Are you relaxed?
by Elouise
It’s 1948. I’m in kindergarten in El Monte, California. I love kindergarten. I love my kindergarten teacher. I adore rest time!
The routine is always the same. Rain or shine. At the appointed time, each of us picks out a brightly painted plank of wood – blue, green, red or yellow.
I carry my red plank to the middle of the room, find a little space between classmates, put the plank on the hardwood floor, and lie down on my back, on my make-believe bed.
I also shut my mouth and close my eyes. Until it’s perfectly silent, my kindergarten teacher won’t begin the fun part.
When we’re all silent as a mouse, she begins the daily rest routine. No peeking!
Without warning I feel her hand raising my wrist up into the air. Suddenly she lets it go. Will my arm fall to the floor, or hover a bit before I put it on the floor? She does this several more times, whispering encouragement as needed.
It doesn’t take long to learn to let either arm just fall to the floor. I’m so proud of myself I’m surprised I didn’t burst!
Relaxation. One of the most challenging practices of my life.
I felt safe in my kindergarten class. Protected. Guided. Appreciated. Not just when my arm dropped to the floor, but from the moment I walked into the classroom.
I don’t think I truly relaxed again until I was in my 40s. The rest of the time I was running for my life. On the inside, if not outside.
~Holding my breath
~Swallowing shame and humiliation
~Trying harder to be gooder
~Looking over my shoulder
~Waiting for the next punishing or impossible task to land on my desk
~Wondering whether I would die in office
~Sometimes wanting to die in my sleep
~Hypervigilant
~Alert
~Exhausted on the inside
~Together on the outside
My first lesson in kindergarten became my first lesson in psychotherapy: Relax. Breathe deeply and let it all go. You’re in safe hands. You’re doing great!
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 December 2016
Photo found via Google at Annie Wright Schools (aw.org)
No, my kindergarten wasn’t nearly this fancy.
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Relax
Thank you.
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You’re welcome, Clay! Hoping this finds you in a relaxed state of mind and body. 🙂
Elouise
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We have to engage in it regularly or else we will become overwhelmed by everything.
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Sean, Thanks for your relaxed comment! I can tell you’ve been relaxing lately. Good for you! 🙂
Elouise
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Yes this weekend was a time to refresh and refocus for me.
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Wonderful!
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I failed kindergarten because I couldn’t sit cross legged like that.
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Too bad your teacher didn’t know how to relax! 💤
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It’s funny – that lesson feels as if it was very powerful, yet it didn’t stay with you. What was it about the later lessons that made them even more powerful, that they overcome what you knew about yourself? 🙂 xxx
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What a great question! Here’s an attempt at a ‘quick’ 🙂 response!
What I knew about myself at age 5 was simple: If I disobeyed my father’s rules, 98% of the time I’d get a ‘spanking’ (his term). Given his own verbal descriptions of me (which never changed over the years), the badness was in me and he had to beat it out of me. So within my family setting I was watched more than my sisters for signs of being bad. And so-called corrective action was quick and firm. I was not relaxed on the outside most of the time; rarely relaxed on the inside when I was awake and he was around or people who would report me to him were around (communal living until I was 7 1/2).
The moment I got to kindergarten I was in a different family for a precious few hours in the morning. A different adult with a different outlook on children was in charge. She understood me. She accepted me. I felt safe. She helped and encouraged me. And I wasn’t her favorite–she was equally kind and patient with each of us. What she didn’t know was what it was like for me back home.
Until I was older–in my 40s–I was terrified to tell people what happened to me at home because I thought it was a negative reflection on me, not just on my family. Somehow, I believed that I deserved whatever I got. Only when I felt safe enough (in a 12-step program) to share my story did I learn how horrible this childhood and teenage treatment of me was. Part of the ‘horrible’ was that everything about our family looked fine on the outside. So I had no allies–my mother and my sisters didn’t dare take my side against our father (publicly revered and loved).
When I began psychotherapy in my later 40s, I met my first ally, my therapist! She not only gave good feedback, but understood how complicated my internal life had become in order to survive childhood. From my perspective today, I’d say my kindergarten teacher taught me to relax my body parts. My psychotherapist taught me to relax everything–especially my internal voices and self-punishment. But that didn’t happen without going through the ‘door’ of relaxing my body–so that my feelings would come to the surface and I could deal with them in a safe environment. Not all at once, but bit by painful bit. What I thought I knew about myself was not the truth about myself. The power of that insight is still being birthed in me, one phase of life at a time. For this, I’m most grateful.
This long answer assumes I know what you’re asking me! 🙂 If it isn’t, let me know and I’ll try again.
Hope you’re having a wonderful day, Fran.
Elouise
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Oh, darling, no wonder you have a difficult time trusting yourself!
It must have felt horrible, being watched by everyone and having to toe some invisible line in ‘acceptable’ behaviour. What did they know?? Not much, by the sounds of it!
What a nerve your birth family had, assuming you were somehow at fault and inculcating that belief in you. How dare they treat you like a puppet and teach you to rely on their opinion of you.
But of course, being young, we accept, don’t we? Which makes that worse, imvho….
Yours, outraged of Edinburgh, Scotland. ((♥))
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Yes…Being young we accept the air we breathe without knowing what we’re accepting. Too often it feels normal, especially when you’re in a subcultural that prides itself on being ‘separated’ from the rest of the world. Which, of course, only makes it more difficult for children and young people who must later function on their own.
Thanks for your comments, Fran! I’m so grateful for your clarity. You would make a formidable ally for any child in such a situation! 🙂
Elouise
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I loved the little rag rug my mom bought me, how I’d lay out on it and close my eyes…oh, and the milk and cookie time….did you have that? Still love that best, and sleep too, and writing, and oh….you know, reading you and seeing myself in your words….<3 with age comes wisdom and an honesty with ourselves that surpasses expectations….Peace and relaxation, K Hey Super L ❤
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A little rag rug?! That’s so sweet. Yay for your mom. In kindergarten the milk/juice and cookies came after rest time–for all those good little girls and boys who were quiet and relaxed! So glad you’re relaxing right now! So is Super L. Just hope she doesn’t expect milk and cookies when she wakes up. 🙂
Elouise
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Awww, can’t she have some? Perhaps almond milk or something healthy? Been snacking on gingerbread cookies this week, mmmmmm…..I was always good….too fearful of being bad….although I did swear once and got my mouth washed out with Lava soap…..still remember it….I think it traumatized me until at least teenhood😊 now I’m an angel😇 tee hee hee, mmm, yeah……💕💜🙏🏻
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So sorry it took me an age and a half to get back to you! Busy day. But got it done, so that tomorrow is stay home and chill out! Right. Angel. Hmmm. Gingerbread angel? My Grandma on my father’s side actually washed out my sister’s mouth once with soap. Not sure what kind it was. Probably Ivory soap back then. Just seeing it happen was enough to cure me! Sister didn’t even swear. She probably ‘talked back’! As for Lucy’s diet, I’ll consult with myself about the gingerbread cookies. Especially since it’s Christmas time. And there are just a few ginger cookies (not quite the same as your fancy ones) in the house right now. Pining away, thinking they’ve been forgotten. Of course I’ll need to taste each of them first, just to make sure they won’t harm L. 🙂
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