Finding Home

Settling in for the Holiday

Dear Kathy,

I am not feeling settled in our home this holiday. Our daughter has been estranged from us for most of this year, and she is not coming home for Christmas. We just started working together in therapy, but there has been very little progress so far. Her rejection feels like an accusation, and that stings! It is hard to get the stinging to stop.

Others I love will be here with me—my husband, our older daughter, and my sister’s family. But the hole in my heart is making it hard for me to feel joy, to prepare with my usual pleasure, and to be open to the people who love me.

How can I find a different location—a different emotional location—to approach these holidays? I love our daughter and miss her, but I don’t want her estrangement to overshadow our family time.

Sincerely,

Wishing to Not Be So Distracted

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Dear Wishing,

Your challenges are deeply felt in the estrangement community at the holidays. You want to love those who have gathered, but you are distracted by the one who hasn’t.

You know better than to give the absentee so much power, but your heart isn’t logical. You are stinging, and no amount of emotional calamine lotion seems to help!

When we hurt, our minds tend to rant. We get stuck, we lose sleep, and we replay the rejection over and over. This invokes a feeling of dislocation. We feel something in our home is awry because the people who “belong” there are missing.

So, how do we begin to find that “different emotional location” you asked for?

Why Do You Feel Like This?

There are many reasons you can’t settle. The heart in the drawing is standing in the middle of a map, trying to navigate, but feeling disoriented.

First, there is the disruption of your expectations. In your mind’s eye, you pictured your adult children returning home for the holidays. You looked forward to the traditions you had enjoyed together when they were growing up. Your daughter is choosing to opt out of this picture, forcing you to experience a version of the holiday you never imagined.

Second, there is the disruption you feel at the level of the body. When your daughter was a baby, your bodies were extremely close. Even as she grew and became independent, you felt her closeness kinesthetically. Her absence can feel like a phantom limb—a missing part of your own body or heart.

Research tells us this ache is real. As the science writer Florence Williams notes in her book Heartbreak:

“Heartbreak is not just a metaphor. It is a physical state. To the brain, the pain of rejection activates the same regions as physical pain.”

It’s no wonder that your daughter’s absence hurts so much.

Let yourself feel, “This really hurts,” then begin to find a way to center yourself in the “now.” Yes, your pain is valid and real, but there may be a way to hold that truth while still showing up for the present.

The “Good Enough” Home

If I quote Stephen Stills again, it will be the third time in the history of this column (and this is only the 17th column). Nonetheless, I feel the urge to remind you that his line “Love the one(s) you’re with” still applies.

Your estranged daughter feels she will have a better holiday elsewhere. You mourn that, and you regret the slow pace of your family therapy. But you cannot fast-forward the work.

For now, I suggest you look for a “good enough” home. As the psychotherapist Robert Stolorow suggests:

“We cannot always create a perfect home, but we can create a ‘good enough’ holding environment for our feelings. A place where grief can sit in the corner and joy can sit by the fire, and both are allowed.”

For you, this means accepting the imperfection of the holiday from the vantage point of your wishes, and embracing the holiday that is possible this year.

Finding the Map to Here

You are looking for your emotional home. One location for this home is your body—it is where you live and where you spend your days. Settling your body will help you feel more grounded and at “home” this holiday.

Racing thoughts and “stinging” emotions obscure the map to that home. To find it, you must slow down.

• Locate Your Map: What helps you decelerate your racing, circling thoughts? Is it walking the dog? Listening to a meditation app? Venting to a friend? Planning activities with the companions you do have? Find what works for you, and give yourself the contact and support you need.

• Read the Coordinates: Your breath is your method to locate center. When you feel the sting of absence or the ache of sadness, acknowledge it, but then return to your breath. Steady, slowed breathing will signal your body to decelerate, and remind you that this is not an emergency. Tell your loved ones to feel free to remind you to slow down if you start to rev up.

• Arrive: Remind yourself: I am here. I am safe. I am with loved ones. It is okay to hope for change, but know that the “now” is also good. I can grieve, and then I can be in the present moment. (I know it’s a little corny, but when we quote Baba Ram Das telling us to “Be Here Now,” we have to realize he may have been on to something!)

Take Moments to Miss Your Child

I describe these goals as if they are easy—I know they are not. You may calm yourself, only to have something trigger you. It might be a specific song, or the stuffing recipe she loved best.

Do not assume you won’t miss her.

Acknowledge her, miss her, and then consciously use your map to come back. Granting your child the space she needs is your challenge; granting yourself the peace you need is your gift to yourself and those who have gathered with you.

Widening the Circle

Finally, remind yourself of past holidays. You may be missing those you have loved and lost, such as your own parents and grandparents.

Savor your memories. If you have the desire, bake your mother’s cookies or set out your grandfather’s crèche. Bring to mind the generations that built the foundation of your home.

So, Dear Wishing,

Holidays are a balancing act between the past and the present. Your contact with yourself is key to holding your center and finding your way.

Pema Chödrön wrote in The Wisdom of No Escape:

“Maitri [loving-kindness] is the act of making friends with yourself. It is the basis of a good home. If you can’t be at home with yourself, you will never be at home anywhere else.”

Tell yourself: I need to remember my home is inside me and that home is good enough.

Consider this equation:

Fighting Loss = Guilt + Pain

Sharing Love = A Path toward Peace

Best,

Kathy

Please write to me in the Comments section or email me at ksinsheimermft@gmail.com.

This is column #17.