Meet Me There
An exploration of three key postures we take with our kids, and how each one shapes their understanding of themselves
““There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.”
I have a son, a smart, thoughtful, hard-working young man with a great sense of humor. And though, as a father, some part of me still sees him the way he was, a wide-eyed little boy with a big heart, taking in every detail of life with great consideration, I know he is not a child...and I celebrate this. I feel a great sense of joy and of pride in who and what he has become. Like many of you, though, my vision of him doesn't stop there, with the remnants of the past and the images of the present. I think often of his future, of everything he will explore, build, and accomplish. Everyone he will love, lead, and encourage.
Our view of, and our posture toward children, not merely our own, but all those we meet along the way, shapes how we interact with them, informs how we pour into their lives. Perhaps more important than this, is how they interpret our behavior. Something that often remains subconscious but no less significant because of this reality, is how they view themselves through our eyes. The way they learn of their own worth through us, is an ever-shifting process of discovery.
The Foundation
Children receive their first glimpse of identity, recognition, value, and confidence from us, by how we position them within our lives, by where we place them in our world. The way we speak and act in their presence sinks in. Whether we are father or mother, an aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent or simply one of their many friends or passing acquaintances, each of us has a choice to make. Will we acknowledge them as equal members of our tribe, indeed younger, less experienced, and in need of wisdom and guidance, but equal members nonetheless? Or, will we treat them as so many people do, as an afterthought, cute and funny second-class members of a group that will one day value them if they please us enough?
Our kids are so open to us and to the world. They are always ready to gobble up not only our attention, but every ounce of knowledge and love we offer to them. And the capacity they carry to one day love goodness, value compassion, diligence and honor, and pursue character and meaning, depends on how much we help them stretch out and expand that reservoir in the limited span of time we have them at home.
Over the years, I've thought a great deal about the different ways I engaged with my son, and watched how other adults interacted with him, whether they were a friend's parents, a coach or teacher, a distant relative, or a random stranger. These interactions often brand themselves onto our child's psyche. We influence not only their behavior but their entire worldview.
A New Posture Means a Change in Perspective
One thing I noticed during these times is our frequent habit for holding a certain position when we speak to them. Specifically, we remain standing at a distance and looking down at them, while they are forced to look up at us. There is, of course, nothing wrong with this. It is the most frequent and inevitable positioning we share with children, simply by the relation of their height to ours. This impacts our children both positively and negatively. Too often, negatively. How often do you think about how your relative stance affects how they see not only you, but themselves?
Children are, both by nature of their size and their naivete, forever looking upward and outward, trying in every way to understand more, to make better sense of their existence moment by moment. Of course, we’re doing the same thing. But our vantage point is a great deal more informed and equipped. Children, especially early on, grasp the nature of their value within the framework of life, by how we place them in our world, by how we position them in our eyes, our heart, and our actions.
If we’re always standing over them and looking down, they will surely not forget our authority, which is a good and necessary reality. But they will rarely and tragically not experience a greater revelation of our love, humility, and understanding, the likes of which reveal themselves when we choose to kneel down to their level. They will not sample the joy we take in them, the way we celebrate their very existence as something worthy of our best time and serious consideration when we lift them up to our eye level. Finally, they will not experience a certain brand of confidence, freedom, and empowerment that only awakens when we lift them high above us.
Each one of these three postures holds a key to our child's most profound and layered sense of self. Each one, when acted upon genuinely, accesses a different part of their psychological and emotional core, feeds a different area of their being. It is a place that will only flourish with the water and light of that particular experience. Each unique posture should be used repeatedly throughout their childhood, and sometimes, all of them within the same interaction. Let's take a look at each one.
Come Find Me
Our kids inhabit the world beneath. They are closer to the earth. But while they are nearer to the source, they understand it less. This makes for a wonderful and terrible cocktail of mystery, awe, beauty, and peril. They play at our feet and tumble through their days with the world and the people above always commanding a sort of exalted realm, a place they can see and sometimes touch, but never fully feel a part of.
We often ask them to rise to our level, not so much so they will understand its significance, but merely to alter their behavior. We want them to straighten up, act more maturely, sit up, quiet down, and quit "being a kid." We want them to behave like adults, often without showing them an increase in consideration or respect. They must come to us. But how often are we going to them? How often do we step back from our usual place to put ourselves in their kingdom or to invite them into ours? It's vital that we get down to their level regularly, and show them that their world is no less important, that their view of life is no less valid. They need to understand that we desire to see reality from their point of view. They long to hear and see that the places they inhabit and the choices they make mean a great deal to us.
Years ago, I dated a wonderful woman who talked and played with her son daily much like this. I'd always enjoyed getting down on the ground and building something with my son, wrestling about, drawing together, or doing just about anything. But it's different when you watch it within the words and actions of others. It helps you understand its significance in a new way. No matter how tired she was from a long day at work, or how burned out she'd gotten from a tense conversation or argument with someone, she always took the time to set that struggle aside, sit down or often lay down on the floor next to her boy, and spend a while playing and talking with him at his level. She didn't try to change what or how he was playing, didn't attempt to reshape it to make it more enjoyable for her. She put herself into his kingdom, and had so much fun doing so.
“Though it is our job to lead our children, to inspire and teach them how to mature and rise to higher levels, we can’t forget that every stage of their life holds significance. ”
The joy that filled his eyes and lifted his smile was quite something to witness. He knew his mother cherished him. He knew that his place in life was valuable to her, no less so than her own position in the world. And though they had their share of disagreements and struggles as all children and parents do, even when everyone else was on his case or ignoring him, he knew beyond doubt, that he was the apple of his mother's eye.
Though it is our job to lead our children, to inspire and teach them how to mature and rise to higher levels, we can't forget that every stage of their life holds significance. Every moment is worthy of focus. As Sir Ken Robinson once said during his memorable Ted Talk, "A three year-old is not half a six-year old." When we kneel down to embrace them, look them in their eyes and exist for a time at their level, to lie down next to the earth and play, or simply to sit on the floor to talk, they see once more that their unique perspective holds weight with at least a few adults that command so much of their existence. They begin to grasp that their place, while physically lower, is neither spiritually nor relationally so.
Lastly, this posture is often the best one to take when you need to have a quiet but serious or difficult conversation, any time when you really need them to relax and listen carefully. Putting ourselves at their level is naturally disarming, and it trades in a sense of dominance and command, for an atmosphere of safety, teaching, and intimacy.
Join Me Up Here
In contrast to our choice to come down to their level, lifting a child up to ours says something quite different. Instead of "I value your world," it says " You're so important to me that I want you to experience more of mine." It says "I believe you can handle it up here for a while." Physically lifting a child up to look us in the face, or standing them on something high enough to do so, affords them a sense of confidence, of power, a kind of solidity that hints at being capable, of being ready to understand new ideas or choices, even if this understanding is only subconscious.
This lifting to our level speaks to them of an equality of worth. Where moving down is ideal for thoughtful, serious, or emotionally driven conversations, bringing them to us is perfect for moments where directness and clarity take priority.
Positioning them at this heightened place allows us to instill the confidence they need to take on new challenges while discussing things that may be uncomfortable, yet important for their maturity and sense of personal responsibility. Also, in its more direct nature, it is often used to make a difficult or necessary combative point.
Notice how this is frequently the posture of choice when a parent needs to command full attention from their distracted or rebellious child. When nothing else seems to be working, we sometimes lift them up, look them in the eye, and speak with clarity and a bit of force so that it sinks in more potently. Ultimately, it is a posture that seeks to clarify, to give them a greater understanding of identity, and to encourage their capability. It gets attention, cuts through distractions, and when handled correctly, it can tattoo upon their psyche, positive ideas with ease. Remember, though, because of its directness, when you fumble or abuse this posture, you can damage them emotionally. Use it to embrace, to build confidence, and to reassure.
“This [lift and release] is the beginning of them letting go of the absolute protection of their mother and father. And it is the beginning of us letting them go so they can press outward and take their place in the wider world beyond.”
You Gotta Fly Sometime
The final posture is that of lifting or setting them above our level. This position is all about freedom, liberation, joy, and possibility. When we swoop them up in our arms and lift them high above us so they see not merely from our perspective, but one even higher, we say to them that anything is possible, that they are free to dream and explore, and that we are the living foundation that will help make this possible.
Even though we hold onto them, or remain nearby, this slightly less safe action begins to show them that life itself is not always entirely safe, that it involves a number of leaps and risks, but that many of these are work taking, especially when our children have a few people around who love them unconditionally and want the best for their life.
We sometimes take this further by tossing them into the air so they can fly for a moment, only to catch them a few seconds later, laughing so hard they think they'll explode. This speaks of an even greater freedom, a statement to the sheer joy of cutting loose from the bonds so they can soar and free fall. This is a key psychological step in the formation of healthy risk-taking, in bravery, and in the willingness to build and create. It inspires them to move into unknown areas of life, and finally, to lead well.
Still, in free-falling, we need a parachute. At home, this is our parents' strong, capable arms, and hopefully, their quality guidance. In adulthood, out in the world, that parachute is our own wisdom, experience, courage, and common sense. We must at times release our children to search out areas that are not gated, landscapes in which they can still see us but not immediately touch us. This is the beginning of them letting go of the absolute protection of their mother and father. And it is the beginning of us letting them go so they can press outward and take their place in the wider world beyond.
It’s In Our Hands
There are so many ways we communicate to our children even without speaking a word. They pick up on these far more than we often consider. Don't force it. Just try to remain aware of the way you position yourself with your child. Don't keep yourself at a distance all the time. Dive into their world. See things through their eyes. Then, bring them up to yours and introduce them to the freedom above.
Think about what you want to say and how you need to say it, and pair this with a posture that matches your emotion and intent. Avoid putting them on the defensive so often. Work to disarm them whenever you can. Children are much more receptive when they know they can find complete trust and safety in us, and when we show them that they are worthy of being taken seriously.
Love has many languages, and words are only one of these. Let your actions and the physical position you take with your kids inspire them toward the development of character, and invite them to remain open to a deeper level of connection.