As a child, I was intrigued by Aesop’s Fables, simple stories with a moral at the end. I didn’t look for hidden meanings, seek to understand why the tortoise plodded on at such a steady pace to win the race. I just recognized that he had a tactic that worked. Here, I present a fable, the tangled web of motivation unexamined. Yet the message, the tactic that worked, is clear.

         Paula and Jim were once intimate partners, revealed who they were to each other, perhaps one moment brave, another vulnerable and frightened. No pretense, no hiding. 

         But no more. Seated on opposite ends of my long office couch, both face forward and avoid eye contact. Throughout the mediation session, their discussion seems almost dispassionate, their emotions well controlled. Except for their veiled anger that occasionally flares. Their protective walls are invisible but real.  

         Paula hopes to return to school and work just part time. To make this possible she needs to move to a nearby state and rely on her extended family to help care for the children. Jim intends to remain in their former residence, to provide a familiar home when the children are with him. But to pay the amount of support Paula requires to implement her plan, could thwart his.   

         They’re on a collision course. Paula says she’s unwilling to accept any less than she believes the Court would order. Her husband’s defensive response to the very mention of Court, delivered in clipped tones, is that her wish to move to another state (even though less than two hours away) would not be allowed by the Judge. They recognize the power of the other’s threat, but continue to wield their own.

           Our session ends with nothing resolved.  

           From my earlier private meeting with each of them, I know what they left unsaid when together. Paula, determined not to cry and appear weak in Jim’s presence, did not disclose what she’d told me, that to go from relying on someone she'd loved to someone who now loved another, filled her with terror. 

          What Jim declined to reveal, was that he'd made moves which now called into question his value as a father, even as a man, surely as a provider. He was consumed with fear over the losses he faced. 

           The Court rulings that each might well achieve, would frustrate them both.

            Did what they left unsaid stand in the way of a successful negotiation? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew that as matters now stood, reason would not prevail.  

            About a week before our next session, Jim called with a question about some requested documents. I asked him if he knew how his wife was feeling. His response was immediate: Scared.

            He added: And frankly, I am too.

            I suggested he consider giving voice to those feelings, letting Paula know.  

            Soon after our next meeting began, Jim turned and faced his wife. Although her eyes remained averted, he spoke in a gentle tone and her shoulders relaxed: I have some inkling of how scared you're feeling. I'm really worried too. I want us both to get a good new start, and I know having your family close will be reassuring and helpful. I've decided not to stand in the way of your move.  

            He acknowledged her insecurity and expressed his own. A more relaxed, and tearful, conversation followed. Sadness and anxiety about the future did not dissipate, but both parties were able to take tentative steps forward, and compromise now seemed possible.

            Moral: Anger is often driven by fear. Fears openly faced and shared soften resistance to reason.