lives and display it for public consumption. That leaves us, sneeking an unrealistic peek at someone else’s marriage, home life or vacation and automatically processing it inwardly to our detriment. “I don’t have that! What’s wrong with me?” I’ll never forget a story a friend of mine told me. She was looking at her friend’s Facebook page, agonizing over what she perceived as the incredible fun everyone seemed to be having. She never felt calm and secure enough to have fun like that! What was wrong with her that she never had social experiences like the people whose pictures she was staring at longingly? Then she looked closer. Wait a minute! She was actually in one of those pictures! She was at that party! And she remembered clearly how miserable she had been that night.
We cannot know what goes on in another person’s world. When we envy what another person has, we’re artificially focusing on one element of their lives and not considering the full picture. Yes, she may be a physically beautiful women, but she may also struggle in her marriage. One person may seem to have it easy financially, but feel incredible frustration with his children. While this truth shouldn’t necessarily console us, and we shouldn’t rejoice at someone else’s suffering, we should always remember that when we fixate our focus on one thing a person has, we skew our perspective and forget that a person possesses a whole pekelach (there is no English translation for this word) called “their lives”. Hyper focusing on one quality (their children, their money, their seemingly easy marital relationship) is skewed and unrealistically incomplete. We cannot know the full picture that makes up another person’s life.
And let’s remember that the Jewish approach is, in essence, the antithesis of Facebook (sorry Mr. Zuckerburg). And that is, if you’ve got it, please don’t flaunt it. Try to be the kind of person who doesn’t create jealousy in other people. Don’t create constriction or fester inadequacy in another person through your words or actions. If your friend is struggling to have a second child, don’t complain about how overwhelmed you are with your four kids. If your cousin is struggling financially, don’t offer all the details about your latest trip to the Carribean. Always be mindful of what you are creating in the inner world of another person.
When the wicked prophet Bilaam was commissioned to curse the Jews, he stood at the top of a mountain to deliver his curse. But he was tongue tied. He simply couldn’t curse the Jewish people and instead involuntarily praised them. What was it that he saw? He witnessed that their tents were all aligned facing opposite each other, so no one could see what went on in the tent of their neighbor. This was of course for the sake of modesty, but it was also based on the desire of the Jewish people to not create longing in another person based on what they possessed. That’s a quality we would do well to emulate.
One of the most ennobling requests Judaism makes of us is that we become more aware of what we feel, and instead of suffering with our feelings, start to think constructively about what our feeling are telling us. Are we jealous? What is it we’re jealous of? When I work with my clients and I hear a lot of negative self talk or judgment toward another person, I will often ask them, “What is it they have that you want?” This isn’t an easy question and the answer usually takes a while to come out. But ultimately, we get to the heart of what the person longs for. And then the life coaching begins. How can I set out to achieve what it is that I want? If I long for another person’s marriage, what can I do within my own, to create the kind of pleasure and intimacy that I see? If I desire another person’s success, what goals can I set in my own life to get what I want? Jealousy, like any other emotion, is there to tell us what we need to do next. Identify the feeling, acknowledge that you’re feeling jealous, and then start constructively crafting for yourself some authentic goals for realistically getting what you want. When you think this way, you start to flip the painful feeling of jealousy into the fulfillment of your own personal potential. This ability is within all of us, and it’s a wonderful way to live.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Acquiring a Sukkah Consciousness
Imagine this: The Jewish people finally escape from the Land of Egypt. They begin a long, arduous journey through the desert, a journey into the unknown, fraught with dangers, tremendous difficulty and unexpected challenges. A journey that encompasses the full spectrum of emotions; fear and happiness, triumph and despair; doubt and optimism. It was truly a journey of life!
What allowed our ancestors to maintain their optimism in the face of such enormous challenge was the gift of an ongoing experience of the Almighty’s presence. Throughout their travels, God hovered over them in a cloud, allowing them to feel safe amidst danger, comforted amidst uncertainty, and ultimately joyful. Even though they slept in flimsy huts, they knew they were not alone, and although they were human beings with genuine human emotions (and they rebelled and quarreled, just like us enlightened, modern Jews), they functioned from a foundation of belief in the ongoing protection from a loving Father in heaven.
Today we don’t sleep in flimsy huts. Most of us abide comfortably in large homes made of wood and stone, behind protective fences and security alarms. We have ample food to eat, heat and air conditioning to protect us from the elements, and closets full of clothes. We can be reached by anyone at anytime within a breath and we can manage our most important affairs in the palms of our hands with our I-Phones, I-Pads or Blackberries. And yet we have never felt more vulnerable. With all the unparalleled technology, medical advancements and luxuries of every sort, we are anxious and uncertain, and rarely joyful.
Both my husband and I try to teach without handwringing about all the “evils of the world out there.” We both feel that Judaism speaks for itself, and it doesn’t need to be contrasted to the “big bad modern world” to make a powerful case. Yet, we both see clearly that, more than anything, this generation is characterized by a lack of menuchat ha nefesh, peace in the soul. Sometimes it comes from a paralyzing financial uncertainty, other times from marital strife or frustration in parenting. Many people feel alone and feel fundamentally misunderstood, others have come to define themselves through their jobs and bank accounts, and with those diminished, feel diminished as well. Too many people equate their possessions, degrees, or job status with their sense of self worth. Many feel stressed, depressed, helpless or angry, and if they don’t, they are intimately connected with someone who does.
Enter the holiday of Sukkot, which, more than anything, is about vulnerability, joy and faith.
The vulnerability part is clear: the Torah tells us for one week we are to move out of our solid homes into temporary structures, with organic roofs through which one can see the stars. We are exposed to heat, cold and rain. We talk in the sukkah, we read and nap in the sukkah, and some sleep overnight in the sukkah (I guess you could text in the sukkah too, but I would try to avoid it). No matter how large and lavish the sukkah, dwelling in a sukkah drives home our vulnerability to life’s vicissitudes.
In the fast-paced, competitive and materialistic world we live in, it seems like many of us feel as vulnerable as sukkah dwellers. And yet, the vulnerability we feel today is the diametric opposite of the emotion produced by the sukkah’s vulnerability.
Amongst all the festivals, Sukkot alone is designated as the “time of our joy.” It is a mitzvah to be in a conscious state of joy throughout the week of living in this temporary, organic structure. Somehow the Torah is telling us that true joy is the result of vulnerability. How can this be?
The holiday of Sukkot is an exercise of faith. True faith is not the belief that, because God runs the world, everything will turn out exactly the way we want it to. True faith is that because God runs the world, however things turn out, both in the world at large and in our own private world, is an expression of His love for us and is for our ultimate good.
When we leave our cozy homes to dwell in the sukkah, we leave behind the illusion of security that our homes give us and enter the true security; the comfort and joy of dwelling with the Divine Presence. While rain may drench the sukkah, and winds may tear at the walls, “sukkah consciousness” is the awareness of the proximity of God, the awareness that we are never alone, and the knowledge that our whole life, with all its challenges, is a tailor-made gift designed uniquely for each of us from a God whose love for us is absolute and unconditional.
According to Jewish law, a sukkah must have at least three walls. It is as if God is wrapping His arms around you, welcoming you with His embrace. Come, step out of your home and all the anxieties that lie within. Enter a sukkat shalom, a sukkah of peace. Sit inside its walls, take a moment and look around. See the blessings that surround you. Know the Almighty is in charge. Glimpse the night sky and know He loves you. Experience the emotion the Torah calls true joy; the joy that comes from the faith that we are never alone.
What allowed our ancestors to maintain their optimism in the face of such enormous challenge was the gift of an ongoing experience of the Almighty’s presence. Throughout their travels, God hovered over them in a cloud, allowing them to feel safe amidst danger, comforted amidst uncertainty, and ultimately joyful. Even though they slept in flimsy huts, they knew they were not alone, and although they were human beings with genuine human emotions (and they rebelled and quarreled, just like us enlightened, modern Jews), they functioned from a foundation of belief in the ongoing protection from a loving Father in heaven.
Today we don’t sleep in flimsy huts. Most of us abide comfortably in large homes made of wood and stone, behind protective fences and security alarms. We have ample food to eat, heat and air conditioning to protect us from the elements, and closets full of clothes. We can be reached by anyone at anytime within a breath and we can manage our most important affairs in the palms of our hands with our I-Phones, I-Pads or Blackberries. And yet we have never felt more vulnerable. With all the unparalleled technology, medical advancements and luxuries of every sort, we are anxious and uncertain, and rarely joyful.
Both my husband and I try to teach without handwringing about all the “evils of the world out there.” We both feel that Judaism speaks for itself, and it doesn’t need to be contrasted to the “big bad modern world” to make a powerful case. Yet, we both see clearly that, more than anything, this generation is characterized by a lack of menuchat ha nefesh, peace in the soul. Sometimes it comes from a paralyzing financial uncertainty, other times from marital strife or frustration in parenting. Many people feel alone and feel fundamentally misunderstood, others have come to define themselves through their jobs and bank accounts, and with those diminished, feel diminished as well. Too many people equate their possessions, degrees, or job status with their sense of self worth. Many feel stressed, depressed, helpless or angry, and if they don’t, they are intimately connected with someone who does.
Enter the holiday of Sukkot, which, more than anything, is about vulnerability, joy and faith.
The vulnerability part is clear: the Torah tells us for one week we are to move out of our solid homes into temporary structures, with organic roofs through which one can see the stars. We are exposed to heat, cold and rain. We talk in the sukkah, we read and nap in the sukkah, and some sleep overnight in the sukkah (I guess you could text in the sukkah too, but I would try to avoid it). No matter how large and lavish the sukkah, dwelling in a sukkah drives home our vulnerability to life’s vicissitudes.
In the fast-paced, competitive and materialistic world we live in, it seems like many of us feel as vulnerable as sukkah dwellers. And yet, the vulnerability we feel today is the diametric opposite of the emotion produced by the sukkah’s vulnerability.
Amongst all the festivals, Sukkot alone is designated as the “time of our joy.” It is a mitzvah to be in a conscious state of joy throughout the week of living in this temporary, organic structure. Somehow the Torah is telling us that true joy is the result of vulnerability. How can this be?
The holiday of Sukkot is an exercise of faith. True faith is not the belief that, because God runs the world, everything will turn out exactly the way we want it to. True faith is that because God runs the world, however things turn out, both in the world at large and in our own private world, is an expression of His love for us and is for our ultimate good.
When we leave our cozy homes to dwell in the sukkah, we leave behind the illusion of security that our homes give us and enter the true security; the comfort and joy of dwelling with the Divine Presence. While rain may drench the sukkah, and winds may tear at the walls, “sukkah consciousness” is the awareness of the proximity of God, the awareness that we are never alone, and the knowledge that our whole life, with all its challenges, is a tailor-made gift designed uniquely for each of us from a God whose love for us is absolute and unconditional.
According to Jewish law, a sukkah must have at least three walls. It is as if God is wrapping His arms around you, welcoming you with His embrace. Come, step out of your home and all the anxieties that lie within. Enter a sukkat shalom, a sukkah of peace. Sit inside its walls, take a moment and look around. See the blessings that surround you. Know the Almighty is in charge. Glimpse the night sky and know He loves you. Experience the emotion the Torah calls true joy; the joy that comes from the faith that we are never alone.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Yom Kippur: Father’s Day for the Jewish People
Yom Kippur is coming up, and it’s an awesome day, a day that can effect total transformation and create closure for us in a way that can only be described in one way...an absolute gift from the Almighty. But even if we focus ourselves and do the necessary work of Yom Kippur, we know that within hours, days or weeks we’ll most likely make the same mistakes again, fall into the same habits, say the same hurtful words, waste time in the exact same way. Aren’t we being hypocritical as we sit there in synagogue offering heartfelt apologies for behaviors we’ll most likely slide right back into by Sunday morning? Who are we fooling?
No, we are not being hypocrites. I recently heard from Rebbetzin Lori Palatnik that the day of Yom Kippur has been called “Father’s Day for the Jewish People.” We know God is often referred to as a father: we call him our Father in Heaven, we say the Avinu Malkeinu (our Father, our King) on Rosh HaShana. And what do we do on Father’s Day? We take dad out, we make him breakfast, we buy him a tie, we make him central to our day, we treat him like a king. For that day, our dad is a king. A few days pass, and we fall back into old habits. We forget to call him, we snap at him on the phone, we get too busy and distracted to put him on center stage. After all, we have a life, and we’re busy!
Was it all in vain? No. In essence, on Father’s Day, we get a moment of clarity. We stop the insanity of our busy lives. We remember what this man did for us, we focus on what it means to live from a place of gratitude, we take the pleasure of honoring him in the way he should be honored. And then we lose that consciousness once again. But for the day, our dad is a king, and we are at our best. Our most aware. Our most focused. Our most grateful. We are saying, “Dad, I don’t always come through for you. But this is me at my best. This is who I really want to be.”
And this, too, is Yom Kippur. The whole year, we’re insane! Running, ruminating, planning, distracted, preoccupied, no time for God! And then Yom Kippur comes. And we remember what it means to be focused and we put forth our best selves; thoughtful, remorseful, reflective, honest. Just like with our human father, we are making the statement, “God, I know I lose sight of my potential. But as I stand here today, I know how great I can be. I know Your love for me is infinite, and I want to build a relationship with you. Even if I can’t sustain this awareness, I feel it now. This is me at my best.”
We all make mistakes. Errors in judgment do not make us hypocrites, they are part of being human. We all fall. If we treat our father like a king on one day and then lose our temper one week later, we are not hypocrites. We are human beings. On Yom Kippur, we make a lot of resolutions to ourselves and to God. “I want to be better. Kinder. Calmer. More religious. More honest.” And then we slip. But for one day, we strive. “If I could really be on this level, this is who I would be. This is me at my best.”
Recently I heard a short, powerful story I want to share with you. A couple lived on a small settlement on the West Bank. They were arguing quite a lot and the husband often left the house in the morning highly irritated and feeling wronged. But after 7 or 8 minutes, his wife would get the inevitable phone call. “Sarah, it’s me. I’m sorry for what I said. I love you very much.”
Why the turn around? In order for this man to get to work, he had to travel through a tunnel where there had been frequent sniper fire and terrible tragedies. The tunnel was coined the “Tunnel of Love,” because everyone who passed through it was faced with the precious and fleeting nature of life, the incredible importance of their relationships, and the illusion of all their anger. After all, this could be the last moment, and how do we want to leave this world? And so, whenever this man passed through the tunnel, his whole perspective would shift and he would call his wife. “I love you. I can’t always be at my best, but this is who I really am. I love you, and I’m sorry.”
Yom Kippur is clarity time. It is the tunnel of love. It is a time to formulate a picture of our ideal selves, unhampered by the roar of the ego and all the body’s desires. On this day, we see ourselves as the great creation we really are; made in the image of God, a piece of God Himself, pure and with a worth that is absolute and immutable. If, with this awareness, we resolve to do things we cannot sustain, we are not hypocrites. We are human beings, doing the very best we can.
Have an easy and meaningful fast and a powerful Yom Kippur.
With best wishes,
Rabbi David and Ali
No, we are not being hypocrites. I recently heard from Rebbetzin Lori Palatnik that the day of Yom Kippur has been called “Father’s Day for the Jewish People.” We know God is often referred to as a father: we call him our Father in Heaven, we say the Avinu Malkeinu (our Father, our King) on Rosh HaShana. And what do we do on Father’s Day? We take dad out, we make him breakfast, we buy him a tie, we make him central to our day, we treat him like a king. For that day, our dad is a king. A few days pass, and we fall back into old habits. We forget to call him, we snap at him on the phone, we get too busy and distracted to put him on center stage. After all, we have a life, and we’re busy!
Was it all in vain? No. In essence, on Father’s Day, we get a moment of clarity. We stop the insanity of our busy lives. We remember what this man did for us, we focus on what it means to live from a place of gratitude, we take the pleasure of honoring him in the way he should be honored. And then we lose that consciousness once again. But for the day, our dad is a king, and we are at our best. Our most aware. Our most focused. Our most grateful. We are saying, “Dad, I don’t always come through for you. But this is me at my best. This is who I really want to be.”
And this, too, is Yom Kippur. The whole year, we’re insane! Running, ruminating, planning, distracted, preoccupied, no time for God! And then Yom Kippur comes. And we remember what it means to be focused and we put forth our best selves; thoughtful, remorseful, reflective, honest. Just like with our human father, we are making the statement, “God, I know I lose sight of my potential. But as I stand here today, I know how great I can be. I know Your love for me is infinite, and I want to build a relationship with you. Even if I can’t sustain this awareness, I feel it now. This is me at my best.”
We all make mistakes. Errors in judgment do not make us hypocrites, they are part of being human. We all fall. If we treat our father like a king on one day and then lose our temper one week later, we are not hypocrites. We are human beings. On Yom Kippur, we make a lot of resolutions to ourselves and to God. “I want to be better. Kinder. Calmer. More religious. More honest.” And then we slip. But for one day, we strive. “If I could really be on this level, this is who I would be. This is me at my best.”
Recently I heard a short, powerful story I want to share with you. A couple lived on a small settlement on the West Bank. They were arguing quite a lot and the husband often left the house in the morning highly irritated and feeling wronged. But after 7 or 8 minutes, his wife would get the inevitable phone call. “Sarah, it’s me. I’m sorry for what I said. I love you very much.”
Why the turn around? In order for this man to get to work, he had to travel through a tunnel where there had been frequent sniper fire and terrible tragedies. The tunnel was coined the “Tunnel of Love,” because everyone who passed through it was faced with the precious and fleeting nature of life, the incredible importance of their relationships, and the illusion of all their anger. After all, this could be the last moment, and how do we want to leave this world? And so, whenever this man passed through the tunnel, his whole perspective would shift and he would call his wife. “I love you. I can’t always be at my best, but this is who I really am. I love you, and I’m sorry.”
Yom Kippur is clarity time. It is the tunnel of love. It is a time to formulate a picture of our ideal selves, unhampered by the roar of the ego and all the body’s desires. On this day, we see ourselves as the great creation we really are; made in the image of God, a piece of God Himself, pure and with a worth that is absolute and immutable. If, with this awareness, we resolve to do things we cannot sustain, we are not hypocrites. We are human beings, doing the very best we can.
Have an easy and meaningful fast and a powerful Yom Kippur.
With best wishes,
Rabbi David and Ali
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
It's All About Love
Who are we kidding? When most of us contemplate the oncoming holidays, we feel a low-level dread…Judgment Day…Time to be serious and thoughtful… time to recite a bunch of things that we don’t understand…what are you wearing?...get me out of here!
It is true, Rosh Hashana is the Day of Judgment, but our relationship to it can come from an entirely different place and we can experience it in a completely different way.
To understand these powerful days, we need to take a look at what comes before it. Just like any big event, examination or life transforming experience, a person needs to be prepared. That’s what the month of Elul is all about; the requisite time we need to come to Rosh Hashana prepared, focused, mindful. However, when we look at a deeper dimension of the meaning of the word Elul, we find something interesting. The word Elul (spelled aleph, lamed, vov, lamed) is an acronym for the verse in the Song of Songs, “Ani l’Dodi, v’ Dodi L’i”; I am for my beloved and my beloved is for me.” The month of Elul does not mean, “You better get your act together or you’re gonna get zapped!” It’s a statement of love and the ultimate expression of God’s desire to have a relationship with us. Yes, us. The ones are too distracted, too hyper-scheduled and way too over extended to commit to yet another pursuit…a relationship with the Almighty! Sound like you? The forty days from the beginning of the month of Elul until Yom Kippur are God’s ultimate expression of desire…for a relationship with you.
Let’s understand this lofty concept with a down-to-earth story I recently heard.
Recently a very successful business man shared his distress with a good friend, from whom I heard this powerful story. He was a high-level executive at an investment bank who helped large companies make money. He was always travelling around the world, and was supposed to be in China the previous week but his trip was cancelled.
“Charlie,” he mourned. “You are so lucky. Wait until you get older. Last week I walked in unexpected to my house after my trip was cancelled. I walked into my son’s room who is sixteen years old. He was texting, video chatting, and on his cell, all at the same time. He barely looked up when I came in. Later that night I heard him talking with his friend. ‘Man, I hate when my dad’s home. I’ve got to watch my curfew, check my breath, watch my hiding spots, it’s such a drag.’ “
The man continued. “I live my whole life to provide for these kids. You think I want to live in an airport? Doesn’t he realize that when I ask him about his life and I care about what’s going on with him that it’s for his benefit, not mine?”
The man looked at Charlie. “You are so lucky,” he repeated. “Your kids are still young. When you turn that key in the door, they run right to you. Daddy’s home! Daddy’ home! No matter what’s going on, for that moment daddy’s home. For that moment there’s nothing wrong with the world.”
This is the meaning of Rosh Hashana. Of course the Almighty is always with us, loves us always and is behind every event of every size in our lives. There is nothing that exists without God’s will and his absolute goodness and love behind it. But during these days God comes home to an even greater degree.
Do we even want him home?
On Rosh Hashana the key is in the door and daddy is home. God really is our loving Father but with a twist. He is perfect. He has no needs. He wants us to have a relationship with him for our sake, out of his absolute love for us. Although it may be hard to relate to, the highest level of pleasure we can have is a relationship with the Source of all goodness.
These are the critical moments where we have a choice to make. We can prepare for the holidays with the understanding that it is all about love. “Ani v’Dodi v’Dodi L’i.” I am for my beloved and beloved is for me. My father is home and He wants to have a relationship with me. There is no greater pleasure I could possibly have. Or we can slip into the gravitational pull of that sixteen year old. We can feel guilty, disconnected, irritated at being imposed on, and lay low until the whole thing is over.
Understand that if we’re not looking forward to Him coming home, we don’t need to be hard on ourselves. But what we should do is take some time from our schedules to contemplate what it means to have a relationship with the Creator of the world. To feel genuine appreciation for the goodness of your life, from your eyesight to your memory to your ability to swallow and form words. From the food you eat to the child at your table. To believe that He actually hears and cares about the words we say to Him. To contemplate what it means to be loved absolutely by Him, despite any shortcomings we have. To think of what we can do to live a life with a little more clarity, a little more purpose, to want meaning in our lives just a little bit more. To feel the joy as the key turns in the door.
Is there a better way to start Judgment Day?
It is true, Rosh Hashana is the Day of Judgment, but our relationship to it can come from an entirely different place and we can experience it in a completely different way.
To understand these powerful days, we need to take a look at what comes before it. Just like any big event, examination or life transforming experience, a person needs to be prepared. That’s what the month of Elul is all about; the requisite time we need to come to Rosh Hashana prepared, focused, mindful. However, when we look at a deeper dimension of the meaning of the word Elul, we find something interesting. The word Elul (spelled aleph, lamed, vov, lamed) is an acronym for the verse in the Song of Songs, “Ani l’Dodi, v’ Dodi L’i”; I am for my beloved and my beloved is for me.” The month of Elul does not mean, “You better get your act together or you’re gonna get zapped!” It’s a statement of love and the ultimate expression of God’s desire to have a relationship with us. Yes, us. The ones are too distracted, too hyper-scheduled and way too over extended to commit to yet another pursuit…a relationship with the Almighty! Sound like you? The forty days from the beginning of the month of Elul until Yom Kippur are God’s ultimate expression of desire…for a relationship with you.
Let’s understand this lofty concept with a down-to-earth story I recently heard.
Recently a very successful business man shared his distress with a good friend, from whom I heard this powerful story. He was a high-level executive at an investment bank who helped large companies make money. He was always travelling around the world, and was supposed to be in China the previous week but his trip was cancelled.
“Charlie,” he mourned. “You are so lucky. Wait until you get older. Last week I walked in unexpected to my house after my trip was cancelled. I walked into my son’s room who is sixteen years old. He was texting, video chatting, and on his cell, all at the same time. He barely looked up when I came in. Later that night I heard him talking with his friend. ‘Man, I hate when my dad’s home. I’ve got to watch my curfew, check my breath, watch my hiding spots, it’s such a drag.’ “
The man continued. “I live my whole life to provide for these kids. You think I want to live in an airport? Doesn’t he realize that when I ask him about his life and I care about what’s going on with him that it’s for his benefit, not mine?”
The man looked at Charlie. “You are so lucky,” he repeated. “Your kids are still young. When you turn that key in the door, they run right to you. Daddy’s home! Daddy’ home! No matter what’s going on, for that moment daddy’s home. For that moment there’s nothing wrong with the world.”
This is the meaning of Rosh Hashana. Of course the Almighty is always with us, loves us always and is behind every event of every size in our lives. There is nothing that exists without God’s will and his absolute goodness and love behind it. But during these days God comes home to an even greater degree.
Do we even want him home?
On Rosh Hashana the key is in the door and daddy is home. God really is our loving Father but with a twist. He is perfect. He has no needs. He wants us to have a relationship with him for our sake, out of his absolute love for us. Although it may be hard to relate to, the highest level of pleasure we can have is a relationship with the Source of all goodness.
These are the critical moments where we have a choice to make. We can prepare for the holidays with the understanding that it is all about love. “Ani v’Dodi v’Dodi L’i.” I am for my beloved and beloved is for me. My father is home and He wants to have a relationship with me. There is no greater pleasure I could possibly have. Or we can slip into the gravitational pull of that sixteen year old. We can feel guilty, disconnected, irritated at being imposed on, and lay low until the whole thing is over.
Understand that if we’re not looking forward to Him coming home, we don’t need to be hard on ourselves. But what we should do is take some time from our schedules to contemplate what it means to have a relationship with the Creator of the world. To feel genuine appreciation for the goodness of your life, from your eyesight to your memory to your ability to swallow and form words. From the food you eat to the child at your table. To believe that He actually hears and cares about the words we say to Him. To contemplate what it means to be loved absolutely by Him, despite any shortcomings we have. To think of what we can do to live a life with a little more clarity, a little more purpose, to want meaning in our lives just a little bit more. To feel the joy as the key turns in the door.
Is there a better way to start Judgment Day?
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Dreams of Greatness, Modified…
What do we dream of for our children? What visions of greatness do we harbor as we watch them on the soccer field? At school? At the piano? What do we see that disappoints us and makes us feel slightly unsettled, wondering if they’re really going to be okay? What lackings in academics, social graces, physical appearance and athletic abilities obsess our days and nights and leave us thoroughly concerned about their futures as successful, well adjusted adults?
To what degree are we guilty of a syndrome Dr. Wendy Mogel calls “Achievement by Proxy", where the realization that our kids may be just average becomes a painful reminder of our own, ordinary selves? After all, we may not be that accomplished, but at least our kids will be extraordinary achievers!
One of the most powerful parenting lessons I’ve ever learned didn’t come from a contemporary book on raising children. It comes from our Holy Torah, in the book of Shmuel. There we meet Chana, who was desperate to conceive and prayed fervently to God for a child. “Just one child God,” she pleaded. “You created the entire world. You hold the key to all souls, isn’t there just one for me?”
Chana then goes on in her prayer, presenting it in a way that can enlighten even the most thoroughly modern parent. “Give me a child among men,” she pleaded. A child among men. What does that mean?
The Talmud tells us something unusual about Chana’s prayer. She didn’t ask that he be a doctor or lawyer, be the next Surgeon General, get an athletic scholarship to Yale or be first (okay, tenth!) in his class at Highland Park High School. She didn’t even ask for the wisest, most righteous or most well-liked among the people of Israel. Why wouldn’t she have wanted a beautiful child? A gifted child? An amazing athlete? What was wrong with her?
Chana prayed for a son who would not stand out physically, intellectually, athletically. She hoped for an average child, or what we call Jewishly, a mensch.
Chana’s prayer tells us volumes about our own priorities as parents. What makes a child great is not her appearance, her musical talents, his athletic abilities, or his high IQ. As well meaning, devoted parents we have to take serious stock about our fixations regarding our precious charges.
What matters simply is their capacity for goodness, for kindness, for nice and simple thoughtfulness. Our focus on the larger, greater accomplishments detract from the real accomplishment of life; becoming a mensch.
Chana wanted an average child so that no external characteristic ( looks, smarts or any other defining abilities) would take away from the enormous imperative of being good, of caring for others, of growing as a human being and above all, craving a relationship with God.
What does this mean for us today? My sense is that it demands us to take a good look at ourselves, and to think about shifting the balance from great (in school, in social situations, on the field) to good (speaking considerately, helping others, being kind). It’s actually not easy to be a mensch. It’s not easy to think of others before yourself. It’s not easy to be sensitive to the moods and feelings of the people around us. It’s not easy to keep a smile on your face and cheer up others when things are tough. It’s not easy to rejoice for others when they get something you want and don’t have. It’s not easy to live without honor or recognition and remain secure in the knowledge that you’re doing your best to grow in goodness, kindness and compassion. You may have noticed this is even harder for us grownups than it is for our children!
But this is the basis for true growth as a person. Being a mensch is the true definition of greatness. Hard to achieve but available to everyone. How important is it to you?
Best Wishes,
Ali Begoun
What do we dream of for our children? What visions of greatness do we harbor as we watch them on the soccer field? At school? At the piano? What do we see that disappoints us and makes us feel slightly unsettled, wondering if they’re really going to be okay? What lackings in academics, social graces, physical appearance and athletic abilities obsess our days and nights and leave us thoroughly concerned about their futures as successful, well adjusted adults?
To what degree are we guilty of a syndrome Dr. Wendy Mogel calls “Achievement by Proxy", where the realization that our kids may be just average becomes a painful reminder of our own, ordinary selves? After all, we may not be that accomplished, but at least our kids will be extraordinary achievers!
One of the most powerful parenting lessons I’ve ever learned didn’t come from a contemporary book on raising children. It comes from our Holy Torah, in the book of Shmuel. There we meet Chana, who was desperate to conceive and prayed fervently to God for a child. “Just one child God,” she pleaded. “You created the entire world. You hold the key to all souls, isn’t there just one for me?”
Chana then goes on in her prayer, presenting it in a way that can enlighten even the most thoroughly modern parent. “Give me a child among men,” she pleaded. A child among men. What does that mean?
The Talmud tells us something unusual about Chana’s prayer. She didn’t ask that he be a doctor or lawyer, be the next Surgeon General, get an athletic scholarship to Yale or be first (okay, tenth!) in his class at Highland Park High School. She didn’t even ask for the wisest, most righteous or most well-liked among the people of Israel. Why wouldn’t she have wanted a beautiful child? A gifted child? An amazing athlete? What was wrong with her?
Chana prayed for a son who would not stand out physically, intellectually, athletically. She hoped for an average child, or what we call Jewishly, a mensch.
Chana’s prayer tells us volumes about our own priorities as parents. What makes a child great is not her appearance, her musical talents, his athletic abilities, or his high IQ. As well meaning, devoted parents we have to take serious stock about our fixations regarding our precious charges.
What matters simply is their capacity for goodness, for kindness, for nice and simple thoughtfulness. Our focus on the larger, greater accomplishments detract from the real accomplishment of life; becoming a mensch.
Chana wanted an average child so that no external characteristic ( looks, smarts or any other defining abilities) would take away from the enormous imperative of being good, of caring for others, of growing as a human being and above all, craving a relationship with God.
What does this mean for us today? My sense is that it demands us to take a good look at ourselves, and to think about shifting the balance from great (in school, in social situations, on the field) to good (speaking considerately, helping others, being kind). It’s actually not easy to be a mensch. It’s not easy to think of others before yourself. It’s not easy to be sensitive to the moods and feelings of the people around us. It’s not easy to keep a smile on your face and cheer up others when things are tough. It’s not easy to rejoice for others when they get something you want and don’t have. It’s not easy to live without honor or recognition and remain secure in the knowledge that you’re doing your best to grow in goodness, kindness and compassion. You may have noticed this is even harder for us grownups than it is for our children!
But this is the basis for true growth as a person. Being a mensch is the true definition of greatness. Hard to achieve but available to everyone. How important is it to you?
Best Wishes,
Ali Begoun
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Be an Effective Communicator
What makes a marriage healthy and positive? Is it the ability to get along, to stop fighting and live a life devoid of conflict? Not really. The single most common cause of marital disharmony today is the failure to communicate effectively. When couples are able to communicate effectively they can resolve even the most major of differences. But when couples do not have communication skills, every disagreement, no matter how insignificant, is grounds for serious tension, misunderstanding and pain.
What this means is that it’s absolutely okay to be different from your spouse, to enjoy different things and have vastly different tastes and preferences. It’s okay to be disappointed and fight. Some people believe that a healthy marriage is one where there isn’t conflict. Actually, the problem is not that couples fight, it’s how they fight. Good marriages are not characterized by the absence of disagreement; rather, the ease with which a couple can negotiate and work through their differences. If you’re encountering stress in your marriage, chances are it is not about differing views about money, your social world, raising your children, your intimate life, your renewed interest in your career, or whatever disagreement is currently burbling between you. Most likely it is simply that you haven’t learned how to communicate clearly and effectively without fighting, retreating into silence or feeling generally misunderstood.
Good communication isn’t a cure all, but it is the most powerful first step toward building more understanding in your marriage, of getting more of your needs met and of giving to your spouse in the way they really need.
So let’s begin at the beginning, and keep it simple so we can get the most out of this blog possible!
Express Negative Feelings Constructively
That’s number one. If you’re pressuring yourself to stop feeling bitter, resentful, disappointed or annoyed, forget about it! These feelings are an inevitable part of sharing your life with another human being with a vastly different personality (as you may have noticed), so be gentle with yourself and trust that negative feelings are normal and inevitable. We don’t have to worry when negative feelings come to the surface. The real question is how are we expressing these inevitable feelings? A healthy marriage is one where the space feels safe, meaning a couple learns to listen to each other and express themselves in a way that doesn’t cause pain. When negative feelings are vented in anger, sarcasm, ridicule or holding it all in in charged silence, a person doesn’t feel safe to share what’s on their mind. Deepening trust by expressing negative feelings constructively and genuinely listening to our spouse is what creates that safe space which we all yearn for in our marriage.
So how do we do it?
Rule #1: Do not exaggerate.
Try to avoid words like “always” and “never.” If your wife criticized you in front of the children, that doesn’t mean she “always” does it. If your husband forgot your son’s appointment with the pediatrician, it doesn’t mean he “never” puts the needs of the family first. Your husband “never” notices how nice you look, your wife “always” focuses on the kids instead of you. Let me guess, does your husband “always” forget to do his one household task, like take out the garbage? (Maybe I’m just projecting!)
Exaggerating helps us let off steam and gives us relief from our frustrations with our spouse, and it might be routed in partial truth. Your wife really might be compulsively clean and your husband might be overly obsessed with the Blackhawks. It doesn’t matter. Exaggeration only succeeds in causing our spouse to tune us out and feel totally discredited. “If I’m always making mistakes, why bother to try?”
Rule #2: Don’t be a mind reader.
How infuriating is it to be told that you had malicious motives or harmful intentions? When I assume that I know better than you what you were really thinking, I take your power away. Even if you are correct and you accurately assessed your spouse’s intentions, it simply hurts to tell them what they are thinking or the motivations for doing what they did.
Don’t assume and don’t guess what their motivations were letting the kids spend 3 hours straight playing video games. Ask them, and be prepared to listen to their response (the subject of next week’s blog).
Rule #3: As for what you want.
Instead of complaining about what’s wrong or not saying anything at all and letting the frustration fester until you hit your head on the coffee table and violently explode three days later, ask for what you want. Complaining is annoying and creates distance. An expression of a desire is clear and positive. What does this obvious yet untapped way of communicating look like?
Instead of “We never go out anymore,” how about, “I would really enjoy a date night once a week.”
Instead of whining, “I’m sick of cooking!”, try, “It would be a major relief to go out for dinner tonight.”
How about, “I’m not your maid!!” How would it sound to simply express, “I realize I have to up the amount of cleaning help in this house.”
For some reason we equate our spouse’s undying love for us with some kind of prophetic power, where they really should intuit our needs if they really loved us. Let go of that myth, stop complaining or retreating and ask for what you want.
Rule #4: Don’t generalize.
Resist broad, sweeping general statements and get specific! We generalize because we’re hurting and want to get it all in. But while it may temporarily satisfy us it makes it almost impossible for your spouse to hear you. If you find yourself complaining that your spouse doesn’t show you enough respect and consideration and seems to have almost no regard for your feelings, back up and regroup. Supply your spouse with the specific information they need to rectify their behavior. When our husband gets home and immediately starts glancing at his phone, it’s easy to go straight to letting him know how very invisible you feel and how utterly selfish and clueless he is. But you may have noticed that doesn’t really get you anywhere. Resist telling him what an ogre he is and instead try to calmly let him know that you would love him not to look at his phone when he first gets home.
Rule #5: Use more “I” statements and less “You” statements.
A criticism that begins with “You” generally feels like an attack. A comment like, “You don’t appreciate all the hard work I do to keep our family afloat” simply arouses defensiveness. You may be right. Your spouse may hardly ever praise you or show gratitude for all the work you do, and that hurts! But by beginning a complaint with “You”, we elicit defensiveness instead of empathy. It’s far more effective to express hurt feelings with “I” statements, such as, “Last night at dinner I felt you were criticizing me in front of the children when you told me not to start up again.”
This is a long list, I suggest you print it out and take it slow. Resist reading it quickly and shuttling it into cyberspace. Think about one point and how you could integrate it into your communication with your spouse. They are powerful points and can go a tremendous way toward improving any marriage.
Warm Regards,
Ali Begoun
What this means is that it’s absolutely okay to be different from your spouse, to enjoy different things and have vastly different tastes and preferences. It’s okay to be disappointed and fight. Some people believe that a healthy marriage is one where there isn’t conflict. Actually, the problem is not that couples fight, it’s how they fight. Good marriages are not characterized by the absence of disagreement; rather, the ease with which a couple can negotiate and work through their differences. If you’re encountering stress in your marriage, chances are it is not about differing views about money, your social world, raising your children, your intimate life, your renewed interest in your career, or whatever disagreement is currently burbling between you. Most likely it is simply that you haven’t learned how to communicate clearly and effectively without fighting, retreating into silence or feeling generally misunderstood.
Good communication isn’t a cure all, but it is the most powerful first step toward building more understanding in your marriage, of getting more of your needs met and of giving to your spouse in the way they really need.
So let’s begin at the beginning, and keep it simple so we can get the most out of this blog possible!
Express Negative Feelings Constructively
That’s number one. If you’re pressuring yourself to stop feeling bitter, resentful, disappointed or annoyed, forget about it! These feelings are an inevitable part of sharing your life with another human being with a vastly different personality (as you may have noticed), so be gentle with yourself and trust that negative feelings are normal and inevitable. We don’t have to worry when negative feelings come to the surface. The real question is how are we expressing these inevitable feelings? A healthy marriage is one where the space feels safe, meaning a couple learns to listen to each other and express themselves in a way that doesn’t cause pain. When negative feelings are vented in anger, sarcasm, ridicule or holding it all in in charged silence, a person doesn’t feel safe to share what’s on their mind. Deepening trust by expressing negative feelings constructively and genuinely listening to our spouse is what creates that safe space which we all yearn for in our marriage.
So how do we do it?
Rule #1: Do not exaggerate.
Try to avoid words like “always” and “never.” If your wife criticized you in front of the children, that doesn’t mean she “always” does it. If your husband forgot your son’s appointment with the pediatrician, it doesn’t mean he “never” puts the needs of the family first. Your husband “never” notices how nice you look, your wife “always” focuses on the kids instead of you. Let me guess, does your husband “always” forget to do his one household task, like take out the garbage? (Maybe I’m just projecting!)
Exaggerating helps us let off steam and gives us relief from our frustrations with our spouse, and it might be routed in partial truth. Your wife really might be compulsively clean and your husband might be overly obsessed with the Blackhawks. It doesn’t matter. Exaggeration only succeeds in causing our spouse to tune us out and feel totally discredited. “If I’m always making mistakes, why bother to try?”
Rule #2: Don’t be a mind reader.
How infuriating is it to be told that you had malicious motives or harmful intentions? When I assume that I know better than you what you were really thinking, I take your power away. Even if you are correct and you accurately assessed your spouse’s intentions, it simply hurts to tell them what they are thinking or the motivations for doing what they did.
Don’t assume and don’t guess what their motivations were letting the kids spend 3 hours straight playing video games. Ask them, and be prepared to listen to their response (the subject of next week’s blog).
Rule #3: As for what you want.
Instead of complaining about what’s wrong or not saying anything at all and letting the frustration fester until you hit your head on the coffee table and violently explode three days later, ask for what you want. Complaining is annoying and creates distance. An expression of a desire is clear and positive. What does this obvious yet untapped way of communicating look like?
Instead of “We never go out anymore,” how about, “I would really enjoy a date night once a week.”
Instead of whining, “I’m sick of cooking!”, try, “It would be a major relief to go out for dinner tonight.”
How about, “I’m not your maid!!” How would it sound to simply express, “I realize I have to up the amount of cleaning help in this house.”
For some reason we equate our spouse’s undying love for us with some kind of prophetic power, where they really should intuit our needs if they really loved us. Let go of that myth, stop complaining or retreating and ask for what you want.
Rule #4: Don’t generalize.
Resist broad, sweeping general statements and get specific! We generalize because we’re hurting and want to get it all in. But while it may temporarily satisfy us it makes it almost impossible for your spouse to hear you. If you find yourself complaining that your spouse doesn’t show you enough respect and consideration and seems to have almost no regard for your feelings, back up and regroup. Supply your spouse with the specific information they need to rectify their behavior. When our husband gets home and immediately starts glancing at his phone, it’s easy to go straight to letting him know how very invisible you feel and how utterly selfish and clueless he is. But you may have noticed that doesn’t really get you anywhere. Resist telling him what an ogre he is and instead try to calmly let him know that you would love him not to look at his phone when he first gets home.
Rule #5: Use more “I” statements and less “You” statements.
A criticism that begins with “You” generally feels like an attack. A comment like, “You don’t appreciate all the hard work I do to keep our family afloat” simply arouses defensiveness. You may be right. Your spouse may hardly ever praise you or show gratitude for all the work you do, and that hurts! But by beginning a complaint with “You”, we elicit defensiveness instead of empathy. It’s far more effective to express hurt feelings with “I” statements, such as, “Last night at dinner I felt you were criticizing me in front of the children when you told me not to start up again.”
This is a long list, I suggest you print it out and take it slow. Resist reading it quickly and shuttling it into cyberspace. Think about one point and how you could integrate it into your communication with your spouse. They are powerful points and can go a tremendous way toward improving any marriage.
Warm Regards,
Ali Begoun
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