Picture yourself as Jane Goodall, going on “safari” in your family of origin. You will learn to observe a strange herd of humans in their natural habitat, the household. Who are the “alpha” males and females? Who are the outcasts? Where is the tension, competition, or power struggles?

Ironically, humans first have to learn how our herd instincts run our lives before we can become true individuals with clear principles and direction. Once we recognize the complex relationships by which a family passes its baggage on from generation to generation, then we gain the poise to stand right in the middle of our family’s crazymaking without soaking up the drama.

Let’s begin the safari into our families with a source of much drama for many of us: the mother. She is our source of life, and we have been reacting to her since before we left the womb.

As adults, many people don’t get along with their mothers. Take this true story example: Alan is in a conversation with his mother. They haven’t gotten along well for years, and there’s a lot of mutual suspicion and bad blood between them. They both have excellent justifications for why the breach is the other person’s fault; both have plenty of blame to place.

Likely, the reason the two of them don’t get along is because when Alan and his mom are together, their anxiety instinct is hyper-vigilant, with its finger on the trigger of fight-or-flight mode. In their conversations, someone is constantly attacking, counter-attacking, justifying or explaining his or her behavior. They do not realize this, because their instincts have taken over. Alan is so reactive around his mother that it feels better (and seems prudent) just to avoid her. This is Alan’s flight response: he escapes either physically (by not calling) or emotionally (by not talking about any personal or sensitive topics).

Sound familiar, even to a certain degree? How do you learn to observe your interactions with your mother, instead of letting your automatic instincts rule? It starts out with tiny baby steps.

Let’s go back to Alan, who is trying to break free of his fight or flight instinct. At first, he only notices that as he’s on his way to meet his mother, his wife, Debbie, seems to be doing a lot of dumb things and making mistakes. He thinks his criticism of Debbie is justified, but in fact, he’s acting out of the anxiety that’s building within him as he anticipates being in the same room with his mom. This anxiety has heightened his irritability, so little things Debbie does seem like a big deal to him.

Debbie’s behavior, in fact, hasn’t changed. Alan catches himself snapping at Debbie, and realizes, “Hey—I’m focusing a lot on Debbie’s behavior, and that tells me that whenever I’m finding fault with others, that’s a red-flag that I’m anxious about something. I wonder what that could be…”

At this point the reader may be asking, “In the heat of the moment, how can I possibly remember that the things irritating me are really just my own anxiety talking?” Same way you get to Carnegie Hall. Practice. At first, it will be easier to notice your heightened anxiety/irritability in the hours leading up to a stressful meeting with someone. The act of just noticing your anxiety will lower it, and you’ll be able to approach your meeting more thoughtfully and resourcefully. Or, you may notice how anxious and reactive you are after you’ve left a stressful meeting, in which case you’ll be able to recover your inner peace more quickly, rather than fuming for hours or snapping at your loved ones.
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David Code is an Episcopal minister, family coach, writer, and founder of The Center for Staying Married & Raising Great Kids.

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