I’m certain I’m not the only guy out there who finds myself reacting to others and to situations in ways that are, well, suboptimal.
So, when a friend told me about his attempt to go from “reactivity” to being a “non-anxious presence,” I paid attention. Citing rabbi and “Failure of Nerve” author Edwin Friedman, he defined the reactive man as one stuck in a “vicious cycle of intense reactions of each member (of a family) to events and to one another,” which renders the family “chronically anxious.”
It’s no wonder our families get like this. Life keeps coming at you. Suddenly your lance-like tongue fires back at your wife or children. Your unresolved issues surface. You punish others with your silence or stoic distancing. Your “bitter word, impatient gesture, or stern face,” as St. Francois de Laval wrote, “destroy in an instant what has taken so long to achieve.”
As Friedman explains, “The most damaging effect of intense reactivity in any family is on its capacity to produce or support a leader.” He notes that reactivity “eventually makes chronically anxious families leaderless.”
“Leaderless.” That’s a damning indictment of the family in which the man chooses not to address the deeper sources of his reactivity. Maybe summer — before the fall schedule ramps up — is a good time for us guys to work intentionally on our reactivity.
But let’s first review three common yet mistaken strategies for dealing with reactivity. First, there’s garden-variety “denial.” We’ve all been there. Here, we “pack it down” in an effort to convince ourselves that our reactivity issues simply do not exist.
Second, there’s the full-blown “white-knuckle” program. Here, we acknowledge that something is wrong and needs to change. So, we put our will into overdrive for a while and, like a New Year’s gym membership that we abandon by February, we soon quit, discouraged, exhausted and still unhealed.
Third, there’s the “spiritualization” strategy (see “denial”). In this scenario, we try to “pray away” the problems we experience in the “natural” arena of our psyche, instead of trying to understand their source. As Ian Masson, LPC, director of the IPS Center at Divine Mercy University, explains, “This is akin to trying to pray a broken arm better. If we break our arm, we would pray for patience in suffering, for healing, and for the doctor who helps us. And we would also actually seek out a doctor to help us.
“Just so,” Masson concludes, “with problems in the psychological realm.”
While we reactive men fiddle with these strategies, Rome burns. Our reactivity is still there — deep within, just beneath the surface, or on full display. Wishing to remain outside the blast radius of our reactivity, our children commit more hours to online platforms that are proven to be more toxic than smoking. In our leaderless homes, our kids wander into hellscapes, including porn.
How our wives and children yearn instead for a husband and father who is what Friedman describes as a “non-anxious presence.” This man, explains Friedman, maintains “a modifying, non-anxious, and sometimes challenging (leadership) presence” and is “less likely to become lost in the anxious emotional processes swirling about.”
But the gift of this man’s presence will bless his family in ways far beyond what Friedman describes. That’s because as a follower of Christ, the Prince of Peace, this man is quietly committed not only to the exacting and lifelong work of his interior life of prayer, grounded in the sacraments, but also to understanding and healing the “natural” arena of his psyche: his wounds and unhealthy patterns.
Cheer and loving patience gradually supplant this man’s “vicious cycle of intense reactions” as he learns to respond rather than react. He sets and maintains proper boundaries (see the Third Commandment). He invests in friendships of candor and forthrightness where fraternal Christian correction is expected. His spouse and children observe a man who has “put away the childish things” (I Cor 13: 11) of denial, white-knuckling, and spiritualization, and who now lives a discipleship of ever-deepening freedom, intimacy, and integration. His low-reactivity home produces and supports leaders.
This man is not perfect, but he gets up quickly after each fall. That’s because he has found the pearl of great price. And in our chronically anxious and shallow age, he has set out into the deep to follow his Master, who says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled … Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you” (Jn 14:1, 27).
Johnson and his wife, Ever, are cofounders of trinityhousecommunity.org.
