Michelle Gale on Doing 'The Work' With Her Kids
Byron Katie's method has become part of how my family handles rough moments. My youngest hasn't really latched onto it, but Tyler, my oldest, took to the practice right away. We keep the four questions and the turnaround posted in the kitchen. So when I'm short-tempered or clearly having a bad time, Tyler will look at me and say, "Mom, I think we need to do the work." Then he walks me through the questions himself. And while he's doing that, he's getting a window into what's actually happening for me on the inside. A lot of parents hold back from showing their kids where they struggle and how they find their way out of it. Letting them see that inner world is probably one of the most valuable things we can hand them.
An example of how it actually plays out: my kids have never slept easily. It's always been a battle. One stretch of nights, Tyler kept waking me up. The first night or two I managed to stay gentle about it. By the second night I'd lost my patience and told him to get back in bed, that he was old enough not to be waking me. The next morning I was still irritable. He noticed and asked what was wrong, and I told him, basically, that the two of them shouldn't be waking me up. That's when he said, "Mom, I think we need to do the work." I agreed. I'd actually slept and felt calmer by then, so I said fine, let's do it.
He started with the first question: is it true that your kids shouldn't wake you up? I said yes, it's true, you shouldn't wake me, it makes me tired. Tyler stopped me. "No, Mom. It's a yes or a no." So I just said yes, it's true, my kids shouldn't wake me up.
Second question: can you absolutely know that it's true your kids shouldn't wake you up? That one made me pause and get quiet with myself. And no, I couldn't absolutely know that was true.
Third question: how do you react, what happens, when you believe the thought that your kids shouldn't wake you up? I sat with it and told him. I pull love back. I get mean. I'm unkind. There's this stress, a sick feeling in my stomach, a tightness around work, a general unhappiness. He said, okay, thanks.
Then the fourth: who would you be, or what would happen, if you couldn't believe that thought? I'd be happier, I told him. More at peace. More loving. More willing to accept whatever was going on right then. And a lot more connected to him.