I saw a vision of my mother as a child, picking berries in backyard shrubs in her Polish countryside home. She wore a white, short-sleeved, baby-doll dress, fitted at the chest and poofed outwards at the waist. Her tiny hands were stained with red currants as her eyes glowed at the sight of the ruby red fruit. She must have been four or five years old.
It’s easy to look at our parents or family members with judgment, thinking they should act differently or change their thought patterns.
What if we chose to look at those closest to us—especially our parents and caregivers – with compassion, understanding that they have an inner child within them? A child that has had life experiences that affected them beyond what our limited perception can comprehend.
Each one of our childhood’s affects our current way of being in the world. From a psychological perspective, childhood is considered a crucial period for human development, and it significantly shapes our future in various ways.
My mom and dad’s families were brought up in communist Poland. Religion was at the forefront of both their households and was a system that people sought solace in, especially during troubling times. Both my parents were raised by their fathers, as my grandmothers had left Poland to work in the United States and provide for the families (at that time, working in the US and sending money overseas was very practical, even if it meant separating a family). My grandfathers were loving, but they were also more traditionally masculine, militaristic and hid emotions – that was the Eastern European way.
Though my parents’ story is unique, every person from our lineage has had their own experiences and upbringing. Not until long ago (and for many, this is still prevalent) individuals were focused on survival and making ends meet. They didn’t have the ability to tap into self-actualization and personal development the way that many of us are fortunate to.
Maslow’s hierarchy of needs describes this well. Current generations can attain more self-actualization because we’ve moved past the foundational human needs. My parents and their parents didn’t have the education and exposure to emotional intelligence that I’ve been able to cultivate. They did the best with what they were exposed to.
Last summer, I found myself getting frustrated with some of the behaviors that my mom was exhibiting. I felt that if she changed certain thought patterns and habits, she would be happier (this was not fair of me, and my own perception, of course). It caused a momentary riff in our relationship, followed by many deep
and very necessary conversations.
Through the process, I learned that to be a supportive daughter, it’s important that I have compassion for the different parts of my mom. I’m not meant to tell her how to act or what she should change. Those things don’t make her feel good (let’s be honest, they don’t make anyone feel good). They tend to do the opposite.
What our parents (and anyone close to us) need is for us to hold space for who they are. To ask questions and get curious. To view their challenges and weaknesses with compassion, versus judgment. It’s not up to us to ignite a desired behavior within them. That’s just judgement, which is the opposite of love.
Focusing on compassion not only affects our relationships; it also makes us more understanding. Compassion in a relationship with our parents requires understanding and empathy. It involves recognizing and acknowledging their struggles, imperfections, and vulnerabilities, and responding with love and kindness, rather than judgment or criticism (I’m not saying that we should easily forgive parents for terrible wrongdoings, but I am saying that love lies in understanding).
Compassion also means accepting their perspectives and imperfections without harboring resentment or unrealistic expectations. We can recognize our parents’ humanity and capacity for mistakes and empathize with their challenges.
I’ve been taking a different approach with my parents recently—though I’m far from perfect. I’ve started to listen more. I focus on understanding their perspectives. I accept where they are today, and I try to understand how their past experiences may have shaped their current behaviors.
There’s a poem by Nikita Gill that I recently read, that aligns with my musings on this subject:
In another universe, I meet my father when he is a child.
We play catch in the woods and as we play he tells me he isn’t allowed to cry
But sometimes the world hurts him and he doesn’t know what to do with all that pain.
So I give him the shoulder he needs to cry on. And he does. He does until the tears are done.
Afterwards, I buy him ice cream and I listen to his laugh, the glowing warm laugh of a child who knows he is safe.
I wish someone could have done that for him. Been a kind, safe place for the child he used to be.
Would it have made a difference? Would it have made a difference?
I invite you to ask yourself, are there things your parents went through as kids that have shaped who they are? Can you look at who they are today, and have compassion for their experiences?