I hadn’t thought much about the idea of softness until I recently saw a video from a popular psychologist and parenting expert. The video was about supporting kids through a difficult moment and summed up the idea by saying, it’s not soft, it’s effective. I completely understand why someone might include that information or perhaps use it to defend an approach that prioritizes empathy and connection. But it still made me stop and think, what is wrong with soft?
Softness evokes comfort, gentleness, a place you can curl up and rest, nurturing. It is an accepting hug instead of a harsh word when something has gone wrong. It allows space for curling up on the couch instead of pushing further. It quietly goes against the do more, be more that ever present productivity culture pushes on us.
There are many times when I hesitate at condoning rest, acceptance, gentleness. I have often worried that I need to push myself or others to get where I think we should be. Maybe soft is a word with too much baggage, spoiled with taunting, you’re too soft, toughen up. The idea of softness can imply being squished and stepped on, run over by kids who are out of control because the parents aren’t hard enough. But I still think it’s worth considering what can happen when we choose softness over hardening.
Politicians, athletes, leaders are lauded for how tough they are, the hard lines they draw, the way they don’t give an inch and push past their comfort zone. I wonder what it would be like to ask migrants at the border what they need and what we could do to help, instead of forcing them away and portraying them as nefarious infiltrators. I wonder what would have happened following the October 7 attacks if Israel recognized that Hamas’s actions might indicate that something is deeply wrong. Maybe a softer approach would take the time to figure out what each group really needed rather than choosing the violence that has resulted in unimaginable death and destruction.
Instead of building a solid wall around sadness, anger, or fear, and hardening to world, softness allows us to bring feeling out into the open. We have this idea that people who don’t cry are tough and strong, but being open to the things that make you cry every day requires softening enough to feel and still keep going. It doesn’t mean you aren’t moving on or getting over the things that bring you to tears, it means you are feeling it.
Trust, also, requires the ability to soften. Letting go of the need to for control and waiting until you are ready or the situation evolves can feel scary. But instead of pushing and forcing, trust is letting an idea simmer instead of jumping up to get started, leaving the mess until you have the energy and motivation to take care of it, giving a child space and time to find their way in their own time.
Perhaps my discussion of softness ends here because the word soft doesn’t encapsulate how HARD it is to choose the path of supporting, accepting, loving, appreciating the people and things in our lives when sometimes we just want to clench our fists, grit our teeth and make the way we want it to be. I’ve done a lot of forcing and I know that it does not usually work better. Softening is a process of letting go of all the things I want to make happen and being open to what can be. It does not always yield easy solutions, but it can be effective.
Warmly,
Anna
There is so much to unpack here. You've hit on such a core issue. This is so pervasive in our lives, from small things (feeling guilty about sleeping in) to big global issues (a world almost always at war). From our societies obsession with superstar sports and extreme activities, to just trying to look busy when the boss walks in the room. The phrase that bothers me the most? When people say "I'll sleep when in dead", usually in relation to justifying some overextension of themselves. I do not find that a badge of honor. Your article is a wonderful examination on softness, care and gentleness. A great read over a quiet cup of coffee.