Why We Don't Do the Right Thing
A few years ago I had my arthritic right hip replaced, and within days of the surgery, I began a program of physical rehabilitation designed to build up the muscles around the hip joint.
Of necessity, this therapy is repetitive and painful. At one point the therapist pointed out that I was doing an exercise differently from what he had prescribed. I smiled and said, “I was cheating to avoid the pain.”
We all tend to avoid pain, usually unconsciously, but when we cheat the pain we often deprive ourselves of learning and growth. In any given moment pain is a strong motivator, but the very things that reduce our pain often lead to more pain in the long term.
With our children we often make choices like I did with my leg. Instead of doing what is best for our children and ourselves, we take an easier route and cause serious long-term damage.
Doing the Right Thing for a Child Even When It is Hard
I know a mother, Eileen, who has an adult son, Morris. He works harder than anybody I know to avoid work: excuses, excuses, lying, more lying, staying in homeless shelters, standing in line at soup kitchens, begging on the streets, and so on.
His favorite trick is to wait until his mother is away from home, then ask for help from his father, who will give him almost anything he asks for: food, money, a place to stay that night, and more.
One day she described to me how she got home after a long day—anticipating some rest and relaxation—and found Morris there, eating, watching a movie, and clearly in no hurry to leave.
“I’m just sick of this,” she said. “I’m tired of constantly being the one who has to teach him, and then I have my own husband undermining me by letting this adult child behave like he was four years old.”
“Oh, they’re both just cheating,” I said. I told her about my experience with physical therapy and said, “We all tend to avoid pain. We feel better for a moment—very seductive—but then we ALWAYS find ourselves off the path we really want to be on.
"If you really want to make a difference here, you would have to keep being loving—the real solution to their pain—and telling Morris that he can’t keep coming over whenever he wants something. He has to talk to you first before he enters YOUR home. If he appears without permission, you require him to leave.”
“I do get tired of doing this alone,” Eileen said. "I get tired of doing the hard stuff—holding the line, for example, only to have Tom (her husband) pull the rug out from under me by letting Morris do whatever he wants, especially stuff that Tom and I AGREED he COULDN’T do.”
“I really understand,” I said. “In any given moment they’re both just doing whatever it takes to minimize their pain. You have to tell Tom that you will not allow it, and you don’t have to allow that to go on in YOUR home. You live there, so you have veto power over who comes there and what happens.”
“What if he doesn’t change?” she asked.
“He might not, but you’ll never know whether that’s possible until you become more loving and more consistent in establishing what you will allow. Doing the right thing does not mean that other people will always like it, but YOU will like it. You will gain some sense of worth. Keep going, kid.”
