Monthly Archives: February 2024

Dumped by adult kids? Get into the Zone

dumped by adult kids

Dumped by adult kids? Get into the Zone

By Sheri McGregor, M.A.

Yesterday, as I returned to my car, I noticed a woman emerging from one of the shops with a bouquet of heart-shaped balloons and remembered—Valentine’s Day! I had contemplated the holiday weeks ago while thinking of what to write about it for this site. But I had become so engrossed in what I found that I forgot the day altogether. Immersed in my research, I had entered a state of “flow.”

The wonderful experience of being so caught up in the moment that you’re oblivious to time or pain has been studied extensively. The benefits are clear for increased learning, enhanced creativity, and joy.

As a writer, I’m no stranger to the state of flow—and my guess is that many of you have experienced it too. In 1975, researcher, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, first coined the term “flow,” which has since been studied extensively. The flow state is most often associated with meaningful work, predicts higher performance, productivity and, in business settings, financial gains. But being in the zone, which is another way to describe this state, is also achieved during hobbies and other pursuits. Finding activities that provide meaning—and getting engrossed in them—is one key to a purposeful life.

But . . .

Sometimes I hear parents lament their advancing age, health woes, and lack of connection, all made worse by estrangement. I can certainly empathize. It’s hard to accept and deal with life’s challenges. And some of us have more to deal with than others do. I also know that, no matter our circumstances, purposefully focusing our energy on meaningful pursuits can transport us toward peace.

Midge, a mother of estranged adult children who is in her mid-80s, has multiple auto-immune conditions that limit her life. When she found herself all alone and suffering, she did her share of crying. Then she took up an old hobby she loves: watercolor painting.

With simple brushstrokes and vibrant colors, Midge enhances cut and folded card stock she then inscribes with positive messages, some scriptural. Midge sends these in bulk to helping organizations where the cards raise the spirits of individuals they’re distributed to. “I can get lost in that work,” says Midge. “It has helped me escape the pain … both physical and emotional.”

Midge’s work is attached to homelessness, which is sometimes connected to addiction or domestic violence. All of these have touched Midge’s life, so her form of flow brings deep personal meaning that connects to a larger pursuit. But not every entry point to flow must join with a social cause.

One widow, Sally, has made it her mission to clear out her home. Sally’s husband began “collecting,” after their daughter left the family. Fourteen years post-estrangement, he died and left Sally with mountains to clear. “There are a few pearls among the trash heaps,” she says of the dusty, sometimes moldy collectibles that range from magazines, to record albums, to miniature statues, and art. Sally, who has arthritis and circulation problems, is taking it slow, organizing a clearing process that increases her own safety and ease of movement: The entry hall’s floor, then the table, and then on to the shelf. The path to the dining table, the chairs and tabletop, and beyond. . . .

“It’s a job,” says Sally, “but I can get lost in looking at each item, and releasing it to donate, offer to my son, trash, or sell.” Sally remembers the mess her father-in-law left behind when he died, and that memory motivates her progress. “I wouldn’t wish that job on anyone,” she says. Her son lives far away but he’d be the one tasked to clear the house if she doesn’t. Working on making her current living situation safer and more enjoyable, plus acting for her son’s future ease, brings motivating meaning that drives Sally’s daily forays into flow.

A father, Thomas, who was dumped by adult kids, still lives in the home where he raised them. He says he’s getting “lost in a good way” in fixing up his home. “I’ve got some life left in me,” he says. “So why live with leaky toilets, creaky cupboards, and the uneven back steps that have bugged me for so long?” He hires out some of the work but enjoys the planning too. “I can get lost in home design photographs, imagining what tile flooring will best transition from one room to the next.” Thomas has been an outdoorsman most of his life. “But I have to protect my skin now in the Florida sun.” Thomas has had several skin cancers removed. He added gazebos and other shade structures all around his front and back yards. “Even planning that stuff got me in the zone,” he says.

Is there a bigger sense of meaning to Thomas’s pursuits? “To live,” he says. “To arrange things for my own satisfaction. To make my home a place I really love to be.”

Sensible Thomas remembers what it was like when the kids were young, and his wife left them all. “I raised them alone and did a good job of it. Now they’re all in touch with her again but I refuse to let them steal my joy. This is my life.” With a chuckle, Thomas adds, “Maybe when my house is done, I’ll have a beautiful place for a beautiful second wife after all these years.”

My old friend

I’m an old friend to the flow state—and also know its downsides. When writing Done With The Crying, I was so in the zone that I’d forget all sense of time and space. At some point, after hours of work, I’d wake up from a sort of spell and realize I’d been fixed in the same position for hours. That inactivity took a toll on my body, but the work was so meaningful, and that meaning brought me joy (as did the state of flow itself). This downside experience is why I invested in a standing desk, which is where I write most of the site articles and create presentations and other work. I still get into the zone doing this work to help parents dumped by adult kids, which I still find meaningful, and consider my life’s work.

As time has marched forward, I’ve experienced limitations that have changed my ability to get into a variety of activities that take me to that state of flow. A few years ago, I realized that some elements of gardening hurt more than they used to. I’m not alone there—which is why there’s a hot market for ready-made raised beds, knee pads, padded shovel handles, and even gardening chairs.

Changes to our abilities don’t always require a total loss. We use reading glasses as our vision’s flexibility changes with age. A colorful folding cane can make stability a fashion statement. White hair can be dyed with streaks (a friend of mine has purple hair) or shaved entirely.

Like I have done with my standing desk, find ways to adapt your doorway to flow. Looking for solutions is a form of creativity. Thank goodness for ingenious, creative solutions that make life better.

Creativity, mood, and flow

The state of flow has been closely connected to creativity, and much of the research began on creative pursuits such as music and art. But work of almost any kind can envelope flow. Like my writing, or someone’s building or teaching or some other vocation.  Where a person has some sense of autonomy and control, creativity becomes part of the work, and dovetails with flow.

A 2011 study found that deep engagement, especially in work fueled by intrinsic motivation (rather than strictly extrinsic motivation, such as a paycheck), sparked creativity that lasted for many days. Both flow and creativity are also associated with more positive moods. So, finding and enjoying meaningful work can help us let go of suffering states, connect to deeper meaning, and experience the relaxed but attentive state of flow that’s beneficial to our well-being. (I’ll be sharing more about this in the future.)

My Valentine’s Day research

So, what was the research that began weeks before Valentine’s Day and aimed at what I might write for the site? It was flowers. My internet surf for related ideas brought up the secret language of flowers from times past when specific flowers said what could not be said aloud. That led to flower meanings, which led to which ones I might want to grow as beautiful messages of healing and productivity for myself.

I haven’t decided for certain yet which flowers I’ll add to my landscape, but imagining a bright thicket of Black-eyed Susan whispering “justice” on a summer’s breeze makes me smile. So does the thought of a colorful patch of Butterfly Weed reminding me to tell old rumination loops in my thinking to “let me go.” The concept brings a whole new and creative element to my annual late winter garden planning!

The challenge

When we’re dumped by adult kids, it’s up to us to take charge of our well-being and make something more of our precious time on the Earth. For your own good, to find meaning, spark creativity, and enhance your mood, I challenge you to consider your own past experiences with “flow.” Then, get creative with how you see your interests, your work, your hobbies, and your life. You can find flow in purging your kitchen cabinets of family-size bowls and bins you no longer need. Or dive into day-long cooking you can freeze in small portions for easy, healthy dinners that will nourish you all month. Re-do your home for your next life phase, connect a much-loved hobby to a bigger social pursuit, or find meaning in decluttering for your own ease and to someday help an heir.

No matter your life or circumstances, consider how your pursuits can enhance autonomy and connect to a bigger purpose for your life—right now or into the future. Time passes much too quickly. You might as well spend some of it the zone.

Related reading

Mindful photography: Find your “self” in photos

The history of flower meanings

Flower language in the Victorian era

 

 

Hurtful relationships with adult children: Have you lost yourself?

hurtful relationships with adult childrenHurtful relationships with adult children:
Have you lost yourself?

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

On my dad’s birthday when I was seven, he arrived from work holding a bakery box. His blue eyes alight, he set it on the table. “My friends at the office gave me this sponge cake.”

“A sponge cake?” I hung back, feeling strangely uneasy as he opened the lid.

“Well, come on,” he urged with a grin.

My siblings and I sidled up to the table to see a gorgeous rectangular cake with pillowy white icing. Other than a smeary spot at one end, perfectly piped yellow frosting framed the words “Happy Birthday” written in looping blue.

My mouth watered.  “You didn’t eat any yet?”

“Nope.” My dad winked at my siblings. “I saved it for you.”

Puzzled, I looked from him back to the tempting cake.

“Here,” he said. “I’ll let you cut it.” He motioned to my mom, who pulled a knife from the drawer. They exchanged a glance as she handed it to him. “Go ahead,” he said, pressing the heavy handle into my little hand.

Something wasn’t right. Still, I carefully pressed the blade into the cake and pushed. It didn’t budge. I pressed harder, and the knife started to slip.

Everyone laughed as my dad wrapped his hands around mine and took back the knife. He spread aside some icing to reveal a thick wedge of man-made foam rubber. “They thought it’d be funny,” he said of his office friends.

My mom explained that there really was a dessert called “sponge cake.” Then she brought a real birthday cake to the table. After the song and candles, we all ate the chocolatey confection with vanilla ice cream. My dad recalled aloud how his office mates had laughed when he’d tried to cut into the cake.

You and your gut

My dad’s long-ago birthday is my first conscious memory of knowing without knowing that something wasn’t right. That day, I had been persuaded to ignore my siblings’ nervous smiles, my parents’ odd decision to hand a 7-year-old the knife, and a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. My innate inner wisdom was overrun by the people I’d come to trust. And let’s not forget the tempting promise of delicious cake.

Obviously, nothing sinister happened that day. Fooling the youngest in the family had been in good fun. And at the office, my father had also been tricked. But as I look back now, trust and temptation achieved the desired result. I had ignored my gut.

My remembered incident is a benign example, but some future incidents weren’t so innocent and full of love—even if I thought so at the time and was duped. Maybe you remember times when you ignored your gut, whether in fun situations or ones that resulted in harm.

So badly wanting a bond, loving parents in hurtful relationships with adult children sometimes fall prey to similar scenarios. They listen to other people, overlook painful history, squelch their own wise inner voice, and ignore their gut. The temptation of sweet grandchildren they’d love to know, the memories of how things once were (so, how they might possibly be again), or the desire to go along to get along, or to make other family members happy can overrun better judgment.

The point of no return

Parents in hurtful relationships with adult children may be shaken awake with escalating psychological or physical abuse. Some parents invest their life savings in real property based on the promise of family togetherness in a joint living situation. They may even deed the real estate to their son or daughter, thinking this will simplify paperwork for their heirs upon their eventual death. Then, when it comes time to move in, the adult child suddenly makes blindingly clear the plan won’t be happening. Some parents endure a medical crisis and discover the one holding their health proxy isn’t reliable, or worthy of trust. Then, still healing, and grateful to be alive, they scramble to re-choose and redo their documents.

Sometimes, such a turning point leads to parents finding this website and my books. And then they may realize their grown child has been detaching for a lot longer than they were willing to see or admit. These parents had ignored their gut, their eyes, and even their ears for an elusive ideal they later realized with sudden clarity existed only in their hopes and dreams.

“I used to see my son’s name on the Caller ID,” says divorced mother Tammy, “and my stomach would drop.” Tammy’s gut instinct was not to answer but she felt she couldn’t say “no” to her son. She explains, “My endless giving was the relationship.”

Tammy knew from the past that if she didn’t give, her son would initiate the silent treatment, which would last for days, weeks, or even months. And during that time, she’d suffer physically with indigestion and a tight chest. Meanwhile, in her head she’d be playing familiar guilt tapes from other relationships. If she didn’t love them enough to help, then she wasn’t a good wife, sister, or mom. Even friendships had left Tammy with baggage. If she wouldn’t do “this one thing” then she was cold-hearted or wasn’t the person they’d always thought she was. If she didn’t give in to someone else’s will then she wouldn’t be loved. “I thought even God wouldn’t love me,” says Tammy.

Truth tracks?

On some level, we all carry what we unconsciously regard as truth tracks. Never mind that these reverberating words in our thinking are often far from the truth. They are manipulative talk or tactics from those who controlled us in the past. In our own voice, our inner critic will frequently use the language we’ve heard from authority figures, siblings, the pulpit, or society at large.

In Done With The Crying, I wrote that one of the first elements needed in my own escape from the quicksand of estrangement pain was becoming mindful of my thoughts. Once you’re aware of your thinking, the thoughts can be examined, questioned, and put where they belong—and sometimes that’s the trash heap.

In my second book (Beyond Done ), I discussed this thought analysis and the connected shifts in the sections on self-imposed boundaries, which I have also called internal or inward boundaries. As mentioned in Beyond Done , “Boundaries don’t always involve another person’s behavior. Sometimes, it’s your own behavior or thinking you must halt.”

Instead of taking on a mean or shaming voice, we can offer ourselves compassion and love. Instead of focusing on all that’s wrong—and getting caught up in an emotional pain loop—we can shift our focus to something in our physical world, bring our attention to the present moment, and take charge where we can. (Watch for more on this topic in the near future–join the newsletter so you don’t miss out.)

Well, hello there, Self. . . .

Whether you have been playfully tricked, or painfully duped or shamed into ignoring your gut, or you’re just out of practice at hearing your own voice and tuning into your body’s innate wisdom, you can change. Making a practice of getting more in touch with yourself can be very beneficial. The human brain and gut are directly connected via a network of neurons. It’s the gut that synthesizes much of and measures out neurotransmitters and neurohormones that affect moods and our bodily functions in response to our moods. When we get cues from the environment, our gut interprets them chemically. If we’re in touch with these subtle cues, we’re better prepared to interpret them in ways that allow us to utilize them in our decision making, relationships, and everyday lives. If, on the other hand, we’re used to tuning out those signals that, in the past, may have kept us safe or feeling loved, then like Tammy, we’ll probably ignore them and tune into old programming that’s become an inside job instead.

When we’re under stress, overwhelmed by hurtful, confusing relationships, or fighting to save them, we don’t have the space and calm to be truly mindful of what we feel or think. It’s vital for parents in hurtful relationships with adult children to gain enough distance to take a calming breather, look honestly at the situation, take note of how they feel, and hear themselves think. That’s why I tell parents that it’s okay to shelve it all, at least for a time, and get out and enjoy your life.

My newsletters, my articles here, the exercises in my books, and the meetings and discussion inside the membership community where parents like you are taking charge of themselves and their lives, are all designed to help. With gumption and support, you can be like so many who come to terms with estrangement and take back the power over their own precious lives.

Laura is a 77-year-old mother whose son, now in his 50s, walked completely out of her life two years ago. Laura was devastated but, during the silence, she read my first book and did the exercises. Then she started the second book, and things grew even clearer. “One never wants to believe that their own child doesn’t love them,” she says. “But I realize now that he began treating me badly way back when he was eighteen.”

In the stressful decades of frequent interaction, and under the spell of his warped reflection of her, Laura hadn’t connected her feelings of despair and bitterness to her unkind son. My books and their included exercises have helped her begin to, as she says, “see the light.” She adds, “It still hurts me, of course, but I suddenly realized I could change and do better. I feel lighter and much more positive.”

If Laura’s son wanted to reconcile, she knows she couldn’t go back to the way things were. He’d have huge changes to make because, in his absence, she has learned to take care of herself. She is like so many parents who emerge from hurtful relationships with adult children and begin to see themselves without the muddy, blame-the-parent veil. In short, Laura and many other parents step away from hurtful relationships with adult children and use the time to tune into their own needs and self-worth.

Related reading

Abusive adult children influence parents’ self-image

Call it what it is: Abuse by adult children

Just for fun:

Face cake prank

Birthday cake with a “pop!”

 

Parents of abusive or neglectful adult children: Purge toxic mindsets

neglectful adult children

Image by Photo Mix from Pixabay

Parents of abusive or neglectful adult children:
Purge toxic mindsets

by Sheri McGregor, M.A.

Ancient Romans saw February as a time of starting anew, even though the official year didn’t start until the warmer weather of March. They used the cold winter period to clear out and cleanse. Ancient “Februalia” was a festival time of purifying the physical body and environment as well as spiritually cleansing the figurative heart and soul.

In our modern society, we’re not far past our goal making of the New Year. Let’s use these wintry days to contemplate and then purge our unhelpful thinking. Here, I’ve included five toxic mindsets to release.

#1–Is self-care selfish?

In my coaching work, I can’t tell you how many times a parent will say, “Maybe it sounds selfish but. . . .” They usually go on to talk about a new level of abuse or neglect by adult children that has motivated their shift.  They want to create better boundaries and focus on their own lives instead of the old ruts of trying to fix what they didn’t break.

Self-care is not selfish. Many of us have spent a lifetime putting others’ needs first. Whether we formed that habit in our families of origin or later lost ourselves, a continually depleting cycle leaves us running on empty. It’s dangerous to act as the caboose to a runaway train. We aren’t selfish to detach and learn to care for ourselves. Whether we do or don’t someday successfully reconcile with estranged adult children, if we take care of ourselves now, we’ll be stronger then.

#2–Comparing yourself to “luckier” parents

I have written about this previously but truth bears repeating: Thinking someone has it better than you can hurt. Comparing your life to another’s fosters envy and hopelessness. Besides, what you’re perceiving often isn’t real. People show the world what they want to reveal. A friend’s “loyal” adult daughter you wish you had may not be as dependable and loving as you think.

Frequently, mental illness plays a role in estrangement. With genetics implicated in mental disorders, families with one affected member may have another. The mom or dad you consider “lucky” may suffer behind-closed-door chaos, marathons of patience, and enduring uncertainty or distrust. And let’s not forget the guilt. Even when “loyal” kids truly are great, parents must learn to manage their rejection fears and other anxieties that derive from the estrangement. Thinking another parent has it better only blocks your ability to empathize and further isolates you.

#3–I can’t be happy unless. . . .

For parents with neglectful adult children, the thinking usually goes something like this: “I can’t be happy unless my child is back in my life.” It’s an estrangement-specific version of the broader toxic mindset that starts with, “I’ll be happy when. . . .” The trouble is, when we connect our future to a goal that’s beyond our control to achieve, we may never reach it. Lose this toxic mindset and adopt a healthier one where you hold the power.

Try new hobbies or ones you’ve always loved. Focus on the things that bring you joy, no matter how small. Smile at people you meet. Stop to chat about someone’s pet or garden.

Get out of your head and into the present. There’s a whole wide world beyond the negatively skewed news playing on TV or in our minds. I recently heard some good advice via a mom of difficult and distant adult children. Her dad’s dying message was for her to “have fun.”

#4–Thinking you didn’t do enough

Hindsight isn’t always 20-20. That’s especially true when neglectful adult children spur parents’ analysis of everything they may have ever done wrong. In Done With The Crying, there’s an exercise to shift that mistake-magnifying mindset. Parents often feel responsible for things they had no control over.

The most frequent iteration I hear is about an adult child diagnosed with a disorder. Parents lament that if they’d only understood, they’d have gotten their child help. I believe them. But even when parents did express concerns, they were sometimes met with he’ll grow out of it or it’s just teenage angst assurances. Often, even when something was noticed, treated, and managed, the eventual outcome was the same. One mother of a son on the spectrum outlined all the care she sought for him over the years. Her son is now estranged.

#5–Judging your feelings negatively

“I shouldn’t feel this way,” is how some parents characterize their emotions. After years of unkind treatment by neglectful adult children, parents may contemplate a possible reconciliation without enthusiasm. Then they feel bad about themselves and wonder: Are my feelings normal?

If you’re feeling dread, distrust, or anger, don’t negatively judge and dismiss those feelings. Instead, consider what prompts them. A mother whose adult son or daughter is emotionally abusive may feel physically threatened. She has the right to honor her emotional barometer and protect herself. A father who feels resentful that he’s shelled out all the money for college, weddings, and still picks up the yearly birthday brunch tab (the only invite the adult child doesn’t miss) has a right to close his wallet. The societal tropes about unconditional love and always being there for our children don’t hold water when it comes to unsafe, toxic relationships. For more about emotions and how to handle them, read my books (link).

Not only when in Rome. . . .

No matter where you are in the world, take February and, at least in some ways, do as ancient Romans did. Heat up the Jacuzzi, throw in some purifying salt, and direct your mind to fresh new thoughts. Don’t get caught up in all the shoulds, wishes, and regrets, or hold yourself accountable for things you didn’t know or couldn’t solve.

Related reading

Be kind to yourself

Parents wonder: Does my adult child have mental illness?