Contingency planning or 'Touching Together'?
A new lens on contingency
I learn a new definition for an old word. I work hard to wrap my brain around this unfamiliar idea but I mild cognitive dissonance sets in.
Since I now know that insightful golden nuggets exist within uncomfortable contradictions like this, I’m determined to stay the course.
I’m reading the book, The Power of Attachment, by Dr Diane Poole Heller. I haven’t even finished the Introduction and I’ve scribbled notes in the margin, underlined a lot, and dog eared several pages - all centering on trauma, human connections, and the lack thereof.
But then Dr Poole Heller wrote, “There’s a term I want to introduce you to here called contingency.”
This is where my brain got snagged. “Contingency? I know what contingency is. I’m the queen of contingency. If A happens, we do this, but if it’s B instead, we’ll cover things this way. And I know that C is possible, in which case…”
I mean, life is so damn complex these days. I’d venture to guess that many of us are navigating contingency plans - consciously or not - about a few different things at any given time. For crying out loud, even getting groceries can require plans A, B, and C! Right?
But the author goes on to explain that contingency “refers to a relational experience in which you feel understood by another person.”
Huh? What does that have to do with contingency?!? I don’t just swallow a sentence like that whole anymore, the way I did when I was in the cult. Or the way I did in 2020 when I was ensconced in a toxic work relationship (but didn’t know it).
Today, I turn to my friend Etymology Online hoping for insight. I found a glimmer there but still felt churning inside, so I went to Mrs. Google and to Claude too. I read and I started to write and that’s when the separate camps in my brain began to dance with each other.
Contingency comes from the Latin root contingere: con (together) and tangere (to touch). Oh. To touch together. To touch. To touch together. Touching together is indeed a relational experience. As far as I can tell, this use of contingency comes from the world of Attachment Theory - specifically infant observation. It’s rooted in what researchers describe as contingent responsiveness between a caregiver and an infant. Or a mother and her child - that exquisite tenderness when a mother reliably mirrors and responds to a baby’s cues. (Why do I tear up, writing that sentence?) I suppose this relates to ‘secure attachment’.
In the adult world, Poole Heller describes that when there’s contingency, “you have a felt sense that this person is attuned to you, that they resonate with who you are.” Dr Dan Siegel calls this ‘feeling felt,’ and says it’s at the heart of every close relationship.
Siegel also claims that we humans are “natural born contingency detectors”. Our brains are hypersensitive to inauthenticity and inconsistency. As survivors of cultic coercion, we’ve learned how cultic environments and narcissistic relationships actively undermine our capacity to trust our instinct. But that’s not the end of the story, says Poole Heller.
But how do we know the difference between manipulative love bombing and the kind of attunement and resonance that are the foundation for deep, nourishing, and intimate relationships? Back in 2020, I couldn’t tell, even though I had years of post-cult recovery under my belt. I was excited and the projects we worked on dovetailed perfectly with what I was passionate about. It felt so right. Until it didn’t.
And now, a memory rises up - from two years ago when I experienced contingency. I had been attending a discussion group for survivors of coercive control for a while. One day, I took a deep breath and shared a poem I had written, titled, Obituary. It was a big deal for me - I am deeply insecure about poetry. What happened next blew my mind and changed my life in a beautiful way.
The people in the discussion group saw me. They really saw me - in my vulnerability and in my strength. Then, two of the people said they wanted to create a music video around my poem. I was stunned and deeply touched. They brought their passion and skills forward and crafted a video. (See the link below) This was such a powerful healing experience - of being deeply seen - of “feeling felt”. Their creativity and generosity of heart fueled my own, creating a magnificent healing, integrative experience.
This makes me wonder: how might we benefit by refraining from making plans for every imaginable emergency and instead, welcome contingency into our lives by noticing when we are truly seen and by whom?
💫
If you feel the inner nudge to write, you are welcome to attend the ongoing Writing to Reckon classes: where you may get to experience a taste of contingency. 😉
🌟 Here’s the music video of my poem Obituary. 🌟 (It’s a minute and a half long)
Special thanks to Pete, Aditi, and the entire discussion group. 💖 I’d love to hear what you think. I’m suddenly feeling very shy about sharing it. Years later, it’s still tender - i tear up every time I watch it. I feel felt. Seen.
When have you felt seen like this? I’d love to hear.
So agree with what you share here Gerette