psychology

We Are Here to Help Each Other by Beth Winegarner

Photo by Ralph (Ravi) Kayden/Unsplash.

Photo by Ralph (Ravi) Kayden/Unsplash.

When we’re together, humans constantly influence each other’s emotional states. A grumpy person on our bus can leave us feeling cranky, while a calm doctor can soothe us from the moment she enters the exam room. When our kids or partners are testy, it can make us short-tempered, escalating a moment of tension into a fight. And when we snuggle into a loved one’s arms, both of us quiet and breathing slowly, we settle into a bubble of calm and safety.

In psychology, this is often called “co-regulation,” especially that last example. Scientist Stephen Porges believes that humans, like all mammals, were designed to settle their nervous systems in connection with others. We learn to self-regulate through the safety that co-regulation teaches us, and teaches our bodies.

“Our ability to achieve a state of regulation—and especially to be able to support others who are in distress—actually comes from our capacity and opportunity to lean on support ourselves. And we need the support of not just one strong relationship, resiliency research shows, but of many. We need a distribution of support, so that we have access to a wide range of relationships to keep us resilient without overtaxing any one of them,” Porges said last year.

Growing up and even now, it’s hard for me to feel 100% safe leaning on other people for support and comfort. I think it’s for a combination of reasons: being on the autism spectrum has made it more difficult for me to understand human behavior sometimes, especially when I am too trusting and wind up getting burned. I’ve been hurt a lot by people, and I’m still learning that, while some interpersonal harm is abusive, we also accidentally hurt each other even in the best of relationships. And then we mend again.

Co-regulation doesn’t happen only between mammals of the same species. Anyone who’s had a close relationship with a cat, dog, horse, or other sweet critter knows that we can soothe and support each other across species. For much of my life, I’ve sought comfort and safety from animals, cats in particular. They have helped me immensely.

The brilliant folks at Queer Nature talk about the idea that co-regulation can go beyond mammals, beyond other critters, to other beings in nature (trees, stones, rivers), or the earth itself. As someone who instantly settles down when I am among trees or by the ocean, I love the idea of co-regulation with these spaces. But is it “co”? Am I helping them return to calm and safety in the way they’re helping me? Sometimes I would swear I feel a tree lean into me when I lean against it, or the playfulness of water as it laps around my ankles, certainly.

Getting to these ideas, and accepting them, can be challenging, especially for those of us raised in white privilege, a white/human supremacist culture, and/or in a culture that values individualism and doing everything on your own. Humans in leadership have been dismantling close connections to nature for centuries, especially in an effort to eradicate those connections among the indigenous people of the Americas. But when you look at how many ways different species rely on each other for survival, it begins to make more sense. In her book Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer writes about how the sweetgrass grows better and healthier when some of it (about 50 percent) is harvested by humans. Or think about how our gut flora couldn’t live without us, and we couldn’t live without them. Nature is full of such examples.

I have been reading these ideas and absorbing them, ironically, in an effort to reach out more often to my fellow humans for help, comfort, and safety. I’m lucky to be at a point in my life where I have a lot of people around me who understand the value of community, particularly communities of care, and of not enduring something alone. And, slowly, it’s getting easier to reach out to them when I need. But that hasn’t diminished the value, for me, of finding comfort with my kitty, the shoreline, the birds in my backyard or a quiet grove of trees. I’m very lucky to have that, too.