I've been handing out an article from last month's Shambhala Sun, by Thic Nhat Hanh, How to Heal the Wounded Child Within Us. It's a great article and I hope you don't think I'm too weird when I say - I love that Thic Nhat Hanh and wish I could give him a hug every time I read something he's written.
Though sometimes the words "inner child" make me giggle in a sophomoric, sitting in the back of the class way, I have come to believe there is really something important for many adults in trying to be kind and gentle with themselves in a way that a good parent would be kind and gentle with a child.
But this blogpost isn't about the Inner Child. It's about the sophomoric, sitting in the back of the class voice that I (so originally) call the Inner Adolescent. If the primary developmental task of adolescence is to create a stable identity, the Inner Adolescent is the part of us that gets triggered out of our adult identity. It is a poseur identity that looks strong on the outside, but the inside is insecure. When we act or talk from our Inner Adolescent we act and talk in ways that aren't necessarily congruent with what we say we believe and how we want to act in the world.
Though I have been known to indulge in watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, a great part of the 'pleasure' in it is seeing grown women behave like catty, backstabbing teens. The part of us that gossips about others (even if we justify to ourselves that we're not gossiping), the part of us that makes quick judgments on the behavior of others, the part of us that is righteously indignant for reasons that can be as personal as someone not inviting our child to a birthday party or as impersonal as an editorial in the New York Times - this is our Inner Adolescent. Even watching the stinking Real Housewives is a way of 'taking care' of my own Inner Adolescent.
I'm going to posit that, like the Inner Child, we need to take care of our Inner Adolescent and not just try to squash her down without paying attention to what she (or he) is trying to tell us. (This doesn't mean we should consistently act from her/his gut instinct.)
Why do we have an impulse to gossip, to judge, to rage?
The answer may be different for everyone, but I think it's worth looking at places in us where our identity feels unstable, people we may spend time with who trigger old feelings of wanting to be liked or at least measure up.
When I think about my teen years, I remember worrying so much about my hair. It needed to be big, very big. Having a "bad hair" day could effect my mood (I'm even laughing as I write it). I remember finally realizing that all the other girls were so worried about their own hair that they really weren't paying attention to mine.
So, I go forth today, feeling good about my hair (grays and all) and grateful for the things I continue to learn from my Inner Adolescent, that wide-eyed good girl with the secret urge to do something rebellious, like be a poet.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thursday, March 17, 2011
anxious? what to do/not do
In the past month or so, my son taught himself to play chess, which I thought was really cool since I've said for about 20 years, 'I should really learn how to play chess,' but I've never done it. So, he dug up a chess board from the basement, read some directions from the Dangerous Book for Boys and now we have a new pasttime in the family (I've since learned how to play, too). We found out about a great place in St. Louis, The St. Louis Chess Club, http://www.stlouischessclub.org/ and told him we'd take him. On the afternoon we were supposed to visit for the first time, he threw his dessert from lunch in the trash - unheard of! 'What's the matter?' I asked. 'I'm too anxious to eat it.' he said. 'Anxious?' I asked - his seven year old self using the word anxious made me anxious. 'Mom, there are three types of anxious - nervous, excited and worried. I'm excited.' Yeah, of course.
It's true what he said. I looked it up in the Oxford English Dictionary. As I observe it, the older we get, the less anxiety we have that feels 'excited.' We tend to lump it in with worried and nervous and it can grow to low level panic.
So, here are some thoughts about anxiety and coping: In my life and in my work I observe there are a couple ways people tend to cope with anxiety - 1) overfunction, 2) underfunction. I am a classic overfunctioner. Just at the moment I am feeling overwhelmed by things like raising small children, running my own business, taking care of a sick relative, and serving in some kind of church leadership role (you can tell this is just a made up scenario, right?!), that's when I decide is the best moment to finally put a poetry manuscript together. That's so sensible. I have admiration for people who are underfunctioners, though this gets them in trouble too (I hear) - when life places too many demands, they get caught up in a CSI marathon or realize that they really NEED 10 hours of sleep a night. Obviously, many people are some combination - overfunction in their home life, for example ('the entire house must be clean RIGHT NOW!!!) and underfunction in their work life, etc.
I've become a big advocate of trying something different or even the opposite of what you'd normally do. No matter how 'anxious' it makes you. If you are feeling anxious and have the urge to sign up for a new spinning class, maybe make a deal with yourself to hold off on that urge for a week. Try sitting down and reading a book. If you are overwhelmed and feel like you just need to come home and take a nap after work, call a friend to go on a walk instead. It will feel very weird at first to do or not do something different than usual, but I think it's worth it.
On a note not totally unrelated to anxiety, but also I more founded in reality and compassion, I want to acknowledge that many of us are thinking of the people of Japan and, whether we are consider ourselves religious/spiritual or not, we are holding them in our thoughts, hoping for the courage and wisdom of our leaders to help guide the efforts to alleviate suffering there.
It's true what he said. I looked it up in the Oxford English Dictionary. As I observe it, the older we get, the less anxiety we have that feels 'excited.' We tend to lump it in with worried and nervous and it can grow to low level panic.
So, here are some thoughts about anxiety and coping: In my life and in my work I observe there are a couple ways people tend to cope with anxiety - 1) overfunction, 2) underfunction. I am a classic overfunctioner. Just at the moment I am feeling overwhelmed by things like raising small children, running my own business, taking care of a sick relative, and serving in some kind of church leadership role (you can tell this is just a made up scenario, right?!), that's when I decide is the best moment to finally put a poetry manuscript together. That's so sensible. I have admiration for people who are underfunctioners, though this gets them in trouble too (I hear) - when life places too many demands, they get caught up in a CSI marathon or realize that they really NEED 10 hours of sleep a night. Obviously, many people are some combination - overfunction in their home life, for example ('the entire house must be clean RIGHT NOW!!!) and underfunction in their work life, etc.
I've become a big advocate of trying something different or even the opposite of what you'd normally do. No matter how 'anxious' it makes you. If you are feeling anxious and have the urge to sign up for a new spinning class, maybe make a deal with yourself to hold off on that urge for a week. Try sitting down and reading a book. If you are overwhelmed and feel like you just need to come home and take a nap after work, call a friend to go on a walk instead. It will feel very weird at first to do or not do something different than usual, but I think it's worth it.
On a note not totally unrelated to anxiety, but also I more founded in reality and compassion, I want to acknowledge that many of us are thinking of the people of Japan and, whether we are consider ourselves religious/spiritual or not, we are holding them in our thoughts, hoping for the courage and wisdom of our leaders to help guide the efforts to alleviate suffering there.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
comforting those who mourn
Driving to meet a colleague for lunch the other day, I happened to run across a radio interview with Joyce Carol Oates. She was speaking with Don Marsh on the St. Louis NPR affiliate, KWMU about her recent book, A Widow's Story http://www.stlpublicradio.org/programs/slota/archivedetail.php?showid=4432 .
Among other topics surrounding her experience of the death of her first husband, she talked about her frustration with what others said to her in their attempts to comfort and support her. One male acquaintance, according to Oates, said something like, "it's just like a divorce - you're free now, you can travel, move to Paris, if you want." She replied, "it's nothing like a divorce."
This topic of what to say to someone regarding the loss of someone beloved to them is something that came up constantly in my work in hospice and still comes up in my private practice. I think we all struggle with this, but because of my six and a half years working in hospice, I'm just more experienced than most people. There were times when I would call a family for the very first time, to introduce myself as their hospice social worker - their loved one had just begun home hospice care the night before. "Hello," I'd say, "My name is Katy Miller and I'm calling to let you know I'll be your mom's hospice social worker. How are you doing?" Then, the awkward pause, and: "I think mom just took her last breath a few minutes ago."
Here is my recommendation about what to say: "I am so sorry." Obviously, in the case above and in the capacity of work I had other things to do and say, but in most regular life cases, when we attend funerals or write sympathy cards, I think it's okay to just be simple. "I'm so sorry. You will be in my thoughts and prayers." Even to say, "I don't know what to say" will probably ring more true to the mourner.
Mourners are rightfully sensitive. So often they are put in the position of being dumped on with other people's unresolved issues about death or other people's attempts to relieve their own anxiety: "this reminds me of when my father died," "I know just how you feel," "It'll be okay," "be grateful you had her for as long as you did," "at least he didn't suffer, "God wanted her with him now," "it's a blessing." No one who has ever offered these words is trying to be unkind - it's just that to the person who just suffered a loss is not equipped to comfort another person, nor are they in the position to easily feel comforted.
In the end, I also think there's a lot to be said for not saying much, but giving someone a hug, holding their hand, giving a pat on the arm. I know I've thought more about death than most people, so I've often thought that no matter how awesome the afterlife is, it doesn't seem like touch will be a part of it. Maybe touch is unique to life and as good a way as any to comfort someone we care about who has just suffered a loss.
Among other topics surrounding her experience of the death of her first husband, she talked about her frustration with what others said to her in their attempts to comfort and support her. One male acquaintance, according to Oates, said something like, "it's just like a divorce - you're free now, you can travel, move to Paris, if you want." She replied, "it's nothing like a divorce."
This topic of what to say to someone regarding the loss of someone beloved to them is something that came up constantly in my work in hospice and still comes up in my private practice. I think we all struggle with this, but because of my six and a half years working in hospice, I'm just more experienced than most people. There were times when I would call a family for the very first time, to introduce myself as their hospice social worker - their loved one had just begun home hospice care the night before. "Hello," I'd say, "My name is Katy Miller and I'm calling to let you know I'll be your mom's hospice social worker. How are you doing?" Then, the awkward pause, and: "I think mom just took her last breath a few minutes ago."
Here is my recommendation about what to say: "I am so sorry." Obviously, in the case above and in the capacity of work I had other things to do and say, but in most regular life cases, when we attend funerals or write sympathy cards, I think it's okay to just be simple. "I'm so sorry. You will be in my thoughts and prayers." Even to say, "I don't know what to say" will probably ring more true to the mourner.
Mourners are rightfully sensitive. So often they are put in the position of being dumped on with other people's unresolved issues about death or other people's attempts to relieve their own anxiety: "this reminds me of when my father died," "I know just how you feel," "It'll be okay," "be grateful you had her for as long as you did," "at least he didn't suffer, "God wanted her with him now," "it's a blessing." No one who has ever offered these words is trying to be unkind - it's just that to the person who just suffered a loss is not equipped to comfort another person, nor are they in the position to easily feel comforted.
In the end, I also think there's a lot to be said for not saying much, but giving someone a hug, holding their hand, giving a pat on the arm. I know I've thought more about death than most people, so I've often thought that no matter how awesome the afterlife is, it doesn't seem like touch will be a part of it. Maybe touch is unique to life and as good a way as any to comfort someone we care about who has just suffered a loss.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
happily ever after
My daughter is into musicals. It started with Les Miserables (which you might already know, if you read this blog regularly). We've moved on to Oklahoma! Now, We talk about Laurie and Ado Annie just as much as Marius and Cosette. It seems such a wholesome interest, in general, as long as you don't listen too closely to the words to "Lovely Ladies" or if you are able to talk really loud at just the right time when "Master of the House" is on.
Anyway, it seems something to be encouraged - and I've been thinking of other musicals she might like: My Fair Lady, Fiddler on the Roof, The King and I. And I realize as I'm brainstorming that these aren't that much different than some of the Disney Princess movies. So much is about falling in love. We give messages to our kids from an incredibly young age about what it's like to fall in love. And it continues...adult romantic comedies are mostly about the thrill of and obstacles to falling in love.
I was talking with my aunt the other day about marriage - she's been married 49 years. It's no big revelation - our society sure doesn't provide a lot of information or examples to kids and young people about staying together and what that looks like. We don't glorify or even exemplify the quieter nature of most long term love. We don't pay as much attention to it, nor does our culture always support it.
The other night when there was a tornado warning at 11:30, I woke up to the siren and woke my husband. He turned on the news...he loves weather and one of the things I enjoy about him is that he really studies it. So when he said, "we should really probably get to the basement," I believed him. It's not fun to have to sweep up the sleeping kids and the pets and swiftly wrangle them to the basement when our house has been quiet and sleeping for a few hours. But with two people it's not so bad. And once we all got down there, I found it really comforting to know we were all there together.
I've written before about mindfulness- I think we can extend it to our marriages, too. Being mindful and appreciative or our partners/spouses doesn't have the excitement and thrill of locking eyes with a stranger on a train. But the stranger on a train won't be a stranger for long. He/she will be a regular person.
One thing I love about my aunt and uncle's marriage is that they both have a great sense of humor. That's another thing I'd like to recommend in examining our long term loves. Being able to laugh seems like a diffuser of a lot of conflict. Being able to laugh at yourself seems like a good way to avoid many problems that can befall both a relationship and just dealing with yourself as an individual.
To that end - with humor about ourselves and long term relationships, I'm linking to a clip you may have already seen, but it's hilarious. This is a "musical" for grown ups...Flight of the Conchords: Business Time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGOohBytKTU
Enjoy!
Anyway, it seems something to be encouraged - and I've been thinking of other musicals she might like: My Fair Lady, Fiddler on the Roof, The King and I. And I realize as I'm brainstorming that these aren't that much different than some of the Disney Princess movies. So much is about falling in love. We give messages to our kids from an incredibly young age about what it's like to fall in love. And it continues...adult romantic comedies are mostly about the thrill of and obstacles to falling in love.
I was talking with my aunt the other day about marriage - she's been married 49 years. It's no big revelation - our society sure doesn't provide a lot of information or examples to kids and young people about staying together and what that looks like. We don't glorify or even exemplify the quieter nature of most long term love. We don't pay as much attention to it, nor does our culture always support it.
The other night when there was a tornado warning at 11:30, I woke up to the siren and woke my husband. He turned on the news...he loves weather and one of the things I enjoy about him is that he really studies it. So when he said, "we should really probably get to the basement," I believed him. It's not fun to have to sweep up the sleeping kids and the pets and swiftly wrangle them to the basement when our house has been quiet and sleeping for a few hours. But with two people it's not so bad. And once we all got down there, I found it really comforting to know we were all there together.
I've written before about mindfulness- I think we can extend it to our marriages, too. Being mindful and appreciative or our partners/spouses doesn't have the excitement and thrill of locking eyes with a stranger on a train. But the stranger on a train won't be a stranger for long. He/she will be a regular person.
One thing I love about my aunt and uncle's marriage is that they both have a great sense of humor. That's another thing I'd like to recommend in examining our long term loves. Being able to laugh seems like a diffuser of a lot of conflict. Being able to laugh at yourself seems like a good way to avoid many problems that can befall both a relationship and just dealing with yourself as an individual.
To that end - with humor about ourselves and long term relationships, I'm linking to a clip you may have already seen, but it's hilarious. This is a "musical" for grown ups...Flight of the Conchords: Business Time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGOohBytKTU
Enjoy!
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