Last week I revisited a signature high school experience. While exiting a men’s room, a man around my own age, decided to step around me and block my exit. His face occupied a spacethree or four menacing inches from my own. You may be wondering as I did, “How did Dr. Tom get himself into this pickle?” And maybe even more importantly, “How was he gonna get himself out?” Funny how the need to consult resilience research can pop up at a moment’s notice!
The first causal link in the chain that led to this event probably took place too many years ago for either my fight club partner or me to bring to consciousness. So let me pick up the story where my wife, not me, saw it begin. As a parent of 400m and 800m track athletes, I have always held the belief (superstition?) that cheering for my kids at the 200 meter bend in the track wouldlhelp boost their performance for the final sprint to the finish line. What this has usually meant is that, just prior to their races, I generally leave the spot in the stands where my fellow home-team parents cheer to make my way to the designated spot across the oval. Last weekend was no different. At the end of the boys’ 400 meter heats, I abruptly realized that I should have made my way earlier. With that recognition, a rush of adrenaline propelled me to pop up and run down the bleachers to my designated cheering destination. Fortunately, I made it in time. Lizzie ran. I cheered. She did well enough to advance to the next round to see if she can qualify for the championship MSHSAA state meet next week.
On my way back to rejoin the fold of my fellow parents, I figured I would relieve nature. Whilst soaping my hands in the restroom basin long enough to complete the COVID-recommended full round of “Happy Birthday,” a fellow parent approached me with a red hot complaint. It had something to do with my having “disrespected” him, and ruining his experience, and having “blocked” the photograph of his son finishing his race. Unaware of my offense, I assured him that I did not see or hear him, nor was my intent ever to disrespect him. I told him I was sorry. My words didn’t seem to help. His need to harrumph continued. Was it the afternoon heat taking its toll on me? I knew better, but my inner Bill Murray kicked in and I uttered some version of the phrase, “Lighten up Francis” (Stripes, 1981). I remember seeing that movie in the theater, and thinking that, in real life, the Bill Murray character would have gotten punched. Well, in the movie, he didn’t…and thankfully, I didn’t… but I could have. The nose-to-nose impasse broke when I repeated my apology. But what made this story so sad was the sound of this man’s daughter, who appeared to be eight years old or so. She was begging him to stop. In that moment, I became aware that my ego-driven need to indulge my inner Bill Murray was a contributing factor to a little girl’s terror. He may have missed a photo. She didn’t. The little camera of her memory captured a forever photo of masculine energy run amuck. For my part in contributing to this moment, I have to forgive myself and do better next time!
Are you noticing what I’m noticing these days? It seems like there is a collective surge of cortisol running through our society. Is it a post-COVID thing? Is it a social-media-driven thing that celebrates, or at least normalizes aggression? I know that high blood levels of cortisol are correlated with poor health outcomes including early death. I also know that cortisol-driven behavior is associated with relationship failures. What is the impact on a society when the collective circulatory system is awash in fight or flight hormones? As you might imagine, this resilience researcher-psychotherapist, who is trying to lay claim to a life informed by the practice of the presence of God, has been riveted on last week’s experience trying to unpack it. There are two reflections I want to offer.
The Board Room of the Psyche
For many years I have conceived of the psyche as a board room whose membership is comprised of the various parts of the self. These include, among others, the inner-adolescent. Psychological growth involves noticing the parts of the self, and guiding them, with compassion and wisdom from the CEO’s chair in the inner board room. Adolescents are great at noticing injustice, so it’s good to listen to that member of the team in order to construct adult-modulated, appropriate actions. Adolescents tend to make bad CEO’s. I suspect that many years ago, the adolescent version of the man I encountered was wounded by somebody who should have respected him, and did not. Something about my lack of situational awareness at that track meet, not only ruined his photo, but touched that wound. Just like all those years ago, he felt disrespected.
For my part, I am the adult son of an alcoholic whose dad, often enough, behaved very much like the man who stood nose-to-nose with me last Saturday. I was able to get back to my inner CEO energy eventually, but not before my inner adolescent interacted with his inner-adolescent Bill Murray-style. I suspect, that for one depressing moment, we were adult twins of different fathers. Now for the second reflection on my post-urinaryconflict.
Beneath the Board Room
According to mystics of every tradition, there is a part of the self even deeper than the inner board room of the psyche. Mystics bear witness to a deeper-down place where the Transcendent pulses at the core of the self. Mystics know that God is even closer to us than our own breath. The practical corollary from this insight is that you and I can access that Presence at any given moment, and use it to channel a peace, or love, or patience that would be otherwise, beyond our own capacities. The trick is to figure out how to access that interior underground aquaferof peace, love, patience, kindness and generosity.
Here’s the way it works for me when I remember to use it. Let’s say I could go back in time. While the man was voicing his complaint, I would have begun breathing in my sacred word that I use during my sessions of contemplation. If my apology had no effect on him, I would have simply returned to that exercise of breathing my word in and out, and repeating the apology with deeper levels of heartfelt sorrow as the Spirit directed and allowed me. I have a friend who would handle it differently. She simply focuses on breathing in to the count of four, holding that breath to the count of four, and breathing out to the count of four. She would not agree with my theological analysis, even though I think she is anonymously accessing Divine Presence in her breathing exercises.
Sunday Morning Café Reflection/Discussion Questions:
Can I invite you to conduct a little psychological/spiritual inventory? Where are your cortisol levels these days? Are you consciously engaged in daily exercises that increase your peace? What are those exercises? Have you been contemplating something that you could add to those exercises (e.g. increased meditation or contemplation time? More time with a friend? More physical exercise? More hikes in nature?)? Are you good at noticing who is sitting in the CEO’s chair in your psyche’s board room? This article mentioned the “Inner Adolescent.” Do you know what he or she feels like within you? Are you aware of other parts of the self that can unhelpfully find their way to the CEO’s chair (E.G. The Inner Critic, The Inner Four Year Old?)? Do you know how to bring Loving Presence to a part of the self that has been wounded? Consider engaging in a conversation with a trusted friend utilizing one or two of these questions as prompts.