My Kid, Your Kid - The Anchoress
“I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” - Henry David Thoreau
As a parent, it’s always interesting to discuss and discover the kinds of kids that we’re all dealing with in our little microcosms. Our My Kid, Your Kid series explores a common blend of traits that we see replicated in a number of kids we all know and love. We don’t discuss a ‘type’ of kid in order to diminish the beautiful idiosyncrasy and individualism of our children. But we do it enable a productive discussion around how to best recognise and respond to their needs, their deeds and their desires, helping you to truly know, understand and respond to each of your children in a completely different way.
Whilst our last post in the series explored the explosive Fireball, this piece deals with a completely different little creature: The Anchoress. A vocation that emerged during the Middle Ages, an Anchoress (or male Anchorite) would consecrate herself to an ascetic life of permanent solitude and enclosure, withdrawing from the outside world to devote herself entirely to Christ. We ourselves had our own little Anchoress for quite some time, and you may well recognise the battles and behaviours we faced in growing to understand and appreciate the gift we’d been given.
Whilst enclosed in the safety and familiarity of our home, she was (and remains) an exuberant and vivacious little performer, dripping in creative proclivities and significant artistic talent. She carries herself with confidence and charm, although little things could more than often throw her off, whether it be food that’s too sweet for her liking (for real), or the harrowing search for the perfect night light.
Leaving the house however, our little Anchoress was always well attached and hyper vigilant of exactly where we were and what we were doing. Truth be told, it was hard for her to lose track of us when she was permanently wrapped around one of our legs. In the midst of unfamiliar settings, colours and noises of other children, she would prefer to remain upon a lap, observing from a distance. There was little that could break the furious bond that would keep her off playgrounds and fleeing even the most familiar of family and friends, particularly if they struggle to accept her need for a calm, quiet place in the midst of it all.
The more you pushed, the harder she held on, which tends to polarise the people around you. They would either urge you to throw her off your lap and force her to meet the world head on; or they would take the time, the care and the patience to meet her where she was at (which was usually in my arms). As parents, we learnt not to push. The more time went on, the more we recognised that she was happier, calmer and more open to the world around her when she had our unconditional support, presence and patience.
If she was happy to sit and watch her siblings play at the playground: so be it. If she didn’t want to have her face painted: no problem. If she didn’t want to sit right in front of the stage with the rest of the kids: that was fine. What mattered is that she felt grounded, safe and accepted for who she was and how she wanted to do things. Eventually, this meant changes like letting her pick her own clothes, accepting when she identified being daunted by simple things and learning to provide options when it came to meals and such. It meant learning to listen when she wanted to quit an activity because she preferred just to learn it and practice at home.
It meant, above all else, learning to trust her, believe her and accept that the world presented itself to her in a different way. Whether it be the cold, the dark, the noise or the unfamiliar - all that mattered was how she experienced it and what liberties she had to either engage or observe from a distance - all on her own terms. Our little Anchoress, and yours if you have one, is wired with a sensitivity, insight and awareness that not all of us have.
What we learnt was that the less she was pushed, the more empowered and independent she tended to feel. And I’m not discussing a journey of days and weeks, but one of months and years. Thankfully, we’ve opted out of an educational approach that would’ve had her grappling with an inflexible routine and the unpredictability of at least 20 other kids in the room. Forcing her to adapt, day after day, to a system that was built to facilitate learning en masse was probably not going to be the best approach for her. Luckily enough, this was a choice we made years before we got to know our little Anchoress and her way of life.
And now? Much to our surprise, without warning, she began to step beyond what were her habitual means of self protection. She began to step away, further and further, to play, to laugh, to explore and experiment more and more. When the time calls for it, she will at times opt to stay within the safety and familiarity our home rather than venture out, but she’s making the choice more out of personal preference than what was once fear.
Is she still blessed with a keen perception, awareness and insight of the places and people around her? Absolutely. Does she still revel in moments of solitude and private application to the works and wonders of her own design? Without a doubt. Sometimes, our kids will remind us of the needs we all have, whether or not we recognise them. There is something in many of us, if not most of us, that needs silence, solitude and the time to reflect, ruminate and create without interruption. Our little Anchoress reminds us to step back, switch off and find ourselves and our vocations though treading our own paths, in our own ways. In our family of seven kids, one can understand how those moments of silence and introspection become all the more valuable.
So if you’re blessed with a little Anchoress, or Anchorite, do all you can to protect that space and that silence they may need. Learn when and how to encourage exploration, as well as when to love and accept your kids just as they are. As my beloved wife liked to remind me, they won’t be clutching at our legs and diving onto our laps for safety in fifteen years time - so cherish the innocence and affection whilst it lasts.