Rather than repeating details of developmental stages (reading down the columns of the chart), this section will contain a life history of a fictional family. As they move from stage to stage, the major themes will be addressed as parts of the maturing process. In some ways this will be an "ideal" life, yet it will stay in line with resources and institutions that can be found in our society. This is best read as a narrative, rather than as a case study. It is to be enjoyed as much as it is to be learned from.
Harold and Paula Hamilton, after 4 years of marriage, began to discuss the idea of starting a family. He was 30; she was 28. He had a steady job as a carpenter; she worked part-time as a dental office receptionist. They realized that she would have to quit her job, which would cut down on their income just as their expenses were sure to go up. However, they were willing to do some sacrificing and dip into their savings if necessary. Most of all, they had a stable marriage which had already withstood some strains. They loved each other, and they loved their union. They also loved something larger than themselves, and although they were not members of any church or religion, they had friends (especially an older couple, John and Ruth Deters) who were interested in matters of spirit and ethics.
One night the Hamiltons were visiting the Deters. They had doubts about the examples their own parents had provided, and since they had always admired the Deters' family, they brought up the subject of having a child. They laid out their ideas and plans and asked the older couple if they thought anything was missing. "Indeed there is!" announced Ruth with a twinkle behind her intent gaze. "First of all, you forgot us!" Everyone laughed.
John picked up from there. "I know what Ruth means. You two have a great plan, and no doubt it would work. You would have a happy, healthy baby and a minimum of stress on yourselves. I know you two well enough that you would make sure of all that. But believe it or not, there's more to it than just happy baby/happy parents. There's something a lot more important going on in bringing a child into the world. Do you realize this child we're talking about is going to have a destiny, a sense of purpose? Now, you can do all sorts of things, even with good intentions, that can squash that sense of destiny. Or you can let it be the thing that guides everything you do from now on. For instance, coming to us wasn't just a social pleasantry. Deep down, you knew we had a role to play. So let's put our cards on the table and really look at the Hamilton's new baby!"
By the time the evening was over, Harold and Paula had reformulated their plans. Now they knew they had some very deliberate things to do and think about. They would be careful about what foods they ate, cutting out many of their favorite snacks and beverages. Paula would begin to exercise regularly and take vitamin supplements. They would maintain an even disposition toward each other and everyone else, not by repressed feelings, but by reminding themselves that they were bigger than anything the world could dish out. They would take time many evenings to talk about their feelings regarding childbearing and childrearing, making sure they understood each other and working out areas of anxiety or doubt. They met with the Deters once a week, alternating between their two houses. At these meetings, they would review the progress of the couple and bring up new issues, such as how they sensed their larger purpose as parents and community members, how they could sense and wait for the right time to conceive a child, how solid and stable they were, how to function as a team rather than as two mutually dependent young people, and how to keep their home safe, sweet, and secure. They ended each meeting with a few minutes of quiet sanctification.
About six months after their first meeting with the Deters, they learned that Paula was pregnant. Now the couple began to feel the stress of their decision and the huge responsibility they had taken on. Still, they maintained their sense of humor and graciousness. As friends and relatives heard the news, the Hamiltons had to discover charming and ingenious ways to keep away unnecessary visits and calls. Their home became a safe refuge, and Paula gratefully quit her job during her fifth month. Their obstetrician met with them regularly, and a few times the Deters came along. The doctor was impressed with the sense of teamwork of all these people, and he joined in, allowing them all to participate in the preparations.
Back at home, Harold and Paula spent many evenings at home, listening to music--classical, quiet jazz, and other favorites--and sometimes reading aloud. They talked to each other and worked on the nursery. They traded ideas for their child's name; they joked and hugged as best they could. They attended natural childbirth classes. And they finished each night as the Deters had taught them, with moments of quiet thankfulness.
Near daybreak on a memorable Monday, after 4 hours of labor, Paula gave birth to a son. Harold was with her as her coach; the Deters were in the next room, sitting quietly and patiently. They had narrowed down the list of names to three, and now looking at their son for the first time, they agreed that he should be named Philip.
The next week, the Deters gathered a handful of friends to honor the baby and the new family. Everyone got a chance to express appreciation for the couple and to "bestow" a quality of fine character upon the child. That day, Philip "received" Patience, Trustworthiness, Care, Courage, and Humor.
The next twelve months were busy and magical. The Hamiltons discovered routines that suited the rhythms of all three members, and this allowed them to be relaxed with all the changes. Philip crawled and teethed, toddled and babbled, just as any other child. But on close inspection, one would notice some differences.
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"She's so cute! I think babies are so adorable. And look. See how she wrinkles her brow? It's just like her father."
"Yes, but look at that nose. You can tell who her mother is! Who do you think she takes after the most?"
"Well, I have to agree with both of you. But do you know what? Sometimes she does things, or just looks at me a certain way, and I say to myself, 'That's not me or Bob. That's a unique person.' I know it sounds strange to say it at her age, but she really has a personality all her own. It's almost frightening!"
Philip, like his parents, had an assurance about him that was almost uncanny. He met the world head-on, exploring with gusto and glee. He imitated many of his parents gestures, yet he filled these gestures with his own spirit and enjoyment.
The toddler years were much the same. Although he had his expected phases of "separation anxiety" and saying "no" to things, he had an easy-going disposition. The parents were still meeting with the Deters regularly, and one night they brought up the idea of day care and preschool. All John would say was, "It all depends...."
But Ruth had more to say about it. "Right. It all depends on why you want Philip to be under someone else's care. Is it so you can get some relief or go shopping or get a job? Is it to get him intellectually stimulated so he can get to Harvard by the age of thirteen? Or is it so he can start to let his world expand into other people and other settings? Be honest now!"
Over two hours of conversation ensued, and the Hamiltons found themselves being more honest than they realized they had things to be honest about. Hidden feelings and motives began to come to the surface, and with the Deters' quiet presence, everything began to get sorted out. It wasn't the first time, nor the last, that this older couple would perform this service for these parents. At last, Harold announced, "I think we've got the picture now. Philip's own body language has been telling us he's been ready for a larger world, and we've interpreted his behavior as our own frustration. He definitely needs some outside contact, but now it will be for the right reasons. And no, we won't look for a "superchild" school. We're going to look for a "second home" for Philip, someplace with TLC and discipline and real energy." Paula agreed wholeheartedly.
So the Hamiltons became fussy shoppers, and finally found a playschool that met their stringent requirements. Like home, the school provided an atmosphere of safety and love, and plenty of opportunities for touching, moving, exploring, singing, and creating. Philip learned to follow his interests through in an activity, all the way to completion. He also learned to coordinate with other children under the focused but gentle eye of the teacher.
During these years, Harold Hamilton was becoming a carpenter in demand. Not only was he given plenty of work, due to his professional skill and personal integrity, but he was becoming recognized by other carpenters as a spokesman for quality work and fair trade. Harold sensed he had the support to start his own business, and after discussing the idea with Paula and the Deters, he began. However, he did not follow a normal business plan. Instead, he was willing to try something John and Ruth had suggested. Rather than trying to get a bank loan and workers, he just "romanced" the idea of a business for a while. Then he put out "feelers" in the trade community to see who thought it was a good idea and who might want to help in various ways. Within a month he had three promises for help with finances and equipment and six promises from fellow carpenters to come work for him. With this information, he was able to secure a bank loan within ten minutes--a loan that was only half what he originally would have needed. This thing called the "creative process" really worked!
By the time Philip was school age, it was agreed that he was resourceful and resilient enough to go to public school and not be overwhelmed. The week before school began, the Hamiltons had Philip's teacher-to-be over for dinner. After a few moments of awkwardness, Paula exclaimed, "Goodness, aren't we stiff! Really, we didn't invite you here to impress you or get you to give Philip more attention in the class. We just want to be friends. After all, you're going to see Philip almost as much as we will for the next nine months. We want you to know we support you--and trust you. OK?" The rest of the evening was so successful that it was repeated twice more during the school year, and several other parents followed suit. In fact, this little ceremony became one of Philip's favorite end-of-summer activities for the next five years.
So Philip attended the neighborhood school, and his parents became as active as possible in the parent-teacher organization. When it was discovered that he had difficulty reading, the Hamiltons met with the teacher and came up with a plan to let Philip work more with visual and tactile material, rather than forcing him to read. After four months, Philip became naturally attracted to the reading process and "caught up" with the class by the end of the year. More importantly, he liked to read, especially "because it was my idea, right?"
Philip loved math and sports during his elementary years. He was always ready to help another child in the classroom, and he was always a great team player in soccer and baseball (his favorites). He took risks and exhibited a love for doing daring things. He had several good friends, and he spent most afternoons with his pals in very active play. He went through his expected period of middle childhood anxiety, which for him took the form of sudden anger or sullenness. But his father took the matter squarely in hand, comforting his son when it was needed and being quite stern when Philip was not exhibiting self-control. Philip, although he wouldn't always say so, loved it. He was growing in assurance and authority.
He was also growing in observation. He could find things people lost, as if he had radar. He could "second guess" pitchers so he could steal bases. In soccer, he would notice the opposing forward's hips shift and know to which side of the field the ball would be passed. He could watch an incubator for an hour to see a chick hatch, while other children could only watch for a few minutes at a time. Yet in all these skills, he was never arrogant.
When he was eleven, Philip helped his parents host a party in honor of John Deter's retirement. About a dozen people attended, and each one gave a gift and a homemade card. Harold mounted the cards on a posterboard he had prepared, and the final product was a fitting tribute to a man who had made his career a shining example of "love in action." Harold gave the toast, but Philip wanted to add one, too. Addressing a formal gathering of adults for the first time, he looked around nervously, then focused quite seriously on John. "To a man who taught my father a lot of things, so he could teach me." The two gazed at each other for a few seconds before drinking, and in that moment Philip felt his own manhood stirring. He had found a significant friend.
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Probably close to daybreak, he thought. For some reason, he was wide awake. Crickets were chirping, and a few distant birds. There was the whir of an occasional car out on the highway, but he didn't pay much attention to that. No, there was something else, and before he knew it, he had pulled his lanky adolescent body out of bed.
Quietly, he made his way down the hall and out the back door. Walking to the end of the yard, he looked out at the silhouetted trees beyond. He looked ... and listened. And what had been a question, a confusion, a noise clamoring in him so long he thought it was part of him, began to subside. Now it was just him -- just him and the wind and the moon and trees. And in that moment of quiet and peace, a new sound came to him -- his sound, his destiny.
Suddenly, everything made sense, everything fit -- he fit. He felt at home in the universe. He didn't just think or hope or believe it. In this moment he knew. And that was enough. That was everything. He smiled, then turned back to the house.
Philip entered puberty without any great earthquakes. Of course, his father had prepared him well, and he knew that both his parents were open, honest people who would answer his questions or set him off on the right direction for answering them himself. In fact, that was something he came to really appreciate about his parents: they almost never told him that things had to be a certain way or that he had to be a certain way. But they wouldn't let him get away with "fuzzy" thinking, either. They expected him to articulate what he meant without excuse or rationalization. And they expected him to really listen and understand and not just pretend to know what was going on. And although these expectations caused him some embarrassment at times, he was thankful for the training.
He spent more and more time with John Deters, and sometimes with Ruth. They did simple things together, like repair appliances or rake leaves or shop for little things. Sometimes they talked, for hours and hours. Sometimes a whole afternoon would go by in complete silence. Once Philip asked his parents if they were jealous of the Deters. "Of course not," replied his mother. "John and Ruth are our dear friends. We love them, and we trust them." She paused, as if she were reading his mind. "And they don't tell us a thing about what goes on between you." Philip smiled, relieved and proud.
In the next few years, Philip saw the Deters less frequently, and his parents less frequently as well. He got involved in the school soccer team and track team, and he had a lot of friends to be with when he wasn't deluged with homework. He seemed to avoid his mother especially, and didn't want her to come to his games or into his room. Sometimes he felt justified, thinking how fussy or intrusive she was; sometimes he felt guilty about it. He alternated between happy and assured and sullen and confused. He would talk to his friends about it, and they helped each other as best they could. But just a three minute chat with John Deters (who would just happen to walk by the practice field) would seem to heal something no friend or parent could touch. Then he would feel OK for several days. He wondered about that, after a few instances. Why did John show up at just those moments of personal crisis, not demanding a lot of time, but just "touching in" as he called it? How did he know when to come on the scene, and how did he manage to calm everything down without ever talking about anything in particular? Even though he still didn't make special efforts to visit the Deters, he knew he still had a friend--in fact, two friends.
By now Harold's business was quite successful, running itself most of the time. Harold had discovered how to work "smart" instead of hard, and he had plenty of time for family matters and for exploring other avenues of activity. He turned down the idea of running for a town office, and he rejected the idea of going back to school to get a college degree. Instead, he and Paula spent more time with the Deters and other friends, discussing matters of spirit as they related to current issues of family and community. They also discussed the possibilities of many projects: a new school playground to be constructed by the families themselves; fundraising for various civic organizations; neighborhood and town social events, such as picnics and fairs; and Harold's favorite topic, building an addition to the Deters' home so they could host guests and "students" more graciously. All these plans went through many changes. Some seemed to go nowhere, and others were altered beyond recognition. But no matter what happened, the Hamiltons remembered what they had learned of the creative process. It worked for their business, it worked for their marriage, and it was constantly working with their son. So they made sure it would work with these plans. They would never "marry" an idea to the point that they couldn't let it go. They were always willing to let it become whatever it could be, considering the response of those around. No pushing of ideas was necessary; it all worked out fine in the end, even if it wasn't what was anticipated. Needless to say, John Deters was very pleased with his younger friends.
In the summer before his senior year of high school, Philip got to help his father build the addition to the Deters' home. He had worked for his father occasionally during other summers, but this time his heart was really in it, and his father was paying him as much as any of the other workers--nothing. It was all being done out of love for the Deters, and this pleased Philip's sense of justice. He had somehow made peace with Paula, who turned out to be not such a smothering or demanding mother after all. (He finally realized he had been fighting himself and his image of her, not the woman herself.) The world seemed to be going well for him. He had friends, supportive family and friends, sharp mental and verbal skills, and above all, confidence.
During the summer, Philip learned some new things about himself. Although he had always known his father to be an expert craftsman, standing in a hot sun on a rooftop he found himself doing things differently from normal procedure. And he found himself calmly telling his father why he had done things the way he had. Sometimes they argued, and Philip thought it was because his father was trying to throw his weight around or cover his pride rather than learn something new from his son. Actually, his father was a bit of a construction engineer, and he knew why proper carpentry procedures would create a sound structure. So he demanded things to be done a certain way. He respected his son, and told him so, but he still made the boy re-do the work.
One day Philip came up with a new way to divide up the work for the day. This time Harold stopped and looked at his son. "OK, let's try it your way. This can't hurt the structure of the building. The worst it can do is gum up the flow of our work for a day." But it didn't gum up the works. At the end of the day, the workers said they enjoyed the rather unorthodox system. Harold agreed, and later he gave Philip some reading material on management skills and organizational development. The boy read it with passion and went to the library for more. Here was his new love.
During his senior year, Philip decided to attend college and perhaps pursue a career in organizational management. Although the family had enough money to pay for him to attend a state university, they all agreed that he would benefit more from earning his own way. On his own initiative, he received loans and entrance to a smaller, professionally-oriented college.
The Hamiltons were now part of a core of friends and associates who met weekly at the Deters' home. This was not a clique of esoteric thinkers, but a gathering of friends who were concerned to bring dignity to their family life, professions, schools and neighborhoods. They spoke on many topics, and John Deter always had the perfect way to "wrap up" the discussion and uplift it to new heights of awareness for everyone. They all loved him, as he loved something larger. In fact, there were times it seemed that he was listening to something deep inside that revealed more wisdom than he consciously knew he had.
Philip attended these meetings now with some regularity. He had never been forced to do so, but he began to see the value in them and volunteered his time. He even spoke up a few times, and when he saw the look on the Deters' and his parents' faces, he knew that he was an accepted part of things, and what he had to say really mattered.
At graduation time, Philip was honored by this grouping at a banquet in his honor. He had never imagined that he was so included in so many people's lives, and when he got up to thank everyone, all he could say was, "Thanks. I hope to live up to what you see in me. It's a lot, but I think I can do it." They assured him he would, and then some.
During his college years, Philip turned down the opportunity to stand out at different times. He seemed to be driven toward a goal he could not determine, and many typical college activities became distractions to him. He dated a bit, studied a lot, played intramural sports whenever he could. He wrote his parents and the Deters more than he visited, and they understood. Some of the correspondence of those days he would look back on as essential for the formation of his life direction. Not one letter mentioned anything about careers or job opportunities or even general advice. Yet they were full of assurance, answering all his wonderings and doubts in off-hand remarks or stories about someone's youth. The remembrance of all those years of nurturance were beginning to converge into a desire to honor all those who had prepared his way. Above all, he wanted to be of service--in his career and in his character. It was as if something inside was waking up to himself....
Harold and Paula were looking at how to best use their later years. All the excitement of discussing and planning ways to refine their sense of service was passing away, and they realized it was not because they were getting disinterested, but because they were more mature. They began to share the Deters' responsibility for hosting meetings and guiding younger members through their awakenings to the creative process. And while they did that, the Deters were becoming less active in the discussions and more available for quiet, private chats and simple ways to bring graciousness to their setting. All this seemed very natural, and everyone who attended, regularly or not, accepted and loved the way it was working.
On Thanksgiving of his sophomore year, Philip returned home and attended a dinner meeting at the Deters' home with his parents. After the meal, everyone convened in the meeting room. John picked up a book called "Beyond Belief" and turned to a page he had marked. He began to read without introduction:
"There needs to be a balance point, so that all who will may associate with that balance point. And that does not mean join some organization, believe some creed or other. It merely means come into alignment with the way things are, the truth. Come into alignment with that. Human beings have been so long out of alignment that they have forgotten what that might mean. So there must be those present on earth who know what it means, know what it means not because they have been told by somebody or other but because they themselves have the experience of it. It is the only way you can know anything."
Philip understood perfectly what it meant. It meant integrity, letting the creative process work even when it's uncomfortable. It meant being an example to others, not by mental greatness or financial wealth, but by being right all the time. It was inspiring but also discomforting. How well did he do it? How could he ever improve? And why was John reading this particular passage today?
Back at college, Philip seemed to have a knack for "sniffing out" extracurricular programs that gave him the kind of training he felt he needed. He went white-water rafting with a group of students. He took an outdoor adventure course. He took a seminar in group dynamics in which the participants simulated a production team for a whole day. He gained skills in dealing with people and in being patient with his ideas, and he made special effort to apply what he learned in every situation.
By the time graduation came around, he had three job offers and two marriage proposals. He graciously put everything on hold while he made arrangements for his parents and the Deters to arrive for the festivities. After it was all over, he had a long talk with the four of them, outlining his ideas and asking for their input. Out of their discussion, it was decided that it was best for Philip to work in his father's business for a limited time, then re-evaluate. And the marriage proposals were tenderly declined.
On his first day of work, Philip was introduced as "the junior boss." Everyone was made clear that he was on his own, not his father's heir apparent. Then everyone relaxed and welcomed him into the office community, complete with his own tiny office and broken-down typewriter.
Philip wanted to prove himself and his understanding of business management. But he wanted to prove his understanding of the creative process even more. So he listened more than he spoke, and he quickly gained everyone's appreciation. He learned quickly, "read" people accurately, and before long he was comfortable in making suggestions and testing results, just as he had learned in school--and at home. His father was proud, not because his son was a brilliant college-trained manager, but because his son was an energetic and humble young man.
Early on a Sunday morning, Harold received a call from Ruth. John had passed away during the night. She said it simply and quietly, and Harold was deeply touched by this woman who had the strength and assurance to know that all was well. He told his family, and they shared several moments of quiet thanksgiving for the friend they had loved so much.
Harold presided over the memorial service, and Philip was given a chance to speak. It seemed that half the town was there, and at least half of those had attended at least a few of the Deters' meetings over the last fifteen or twenty years. After the service, Philip told his father he found himself saying things he didn't know he knew. Harold told him the same thing had happened to him. He said it had to do with being still right down to the core, where the real intelligence is.
In the next few days, the Hamiltons had many quiet talks with Ruth. One day they brought Philip into the discussion, then a few others of their circle of friends and associates. A very carefully monitored creative process was underway.
On the next meeting night, although no announcement had been made, most of the "regulars" showed up. When they entered the room, they saw Harold sitting in the seat that had been John's. There was no mention of this; everyone accepted it as natural.
Once everyone was settled, Harold spoke: "Over these last few days, some things have been becoming clearer in my heart and mind. What John did in this house over the last number of years is quite remarkable. With Ruth's constant agreement and love, he brought together a new kind of family, made up of very diverse people. And he brought strength and purpose to our awareness. There is a general consensus that this should not end with John's passing. So, in order to keep the rhythm and perhaps see how it can grow, Paula and I will be purchasing this house. We have asked Ruth to stay here with us, and she has accepted.
"A lot of things are still uncertain. I may take an early retirement and turn over the business to someone else. That someone may be Philip, but then again it may not. Philip will have plenty on his mind, since he's going to take over our house. I hear he wants to fix it up. Since I know some of his skill as a carpenter, I'm glad we're moving out first!" Everyone laughed. These words were comforting and encouraging, and everyone could sense the largeness and carefulness of what was taking place.
"Anyway, there is work to be done, for all of us. I'm not John, and I'm not like him. If we are going to see this family really come together and be effective, it will happen because we all grow up and participate. I'm not sure I have any words of wisdom that you haven't already heard from John or from the books he read. So now it's up to us all. I feel it will be exciting. How about you? Ready to be of real service?
Paula was the first to voice agreement, then Ruth. Then several others spoke their agreement. Then Philip spoke up: "Up to now you've been a fine father to me, and I appreciate what you gave me for all those years. Now you're asking us to grow up and join you in some adventure. I accept that challenge, ... Harold."
Everyone understood Philip in that moment. He had accepted more than a challenge. He had accepted his own place in the adult world. Of course, he was still a bit brash at times, but he was learning quickly. Now he was ready to learn to be a man, in the company of clear-headed and large-hearted friends. And if the creative process would bear out, one particular woman would join him ....
After a final moment of thanksgiving, the group rose and greeted each other with hugs and handshakes. Philip was right in the middle of it all, loving every embrace. He caught his father's eye across the room. In silent agreement, they winked at each other, right in sync.