Several weeks ago, I took my 5-year-old daughter to see the musical, Mary Poppins, at Chattanooga Christian School. This was by far the best high school musical I have ever seen. The costumes, design, set, dancing, acting, and singing was phenomenal. My daughter loved the show and for days after we both had the music in our hearts and we kept singing, “Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down…”
It has been many years since I have seen Mary Poppins and I had forgotten how the father in the play, George Banks, is a responsible banker, father, and husband who has high expectations towards himself and others. In the play, I experienced a man who insisted his wife and children behave. George’s serious nature and pursuit of perfection can be seen in this exchange with Mr. Banks and his wife:
Mr. Banks: I suggest you have this piano repaired. When I sit down to an instrument, I like to have it in tune.
Mrs. Banks: But, George, you don’t play.
Mr. Banks: Madam, that is entirely beside the point!
Throughout the play, we see Mary Poppins help George learn to soften and become a more present and loving husband and father. As I watched the play, I was aware of the ways I can be like George Banks. I too can struggle with being perfectionistic, serious, and overly responsible. Mary Poppins dancing, singing, and playfulness are the antidote both George Banks and I need.
When I read books or watch a theatre show, I am starting to practice curiosity about how I am like the prominent characters in the story. I like to think of this as noticing my parts. When you experience an internal conflict, you probably can identify your many parts. For example, one part of me (an adventurous life-long learner) may want to take an expensive continuing education course, while another part of me (a scarcity part) takes an opposing position, arguing that I can’t afford this class during uncertain economic times, while yet another part of me (my inner critic) may point out that I might not be successful at learning the material for the course. In this internal dialogue, I will inevitably feel unsure of myself. This may bring up another part of me that wants to withdraw from a decision. I am learning that all these parts of me need my attention and care.
The children’s movie, Inside Out, is about a pre-teen girl managing the emotions of Joy, Fear, Anger, Disgust and Sadness residing inside of her. In a similar way, our parts function like a large diverse family inside of us.
Each part of us has both a shadow side and a gift. For example, whenever I read the children’s book, The Giving Tree, to my daughter I think about the high and low side of the character of the tree that excessively gives to the boy. This tree’s generous nature takes her from a flourishing apple tree to a stump. On the one hand, this tree is very kind, but on the other hand the tree is self-sacrificing at the expense of its own self. Like the tree in this book, I too can be a compassionate and selfless force in the world, but this same part of me also struggles with receiving help.
Certain parts of you might take a strong position in your psyche based on your life experiences and the messages from the world around you. Over the years, some parts are rewarded by your family or the culture at large. As these parts of you are consistently reinforced, they become stronger and sometimes they even become a mask you wear, which can be described as your personality.
For many years, I became too invested in being a giving type. It is important to be kind to yourself as you notice your varied parts. Every part has a redeeming aspect and some of these parts may have even helped you to survive during traumatic times in life. These parts can also help you to be responsible, charming, and successful.
If you start to notice your parts, you will start to become more conscious of how they are both your achilles heel and your strength. As you befriend these parts, you move from living unconsciously or automatically, to living consciously. Once you begin noticing your parts you will start to lovingly dance with them.
Because of yoga’s embodied movement and breathing, this introspective practice helps me to notice my parts. For example, I notice the helper in me even before I leave for my yoga class. My helper part is also a manager inside of me that wonders if it might be a more productive use of my time to give my time and energy to someone else. This manager also wonders if I have the time to go to the yoga class. My helper part is also the part of me that struggles with self-worth, self-care, and receiving. And so, every time I go to my mat to take a class, I am talking back this part of me and lovingly whispering to it that I am worthy of this care. As I start to gently talk back to my helper part, I help it to soften and remind it that it doesn’t have to keep working so hard.
When I take a yoga class, I notice my perfectionism, a competitive part of me, a part of me that doesn’t want to do hard things, an insecure part, a serious inner critic that needs to lighten up, a part of me that is sometimes scared of silence, and an intense part of me that needs to soften. If I take a class from a yoga teacher who corrects me in a pose, I also observe a part of me that can be defensive. And when I teach yoga, I see the part of me that struggles with allowing myself to find rest and ease, because when I teach, I rarely leave enough time for a proper Savasana.
I live walking distance from Good Shepherd Episcopal Church, and I have been blessed to hear many incredible homilies preached by their current associate priest, Rev. Michelle Simmons. In one of her recent sermons, she invited us to practice Imaginative Prayer, an Ignatius spiritual discipline that encourages participants to identify with a participant in the Biblical story. She was preaching on the parable of the Prodigal Son, and those listening to the message were encouraged to think about whether we identified with the prodigal son, the responsible older son, or the father with arms wide open. This spiritual disciple is an important one because it is another opportunity to notice the different parts of ourselves. For example, at my best I can offer the unconditional love and forgiveness of the father in the story, but in other moments I have can over function and be too serious, resentful, and responsible, like the elder son.
Sometimes if you are too fluent in one part, you might start to abandon other necessary parts. For example, if you are too much of a people-pleaser and avoid conflict, you might abandon the ability to be assertive.
As you start to examine your many parts, always treat yourself with kindness and grace. Are there parts of yourself you are over-utilizing or under-using? As you examine your parts you might use yoga or imaginative prayer. But sometimes it is helpful to see a therapist or coach who utilizes the Enneagram or Internal Family Systems Theory to do this introspective work. As you start to get to know your many parts, you might even observe these parts as you read sacred Scripture, a children’s book, or watch a musical. As you befriend and accept your varied parts, it also becomes easier to accept and extend grace to a loved one’s diverse parts.
A version of this article was originally published in the Lookout Mountain Mirror.
