The responses we get from both kids and parents are just phenomenal. Usually kids have massive positive shifts and the parents are just thrilled with the results.
Mark was attending the programme for the first time and usually we suggest that kids get their first few Journeys with someone other than their parents, as it gives the child the same privacy and anonymity that we, as adults, often feel we need. So Mark was to undergo his first Kids’ Journey with one of the Accredited Therapists at the programme.
As expected, Mark threw himself into the day (most kids do, it’s so much fun!) and fell in easily with the other kids. When it came time for his process, Sally, the head therapist, decided that she would work with him in his private session.
During his Journey, Mark went back to a memory of when he was seven years old. We had taken him to Legoland and had encouraged him to go on the little ‘Dragon’ roller-coaster. All of Legoland is pretty much aimed at younger kids, so when Mark seemed reluctant to go on the ‘Dragon’ with us, Kevin softly encouraged him, reassuring him that it would be fun. Mark begrudgingly acquiesced and we all three got on the ride together. Mark seemed to be enjoying himself until we got to the last hill of the ride. We could feel the roller-coaster slowly cranking up the hill and as I looked up at the steepness, even I thought, ‘Hmm, this is a bit high for little kids,’ but as there was nothing we could do, we just laughed and held Mark closer to us. As we went roaring down the other side of the hill, Mark turned white and looked as though he was either going to laugh or cry – we couldn’t tell which. Kevin, cognisant of Mark’s nervousness, tried to encourage him, and as we got off the ride softly reassured him, affirming how brave Mark was and how much fun the ride had been.
What neither of us had realized at the time was that Mark had been terrified, and he was secretly furious that we hadn’t listened to him in the first place.
During his Kids’ Journey, at his ‘campfire’, he finally got to let loose at us, and he released all of the stored-up anger and forgave us for not listening. When he had finished, he spoke to Sally, who then came to us on his behalf to say that Mark really wanted to make his own decisions about roller-coasters and felt that we needed to listen to him more.
Whoa, were we surprised … but also grateful. We had no idea it had affected him so strongly. It seemed like such a harmless thing – a three-minute ride on a kiddie roller-coaster. And yet it was pointing to something much larger: that we really needed to listen more deeply to Mark, to hear his needs and respond to them more respectfully.
Later, when Kevin spoke with Mark privately, he let him know how sorry we were and that neither of us had realized how scared he had been – that his lack of communication prior to the ride had left us in the dark as to what his true feelings were. Kevin asked Mark to promise him that if ever he felt afraid he would let us know. Mark admitted that he was shy and a little scared of telling us, but he promised in future to listen more carefully to himself and his body, and if he felt any fear at all he’d let us know. Kevin promised in return that we would never make him do anything he was too scared to do. He reassured him that we would never take him anywhere where there was real danger, that we love him too much and that if he was frightened we wouldn’t force him into anything he genuinely didn’t want to do. Kevin also agreed he would endeavour to listen more closely, more deeply, and got Mark to agree that communication is a two-way street – though a great deal can be conjectured and surmised, you can’t assume you can mind read just from someone’s body language, you need to verbalize your feelings.
Since that time, it has been ongoing learning. To strengthen Mark, we still like to encourage him to meet his fears and stretch to take action, even when fear is coming up. But he’s never since been made to do something that he really hasn’t chosen to do himself.
Now, whenever we go to Universal Studios or Disney, Mark chooses which rides he wants to take. Last summer at Universal Studios we went on the dread ‘Jurassic Park’ ride, the scariest of all the water-splash roller-coaster rides, and Mark asked to ride it three times! It was his favourite ride in the whole theme park. But more important, we as parents are learning to partner Mark on his journey, rather than foisting our ideas of what’s best for him onto him without his input. We are all learning how to listen and how to express ourselves clearly.
Part of what you will be doing as you work with your child is learning just this: how to partner your child in opening into their own experience, and how to support them in discovering their own truth and their own answers – a lesson that would be good for all of us to learn in all our relationships!
Recently I shared Mark’s story with one of our senior Accredited Therapists, Gaby, who had served as a trainer two years ago at a Junior Journey programme. She remarked that it reminded her of a process she’d had with a child who had seemed quite quiet and shy. Gerald seemed to like keeping himself to himself, which is unusual in the normally social and interactive kids’ programme. His aloneness touched Gaby and she felt in her heart that she would be the right trainer to do his process with him.
Respecting Gerald’s natural quietness, Gaby began the process with a tender sensitivity and lightness. In the Kids’ Journey the child imagines going down a set of ten steps, knowing that every step they take will carry them into a place of safety and relaxation and that on the bottom step they will open into an ocean of light, a vast presence of peace and love. Gerald took to the process easily, loved opening into the peace and love, and when he was on the bottom step described to Gaby that, in his mind’s eye, he was sitting by himself on a warm beach, happy and alone, basking in the sun. Gaby noted that he said he was alone and asked if he felt alright in his aloneness. ‘Oh, yes, I’m very happy. I like to be alone.’ It seemed clear that he was genuinely content, so Gaby continued with the process.
In his mind’s eye Gerald walked through the door, greeted his mentor and together they stepped into an imaginary space shuttle – so magical that it can carry you safely and gracefully into any part of the body. It carries you to the specific place where an emotional issue is stored. Gerald loved ‘cruising’ in the space shuttle and it guided him very easily and naturally to a part of his body where a specific cell memory was stored. Surprisingly, the memory had almost the opposite feeling to the beach scene. Apparently, when he was about three-and-a-half years old his parents had taken him to a firework display on a warm summer’s night. Everyone screamed and ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ as the explosions in the sky blasted one after the other, but Gerald kept telling his parents that he didn’t feel comfortable and he didn’t want to be there. Sitting in the dark, not knowing what was coming next, then the blinding light followed by huge thunderous explosions, the screams of excitement coming from everywhere, from faces he couldn’t even see – it was all too much for him. All he craved was a nice warm quiet place where he could just rest peacefully. He tried to express himself, but the more he spoke up, the more his parents ‘shushed’ him, overriding his discomfort and softly coaxing him not to be a baby – ‘Everyone else is enjoying it.’
To many of us, this may seem like a harmless enough memory. Haven’t we all been ‘shushed’ at some time or another? Haven’t we all been told in some way or other that ‘children should be seen and not heard’? And yet what made this particular memory so potent was that Gerald was extremely scared; he was in a peak emotional state. Repeatedly the loud noises and screams frightened him anew and yet he was basically told to ‘stuff it’. So he shut down internally. His body got the message: ‘If I feel a strong emotion and express it, I’ll just be made to shut up.’ From that he construed: ‘It’s not OK to feel those feelings and it’s certainly not OK to express them.’ In that realization, something happened inside Gerald: ‘If I’m not allowed to feel or express my feelings, then I’d rather be alone. That way I won’t have anyone around me to stir up scary or intense emotions, and I can feel safe just to be myself.’ At three and a half he’d already experienced the crystallizing event that would change