The child and the tutor: A mental model for tangible emotional growth

Photo by Wilson X

In my last article about emotional growth, I stated an important belief of mine: with enough time and effort someone can achieve a level of emotional maturity that we associate with some of our respected spiritual leaders. Reflecting a little on that statement, I'm finding it to be a little short-sighted. If I had said "with enough time and effort, anyone can achieve a desired degree of physical maturity (e.g., fitness, dexterity, etc.)," I would've noticed my mistake immediately. Genetics play a limiting role in what we can achieve. Since emotions are (or at least seem to be) less tangible than the physical, however, it's easy to forget this as it relates to emotional growth. That said, we should not diminish our ideal because it's possible genetics won't allow us to reach it. It is important, however, that we accept the limits set by nature without anger or remorse.

Of course this is more easily said than done. We have been trained by our society to judge according to the standards of our society: this person is't thin enough, is too thin, is too gay, is too poor. The list continues. As we judge outwardly, however, we reinforce inflicting those same judgements inwardly. That is, the things that we judge others for are the things that we will inevitably judge ourselves for and vice-versa. Even worse, these judgements usually do little but propagate anger and depression where we desire happiness. Unfortunately, the specific judgements we make on a day to day basis are so engrained in our way of thinking that it's hard to remember that they aren't part of human nature. But they aren't and you only need to compare one culture's "should be's" to another to see that this is the case.

It's here that I want to introduce a mental model that helps me deal with emotions that I call the child and the tutor. A very young child has little knowledge about the world around them. Their behaviors are dictated by emotion. When a newborn is hungry, he/she is not likely to know what is wrong, just that something is wrong. The fact that something is wrong is conveyed to the outside world by crying. Conversely, "all is well" is conveyed by gurgles or laughter. It's a parent's job to figure out what the child is trying to express (even though the child probably couldn't say so themselves). Fortunately, a parent (i.e., the tutor) has a great body of knowledge to draw from and, if knowledge fails them, the old "hand the baby things until he stops crying" technique seems to do wonders.

As the child grows older they have basic language skills at their disposal but very little ability to reason. A child who is afraid of dogs probably won't be able to reason with themselves to figure out why they're afraid and understand that, in some instances, fear is an unreasonable response. So, a parent will step into the rationale role and ask the child why he/she's afraid, and help them to deal with that fear.

As we grow into adults, I believe that this emotional creature (i.e., the child) persists and we become our own tutors (occasionally drawing help from the outside world). However, since the child and tutor inhabit the same mind, the child can use a more direct means of communication. Instead of expressing an emotional response physically (e.g., by crying), the child only needs to convey that emotion. Some who tend to be more rationale will ignore the child completely because it's perceived to be irrational. However, the child can be an important tool for understanding the world around us, recognizing danger, etc. That said, we can continue to tutor the child just as our parents did before we were able to. Just as our parents did, we'll need to understand the child's emotional responses and, in some cases, retrain those emotional responses. The fear of dogs example can be applied here as well. If an adult is afraid of dogs, they can reason with the child based on the information they have at their disposal. They might also start forcing themselves to approach smaller unassuming dogs thus forcing the child to confront that fear.

The benefits of using this model is that we have a tangible way of dealing with our emotions. We come to understand that we can modify how we respond emotionally to stimuli just as our parents did with us when we were unable to reason for ourselves. I believe this model also helps us to see the importance of acceptance. Rejecting our childs' responses is similar to ignoring a crying baby simply because you don't want to be bothered. In some instances, ignoring a crying baby is the best action to take for the sake of the child. However, before taking this action, a caring parent (i.e., one who cares about the baby's emotional development above all else) would want to first search for the root cause of the baby's response and actively decide that ignoring it is the best approach.

My next article will defend this model a bit more through example as well as show how we can use this model to pursue emotional growth. In the meantime, I welcome and encourage thoughts and critiques. Thank you all for reading and see you soon.

A journey into emotional growth

In my pursuit of (atheistic) spiritual enlightenment I have uncovered a myriad previously hidden paths that beg travel. One of those paths is emotional growth. That is, through my writing and thoughts that have not yet been shared, I have come to the conclusion that spiritual enlightenment requires emotional growth. At the beginning of this journey I was wary of emotions we typically classify as negative: anger, depression, sadness, etc. I suspected that an emotionally mature person would most often be happy regardless of the problems they face. However, I have come to see that there's a place for all emotions. I thank my friends for helping me to understand that. Unfortunately, I now find myself without a definition of emotional maturity. If it's not someone who's always happy, what is it.

I'm going to take another approach this time. Instead of just coming up with a definition, let me name a few people who I suspect are emotionally mature and then figure out what it is about them that makes them so. Some people who come to mind: Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Dr. Martin Luther King. While I wish I knew these individuals enough to know how they thought and how they experience emotion, I can only guess. Here are my best guesses based on their actions (those that I have knowledge of):

• They each had the ability to care deeply about people - even people they knew little about.
• Each responded emotionally - with anger, sadness, etc. - to evil acts they witnessed and they were able to harness these emotions to move themselves and others to action.
• Each was able to overcome their fear of confronting evil. The old adage "ignorance is bliss" is frightfully accurate. It takes courage to face truth and one must overcome their fears in order to do so.
• Each was able to put personal needs and emotions aside in the interest of what they considered to be the greater good. Or, perhaps happiness for them was a product of others' happiness.

Before I proceed, let me restate an important axiom of many of my conclusions about growth (intellectual, emotional, etc.). If a person desires to reach a certain level of aptitude, they only need to study and practice sufficiently in order to do so. Some people are born with natural talents (be they musical, emotional or otherwise). These people can reach the same level a less talented person can reach with less effort. Also, energy spent earlier on will be more fruitful than energy spent later. Kids have fewer beliefs to reconcile with new ones they come across.

Assuming this axiom holds true (and I believe it does), we are all capable of achieving the level of emotional maturity that we associate with the people I referenced above. The questions at this point are how and why? More thoughts on that soon. Looking forward to your feedback.