Oh Alessa, I’m so sorry, that must be hard 🙁 My condolences 🙏

Take your time, and take care ❤️

Hi Alessa,

No, not at all. It wasn’t you. I was just reflecting on some of the ways I’m not there for myself as much as I am for others and processing those feelings.

Oh I see. Good that you’re noticing if there’s an imbalance… Yeah, sometimes in an attempt to please others, we end up hurting ourselves, working against ourselves. And yes, the antidote is more self-compassion.❤️

I think the Bible might be talking about the same thing here: “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.” It sounds like the instruction to love both ourselves and others. The Bible calls it the second greatest commandment. And to me, it does seem like one of the preconditions for peace and understanding among individuals, and on a larger scale, among nations too. For a peaceful world.

Also, there’s the Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you”. I think if most people would respect that, the world would be a much better place… sorry for rambling, but sometimes the solution is so simple, and yet, so far away 🙁

Ah well, I’m sure you’ve heard of the phrase saving face before. I think it’s basically about communicating with people without wounding their ego. There are some great techniques out there for when people disagree.

It’s basically validating how you can see why they have a perspective. Giving an example about how you or someone you know might have had a similar perspective. And then describe how you or someone you know came to change their perspective.

I’ve heard of saving face, but not in the context of saving face on behalf of another person. But I think I know what you mean: being able to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes, or understand their perspective. But then you also add another element – which serves to expand that perspective and take into account some factors which they might not have taken into account before.

So you kind of understand their perspective, but then you build on it and expand it, and you arrive at a different conclusion or a different standpoint than their original standpoint, right?

So it’s not confrontational but inclusive, sort of… because it doesn’t invalidate the person’s opinion, but it presents new elements that may lead them to change their opinion, right?

It’s not manipulative either, it’s just presenting a fuller, more comprehensive picture, so that the person might decide for themselves. Yeah, that sounds neat 🙂

Looking forward to your post about belonging. ❤️

Hi Jana,

good to hear from you! ❤️

It’s wonderful that you live in a remote place, with plenty of peace and quiet… an ideal environment for finding peace and calm within 😊

I agree – my three siblings and I are completely different, both in character and appearance, and we all have the same parents. We also each have a completely different relationship with both of them.

Yeah, I can imagine. Since no child is the same, I think there is a unique dynamic that develops between the parents and each child. And perhaps if the parents have a lot of unresolved issues, maybe they react more negatively to one child than the other. Although I don’t know, that’s something that’s occurred me just now, so it’s just a thought.

What I do know is that narcissistic parents do treat their children differently, so one becomes a golden child, another a scapegoat. So with narcissistic parents, the parents make an unfair distinction between the children.

With other parents, I guess it doesn’t happen, but still, one child might perceive that e.g. mom’s behavior was hurtful, while their sibling might say that mom was very loving. I guess that’s both because each child has different sensitivities, so what is triggering for one isn’t a problem for another. And also, the parent might be more patient with one child than the other because of their own unresolved issues, due to which they inadvertently treat one child differently than the other.

Anyway, these are just my musings. As a single child, I can hardly be called an expert on this 🙂 So I’d love to hear what you have to say about this inter-family dynamic…

I was afraid that a psychologist or psychiatrist would give me pills and that would be the end of me. Pills don’t solve the causes of trauma. I know that my social phobia was a traumatic reaction to bullying, especially beatings. I had many very painful and humiliating memories of being beaten up in public and no one helping me. 💔 On the contrary, some children even wished it on me or laughed at me. Our school was unfortunately very sick. There were a lot of neglected children. The boys were very aggressive.

I’m very sorry about this, Jana. This is horrible what happened to you. Specially that there was no one to come to your rescue 🙁

So you didn’t really have too much support from teachers, I guess? How about your parents, if I may ask? Did they know about the bullying?

I understand you didn’t want to go to a psychiatrist, because they do tend to prescribe pills. They don’t do much psychotherapy, as far as I know. Psychologist is different, they don’t prescribe medications…

But it’s wonderful that you’ve found what works for you: EFT.

I started EFT therapy (emotional freedom technique by Gary Craig) after I graduated high school. It’s a lot about working with emotions and sensations in the body that memories trigger. Today, these memories don’t bother me anymore, they don’t evoke anything in me, for me it’s a sign that the worst is over…

For a long time I couldn’t get rid of the body trembling – it was my body’s reaction. It kind of went away on its own, only when I really processed the pain in depth around the age of 5, when the bullying started. The healer (EFT coach) helped me with it.

I’m really happy for you that you don’t have body trembling anymore. That’s a huge achievement! And also that those traumatic memories don’t cause any major disruption in your life anymore. It’s a sign that you’ve healed and processed most of it, which is amazing ❤️

but given how it was and how long it took, I can’t just erase some of the scars… As you wrote… conditioning…. maybe now it’s about having compassion and care for these scars

Sure, you don’t want to experience similar pain again, and so you’re sensitive (and want to protect yourself) whenever there’s anything that reminds you of that past dynamic. It’s okay to have compassion for those scars… you deserve to be safe and protected ❤️

Someone recently wrote to me, when we were discussing the inner child, that they go into psychosis when they return to childhood. So it’s very important to have someone to help us with this, certainly at least in the beginning, when our condition is still very serious.

Yes, definitely. Trauma healing is difficult and requires special training. If the therapist is uninformed or not skilled enough, they may retraumatize the person.

And I guess there needs to be a minimal container of Self (we need to be in touch with our compassionate, observer Self) before we can do any self-healing that involves the inner child. We need to have a safe container before going back into those old, painful memories. The therapist is ideally the person who gives us that safe container at first. And little by little, we start developing that container for ourselves…

It seems EFT helped you develop that container, and you’re now able to work with yourself, to calm yourself down, come back to your center quickly, and be very aware of your internal process. Way to go, Jana, keep doing the good work! ❤️

Now, I focus a lot on mindfulness, meditation, and various simple exercises with my inner child. It comforts me and with thorough practice – every day – and allowing myself to be calm, I feel better and more grounded.

Do you want me to share some of these “exercises” with you in the future? It’s nothing difficult or special. Really. I just came up with my own things that work for me.

Yes, absolutely! Please do share some of those exercises. I think working with our inner child can be truly transformative, so yes, please 😊❤️

Hi Jana,

So the right thing to do is not to do anything. Just
go home to yourself and practice mindful breathing in order to be
your best. Because if you have enough tranquility, calm, and
peace, the insight will come as to what is the best thing to say or
do to help the situation.

Very true… ❤️ When we have calmed down, we can see things more clearly. In that calm, tranquil and mindful space, we also have access to our intuition, “the still, small voice”, which can guide us as to what is best to do in a given situation.

Hi Peter,

I wouldn’t describe myself as someone with a rich inner life aimed at spending as much time there as possible. I’m not sure how that impression came about, and when I have time, I’ll revisit what I wrote to see where the gaps might be for that impression to arise.

Well, I think it’s because in your posts, you’ve been putting more focus on the inner experience vs. the outer, and you’ve been expressing it repeatedly, even in your latest post:

Your definition of passivity as the absence of necessary action is valid, especially from an external, outcome-oriented perspective. But I’m pointing toward something more interior.

Also here:

I’m finding it interesting that I find myself leaning in to inner experience and even further, non-duality as I move further into the second half of life.

You tend to lean into the outer, objective experience of conflict – what was said, what needs to be addressed. While I tend to lean into the inner, subjective experience – what was felt, what shifted, what resisted. Both of us I think caught in the loop of – ‘yes but’ the outer experience…. ‘yes but’ inner experience…

So, that’s why 🙂

That’s why Zafar doesn’t suggest staying in every conversation at all costs. He speaks too discernment, the wisdom to know when to step back, and the courage to do so without shame. “Not all silence is surrender,” he says. “Some silence is a candle lit for yourself.”

Yes, sometimes it’s best not to say anything, because our words will be rejected or ridiculed, and it’s simply futile. Sometimes it’s better to stay silent after a provocation or a rude comment – because even though our first, knee-jerk reaction might be to respond “in kind”, we don’t want to engage from that level, and so we refrain from responding. And sometimes, we need to pause and examine why we’re triggered, and so silence is “a candle lit for ourselves” (as Zafar says, “A way to see your own wound before you try to see theirs.“).

Layla stood up for herself, which was brave. But she also felt unsettled afterward. Not because she spoke, but because she lost her center in the heat of the moment. Her journey isn’t about choosing between speaking or withdrawing, it’s about learning to respond from a place of stillness, even when the rhetoric flares. To be accountable for what is hers and release what isn’t, without defense or sense of righteousness. Without losing her center.

Agreed…

Sometimes, as you said, withdrawal is the wisest choice. But even then, it can be done with compassion. To say, “This hurts.” To say, “I don’t know how to stay.” That kind of honesty is not weakness, it’s presence. And presence, even when it’s not returned, is still brave.

I think I know what you mean. When we’ve tried to reach the other person from our center (being loving and compassionate and open to their perspective), and yet, the person is still rude and hostile to us, then we can indeed tell ourselves (not sure if we need to tell it to them though) “This hurts. I don’t know how to stay.” When our love and extended hand is rejected, we can withdraw, and do it with compassion, rather than hatred and resentment.

Than I see we have landed on the same space. … That was nicely said.

Thanks, Peter 🙂 🙏

Dear Milda,

The biggest part of why I do struggle is that I believe that if during this time when I do not communicate with parents something happens to them, to their health, it is my fault. That I an responsible for their health in a sense

Yes, and that’s because you were conditioned to feel responsible for your parents. If I got this right, it seems you were mostly focused on your mother’s feelings and cheering her up, because she often felt sad and overwhelmed, living with an alcoholic husband (your father).

I think this here sums up nicely how you feel about your mother:

I feel the same and I let those thoughts and emotions control me the exact same way that it did when I was a child- keeping mom’s company, cheering her up, comforting her and doing everything I can to fix the situation and how mom is feeling.

Mom’s sadness hits me like the hardest weight.

You took responsibility for your mother’s feelings and were trying to do everything in your power to alleviate her pain. You took the role of her emotional caretaker: you were in charge of meeting her emotional needs, while your emotional needs were not met at all. You’ve talked about this role reversal already with Anita.

So you were a parentified child, serving as a surrogate parent to your mother. Perhaps she did fulfill her parental duties in terms of taking care of your physical needs (did she?), but she definitely failed taking care of your emotional needs.

It seems your mother wasn’t willing or able to take responsibility for her own life, but was basically dumping her sadness, frustration and worry onto you. She had an unhealthy dynamic with your father, but she chose to stay in that dynamic and vent to you, making you responsible for comforting her and making her feel better.

It seems that she also expected you to be in that role – it’s not just that you’re such an empathic person and took over that role willingly, but there was an element of emotional manipulation on her part.

For example, she expected you to speak to your sister after your sister had a big argument with your mother and told her she would never speak to her again. She expected you (and nudged you) to fix the problem with your sister, instead of trying to fix it herself:

During one conflict in our family, my sister got very angry and left the home, said to mom that she will never talk to her again and from that moment my mother was crushed (father is just never talking about this as it never happened), but mother used to say to me, that I have to talk to sister, I have to fix this

I feel a huge guilt inside of me that I am not trying to fix anything, because living without my sister in my life is all good to me, I never miss her, but seeing that my mother is devastated because of that makes me want to comfort her and get back with my sister JUST BECAUSE OF HER, not because I WANT I

In this instance too you served as your mother’s comforter, because she wasn’t willing to take responsibility for her own emotions. She expected you to do whatever needed to make her feel better (in this case, resume contact with your sister), even if you yourself didn’t want it, i.e. even if it went against your own wishes and your own emotional needs.

In other words, your mother’s emotional needs and preferences have overridden yours: her feelings are important, yours are not. And that’s the message she has been sending you all along, ever since your childhood. That’s the conditioning you were brought up with.

Would you say this is true, Milda?

If so, I’d say that perhaps one of the first things you could do is start telling yourself something like: “My feelings matter. I have the right to feel how I feel. I am allowed to honor my feelings. I am allowed to feel what I feel.”

So, allowing yourself to feel the entire spectrum of emotions, which you were not allowed to, because your mother would have been hurt or offended.

I guess the best would be to do it a safe setting, with a trusted therapist, where you can express those emotions, while having a safe container to hold you.

You’re definitely allowed to feel your emotions – you’re not a bad daughter if your emotions don’t align with those of your mother, and if your wishes don’t align with your mother’s. You’re a separate person, and owning and respecting your emotions is a part of that.

How does this sound?

* oops, wrong formatting in that one paragraph. It wasn’t supposed to be all italic.

Hi Peter,

I love the conversation between Layla and Zafar, as well as your portrayal of Hakuin:

Hakuin responds not with outrage but with spaciousness. His peace was not tied to what others said about him. The rhetoric can shift and change, but if your calm or sense of self is not dependent on praise or condemnation, you are free.

I used to read this as unhealthy detachment. Now in the second half of life, I see it as a kind of quiet courage. To remain present without needing to be right. To hold discomfort without turning it into defense.

This is what you were talking about in your latest post to me, right? About not being attached to other people’s opinions of you. And that’s healthy detachment, I agree. It’s not indifference.

And also, to hold discomfort without turning it into defense. That’s the lesson I’ve learned recently: to engage from my center, not from the place of hurt. That facilitates non-violent communication…

I’m not really engaged in political debates at this time, even if I’m not apolitical and have an opinion. But it’s sad how the political discourse has become really polarized. And unfortunately, (some of) political leaders contribute to it and “fan the fires” of strife and dispute.

I’ve been reading about high-conflict personality types, and how such people actually prefer dispute and “violent” (as opposed to non-violent) communication. And this has spread in the society in recent years. With such people, I believe it’s best not to engage, because trying to do so is futile and we may end up getting drained and hurt.

I’ve always thought I had to be ready before I spoke. Clear. Composed. Unshakable. But maybe readiness isn’t the point. Maybe it’s enough to be honest. To say, “This hurts.” To say, “I don’t know how to stay.”

And maybe the candle I hold isn’t for lighting the whole room. Maybe it’s just enough to see my own hands. To remember that I’m still here. Still willing. Still listening.

This is a wonderful approach, Peter. And it works with people who are willing to listen. But if all they want is to attack you, if they don’t want to see anything but their part of the elephant, then I think it’s better to withdraw from the debate. But of course, it depends what forums you participate in, and if there are people open and willing to hear a different perspective.

I sometimes listen to Marianne Williamson, who seems to be an enlightened leader. She is weaving politics with spirituality. Tall order, I believe. She has a following, and perhaps some day the political thought will turn in that direction. But for now, I think of her as holding a candle in a dark room.

In a polarized world, dialogue is not a luxury. It’s a lifeline. And, I think it begins not with cleverness, but with compassion. Not with argument, but with attention. Compassion that makes it safe, even when its not returned, and the choice to stay engaged, to keep the candle lit, makes it brave.

That’s so true. Willingness to see the other, listen to their pain, listen to their needs. But also, respect our own pain and our own needs. Compassion and self-compassion. I think the two together is the winning combination.