Many of us who were parent-children, endured far too many responsibilities in our early years.

We had children to take care of, even though we were just kids ourselves. There was scarcely any time for us to play; we were constantly interrupted by other people’s needs, especially when we had younger siblings to look after, or a home to manage.

 

Our own needs took second place. We became martyrs, because our own developmental needs were not met; we simply got on with the task in hand, because we weren’t heard anyway…and then we grew up.

 

But we carried our hard-wiring conditioning, into adulthood. We’ll still drop everything to help others’- with little conscious awareness of our own, often pressing needs. We do so because we don’t know differently, and because we know what unmet needs feel like.

 

We parent-children care deeply about other people’s feelings, less so our own. So, when we get interrupted, we morph back into the capable child we’ve always been.  We’re stuck in a retro-pattern that we deserve help in changing, because daily interruptions form a normal part of everyday living. The problem is, for people like us: we find it hard to re-focus when someone, or something interrupts our flow.

 

If this resonates with you, then perhaps my method could be helpful. I’m midst practicing it myself, and recognise that whilst I am an adult; I’m also still the six-year-old, that circumstances forgot.

 

Therefore, I have to appeal to the child-Emma in order to bring about change. And whilst I still find it difficult to field pleasant interruptions; I have found a way to get back on track with the many other distractors in a given day: –

 

Scenario: I’m midst writing and I receive an unexpected delivery or phone call. It used to make getting back to the document challenging. Perhaps, I’d start loading the washing machine instead, because I’d think, “well it’s only for me, so I’ll continue on another time”.

 

I over-looked that writing gives me pleasure.

 

I’m learning to be mindful that I am no longer answerable to an adult. I remember, and accept that I’m still a kid at heart, so I behave like one too. This is what I do to get me back on track:

 

I liken the interruption to climbing up to a slide; I know the joy of the ride only lasts for moments. I see the time talking to the delivery driver, or sales person, as being like another child joining me on the stairs up towards the slide. I recall the pleasant whooshing sensation, going down the slide, because as a child, the playground gave me a rare opportunity to be true to my young age.

 

When the interruption has been dealt with, I pretend I’m at the foot of the ride: satisfied and smiling. Next, I put on a tune which makes me feel dynamic, and invincible- like all children feel, when they’re allowed, albeit briefly to be a child. I choose something that evokes a feeling of control: We are the champions – by Queen is a go-to favourite.

 

Once I’ve spent five minutes accepting and singing along to my interruption, I find that I’m reenergised, because I’ve recategorized it: naming it as a pleasant mini-break, as opposed to the weighty unhelpful feeling of an interruption.

 

I now make an assertive effort of managing my interruptions in this manner. It’s about modifying and tweaking our mindset, and remembering that our wonderful human brain is more powerful than our wayward emotions.

 

I hope you find this helpful.

 

With SUNNY wishes, Emma x