Defining Bravery – Superhero Style

I am writing this on location in the heat of Tennessee.  There are two things I’ve concluded on this vacation so far – I love my Garmin and I frequently entertain the idea of selling my son to the gypsies.  I choose gypsies just because that’s what my Mom used to say.  My Mom also used to say “Son of a Biscuit” and “Dagnabbit” which I took to be very serious words at age four.  She probably would have handled my son better than I do at the moment.  After raising six boys, she could handle quite a bit.  Unfortunately, Alzheimer’s took her mind prior to his birth.  Then, it took her life two years ago.  There is no doubt that she would have treasured him.

 My son is three and I often think that he would give Nanny 911 a run for her money.  He is living his life working to get on Santa’s Double-Secret Probation Naughty List (which is much worse than Dean Wormer’s in Animal House).  He screams.  He spits.  He says “Shut up” and “I’m going to put Mom and Dad in jail!”  He hits.  He kicks.  He stomps on the ground of complete insolence.  He argues about clothes all the time, as well as any topic when in the mood.  I just had to carry him out of a bookstore when he grabbed a Spider-man book and refused to let go, then ran around screaming about his ultimate desire for it.  “Stubborn” or “strong-willed” lack the appropriate meaning to capture his essence, while choice profanity comes much closer.  You are never bored in the presence of such dramatic company.

 On the flip side, he often argues about clothes because he has to match Daddy as much as possible, especially in superhero T-shirts.  He will kiss you out of nowhere when the mood strikes him.  He will hunt you down just to share a snack.  He has a smile and laugh that illuminates a room.  He is often hilarious.  One time, we were coloring dinosaur pictures together and when we were transitioning to fresh ones he started to say that he “didn’t know how to color.”  I held up his last picture and gave him my most rehearsed sarcastic tone indicating how he seemingly knew then.  He responded by displaying a little devilish smile and retorting: “Oh, calm down Dad.”  Hilarious.

Balancing life with a child who needs so much energy is tricky.  Things got out of whack when he was a colicky baby – my wife and I allowed ourselves to cocoon far too tightly to the absence of other needs.  Now that he’s older, we are finding some movement from caterpillar to chrysalis, finding some individuality again.  It’s bumpy, but change comes whether you like it or not. 

 These experiences inform my work.  I think one of the overt values I tend to impart as a therapist is about allowing things to happen with some acceptance; like change.  This goes along with my current niche of mindfulness therapy.  Mindfulness practice requires moment to moment attention without judgment.  It also requires bravery to allow things to unfold that you would otherwise want to control.

 This bravery is as important a necessity for those struggling with a trauma, as it is for the parent trying to change the behaviors of their willful child.  Sometimes the brave thing is letting things unfold and being willing to sit with the chaos and discomfort (and often pain.)  When I’ve kept my son in time-out or last-resorted to holding him in the midst of a major tantrum to contain his escalation (I was trained to do this when working with emotionally disturbed children in the past,) I have had to learn to continually monitor and drop my own ego in the service of the situation – be firm without personalizing his behavior (or know when to switch off when I do find myself getting angry.  )I don’t know if I consider myself brave in this endeavor, but I do think that I’ve had to stretch myself and grow in ways that I never would have without him.

 In our many conversations where I try to promote good behavior, I have defined bravery to him as “Doing the right thing (and helping others) even if you don’t want to or when you are mad or scared.”  I have used his love of superheroes to illustrate this, using examples where the Man of Steel or Caped Crusader acts with this kind of bravery, including using restraint.  On the morning that I started writing this, he recalled the definition to me almost word for word unprompted.  Nice to know some things stick. 

I think there are a lot of different kinds of bravery, the most blatant being that of soldiers who make the commitment of their lives in service to our country, or the fireman or police officer sworn to protect us.  Having worked with veterans, I have a profound appreciation for their sacrifices and hope that whatever I write about the subject doesn’t diminish that.  However, I think this definition works in its simplicity and honors what people who devote themselves to the service of others often do.

If I could name one thing I want my son to learn from me is this definition of bravery.  Doing the right thing even if you don’t want to or when you’re mad or scared.  I think when he’s a teen I’ll add on: “or if unpopular or against what your peers think.”  I hope it will stick.

 Funny thing.  We decided today that on our drive home we will be stopping at the Super Museum in Metropolis, Illinois which glorifies all things Superman.  He’s going to love it.  Upon our departure, I will pity the staff and patrons who will be hearing him scream: “I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE!   I WANT TO STAY HERE WITH SUPERMAN!”  All this while he runs around the store with some action figure we said he couldn’t have.  Ah, the good times…be brave…be brave…

 Christopher David

August 21, 2009