On Mindfulness and Fears

The way we act and react in front of our children matters.

pexels-pixabay-39369.jpg

A special Miss Siriana story

The other day, I was on one of my daily dog walks around the neighborhood. There have been plenty of those since March—as I’m sure we all know.

Our little Pomeranian stopped mid-sniff and saw the four deer in front of us. Two doe, and two fawns. The first mother noticed us and immediately froze. As I steered our 8-pound menace away from them, she stood still. Her eyes never left ours; she sensed a threat, but still she held her ground.

pexels-pixabay-356361.jpg

I wondered if she would charge our way to defend her fawn.

Now, the other doe acted a bit . . .differently.

Unlike her calm and steady friend, she jumped into a panic and anxiously darted across the lawn. Back and forth, left and right, she looked like a cartoon character all frenzied up.

As for their offspring, one fawn continued eating peacefully—and the other become a terrified tornado, forgetting her appetite completely.

Can you guess which fawn belonged to which mother? And the moral of this story? Panicked people make for panicked children.

In the classroom, I teach all my children that some emotions feel great and others, not so much. Sadness, anger, frustration, shame, loneliness, fear. These are all natural feelings on our colorful spectrum of human emotion.

They never feel great, yet they are integral to our collective human experience. I probably feel each of these emotions by 10am each day in the classroom. But I work through them in healthy ways and keep coming back the next morning with a smile and full heart.

In the classroom, I give space for children to feel these bad or icky feelings. We talk about what happened, we learn to name our emotions, and we try to find a coping mechanism. And we always (always) check in on ourselves and our friends who need some comfort.

In any moment, but especially in times of distress or confusion, children turn to their caregivers for guidance. We are their protectors—and they take their emotional cues from us.

Personally, I’m a little worrywart in risky situations. Adrenaline rush from skydiving? No, thank you! For better or for worse, I like to know what’s happening and feel in control. And many young children feel that way, too. It might be my natural temperament, or it might be an impact of growing up with immigrant parents who left their safe, Lebanese hometown and acted more cautiously in their new country.

pexels-photo-4545152.jpg

The first step in supporting your child’s emotional health is recognizing their needs and tendencies.

Ask yourself if your child needs more verbal comfort or the warmth of a hug. What upsets them and what soothes them? We cannot help the child that we do not understand.

As caregivers of young children, we have a big responsibility. Life gets scary, bad things happen, and we are only human.

As much as we can—as difficult as it may be—when we find ourselves feeling scared or apprehensive, we have to bring mindfulness back into our lives. We have to find healthy, responsible ways to translate our emotional experiences to our children. This holds true especially now, with the world experiencing the same global pandemic. We are together in this experience. We might not know what to expect. Our plans have changed, our expectations altered. And that’s scary for anyone, let alone a child.

The most important step we can take is to be mindful in our actions and reactions. Like the young fawns mirroring their mothers, your child will follow your lead.

PBS, the Child Mind Institute, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention have given families great advice. Learn how to answer their questions. Integrate healthy technology and media habits into your life. And support your own emotional needs. Experience your emotions, but remember: always check in on yourself and your friends.

Your child will learn to do the same.

Previous
Previous

Finding Rainbows

Next
Next

Allusio Together: Empowering You as a Home Educator