I love the act of listening to parents, one -on-one or in a group. Parents have so much love they want to give to their children and families, they work so hard at it, they summon unprecedented amounts of energy and persistence to love well. I love listening over time, and being privy to the creativity of parents, and to their successes in transforming difficult situations in their families into progress for their children and for themselves. I learn so much about what is humanly possible when you have flexible tools and some steady support! And besides that, I absolutely love being witness to my sons. They do so much better than I was able to do,
A woman I barely knew, at a weekend retreat, asked me what it was like to be a mother. I turned to her, looked at her, and began to sob. I almost never cried at that time in my life, but I cried uncontrollably for a quarter of an hour about barely being able to control strong impulses to be violent toward my two-year-old. I cried because I had vowed not to hit or hurt, but now felt like my father, who had spanked and raged at me and my brother when he was stressed, had suddenly inhabited my being. I cried because I didn't know how to control myself. She listened. She didn't interrupt or give me advice. She just stayed with me while I poured out my heart. When I went back to my boys after that fifteen minute outpouring, I was relaxed, patient, playful, and tolerant with my children! This began a learning curve I'm still on. I began learning to listen, and it opened for me the whole world of how people, both parents and children, can grow closer and heal from hurt.
When I was 11 or 12, our family went to a county fair and rodeo in my mother's home town. There was a young man there in jeans and boots, 20 years old, I would guess, who had entered a pick-up game of baseball with about 7 or 8 younger boys, none of whom seemed to know each other or him. I stopped to watch. He was kind, encouraging, and knew how to set gentle limits when a boy began to argue, criticize, or stomp off in a huff because of what someone else had done or said. He was unfailingly kind, and managed to keep the game going through one challenge after another. I had never seen a grownup handle kids' upsets with respect, and I felt like I had found the person I most trusted in the whole world that day, though I had no idea who he was or how he came to be so kind. I still treasure his memory--how he treated children made him a hero in my heart.
I want Hand in Hand Parenting to continue to grow and thrive, so millions of parents can learn to build effective support systems for themselves and their children.
Listening connects us and heals the hurt we carry--we can make a world of difference for one another by listening.