The Switch

Man's greatness lies in his power of thought.
- Blaise Pascal -

This was the quote for this week's Weekend Engagement. Two questions peaked my interest, one is about the most radical thought, but I usually publish my more radical thoughts frequently. So, in spirit of the quote from Pascal, I went for what surprises me most about myself.

Background

When I came to Ecuador, things were overwhelming for me. I was too empathetic to see how humans treated each other, the environment, and animals. On top of that, I just finished studying environmental sciences, was very active in left scene in Germany and a vegan. Not a good combination.

It hurt. A lot. And it took me a very, very long time to find ways to deal with what I was seeing every day. I didn't do well with that, did a lot of things I now consider bad in order to somehow release that frustration that was building. Now, I see it as understandable, but not excusable.

A boxing sack is a great thing to get that steam out. And to practice Taekwondo.

The Switch

The other day I was sitting on the floor next to Lily. She had spent the weekend with her mom, and due to some unilateral decisions the goodbye had gone very badly. Lily was crying, shouting, hitting herself saying "Bad Lily" over and over again. Not dangerously, luckily. It was brutal, it is now when thinking of it, but it wasn't to me back then. At one point, I had flipped the switch. I had turned off my emotions, and let my mind take over.

"What is the best I can do for her now?"

That was in my mind. Scenarios running wild, memory being trawled for information about this situation, experiences from others that they had told me.

"What is the possible long-term outcome if I do this? Or that?"

I had to set limits. She was so angry, she started to destroy things. I had to put my foot down, put on the angry face myself and shout at her. Give her other solutions. She has a boxing sack, but she wouldn't channel the energy. She couldn't. The feeling of seemingly being abandoned was too much for her.

I got her to brush her teeth. To put on her pajama, helping her, at the same time warning her when she was to cross limits again, carrying her, pulling her up when she was falling back into the hole; mostly, I was balancing her. I read more books to her than usually, while she was still sniffing. She had stopped hitting her chest eventually, and had made herself very, very small her face against my chest, curled up, a fetus at my belly. I told her how much I loved her. Many times. She fell asleep eventually, and I lied there for much longer than usually, just to be sure.

Not gone.

I went to my room and started hitting the cushions myself. Crying silently. The switch was back on, and the pain was overwhelming me. It's not re-routing of emotions, it's a dam keeping it in check until I can be flooded.

Daily switches

Ellie always asked me why I could be so cold towards street dogs, because I don't pet each one of them and overflow them with affection (thing that she does). I told her that I can't. Besides the whole mountain of ethics behind Speciesism, it's just easier to keep that switch flipped. I do enjoy the company of street dogs, and we will eventually adopt one once we move to a house that permits that. Or two. Or more, we'll see. The switches do help cope with my empathy. It took me a long time to get to this point, but I think this ability makes me a better human, as I'm not as reactive nor impulsive. It keeps my emotions in check, with out denying them completely.

It's in my head.

Pascal is right. My mind can do the most amazing things for me. It's surprising how effective that switch is. I hope Lily finds hers. She has the instruments, but she doesn't know how to use them, yet. I'm not sure how to teach her, as I never learned them actively, it just started happening. A coping mechanism, I guess, a good one. I'll keep it.


I want to adopt a pig, too. Or a cow. Rescue them. My dream is to buy a piece of land, turn it into a forest and have rescued animals live a couple of good years before nature calls.



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One of my sons has a calm and kind character, I don't remember him ever having a tantrum. And the second son, at the age of 5-6, didn't understand the word "no", that I wouldn't buy him a toy or something else and would become aggressive, throw the tablet on the floor and it would break, etc.

Now, at 10 years old, he is a smart boy, the best in the class in terms of academic performance, he has exemplary behavior. And we solve all our problems with him without shouting and unnecessary emotions. He almost always gets everything he has planned, but he goes to it calmly and often a long way.

In my opinion, you did the right thing by telling your daughter how much you love her. When she gets older, she won't react so strongly to such cases.

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Thank you for sharing that experience! It's my first and last rodeo, so I try to listen as much as I can to other people's experiences and derive conclusions out of that. I think she'll be just fine later, too. It takes time to learn those things.

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That's interesting - you'd never told me that things were that difficult for you when you first moved to Ecuador. This also better explains our very different responses to the street dogs.

The larger issue, though, is one I struggle with - as you know. How do deal with my thrice-accursed INFJ emotions? I've gotten better at putting on a Stoic face - but it only goes so far. There doesn't seem to really be any great way to deal with the damned things; repressing them doesn't work, they won't be ignored, and one can only get so much distance from them. If you do figure it out, let me know.

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You've gotten a lot better at channeling them over the last 6 years, that's for sure. I do believe that it's important to find an outlet as well, but that isn't easy. As I always say, I wish I had the answer for you. If I figure it out, you'll be the first to get a 10min voice message.

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