One More Perspective

In 2004, my Divorce Attorney gave me the name of a Therapist with whom she and her (by then former) Husband had done couples’ therapy.  Despite their marriage ending, my Attorney believed this Therapist was invaluable in her own journey.  I didn’t actually want a divorce, not any of them, I just didn’t know what else to do to raise a sufficient alarm for my Spouses that something was terribly unsustainable between us.  This couple’s therapy was as powerful and compelling as my Attorney had described, but served for me, like for her, as merely a delay of an inevitable divorce (not much else to do when you’re rowing alone).  Most importantly however, I was introduced to the Imago Relationship Therapy concept, in which we are invited to understand that most marriages are made up of a combination of energy Minimizers and/or energy Maximizers.  Imago refers to them as the Turtle and the Octopus respectively, and identifies who is who by how each person tends to react when, inevitably, conflict enters their marriage.  One Spouse will favor quick resolution via an energetic discussion (picture the flailing tentacles on an Octopus, maximizing its presence in search of “Are we OK?  Do you still love me despite the conflict?”), while another Spouse may withdraw, feeling overwhelmed by both the conflict and what it will take to get past it.  In Imago Relationship Therapy terms, the person who seeks to minimize the conflict is the Turtle with a sturdy go-to shell, the refuge, where they can block out the Octopus.  In previous writings I detailed their potentially growth-inspiring, but most often destructive impact on each other.  Thus far, I have focused on the adult couple dynamic, which takes mutual commitment to daily practice of the therapeutic concepts if the couple is to leverage their natural Imago orientation (whether their conflict style tends to lean toward Octopus or Turtle), for learning and connection.  Think of it as Physical Therapy (PT); doing the exercises only at the PT office or inconsistently, will not result in much.  Unfortunately however, in most marriages, both people are rarely willing to each do this self-work.  This is where I’ve been getting stuck. 

In the last two months however, I’ve come to realize that applying these concepts to the nurturing of my Children would have been far more important than trying to make my marriages work.  Unfortunately, to my knowledge, Imago hasn’t been presented as applicable to the Parent-Child relationship, and I only put two-and-two together now that I’ve already done the damage.  The adult dynamic provided the concepts and vocabulary I was missing for the parenting dynamic.  I’ve now come to understand Imago concepts absolutely apply to the Parent-Child relationship, and to the inter-Sibling relationships as well.  What I wouldn’t give to get to go back in time and show up in my life then with the clear view of these conflict-processing dynamics I have today.  Why must life give us the test first and the lesson after…or is it just me making excuses?

If we accept that people generally approach stressors by either going inward (Turtle) or outward (Octopus) to process them, it’s easy to see how Imago concepts are helpful when applied more broadly.  Carrying the Octopus/Turtle lens beyond the marital construct makes sense to me, because our natural approach to conflict comes with us to each of our interactions as we move about our world.  Though my baseline is that of a Maximizer (my lens defaults to an Octopus), I’m such a believer in the helpfulness of this Imago framework, I have now spent significant time studying the Minimizer…I’ve had ample opportunity to do so.  Life has provided me with compelling Turtles throughout my existence; I have also come to understand each is my Teacher. 

My Children have always represented my biggest growth opportunities, but I have just begun to face how woefully inadequate my learning was, as all three, in their own way, have chosen to distance themselves from me.  That painful vacuum in my life they rightfully created as young adults, has also been my best opportunity for self-reflection, and to accelerate the lessons from my latest Teacher. 

Let’s start with a brutal description of me, as I have come to realize my Children experienced me, an unhealed Octopus:  jarringly loud, emotionally unavailable, distracted, demanding, harsh, dismissive.  Oh, it’s devastating and heartbreaking to write this, because it takes my breath away to understand that was their reality of me much of the time, rendering all else I said and did null and void. 

…but this is precisely what’s critically important here, that drone-view of me and my impact.  Since I cannot change the past, the best I can do now is to understand how others experience me, to relate to myself and to others differently, and to help create tools and conversations that may help someone realize their own dynamics, and to ultimately interact differently within those dynamics.  It’s the best I can do now…now that I’ve fucked up what were the most important to me all along:  my relationship with my Children and their relationship with one-another.  I would always say this, but day-by-day, I created the opposite environment for them.  My delta in my own intent and execution is precisely why I am now much more aware of this particular human blindside, and must understand it better.  It’s driving me to rebaseline what I think I know about myself, and my psyche-footprint in the world.  Not only do I have a bias toward giving myself credit for the actual delivery of what I promise, I also give unearned trust to those who claim to love me and mine [Children].  …but intent does not make for action, nor follow-through.

Deep breath.

Imagine a Child who is expressive, imaginative, has a sophisticated vocabulary, immense energy and curiosity.  She has two Brothers; one equally as expressive, the other, an observer, a quiet processor.  They share two rooms in various configurations, lots of DNA, and one overwhelmed, flailing Mother who knows she must keep this ship upright and moving.  Oh, it’s not that there isn’t a second adult around, it’s just that this second adult isn’t running on enough bandwidth to keep themselves afloat, let-alone to contribute to the emotional needs of the household.  The second adult, instead of growing to meet the needs and challenges of a Family and to show up as a fully-formed Partner, actually siphons energy from the Octopus Mother for their own survival of Family demands.  It doesn’t matter which subsequent Spouse I substitute in here, they were all ultimately unhealed Turtles who didn’t realize their own stress-responses.  They were each unhealthy Minimizers who were initially attracted to the abundant energy in the Octopus, happy to hand over to the Octopus their shit to tend to too, as if they were one of her Children.  This matters.  This sets the dysfunction into a blinding complexity that ultimately yields unsupported, insecurely-attached Children of all ages sharing a household; two of them masquerading as adults.  The Turtle Spouse’s behavior, though unseen to the Children, is part of the ecosystem the Children are trying to survive, as that lack of bandwidth forces the Octopus Mother into overdrive and over-functioning, which is what the Children ultimately experience.

The Octopus Mother in my writing is moving about the universe at break-neck speed, driven by her own early-formed survival instincts.  The hallmark of the Maximizer brand in case of choppy seas is to predict and act to prevent trouble, try harder, do more, raise volume, run interference, fuel vigilance.  The Octopus Mother is therefore operating from a constant risk-assessment algorithm, including when managing the three most precious humans in her care.  She’s eyes-up, baselining the present for how well it may serve the future.  Are her Children learning the skills, thought-processes and information-seeking necessary to thrive on their own?  At her feet is an entirely different reality, but she’s not looking really looking there.  Her sensors are set up to evaluate the barriers to accomplishing future requirements.  Her eight flailing tentacles are shrouding her eyes and view to what’s actually happening in real time…in the very days of what forms into the childhood of her three Children and their memory of her. 

Her Children sense she’s unavailable and each react differently to this.  Based on their own inherent orientation when stressed, two use their own Octopus tentacles and one his Turtle shell, to process their lives.  Over time, they achieve various degrees of success in getting their Mother’s attention, each in their own way, but not often resulting in the nurturing they deserve.  Sure, they are fed, sheltered, educated, entertained, but they aren’t emotionally secure and supported.  This Octopus Mother doesn’t yet realize she is operating from an anxious Octopus baseline with her inherently Octopus and Turtle Children, and she isn’t hiding her stress as well as she thinks she is.  In fact, most days, it’s all they really experience of her as she flows in and out of her Mom and professional roles.  She prioritizes the thing she sees as the ultimate safetynet for what and whom she loves and values the most.  She makes all kinds of mistakes, especially with her Children who desperately need her to say and do no more, but instead to simply stop.  Stop the survival-driven tentacle-flailing, stop the talking.  Look!  Listen!  See that today, there is loneliness and misunderstanding at home.  Stop making the preparations for the future always more important than the lived experience, the quality of our today. 

…but no.  I could not.  Instead, I was a massive entity.  I spent so much time in the future (who needs what tomorrow, next week, or….as a thirty-five year-old!), my mind was rarely where my body appeared to be.  I thought I was so good at this, too.  I believed my Children could see my love for them and that my love and dedication would ultimately save the day.  All our days.  Ugh. 

Instead, I created a subconscious competition for air, for my attention and love between my Children.  They then each processed their own stress of not being seen, not being understood, from their natural orientation as Minimizer (Turtle) or Maximizer (Octopus).  My Octopus Children turned their flailing tentacles on each other, and I drove my Turtle Son further into his shell.  He was grossly outnumbered by us out-loud people and I didn’t possess the self-awareness to protect and support him, and to help the three of them understand their own Octopus/Turtle dynamic.  My Octopus Children didn’t know how to interpret each other’s voluminous reactions, so they internalized it.  They came to believe the other was obnoxious and unbearable.  Their Turtle Sibling withdrew to give himself solice and to not have to pick sides.  I didn’t help.  I wasn’t working from any of this realization.  I was stuck in containment mode of the daily needs and keeping us marching toward a future date.  Tomorrow will be better.  …and I wasted a lot of tomorrows while my Children duked it out amongst themselves.  Often, I’d step in long enough to tell my oldest his behavior was unhelpful, but I didn’t troubleshoot, didn’t ask heart questions, and didn’t see how I was driving these sibling dynamics with my own lack of emotional capacity and connection.

The consequences are unforgivable.  The only reason I am still breathing is because I believe not breathing may just be the one thing I could do worse than what I did (and didn’t do) as their Mother. 

I have always loved Groundhog Day and other do-over movies because they are merciful and mercy is rare in our lives.  I would need at least the time Bill Murray’s character spent on his get-your-head-out-of-your-ass journey and then some, but my favorite part is how his learning was entirely invisible to the other people.  No further harm done during his treacherous transformation.  If I could as my March 2026 self, I would go back as far as I could.  I would run in my head not the future-facing, risk-based, fear-driven algorithm, but the camera-feed from an overhead drone reminding me I’m an Octopus who has the right to exist, but with tentacles I need to thoughtfully meter, honoring the tentacles or shells of others, especially that of my three Children.  I need not fill spaces and time just because I can and the silence of Turtles compel me to.  I can observe another Octopus flailing and understand they are energetically seeking connection, needing understanding and to be acknowledged, but not necessarily needing me to solve anything, unless explicitly requested (or in case of a safety issue, of course).

So that’s it.  That’s my soul’s message for today.  How do I know?  I had a merciful dream…that’s what spurred this writing.  In my long and vivid dream, I was in a room with my Octopus Daughter.  She was maybe seven or eight.  She was being her expressive, creative, energetic self and I sat with her.  On the floor.  Expecting nothing of the moment, not teaching her, not trying to affect her in any way but keeping space for her, observing her, fully with her.  Holding my attention right there, I could see her as the completely separate entity she is and whose Mother I get to be.  She’s amazing.  She’s talking, nonstop.  I’m available.  I’m quiet, except for acknowledging her rainbow of emotions.  I’m not correcting, not instructing, I’m not solutioning, and I’m keeping my thoughts about the future at bay.  Dream-me is exactly as I wasn’t when my Daughter was that age.  Though it was just a dream, it still gave me a reprieve.  It gave me a bit of rest. …and clarity.  Even nurturing.

I understand much better now how I arrived to my reality in this present moment.  For now, I’m a bit like that drunk driver who accidentally killed someone.  I get to be sober now, and understand exactly the irreparable harm I’ve done.  I wake up with my thoughts of my impact on my Children first and foremost, as well as on formerly loved-ones.  I think about it all the time.  …and all I can do is accept it all and somehow breathe with it.