What Happened? Right and Left Brain Reactions

It was the kind of sound that makes your heart stop and your body move at lightening speed. I ran into my 4 year old daughter’s room.

She was holding Elizabelle, her pet rat. There was a lot of blood.

My mind was racing; I didn’t know what to do or what to say. “What happened?” As soon as I said it, it felt wrong. I couldn’t articulate why it was wrong, but I felt it. She was frantic, inconsolable. We were both so overwhelmed.

My left-brain needed an explanation; it was pushing me to find a way to understand how this had happened. That is what left brains do, they want to piece things together in some kind of an order, so we can make sense of things. My body knew there was no making sense of this, but my brain held out for some explanation.

Slowly she showed me what had happened. She had taken Elizabelle out of her cage and put her in her play kitchen. One slam of the door at the wrong time resulted in this awful scene. Helplessly, she watched a pet she loved, die. 

She could not understand the cause and effect of her actions; she couldn’t have known this could happen. She couldn’t express her feelings and experience in words; those words did not yet exist for her. Those body sensations had no names attached to them yet.

This happened years ago. Today, I understand why it felt so wrong when I let my left-brain lead my behavior. Instead of being an observer asking questions, my daughter needed connection. She needed me to be present and attuned. She needed me to be in the experience with her.

The intensity of her emotions was too much for her, she shut down. She didn’t speak for several hours, but she needed my presence. I could not be afraid to go with her into these emotions. I had to let her know I was there no matter what, and that I could handle any emotions she had.

In the days that followed, we wrote books about Elizabelle, drew pictures and wrote her letters. We had a wall covered in butcher paper that grew with images and words over time. We created an Elizabelle doll that was a stuffed rat and talked and played with her. We did all of this so she didn’t have to stay stuck. We created a coherent narrative that she could process, so she could integrate the experience and move on.

In my next post I’ll talk about what was actually going on neuro-biologically during this experience. The more we understand, the more we can engage responsively and authentically.