As a younger woman, one of the idiosyncratic things I carried some shame about for a long time, was being a 'secret smoker.' During college and for several years after that, a lot of my friends smoked cigarettes when they went out to the bars, socialized, etc. Because it was socially sanctioned, I joined in and had no shame about it. But, I also snuck off and smoked cigarettes at other times. I felt terrible about that type of smoking and put a lot of rules on myself. And being Miss Moderation, I largely followed the main rule: no more than 4 cigarettes a day. Okay five.
Why did I smoke,when besides being bad for me, it was such an aggravation to go through the elaborate rituals of trying to hide it (perfume, breath mints, hiding in alleys away from my bosses at work?) Why did I smoke, when I got mad at myself about it? There were a lot of reasons, but the one I want to talk about is how we tend to want to hold onto shame. How we sometimes cling to habits that give us an excuse to beat up on oursleves.
The theme of regrets and shame, how we are hard on ourselves, I've been really trying to examine this lately. Why do we judge ourselves so harshly? Do we judge others harshly? Sometimes. So if we judge others harshly, I guess it would make 'sense' to judge ourselves that way.
Yet for me personally, this has not been a problem. I'm just not judgmental. But I am a perfectionist with myself. I observe that many of us are very hard on ourselves and very forgiving of others. Why don't we turn that same compassion inward? What does our shame and regret serve? What does it not serve?
Being a parent has helped me with this, but it doesn't take a parent to get it. As a parent, there is nothing your kid could do that would make you not love them. There's a great scene with Lily Tomlin in a movie called "Flirting With Disaster", where she very dramatically clutches her chest and yells at her son "Even if you were Jeffrey Dahmer, we would still love you!" The whole movie is bizarrely hysterical.
And absurdly, it does make me think of my experience of love as a parent. One small example that comes to mind is when my then four year old daughter told a lie and got caught - I said, "Always tell me the truth and you will not get in as much trouble as if you lie and I find out." She bawled with shame, "I don't know why I have this mischief in me!" she said.
As a parent, as a human being, I felt compassion for her - I remembered feeling the way she felt when I was a kid - the feeling of being disappointed in yourself. I think there's a healthy aspect to it, because it can be a motivator to behavior change, but no part of me would ever want her to carry that disappointment with her forever. The parent in me says to the child in her, "Yes, you made a mistake. We all do that. We are human. Let's go on to the next set of choices and make better ones. I love you and always will, with all my heart, with all my self."
When we feel this unconditional love, we have some foundation from which to forgive our selves. We can let go more easily. We can say to ourselves, "Self, that sucks. But it's not the end of the world. Make your apologies if you need to and don't do it again." The shame is not something that we let define us.
If you are a parent, you know your child is inherently good and is most likely trying her best. Sometimes she doesn't do as well - when she is tired, when she's had many recent changes (school, teachers, schedules), when she is hungry, or sometimes she just has a bad day. How are you or I any different from this?
So here's what I propose. If you are struggling with the same habit, whether it's smoking, eating, a soured relationship, a bad temper, whatever- I propose talking to yourself like you are the most loving, fair parent in the world (I like to think of Atticus Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird). What might you say to yourself? Then, take the time to say it.
And if you don't take the time to say it, for goodness sakes, don't get mad at yourself about that. One of my favorite, flawed heroines, Scarlett O'Hara said it, and I agree - "Tomorrow is another day."
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
September 11, 2011
I grew up in a patriotic family. My dad, during my childhood, was conservative and my mom was liberal. My dad was in the Army reserves and my mom listened to Peter, Paul and Mary. I was rocked to sleep by my dad to soothing lullabies, like "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and "You're a Grand Old Flag." It brings a smile to my face, to tell you the truth. And, as a ten/eleven year old kid, I remember on many occasions. sitting at the dinner table, debating with my dad about nuclear capability. He was pro, I was con. When we visited Williamsburg on a family vacation, my sister recalls him provding a dramatic recitation of the Patrick Henry speech, "give me liberty, or give me death!" at one of the historic buildings.
Like many of us today, I remember the deep grief, dismay and fear I felt on September 11, 2001. I remember both my disappointment in aspects of mankind and my awe at the courage of our firefighters and other first responders.
So today, with our country, I remember and honor those who died on September 11 and those who lost loved ones.
I also honor what I believe is the hope of our country; the imagining, the vision of the Founding Fathers that says, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Because I grew up with this sense of history and duty to country, I've thought about the idea of "Give me liberty or give me death!" over the years - about the assumption and belief that certain things are worth dying for. It's not something to be said lightly. It's a mentality that can go awfully wrong. After September 11, 2001, we heard a lot about our 'enemies' who wanted to take away our freedom and destroy our American way of life. But, as we all have, I've witnessed some freedoms taken away by our own government, and I've seen our government act in some ways that our incongruent with the values that I thought we were supposed to stand for.
Still, when I really think about it, I am patriotic, even today. I am patriotic today, and it is in large part because of the ideas that our country was built on. I appreciate and celebrate and I do not for one second take for granted the freedom to write this very blog and express both my love of my country and also my ambivalance about some of our policies and leaders. I am patriotic today, and it is because I can utilize my freedom to imagine and speak of alternatives. So much has been made about threats to our American way of life. Yet, I wonder, what would our American way of life look like if the trillions of dollars we'd spent on wars in Iraq and Afghanistan had been spent, yes, on homeland security, but also on jobs, improving infrastructure, scientific research, education, improving conditions and opportunities in our poorer neighborhoods?
As I've been writing this blog, I've been thinking in particular about two words: liberty and mercy. Both imply choice in important ways, and both imply privilege. Liberty implies the power to choose among alternatives. Mercy is defined by "compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm." (The New Oxford American Dictionary).
When we feel downtrodden or unlucky or discouraged, we must admit to ourselves the truth. We are still from a nation of great privilege. This should not be damning, but it is a great responsibility. It is a responsibility to envision a future and articulate it. By the way we live our lives, conduct our business, govern our people, and wield what power we have, may the people of the United States and its leaders promote liberty and act with mercy for and toward all people and every nation.
Like many of us today, I remember the deep grief, dismay and fear I felt on September 11, 2001. I remember both my disappointment in aspects of mankind and my awe at the courage of our firefighters and other first responders.
So today, with our country, I remember and honor those who died on September 11 and those who lost loved ones.
I also honor what I believe is the hope of our country; the imagining, the vision of the Founding Fathers that says, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Because I grew up with this sense of history and duty to country, I've thought about the idea of "Give me liberty or give me death!" over the years - about the assumption and belief that certain things are worth dying for. It's not something to be said lightly. It's a mentality that can go awfully wrong. After September 11, 2001, we heard a lot about our 'enemies' who wanted to take away our freedom and destroy our American way of life. But, as we all have, I've witnessed some freedoms taken away by our own government, and I've seen our government act in some ways that our incongruent with the values that I thought we were supposed to stand for.
Still, when I really think about it, I am patriotic, even today. I am patriotic today, and it is in large part because of the ideas that our country was built on. I appreciate and celebrate and I do not for one second take for granted the freedom to write this very blog and express both my love of my country and also my ambivalance about some of our policies and leaders. I am patriotic today, and it is because I can utilize my freedom to imagine and speak of alternatives. So much has been made about threats to our American way of life. Yet, I wonder, what would our American way of life look like if the trillions of dollars we'd spent on wars in Iraq and Afghanistan had been spent, yes, on homeland security, but also on jobs, improving infrastructure, scientific research, education, improving conditions and opportunities in our poorer neighborhoods?
As I've been writing this blog, I've been thinking in particular about two words: liberty and mercy. Both imply choice in important ways, and both imply privilege. Liberty implies the power to choose among alternatives. Mercy is defined by "compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm." (The New Oxford American Dictionary).
When we feel downtrodden or unlucky or discouraged, we must admit to ourselves the truth. We are still from a nation of great privilege. This should not be damning, but it is a great responsibility. It is a responsibility to envision a future and articulate it. By the way we live our lives, conduct our business, govern our people, and wield what power we have, may the people of the United States and its leaders promote liberty and act with mercy for and toward all people and every nation.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Changing your strategy
I'm going to share a little bit about my eight year old boy. First, I'll tell a couple things I enjoy immensely about him, then I'll tell a story that is specific to him, but also universal to all of us at one time or another.
The boy is funny, but he doesn't share that with everyone. He's not like a comedian. He's also rather shy. So you have to know him pretty well to be privy to his sense of humor. The other day at dinner he looks over at me and says, "Mom. Have you ever thought about your job?
"What do you mean?" I say.
"You're a psycho. Therapist. Psycho. Therapist. You are a cuckoo therapist!" Well, I am glad we all know were we stand in my family and yes, I had actually thought about what a funny word "psychotherapist" is.
Another funny thing recently...I'm in the basement doing laundry and I hear him shouting "Mom, come up here - you're going to think this is hilarious!"
I come up and he's lying on the bed with his Calivin and Hobbes Book (It's a Magical World, I think). "Look at this one," he says.
It's one-frame and shows Calvin and Hobbes looking at a snowman that has a hot water bottle on its head. Hobbes says, "Why does that snowman have a hot water bottle on its head?" Calvin answers, "He's committing suicide."
Okay, so it's a little dark. Actually, I like that we can share Calvin and Hobbes, which I've always loved, as well as a general sense of humor.
So, now I'll tell you that my son picked up chess in the past eight months. He taught himself to play by reading The Dangerous Book for Boys, and dug up a chess board that was packed away in the basement. My husband and I were kind of delighted - chess is fun for adults (unlike, some other board games) and an adult and child can be equally skilled.
The boy entered his first amateur chess tournament the other weekend. As we drove over to the St. Louis Chess Club, he says, "Mom. I know my strategy. I'm going to play Hyper-Aggressive. Not a lot of people know how to handle Hyper-Aggressive."
I think to myself, "Here we go." But, I say something profound like "Oh."
God love my son, but he did not deviate from that Hyper-Aggressive strategy (and though I've never been an 8 year old boy, I can really feel that Hyper-Aggressive would feel like THE right strategy to an 8 year old boy). So, in four rounds he lost three and had a stalemate in one.
I love that my kid remains optimistic throughout the process. After each game, he'd look at me and say, "I still have another chance to win!"
We even left the chess club with a participation medal and got into the car, where he indeed, got upset about the losses.
I am not just saying this to be politically correct: I really don't really care if he wins or loses as long as he has fun. I am pretty emotionally detached from the win/lose process in any sport or game as far as my kids go. Yet I won't say this wasn't a stressful moment for both of us. I tried simply acknowledging how I could understand he was disappointed, but this didn't seem to be that helpful and maybe even escalated him.
Finally, what I said (okay, yelled), was "Honey, you had one strategy and you never changed it, even though you had evidence that it wasn't working. There are so many strategies in chess - why don't you pick another one and just try that and see what happens. If that doesn't work, find another strategy and see what happens. One of them will be a winning strategy."
I'm not sure if it took, but it occurred to me as the words were coming out of my mouth that the "stick with the strategy" mindset is a hinderance to many of us in many areas of our life. How many times do we keep trying the same strategy with a boss, a spouse, a parent, a career, a course of study, a life's ambition, a house project? Even when all the evidence says it's not working, we don't want to stop.
When I was telling the story of my son and the chess tournament to my friend, Jen, she said something like, "yeah, I think sometimes we blame our execution of the strategy and think if we just do more of the strategy that will change to outcome."
Sometimes, we don't give up our strategy as a matter of pride. Sometimes we don't give up our strategy because we don't know other strategies.
If we're stuck in life or not getting the results we want in a certain area, I recommend letting up a little, making room a little, trying something different. Why not? If we're not getting the result we want anyway, what do we have to lose?
The boy is funny, but he doesn't share that with everyone. He's not like a comedian. He's also rather shy. So you have to know him pretty well to be privy to his sense of humor. The other day at dinner he looks over at me and says, "Mom. Have you ever thought about your job?
"What do you mean?" I say.
"You're a psycho. Therapist. Psycho. Therapist. You are a cuckoo therapist!" Well, I am glad we all know were we stand in my family and yes, I had actually thought about what a funny word "psychotherapist" is.
Another funny thing recently...I'm in the basement doing laundry and I hear him shouting "Mom, come up here - you're going to think this is hilarious!"
I come up and he's lying on the bed with his Calivin and Hobbes Book (It's a Magical World, I think). "Look at this one," he says.
It's one-frame and shows Calvin and Hobbes looking at a snowman that has a hot water bottle on its head. Hobbes says, "Why does that snowman have a hot water bottle on its head?" Calvin answers, "He's committing suicide."
Okay, so it's a little dark. Actually, I like that we can share Calvin and Hobbes, which I've always loved, as well as a general sense of humor.
So, now I'll tell you that my son picked up chess in the past eight months. He taught himself to play by reading The Dangerous Book for Boys, and dug up a chess board that was packed away in the basement. My husband and I were kind of delighted - chess is fun for adults (unlike, some other board games) and an adult and child can be equally skilled.
The boy entered his first amateur chess tournament the other weekend. As we drove over to the St. Louis Chess Club, he says, "Mom. I know my strategy. I'm going to play Hyper-Aggressive. Not a lot of people know how to handle Hyper-Aggressive."
I think to myself, "Here we go." But, I say something profound like "Oh."
God love my son, but he did not deviate from that Hyper-Aggressive strategy (and though I've never been an 8 year old boy, I can really feel that Hyper-Aggressive would feel like THE right strategy to an 8 year old boy). So, in four rounds he lost three and had a stalemate in one.
I love that my kid remains optimistic throughout the process. After each game, he'd look at me and say, "I still have another chance to win!"
We even left the chess club with a participation medal and got into the car, where he indeed, got upset about the losses.
I am not just saying this to be politically correct: I really don't really care if he wins or loses as long as he has fun. I am pretty emotionally detached from the win/lose process in any sport or game as far as my kids go. Yet I won't say this wasn't a stressful moment for both of us. I tried simply acknowledging how I could understand he was disappointed, but this didn't seem to be that helpful and maybe even escalated him.
Finally, what I said (okay, yelled), was "Honey, you had one strategy and you never changed it, even though you had evidence that it wasn't working. There are so many strategies in chess - why don't you pick another one and just try that and see what happens. If that doesn't work, find another strategy and see what happens. One of them will be a winning strategy."
I'm not sure if it took, but it occurred to me as the words were coming out of my mouth that the "stick with the strategy" mindset is a hinderance to many of us in many areas of our life. How many times do we keep trying the same strategy with a boss, a spouse, a parent, a career, a course of study, a life's ambition, a house project? Even when all the evidence says it's not working, we don't want to stop.
When I was telling the story of my son and the chess tournament to my friend, Jen, she said something like, "yeah, I think sometimes we blame our execution of the strategy and think if we just do more of the strategy that will change to outcome."
Sometimes, we don't give up our strategy as a matter of pride. Sometimes we don't give up our strategy because we don't know other strategies.
If we're stuck in life or not getting the results we want in a certain area, I recommend letting up a little, making room a little, trying something different. Why not? If we're not getting the result we want anyway, what do we have to lose?
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