Sometimes There’s A Reason For The Wait

 

I took my 10-year-old daughter to six flags on Sunday. She and I love roller coasters, and her siblings aren’t as wild about them. It was a great day with minimal to no lines, and we arrived soon after the park opened. Our first ride was the Georgia Scorcher. This was an old favorite of mine, but one Maggie was afraid to try. She felt it was a little much for our first ride, but she enjoyed it. She selected each ride for the day based on the layout of the park. Georgia Scorcher, Mind Bender, Batman, Blue Hawk, Scream Machine, Superman…we couldn’t believe how short the lines were!

              We stopped for an afternoon lunch break and my options were pretty limited considering my celiac disease, so I ended up with French fries and ice cream. I had to eat something, but I also knew this probably wasn’t the greatest idea because we hadn’t yet made it to the newer, more challenging rides. There were two on the list I had never ridden before, Goliath and Daredevil, so we hit those up next. The height and speed of Goliath was a lot, but my little coaster junkie decided she wanted to ride it again because – no lines! I expressed some apprehension but ultimately agreed. Then she begged to do the scorcher a few more times. At this point, I told her it was probably time to go for the day. The Georgia Scorcher is a little rough and my head was starting to hurt. I knew there was another sense of instability, but I didn’t quite feel sick…yet.

              Maggie reminds me a lot of myself as a kid in that when she gets something set in her mind, she rigidly adheres to it and does not adjust well to changes in plans. She requested one more Georgia Scorcher ride (4^th for the day) and the Twisted Cyclone. I knew she really wanted to include the cyclone because she wanted to brag to her friends about riding every coaster at Six Flags. This was one of those moments as a mom where you sacrifice your personal wellbeing to satisfy the happiness of your child. We completed the final Scorcher run and walked to the Cyclone. As we walked, I gave her a few more words of warning “Maggie, I don’t know if I can do this. I’m feeling really bad right now.” She responded with some words of encouragement and reassured me there would probably be a line, so we could rest.

One of the worst things at six flags can be the lines, but on this occasion I started to understand why the lines and waiting maybe serve a very important purpose. Constantly flipping around on coasters with no breaks is a good recipe for motion sickness, and I was really starting to feel it. Again, the Twisted Cyclone had no line, so I reluctantly locked into my seat beside Maggie. We made it down the first hill and around a few twists, and I tried hard to hold it in, but I just couldn’t. I lost it all over the ride and on the people around me. Poor Maggie started crying and saying “Mommy, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault for making you do it.” The poor child cried and apologized the entire walk back to the car and halfway home to Rabun. She continued to apologize for the last few days, and I’ve just reminded her and myself that this was one of those teachable moments in life where we were given a lesson that too much of a good thing may not be best. Just like overeating chocolate, we have to realize that moderation is healthy.

              Perhaps there is a larger life lesson here that waiting is an important part of the journey. My life has looked a bit like these roller coasters with thrilling highs (College, grad school, marriage, lots of moving, several jobs, exciting trips, 3 children) and yes, a few dips as well (closing the non-profit, getting divorced, residential treatment), but these days it mainly feels mundane…like waiting. As an enneagram 7, I tend to feel like I’m alive when change is occurring and like I’m sinking otherwise. Maybe it would be helpful for me to just be in this part of the journey where it feels a bit like waiting. Maggie and I had so many nice moments on Sunday and even on the ride down. When she was younger, Maggie was quiet. She would ride in a car for hours and never speak. But Sunday she talked to me about all sorts of things, and it felt good just riding in the car with her…not like the excitement of the Daredevil coaster, but a different kind of settled, sweet goodness. Last night, Matt and I went for a walk with Latham. He held our hands, pulled me along for a short jog, and played along the side of the road…again – that settled, sweet goodness reminding me that this is where I am supposed to be. “Waiting” is defined as “the action of staying where one is or delaying action until a particular time or until something else happens” and it suggests a feeling of urgency for something else to happen. I’m going to reframe how I tend to view this time in my life from “waiting” to “being” using the skill of mindfulness. I’ve practiced focused meditation at retreats and in my life, but I often forget the simple act of being mindful and not viewing the excitement of life as “better.” I want to greater cultivate my ability to just be with Matt, my children, my friends, and my patients.

Even in my work, we as therapists can become so focused on creating change that we miss the value of being with our patients. Many people come to therapy knowing or being told by family/friends how to change, but they are dysregulated internally due to trauma from the past and using addictions or other unhealthy behaviors to self-regulate. There is such value in being present in our own bodies as therapists and thus providing the useful tool of coregulation. Patients are oftentimes wounded by how their parents responded to them as children or how others have responded to them after life traumas. These responses can many times reinforce negative core beliefs such as “I’m unimportant” or “I don’t matter.” These cognitive distortions result in the internal child feeling dysregulated and seeking external attunement. This is the powerful work of therapists to “be” with patients, attune to them, and help them learn to heal those child parts so that unhealthy coping is no longer needed. It may look a lot like “waiting” in the therapy room, but it helps our patients to learn how to “wait” throughout life and “be” in the mundane without relying on external forces for regulation.

We are humans first, so none of us – not even the best therapists – are mindful all the time…this is why it is called the “practice” of mindfulness and involves the art of constantly reminding ourselves to be here now.  On our next trip to six flags (because Maggie is already talking about the next time), when I’m standing in the summer heat starting to feel annoyed, I’ll remind myself that these lines exist for a reason. They are my reminder to be present, to experience moderation, and to have greater appreciation for the ride.

May this “waiting” and “being” period of life do the same – may it be a reminder to be present, to practice moderation, and to have greater appreciation for the journey of existence.