Flourishing tree of philosophical self-care

“[This session] reminded [me] that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes getting worried about things might not be so easy to pull through but having it at the back of your heart (mind) that tomorrow brings us better results gives one a lot of relief and assurance to continue moving forward.”
Parent

A tree flourishes in the light after dark times at the end of the book The Red Tree by Shaun Tan – and in our second Parents and P4C session there was light and shade as we collaboratively tackled the big idea of coping. This conceptual focus had been identified by the community of parents themselves.

Initially, I asked them to choose a postcard that connected to something they had coped with today, or very recently, as a warm-up to the main event. However, this simple philosophical exercise to forge connections and build a community, lasted for half an hour and unlocked emotions and honesty that was personal, yet unifying.

A parent for whom English is her second language, immediately raised the question, ‘What does coping mean?’ This was an indication of both the thinking and supportive space we were cultivating. It was an important question. We discussed synonyms of coping such as: managing, getting by, surviving… This helped. Antonyms such as ‘crumbling’ and ‘failing’ were provocative as it seemed a rapid decline if you weren’t coping to be those – and surely something comes in-between coping and crumbling? One parent struggled to speak through her emotion as she went to explain the reasons for her postcard choice. Collectively, we cared for her by being patient and ready to listen; she decided to wait to speak. Parents spoke of numbness and constant guilt about whether they were doing a good enough job as a parent; whether caring for themselves enabled them to ‘cope’ or encroached on time they perceived they didn’t have available. Another mentioned a constant whirring internal dialogue of lists of jobs to do that sometimes they processed in the early hours of the morning as that was their only ‘free’ time. A different parent spoke of dreading the week after a weekend where they have had support from their partner. A collective alliance was forming as a realisation grew that parents have similar experiences and feelings but that they are often left unshared, so everyone ends up believing the coping illusion that many of us present to the world.

We returned to the parent who had become upset when speaking first and she now shared how she felt a struggle as a parent to spend as much time with her first child, now she has a second. To a parent of five children in the room, this could have seemed a small concern, but everyone listened and valued each person’s contribution from their unique perspective.

This shared parenting experience was powerful because now we could explore the terrain together.

We watched and read the stimulus The Red Tree, which felt brave, as it presents diverse emotional landscapes – and we were already in one. The book was passed round, the video version was watched in calm silence and reflection followed.

First thoughts and responses included: light (and hope) at the end of the tunnel; ideas about not knowing who you are; questions such as ‘What should be hidden?’ Another important thought started maturing, which stemmed from the idea that we need to recognise the light from the tree when it comes and ‘be in it.’

As a community, we had not formed our own philosophical questions before – and time had run away with us due to the intensity and commitment to our thinking – but I pushed on as it felt important to capture the thinking for next time. The collaboratively formed questions were:

• Are we meant to be doing everything we think we should be doing?
• Is it being selfish, looking after yourself?
• When you’re not coping, what can help you get through?
• Should we not put on that persona all the time of coping?
• Can things that we don’t want to do help us cope?
• Do we have to cope? And if we don’t what next?

The last question was posed by a parent who had arrived late, however she not only quickly assimilated into the community but became an integral part of the conversation. Once she had posed it, every person there started talking about it – this was a significant indicator that this question was not only conceptual and contestable, but also compelling and acutely connected to them.

This is where we would start from next time.

To conclude our time together, before the school hall was quickly turned around for an assembly, I asked what was significant for them today that they will take home with them. Replies included, ‘That I’m not going through all this chaos of parenting alone and I’m ‘feeling understood and somehow validated.’ Another woman stated, ‘Knowing that it is OK to not know all the answers. Knowing others are feeling the same.’

I hope these parents choose to return next month when we reconvene as you could not fail to sense the raw emotion, honesty and supportive reassurance that had resonated around the space. Two parents had returned after the first session in July and in fact one of those parents had prioritised it as something for herself, that in her eyes was a form of self-care on her day off.

In fact, long after the session had finished and I had collected my own children from school, I was still thinking about its effect on me as I knew I had become a co-enquirer and found myself reflecting on my own coping mechanisms.

This afternoon had felt important and worthwhile both professionally and personally.

Here in front of me was a young, philosophical sapling that was experiencing new growth – and I felt hopeful.

The image of the girl and the red tree is an illustration by Shaun Tan from the book ‘The Red Tree’ first published in 2001.