A few days ago, I introduced the topic of authenticity in the Empathy Space for Nonviolent Communication a space I've been holding since the start of the pandemic lockdown on Zoom—initially daily, and now three times a week.
I encouraged everyone to reflect on what authenticity means to them. How genuine are we in our interactions with others and with ourselves? In our modes of communication? What does authenticity truly entail?
I recounted how on that same day, I treated myself to a new pair of sneakers. My son, home on leave from the army, also needed shoes. With the recent reopening of stores, we decided to shop together. Before we set out, he remarked, "Mom, you go ahead, I'll grab a Sabih first, because, you know—I know you: you need more time to decide, and the salesperson will offer you all sorts of things, and you'll get confused, and it will take time. I know what I want."
His comment transported me back to when my twins were just a year and three months old, taking their initial steps. I took them to a store on Allenby Street in Tel Aviv that specialized in "First Step" shoes, and we began browsing. It quickly became apparent that I was getting flustered, and there was no way we would be leaving anytime soon. Finally, I asked them, "What do you want?" Tom pointed to a mustard-colored pair, and Jasmine to a red one. They tried them on, beamed, and were delighted!
It astounded me and filled me with joy that they already knew what they wanted, unlike their mother!
What do I attribute this to? I have no doubt in my heart that it stems from how I raised them. From the moment they were born, I allowed them to nurse as per their needs, responded to their cries, and comforted them when necessary. And if I couldn't (because they are twins, after all), I ensured someone was there to pick them up if they cried. I ensured their needs for touch, closeness, and connection were met.
This is how they learned to trust their instincts, the signals their bodies gave them—that it was time to nurse, that they needed touch. They learned to articulate their needs, to trust themselves—to learn authenticity, confidence. I raised two individuals who know what they want, eat when they're hungry, stop when they're full, and can decide in seconds which shoe fits them and whether it's comfortable.
All these are profoundly meaningful in our interactions with others.This is a “skill” that isn’t as easy to acquire in later years.
Unlike me, striving to connect inwardly and figure out and trust what's right for me!
At the end ... I walked out with a shoe that was a tad too big. Big sigh..
Thoughts? I'd love to hear them.
