Michelle Gale on the Fear of Losing Connection with Our Kids
Erik opened by thanking Michelle for the practical ground she'd covered: the breathing work, the attention to what's happening in the body (and through that, in the emotions), and the idea of letting children take part in our own growth, helping us stay aware of who we are in any given moment. Michelle agreed, with a caveat. None of it is a one-time fix. It shows up daily, moment to moment. A practice you carry for life.
When Erik asked what parents fear most, Michelle didn't hesitate. The deepest fear, she said, is losing connection with their children. It's near the top of her own list, and it surfaces constantly in the work she does with other parents. Most of what they'd discussed up to that point, she pointed out, exists to protect that connection.
So she keeps circling back to the quality of it. Her earlier advice holds here: when kids walk in from school, resist the urge to pile on questions right away. Don't bombard them. There's a better window later, and that nighttime connection carries real weight. Before she reaches toward one of her children, she tries to catch herself with a question. Who is this connection actually for? Is it serving me, or serving them?
Take the simple "How'd you do on your test today?" Does she genuinely want the answer, or is she just discharging her own anxiety about the test through the question? That distinction matters. If a parent is frightened of losing closeness with a child, the thing to examine is the texture of the closeness they already offer. Whose need is it meeting. What agenda is riding along underneath.
She gave a specific example. Her son has been navigating some trouble with a friend at school, so she might ask, "How did things go with Johnny today?" Again she has to check herself. Is the question for him, or is it her worry about the friendship looking for an outlet? Maybe the whole thing was a non-issue for him by the afternoon. Can she let that be true? Can she leave room for him to bring it up himself, in his own time, into whatever space they're sharing?
A lot of it, she said, comes down to honoring the child and being honest about what's driving us. Is the reaching-out tied to some quiet agenda we're carrying, or does it come from wanting, plainly, to be with them? Kids read the difference instantly. They can smell it from a mile away when the connection isn't the real thing.