Quote of the day:
There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are different from the things we do.
Freya Madeline Stark (From CCIE)
Last night we had our last class of the semester. One of the students gave her presentation. As she was speaking she began to cough. Her face was turning red with embarrassment, with the difficulty she was having coughing and as she tried to suppress it. I offered her a sip of water from my water bottle. She drank and then continued with the presentation. However, the coughing continued, and the suppression of it. I interrupted her by telling the class that many years ago I had taken a course in Bioenergetics. I said that I did not have time to tell them all the details just that it has something to do with storing our emotions in different areas of the body and the release of energies. I explained how our teacher, Rafi Rozen, had taught us that if, for example, we start coughing, we should probably cough and cough until we can cough no more. Just get it out! Everyone was listening to me while I talked. The student continued to cough.
When I was done, a young woman in the class called out to the presenter, "Would you like us to cough with you?" I was surprised. I glanced around at everyone. They were looking straight at the student presenting. Quickly, so as not to lose the moment, I said, "Let's all cough together." We all started coughing. Our presenter was coughing and smiling. She exclaimed, "This is the weirdest class I have ever had." She turned to me, with red cheeks, her coughing becoming faint, "I mean it's the best class. But it's so weird." I smiled and looked down for a second. It was weird for me too. I had never done this before - with adults. I mean I had stopped a circle time in mid-stream for my preschoolers once, many years ago. A little girl jumped up out of her chair and started screaming for what seemed no apparent reason in the middle of my telling a story. I said to the class, "Wow! It looks like she just needs to scream. Let's sit and listen with her." We all sat while the girl stood and continued to scream at the top of her lungs. One of the children put his hands over his ears and screwed up his brow. Another said, "Let's bring her some water to drink." Yet another called out, "She needs a tissue." I encouraged the two children who had spoken up to bring a glass of water and some tissues. After a few moments they returned. The little girl stopped screaming. She stared at the two children bearing gifts. She blew her nose and drank some water, and then sat back into her chair. The room became quiet. I continued to tell the story.
It had not seemed weird at the time, all those years ago, to support one of the four year olds who was having a hard time while I was reading a story. The story could wait. It did not even matter really why she was screaming. It seemed more important that our small community should listen and be there for her, for whatever the reason. I wondered why it was weird doing the same for adults.
I looked up out of my brief reverie, memory of when I was a teacher of young children. A few minutes later the student said, "Okay, I feel better now." She had stopped coughing. She completed her presentation. Everyone applauded.
For a moment, I felt an energy in the room. The kind that comes when people have prayed or meditated together.
What a great classroom experience!
Posted by: nappy40 | December 13, 2005 at 09:49 AM
Many of us adults could use more 4 year-old kindness.
Posted by: moose | December 13, 2005 at 11:27 AM
Beautiful.
Posted by: Mary | December 13, 2005 at 12:17 PM
You created a very safe space. All kinds of good things can come from it. Bravo!
Posted by: savtadotty | December 13, 2005 at 12:23 PM
Great story, Tamar, and a wonderful addition to your next book! I remember you doing stuff like that in your conference presentations. We all tend to focus so much on the CONTENT of what we're doing we tend to forget that what's really important is what's HAPPENING.
Posted by: Danny | December 13, 2005 at 02:05 PM
More "living in the moment" stuff, Tamar. Wonder how the world would be different if we could handle screaming, weary, troubled adults as you handled the little girl in the circle? Sometimes we do need to scream (or cry or kick an inanimate object), though we can't explain why. If we could just get it out and move on without causing distress to ourselves or others, my suspicion is that we'd all be healthier.
Posted by: MaryB | December 13, 2005 at 03:04 PM
Both examples are wonderful! I don't know why but I love the idea of a whole class coughing!
Posted by: kimbofo | December 13, 2005 at 03:43 PM
Assume I've just said exactly what Mary said, but in fifteen times as many words.
And to follow up Mary B., the world might be different if more adults merely recognized when they needed to cry or laugh or scream. Especially cry.
Posted by: Richard Lawrence Cohen | December 13, 2005 at 04:23 PM
Empathetic coughing can build community. That's great!
By the way, Tamar, I love the quote at the beginning of your post. While on no day of my life am I successful at living out what I believe to be most important, the most painful and disappointing days are those on which I live far from what I believe.
I hope that all is well with you!
Mark Daniels
Posted by: Mark Daniels | December 13, 2005 at 09:51 PM
I love this story, Tamar. You have given me a tidbit to carry with me when dealing with my almost-5 year old...and my 8 yr. old...and my 12 yr. old...and...well, you get the idea.
Posted by: Adriana Bliss | December 13, 2005 at 10:26 PM