Nature and the natural world often serve as teachers in my life. Once I learned about snow houses, called igluvijait in the Inuit language, and began reflecting on their nature. The Inuit used snow to insulate their houses, cutting and stacking the snow in such a way that brought safety, comfort, and well-being. It seems counterintuitive that the very snow and ice that bring about harsh conditions, susceptibility to harm or danger, vulnerability, and discomfort is the very thing needed for them to find shelter and protection from the snow and its detrimental effects.
As a person who does not stutter working with people who stutter, the more I learn about stuttering, the more I understand the necessity of approaching stuttering itself as the essential ingredient needed to find safety, comfort, and well-being. The more a person flees from stuttering, the more they feel the detrimental effects of the harsh conditions often present within the stuttering experience. The more a person accepts stuttering as part of their natural landscape, the more they are able to cut it and stack it to their betterment, finding protection, satisfaction, and comfort in and through stuttering.
"What stands in the way becomes the way." Marcus Aurelius
I learned another valuable analogy from my late colleague, Dennis Cairns, MA, CCC-SLP. One summer, I had the privilege of participating with him in Wichita State University’s summer camp for school-age children who stutter.
He once shared with me and my graduate students a powerful house analogy about how he gradually embraced his stutter and discovered it was no longer an obstacle, particularly in his role as a speech-language pathologist who stuttered. This analogy has stayed with me ever since, so I’m sharing his words here.
"Imagine stuttering as something you're keeping away. You're inside your house, and you look outside and see stuttering is out in the street. You've kept it that way because you don't want to deal with it. You don't want to talk to it. You don't want it close.
Well, then you start looking at it some more, and it's not quite so scary. Pretty soon you look out and it's halfway to your porch. It doesn't look quite as scary as it used to, so you keep looking at it. Then you go away and come back, and now it's up on your porch at your front door. It looks even less scary. And you haven't died yet; you haven't passed out. You look at it and start talking to yourself about it, and you may even talk to it while it's on your porch.
Well, then you get brave enough to invite it inside. But you don't want it close, so it needs to stay over in the corner. When you go by it every day, you look at it, but you don't talk to it yet. But you haven't died either, and it seems less scary. So then you invite it to sit down on your couch, and you start having a discussion with it. But you're not quite ready to go beyond that, so that's where it stays.
And then pretty soon, it starts following you around. You start having more in-depth discussions. Then you find yourself having a meal with it, and you start talking about fears and hopes and dreams. And you realize, well, I still haven't died. I still haven't passed out. It's not quite as scary as it once was. Maybe I can get past this last little fear. Why not totally embrace it? Little by little, it becomes a permanent member of my family.
And I think that's how you truly get past that fear. You have to totally embrace stuttering. There can be no fear of it. That doesn't mean I'm never in a situation I might be fearful of, but it's usually the situation and not my speech. Because we're all fearful of something. People who stutter aren't any different than anyone else when it comes to fears and anxiety. But if you totally embrace your stuttering, and there's no fear, then it can't become a handicap. Then it truly is just something you can talk about, and it's just an everyday part of your life."
Grateful for Dennis’s words of wisdom that remain!
