![]() |
Original Source:dezinteressante.com |
L
|
ast week, I did a
unit with my kids about “Fear of the Dark”
I related the story of a little girl in the martial arts who
used to be fearful of turning off the lights and going to sleep. Eventually, she
decided on her own that she had had enough. When it was time for bed, she
walked firmly into her room, did her push ups and sit ups, practised her
punches and kicks and then turned off the light and sat cross-legged on her
bed, waiting.
“I’m ready to fight,” she said to the dark, breathing slowly
and deeply, her fists at her side. After waiting for five minutes, she laughed and
stretched out on the bed.
“And don’t think I’m not going to fight you just because you
try to scare me when I’m asleep, coward.”
They appreciated that story. Then I followed with a little
of my own experience, how I tried to help adults who had panic attacks in the
early hours of the morning, afraid that they were drowning in the dark. Afterwards,
we moved on to regular training – martial arts – so we can learn to become
strong, look into people’s eyes, never give up…
But near the end of the class, I returned to the opening
theme. The kids scurried to the sides of the mats, ready to wrestle.
“The lights are going to be turned off,” I advised them. “So
anyone who is just a little concerned about the dark can stand by me and be my
helper.” (In one class, a child came up and held my hand. A minute later, she
joined the rest of the class because they were having too much fun).
We turned the lights off, and they had a grand old time
while I made sure that no one was going into hyper drive.
I asked them: “Are you afraid of the dark?”
“No!” they shouted back, insulted by the mere suggestion
that they would ever be.
![]() |
Source: hwarangdominneapolis.com |
Every 20 seconds or so, I’d turn the lights back on, just to
return to a calmer plane, and to make sure that the kids had enough safe space
between them.
“Are you afraid of the dark? Do you ever give up?” “No!
This call and response continued for a few minutes more
during which I also reminded them that fear is a part of life, and that they can
try, if they wish, to change the way they face fear. Sometimes it may take a
while, and they may need help. But I reminded them how strong they already were
and how asking for help can make you even stronger.
I’m not a big fan of the “sink or swim” school. I try to
nurture while along the way providing them with little challenges. We then
build on the successes from those challenges, nurturing some more. What would ridiculing
their fears prove, other than introducing them to the nightmares of daytime?
Unfortunately, they’ll find plenty of that soon enough in their lives.
Scene from Bergman's Persona
Soure: galleryhip.com
|
“It is not that there is my vigilance in the night; in insomnia
it is the night itself that watches”
- Emmanuel Levinas
Levinas describes
looking into the darkness of his childhood room and finding the “anonymous
rustling of existence”. On another note – and since we’re creeping
toward Halloween - the following films offer some potent examples of night
phobias, all by Ingmar Bergman…
The Hour of the Wolf – the night scenes wherein the artist
suffers from a type of insomnia; the haunting images of the puppet performance
to music from Mozart’s Magic Flute
Cries and Whispers – amazing night scenes where the
cries of the sick sear the early hours of the morning; the muffled helplessness
of bodies moving through the rooms to help
Persona–
the haunting scenes where the actress moves from room to room to the distant
sound of a foghorn
No comments:
Post a comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.