Push

Note: I've been struggling with the idea of this post for a few weeks. Time to live up to the name of this blog and just get something out there.

Since the Boy has been at Wilderness therapy, I've thinking a lot about what it means to mentally or emotionally push someone. When someone we love or care about may be stuck--how do we help them get unstuck? Do they see themselves as stuck? Do they want to get unstuck? What are the lines and limits? What about a parent pushing a child? A spouse pushing a spouse? A friend or co-worker pushing one of the same?

I've been pushed and have done some pushing. I was talking to my friend Kerrie about is, and she asked why I thought "pushing" had a negative connotation. I wasn't sure. Was it because sometimes it is hard to tell the difference between nagging and pushing?  I mainly think about it in the context of the Boy who wouldn't get out of bed for sixth months. I could have pushed him, but if he couldn't get out of bed, how much would pushing him have damaged my relationship with him? Would it have been pushing, nagging or cajoling? Or, worse, being a bully? "Hey ya big loser! Get out of bed!" That sounds abusive.

Let me think of a few examples from my work and personal life. I had suggested to my former peer that he apply for the role of manager for our team.

"No, no, no, not me," he said. "I have to move back to Seattle and here are the twenty reasons I can't do it blah blah blah." None of those reasons had to do with whether or not he could do the job or if he wanted to do the job. It was all extraneous. I ranted and marched around the condo yelling into my phone. I got another co-worker on the line to listen and bear witness to my rant. My co-worker ranted right back at me as to why he couldn't do it.

This went on for two hours.

Somewhat surprisingly, he called the next morning and said, "You are right. I should apply for the manager job." Not surprisingly, he got the job.

Turnabout is fair play, and then he pushed me back about getting the Boy into treatment and then later about getting out of town on the Fourth of July. At both, I bristled at the first suggestion, as he did when I suggested he apply to be the manager. When I thought about getting the Boy into treatment and taking a trip, I realized he was right. In these three cases, pushing worked.

Then I think about pushing the Boy. Should I have pushed him harder? How would he have responded? My fear is that he would have not reacted positively to pushing, that it would have made in worse, not better. I think I did the best I could with what I knew at the time.

Perhaps part of the art of pushing is knowing when to push and when to back off. Part of pushing is knowing the pushee and knowing their willingness to be influenced by the person who is pushing. Also involved is knowing why the person is pushing: are they pushing for their own self-gain or because they will benefit, or are they acting in the best interest of the other person? Let's say a parent wants their kid to get good grades in school. Is this in the kid's best interest? Of course. Good grades open doors and provide options. Is getting good grades in the best interest of the parent? Sure. They might want their kid to get a good job and not sleep on their couch and smoke weed for the next twenty years. Or, the parent may want to brag to their friends that Billy got into Yale...

Sometimes the messenger can be the problem, not in a bad way, but because of complexity. When a parent pushes a child, there are a million moving parts to the relationship. I am the Boy's caretaker and the source of maternal love. I could have pushed, but the internal challenges he faced are more than I could adequately respond to and manage. Sending the Boy to Wilderness allowed someone else to do the pushing, not me. Is that pushing by proxy? Perhaps. I pushed to get him to a place where he could be pushed.