Thought for the Day - June 23,00

Subject: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: GUEST,Peter T.
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 09:39 AM

sorry about the misdated thread:

We have been talking about, and experiencing, presences and absences this last week or so. D.W. Winnicott, the child psychoanalyst, had a lot to say about what he called "basic trust", which he saw as in part founded on the ability of a child to cope with the absence of its mother. He noticed that there was a period in a child's life where the presence of the mother in the room was essential -- the loss of being able to see the mother at all times was frightening -- and then there was a transition, where the healthy child learned that the momentary absence of the mother wasn't permanent -- it was almost as if the child had widened out, or internalized the presence of the mother, even in her absence. The mother became a kind of "generic holder" of basic trust, i.e. the child would not be dropped completely whatever happened. Children in trouble (or mothers in over-anxiety) were not able to handle this shift, and never really gained a sense of basic trust in the world.

That is a theory. But I notice in myself that there are these gradations and experiences of presence in absence. I can often assume without thinking about it that my friends are still there, that my parents are around, that they don't have to be physically present to be present. But sometimes, on bad days, I lose my basic trust in the possible presence of anyone else -- I think the world is a collection of disconnected beings. When I have been in love, the person's presence is ever-present, even though their absence is agonizing (the agony is an ironic measure of their presence). I once talked to a woman who said that the best thing about being a Christian was that she always had Jesus in her presence, which made her less anxious, and more able to cope with the absences of the people in her life -- I became less grasping, less desperate, less afraid that if they left the room I would never see them again, was what she said to me.

I once conducted a discussion with students of mine about how they felt out in the woods. Some felt completely alone, some felt the presence of the forest as a being surrounding them, some were so caught up in thinking about something else that they never noticed the woods at all. It was a surprise to me: I had always assumed that people out in the woods felt a sense of presence, of something in the surroundings -- but then I saw that I was just projecting my senses of presence and absence onto others.

I have since noticed this more widely: as I have said, some people are accompanied by presences, and can live with physical absences; some cannot. Some days I am the first kind of person; some days not.

I have not really applied this to the odd presence/absence of Mudcatters; but it is there, certainly. I am lucky enough to know some of them in the flesh; and even luckier to be a witness to the cornucopia of arrivals on our doorstep. And of course, the paradoxes of the presence/absence of these travellers only multiplies the strange delight in the experience.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: SINSULL
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 11:04 AM

Peter, My son came to me as a foster child at the age of eight and was adopted at nine. It took longer to adopt than to give birth but that's another story. He had spent the first eight years of his life in one foster home after another. His birth mother was incapable of caring for him and loved him too much to release him for adoption. The result was years of neglect and abuse but worst of all instability.

He has no sense of "place" in the world. He trusts no one. And he always fears losing the people who care for him. As a strange form of self preservation he often deliberately sabotages relationships so that the stress of worrying about the end or the fear of rejection ends. I am afraid he feels exactly the same in the middle of a forest as in a room full of family.

Me? I am my own best company. In the woods, on the subway, walking down a deserted street, I simply am.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: catspaw49
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 12:17 PM

First to you Sinsull...........We are adoptive parents and fostered for nine years with over 25 kids......I know of what you speak intimately. I have done training on "Attachment Disorder" which is finally being recognized and very much the situation you describe. My best to you and your son. Its a long, hard road that has no end. That's a cruel thing to say, but I say it with the absolute best wishes and love that I can for your family. You may not want to hear it (I never do), but it takes a special person(s) to do what you have done and feel free to talk through it anytime with me or us....You most certainly are among friends.

Peter.....Its also a good thought for me today as I am saddened about not being in Toronto this weekend. But I will be there, even if I'm not. BTW, the Heron showed up here last night and is going south with us this week. He sends his love.

Spaw

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: SINSULL
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 01:48 PM

Spaw - Honest is never cruel. I am very proud of my son and his accomplishments. I never stop telling him so. And yes, I do hate the "special person" bullshit. I wanted a child but couldn't abide the thought of dealing with a husband and so I adopted my son. Totally selfish and in my opinion the only reason to have a child - because you want one.

Peter - taking positive action re: the "separation blues" and tracked down a contact with song circles in NYC. Real live people for a change.

Enjoy the weekend. SS

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: GUEST,Mrr
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 02:13 PM

Oh yes honest can be cruel. The trick is to temper honesty with kindness. Think of the song: Honesty, oh it's such a waste of energy, no you don't have to lie to me, Just give me some tenderness beneath your honesty.

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day - June 23,00
From: Peter T.
Date: 23 Jun 00 - 02:34 PM

Thanks for the replies. I am always humbled by the knowledge of what some of the people here do. I know the Heron is in good hands, CP. I will lift a glass for you (but bring that bird back!!!!!)

yours, Peter T.