adolescence and beyond) will experience what I’ve come to call “soul fevers.” Something is not right; they’re upset, overwhelmed, at odds with the world. And most of all, at odds with their truest selves. From the toddler who absolutely can’t tolerate your authority when she is so newly intoxicated with her own, to the same child, eleven years later, who longs to fit into a social circle that bullies and berates her. Whether the source of the malady was internal or external, it’s now raging within, occupying the child’s attentionand affecting their behavior. Affecting, also, the emotional climate of the home. You could think of these as “emotional fevers,” yet I prefer “soul fever” because there is something so uniquely individual about the way each child manifests their tribulation. Just as one child never seems to run a fever, while her sister’s temperature climbs into triple digits for the slightest cold, so each child wrestles their inner trials in their own way.
Often when I’m giving a talk about parenting today, a parent will ask, “How can I tell when my child is overwhelmed?” It is a common question, usually followed by “And what can I do about it?” As for the first question, my short answer is: instincts. Instincts that we may need to develop, or redevelop. Instincts that should be—and can be—as clear and reliable as those we count on to recognize and care for our children when they’re ill.
This book is my best attempt to answer “What can we do about it?” It’s a question that so many of us ask ourselves. The truth is, what we do, instinctually, to care for our children when they’re sick could be boiled down to this: we simplify . This is exactly what we need to do when they are overwhelmed; stretched thin and stressed out by the effects of having too much stuff, too many choices, and jumping through their days too fast. It is also what we need to do when their fever is emotional rather than physical. Emotional growing pains, or soul fevers, are as natural and inevitable as the common cold, and can be “treated” in remarkably similar ways. Simplification gives children the ease they need to realign with their true selves, their real age, and with their own world rather than the stress and pressures of the adult world.
Let’s start here, then, with an example that serves as a metaphor for the whole process of simplification. Let’s look at what we tend to do without even thinking about it once we feel our child’s fevered brow, or see in them a telltale listlessness. The steps we take, and the attention we bring to caring for our children when they’re sick is, essentially, simplification. We’ll look at the signs and symptoms of soul fevers as well, and go through the steps we can take to help our children build their emotional immune systems, their resiliency. Just as we notice when they’re fighting a physical fever, we can become more attuned to their soul fevers, and when they’re simply overwhelmed.
We can learn to recognize when their systems are out of balance. Remembering what we already know (and what it is so easy to forget when we are overloaded and overwhelmed), we’ll reawaken our caretaking instincts by simplifying.
Noticing
Physical Fever: We begin to care for our child when we notice they’re not well. Shivery or hot, slower to respond, not interested in eating, a heavy, vacant look in their eyes … from these signs, individually or in combination, we can tell they’re “off,” “not themselves.” Your daughter may seem fine to me—active and bright—but one look in her eyes and you know that she has or is getting the cold her brother had last week. Their little bodies are not extensions of our own, but sometimes it feels that way, given how naturally we notice their physical fluctuations.
Soul Fever: Generally, we need to see a few symptoms of disquiet to identify a soul fever. Inner turmoil extends beyond a bad mood or brief
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