I believe in synchronicity,
the meaningful coincidence of certain concepts coming into my life just when a
message is ready to be received. There have been countless examples of this
over the years, of course especially when I make myself open to it. Recently I
have experienced this phenomenon as relates to some parenting guidance I felt
compelled to give.
My oldest daughter, a young
adult who has been living on her own since her early college days, suffers from
anxiety and depression. It is incredibly painful as her mother to know of her
struggles and try in whatever limited way I can to help. I have made sure that
she has access to medication and therapy appointments, and there are countless
phone conversations between us. We fight her uncomfortable feelings together,
she’s okay for a while, and then they come back. Recently she said to me, after
making a concerted effort to move past certain seemingly paranoid fears only to
have to confront them directly, that she feels like the universe does not want
her to be sane. I wanted to contradict that statement immediately. But then
some ideas which have been simmering in me over the past couple of months
bubbled up at once and gave me a clear piece of unlikely advice for her.
I picked up a book not long
ago, ostensibly on a whim, called Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. In it, she
talks about the creative process and how there will always be an element of
fear involved. Her advice is to invite the fear in, give it some room, and move
on without letting it take control. That spoke to me, as did two of my favorite
movies which often come to mind, The Sixth Sense and A Beautiful Mind. In the
former, a haunted child is only able to achieve some peace when he allows the
disturbing ghosts to have their voice and he listens to what they have to say.
And in the latter, the genius John Nash is finally capable of living
productively when he acknowledges the imaginary characters and voices in his
life but continues along without allowing them any power. And in one of the most
touching sermons I have ever heard in church, the pastor described her
experience with a stubborn loneliness. When she finally “sat with it” and saw
it as a cherished companion rather than an enemy to be feared, she experienced
a life-changing shift in perspective.
Suddenly, with all of these messages in focus, I felt
I had a unique suggestion for my daughter. She feels a high level of anxiety,
which sometimes leads to depression. It is part of who she is. She is one of
the most sensitive, perceptive, detail-oriented people I know. With these
strengths, the other side of that same coin is the anxiety they can produce. So
to my girl I say: Give that anxiety some space and some respect. Name it. Write
about it. Talk about it if you want to. And then move forward anyway. Because
my daughter is also one of the bravest people I know.
