Perhaps self evident:  When people are hurt or scared, we often protect ourselves by becoming spiky or hard – creating a shell or a wall.  As we shut down our feelings to prevent more distress, we shut down not just the painful feelings but all feelings.  As the spikes get sharper, the walls higher, we shut out not just the source of threat but everyone else.

In those times we have a choice — to be protected, isolated, and numb vs vulnerable, open, and vibrant.  While the latter sounds more obviously rich, it’s not a trivial risk.  When we “know” that the world is dangerous and people are “going to” hurt us, vulnerability isn’t an easy choice.

The paradox is that no matter how sharp the spikes nor high the walls, we’ll never be safe that way.  And, even more surprising – even miraculous – is that softening, opening, accepting… walking into the fires of vulnerability we actually find the deeper safety that we crave.

What’s the first step?

A few months ago Patty had routine physical, and her doctor ordered some tests, which came back positive so she needed a biopsy. While statistically odds were strong that it would be a nonissue, we were both a bit anxious – especially because of her cancer scare a few years ago.

We carefully didn’t say anything to the kids because we didn’t want to worry them.  But on the day Patty went for the biopsy, Max asked me in a quiet, serious voice:  “Does Mama need surgery again?”  (He was about 4 when she had surgery before.)

I was stuck by his ability to observe and “read between the lines.”  And, by the way this cancer fear stayed with him.

I suspect that in general kids see far more than we want them to.  From an evolutionary perspective it makes sense – there’s survival value in being able to read subtle cues.  Left to themselves kids will take those cues and make their own meaning, sometimes accurate, often exaggerated… but it’s important to remember that fear creeps in the absence of information.

What else are they seeing?  And what meaning are they making?

PS.  Patty’s biopsy was totally negative – which was a relief!  This was days before we were leaving for Borneo and South East Asia for six weeks, so it was fabulous to get this resolved before we went!

Does this scenario sound familiar? A manager perpetuates inefficient policies to protect his departmental “turf.” “Greg” wants assurances that all “his” numbers are credited to him. He is afraid to share credit on any project for fear of budget or position cuts. So Greg duplicates the work of other departments and won’t streamline processes. As Greg works diligently to protect his own fiefdom, he frustrates his staff and colleagues.

Ironically, if Greg made choices that benefited the greater good, his position would be more secure. Greg’s staff would be more motivated and his colleagues would recognize the value he adds to their division. But Greg doesn’t believe this. He is driven by fears of unseen number-crunchers. His paranoid conversations with the accounting department never go well. As he realizes (unconsciously) that his work lacks value, Greg may become more afraid and even create a self-fulfilling prophecy of what he most fears.

Greg may survive in the short-term but his refusal to face his real motivations will send a cognitive dissonance throughout his small department. His staff, colleagues and superiors will sense his hidden agendas, even if they cannot name them. These invisible drives, based on unconscious fears, will continue to undermine all work and Greg’s ability to inspire and lead.

I took the city bus to and from school starting in kindergarten or first grade.  I remember riding my bike across the city to school one day (remember it because I found a $10 bill!)  I was probably left a bit too much to my own devices, could be described as a “latchkey kid,” or maybe just “normal life for a kid with a working single mom.”  Not a lot of supervision… but I also started my first business when I was 12 and had my own checking account, and was paying my own taxes by 16, and from then have had an (overly?) strong sense of responsibility and self-efficacy.  I learned it early: I am responsible for my life.

But I am not treating my kids this way.  When she was 8 or 9, Emma went into a shop by herself (mom in the car outside) and it was a big deal to let her be so independent.  We live in different times!  Or do we?  I’ve wondered for years if there really is more danger to kids today, or we’re just hyper afraid?

So I enjoyed a “Here and Now” show today interviewing Lenore Skenazy (listen to the story).  Skenzay wrote an article about letting her nine-year-old son ride the train home and unleashed a torrent of criticism that she’s “the world’s worst mom.”  Recently she wrote Free Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedom We Had, Without Going Nuts With Worry — showing some important data — she writes a blog on the topic.

The book presents extensive statistical evidence that there is LESS child predation today than 20 or 30 years ago, and, in fact it is FAR more likely that your child will be killed in your own car driving to school than be abducted.  Yet the thought of letting my 10-year-old take a bus downtown to get ice cream fills me with angst… and we put the kids in the car every day.

Just in case it’s not obvious:  People are NOT rational!

In the face of this irrational but completely real and horrible fear, the facts become nearly irrelevant — and then we start making decisions carelessly.  Applying emotional intelligence, we need to understand the source of the fear, recognize the pattern of reaction, and then evalute the consequences.  In the face of this horrifying fear of child predation, I stop the evaluation.  The trick isn’t to ignore the feeling, but rather to go further.  I’m clear how I feel about the immediate risks, but how do I feel about the long term?  How do I feel if I shelter them so much they lack self-efficacy?   If I teach them to be afraid of the world?

To be clear, I believe in sheltering kids.  There is much in the “real world” that I abhor, and I see little value in exposing them to it “so they’ll be able to cope.”  The kids at 8 and 10 don’t watch commercial TV, we preview movies that aren’t rated G, and we have chosen to leave the city and live in a pastoral community surrounded by oak-covered hills and farms.  Nor I do I believe in passing on a legacy of fear and helplessness.  So somehow we need to find a balance of risk and safety — and perhaps Skenazy’s factual data can help us do so.

This morning I had planned to get my yearly blood test at a lab 15 minutes from home. But I was resistant. My days away from the office are sacred and my routine is precious to me. I meditate, have breakfast, meditate some more and write. It is a peaceful, joyful time. The blood work would completely interrupt my morning. I had to go immediately because these tests required fasting. I couldn’t have my morning coffee until I fulfilled this duty.

It was also extremely cold. I dressed and started the car but my mind continued its debate. I didn’t want to leave the warm cocoon of my morning. Especially not to fight traffic and get stuck by a needle in my vein! Why did I have to do these stupid tests anyway? Maybe I could wait until spring when the roads were clearer and the temperature above freezing? My doctor wouldn’t know and I’m a very healthy person…..

In my mind, I could see my mother, shaking her head. I was being a big baby. Go do the test. It’s once a year and not such a big deal. You can meditate in the car on the way there and back. Get it done and over with.

In the end, I got in the car and took the test. My second voice was right, it wasn’t a big deal and the results were desirable. Still, my internal debate revealed my dedication to my inner child and her questioning.

My family has always been nervous about my commitment to questioning, “why?” I don’t accept most adult conventions at face value. Does that make me harder to control? Probably. Is that why I’ve been pressured (like most of us) to abolish my childlike openness and the question “why?”

Being an adult shouldn’t only emphasize being “responsible.” It should stress being response-able, that is, being able to respond to life’s changing circumstances. Ironically, when we become adults and stop asking “why” we hinder our response-abilty. Too often we become automatic in our actions and simply follow a herd mentality.

How many of us aren’t living the lives we desire? We say we are forced to race from one activity to the next, short on sleep and a stranger to our loved ones (and ourselves). What would happen if we asked “why?” Why do we need to do what we do? Then, after the adult gives a standard answer, “bills have to be paid,” or “it’s expected,” or “people will think I’m crazy if I don’t do that,” find the child in you and keep asking “why?” Why do you have to pay the bills (in that way)? Why is it expected (and who expects it)? Why do you believe others and what they say? It is only when we begin to question our assumptions about life that we can make choices from our heart.

Despite my family’s fears, I don’t always give into my desires. This morning, the parental voice made the most sense. But other times, when I follow my intuition and the needs of my sensual self, circumstances usually arrange themselves ideally. When I am in dialogue with both parts of myself, I can find the flow of life, instead of always fighting the currents.