The Price of Connection

Author’s note: names, gender, age, and identifying information may have been changed to protect the privacy of any clients mentioned.

Christopher is a bright young man in his late 20’s. He constantly drops fantasy and film references into his speech, testing to see if I will catch him when he pivots from using Star Wars as a reference to ET with that sly grin creeping in at the corner of his mouth. Sessions with Christopher often feel like an invitation to verbally play a game of cat and mouse, and the only real stakes are me looking like I missed out on more time in front of a TV in my childhood. So, pretty high.

Behind the banter and the sly grins is a looming pattern: Christopher is trapped by perfectionism, people pleasing, and profound self-criticism.

Of course, that isn’t what led him into my office, instead we began with all the symptoms: migraines, anxiety, small panic attacks, lethargy, simmering depression, and burnout. Like many clients, we needed to be curious about the source of all of these day-to-day experiences before we could begin to attach more clear labels to them. What began as a cry for help with difficulty sleeping due to anxious thoughts eventually became a clearer picture: Christopher believed at his core that it was his job to perform, to put his needs last, to stifle his emotions for the sake of connection with others.

Feel like I am describing you? I certainly related to his story, and would think to myself at times: we should probably switch places… there are parts of my inner world that still need care here.

Each of us paid a price for connection — what was yours?

As children we are wired for connection. Our very survival depends on it. In their work Born for Love: Why Empathy is Essential and Endangered, authors Bruce Perry and Maia Szalavitz cite a study done on infant mortality. They found that when newborns are not held, when they are not met with eye contact and human interaction but are instead left to lie in a cradle until their next feeding, they die. The medical world calls it “failure to thrive.”

Because connection is so vital for our survival we will do whatever it takes to ensure that we get it. As children we begin to build our pattern without ever thinking about it. Daddy sees me and smiles when I do well in sports? Mom shuts down when I am too loud or too needy? The other kids notice my dirty shoes instead of my laugh?

There are so many ways that this plays out, but for Christopher it was simple: the family is barely staying together as it is, so don’t you dare add any extra pressure to it.

Play this out over time and migraines make a whole lot of sense.

Alice Miller, author of The Drama of the Gifted Child, puts it this way, “A child can experience her feelings only when there is somebody there who accepts her fully, understands her, and supports her. If that person is missing, if the child must risk losing the mother's love of her substitute in order to feel, then she will repress emotions.”

The journey back to experiencing a full range of emotions and a balanced sense of connection is there. But not until we are able to name what we have come to believe is the price of connection, grieve what was learned, and begin to practice curiosity for what our true self looks like.

The Bit and the Hackamore

“I feel stressed. I am responsible for everything, and I can barely stay focused or present in the room” a client recently told me, imagining the week that he was headed in to. For the sake of his privacy (and so my clients don’t get the idea that I cherry pick their stories to make teaching points – I absolutely do) I have removed this clients identifying information. The reality is, it could have been any one of them or any number of my friends. I’ve said that same phrase myself.

The idea here is that stress feels unavoidable, perhaps even responsible. There is so much that needs to be done: that project we are a part of at work isn’t moving along as fast as it was supposed to, we need to go grocery shopping and things don’t cost what they used to, the kids have soccer practice and school starting back up, my partner is fried from their week and we need to help alleviate their load… 

The world of stress management is a profitable business. Pray. Meditate. Exercise. Eat well. Sleep better. Think positive. Keep that blood pressure down. Nothing quite caused my blood pressure to go up like hearing that it was too high and I needed to “relax immediately or it will get worse.”

Here’s a question that I doubt you have thought of: how is stress serving you?

It’s a jarring question. One that I would guess most of us would initially shrug off with, “it’s not serving me, I’m trying to get rid of it.” But the deeper reality is that some part of us is choosing the heightened state of stress, consciously or unconsciously. 

At some point we learned that the only way to take care of ourselves is to be hyper aware of all the tasks we need to do. We need to anticipate the future to better handle it. We need to use the hot burning fuel of stress and performance to get everything done.

Being aware is one thing, keeping our engines running at 7,000 rpm in the name of responsibility is another.

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In the world of horsemanship, of which I am far from being an expert, it is common to use a bit to control a horse. The bit is the metal part that goes into a horse's mouth, sliding behind the teeth, which connects to the leather straps that run back over the head. These lines are then held and tugged to the right or left to turn the horse. 

If you have been around horses at all this is almost certainly the tool that was being used. The metal bit dates all the way back to somewhere around 1300 BC, but it isn’t the only way to control a horse. Illustrations dating back another hundred years indicate that bitless bridles were used first, for the first two thousand years of domesticated horsemanship, and are being used again.

One is called the Hackamore, and is a rope that fits around the nose of the horse, using knots to give pressure for the horse, rather than cold metal on warm tongue.

It’s a kinder way to guide the animal, but it also surrenders some immediate control. The Hackamore demands a higher level of connection between the horse and the rider. It requires time and skill. The more work that the rider has put into training the horse, to connecting with it through repetition and focus, the less pressure the rider needs with even the hackamore.

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If you are tracking with me you likely know where I am going: the metal bit is the fuel of stress, fear, and anticipation. It works. But it’s painful and damaging and sacrifices the slow work of connection for the quick outcome.

In this metaphor we are both the horse and the rider. One part of us has the reigns and feels responsible for our productivity and performance, the other part acts under the guidance. I am all for the support of prayer, movement, silence, sleep, nutrition, mindfulness, and counseling to mitigate stress. But if you asked yourself today, how is stress serving me? Have I been using a bit or a hackamore on myself? I wonder if you might find a kinder, more connected, pace.