I woke up this morning to a slow rain and faraway thunderstorm. It feels good after all this dry and heat. And there's also something melancholy about the rain and a dawn that is dark.
I am aware that there is a funeral in my small community this weekend. As has been reported in the news, a mother in our area, who'd apparently suffered from terrible depression, killed her children and herself.
We live in a world full of the unknown and the unknowable. Several people this week have asked me, as a grief therapist, "why?"
There are not simple answers. In this time that is so grievous to so many, I don't know how much room there is for hope. I think it is insensitive to ask people to 'hope' before they are ready. Yet, as a grief therapist, and someone who has been around death and dying for much of my professional life, as someone who has worked with survivors of a loved ones' suicide, or homicide, and even murder-suicide, what I hear again and again from survivors is that they wish there was more public knowledge, information and understanding about mental illness.
If you or someone you love has mental illness, please know that there are resources and help. The National Alliance on Mental Illness www.nami.org is a great place to start.
There are many kinds of mental illness. Some kinds feel terrible to the person who is suffering. Some, oddly enough may look like suffering to us on the outside, but the person with the mental illness, doesn't feel bad or they aren't aware that they're putting themselves in danger.
Sometimes, when we hear about or are touched by terrible and sad events in our communities and our world, we feel for an instant that it is an outrageous thing to hope. Yet, I must dream of a time where these types of tragedies, whether it is in my community or in Aurora, Colorado are, literally NOT. Hope can be found where there is love and understanding, where we all know that we are not alone, and that our suffering does not need to be a secret or a source of shame.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
off and on the Zen wagon
I have a dear friend and colleague, Charli Prather, who writes a blog called Military Zen Mom http://militaryzenmom.com/ - she is the mom of a son in the military and he's often in perilous parts of the world and cannot communicate with her. He's great at his work, which certainly makes it more perilous. As you can imagine, it's hard to be 'zen' when your kid, even your adult kid, is a soldier. I admire her a whole lot!
I, too, imagine that I have some inner 'Zen.' Zen mom, Zen therapist, Zen wife, Zen daughter, Zen driver in traffic, Zen grocery store shopper, Zen help the kids get ready for school person. I imagine that there is this person in me with an intrinsic ability to be spontaneous, to see and understand the big picture, to be accepting of my own foibles and the foibles of others.
Oh yeah, and then there's real life. That other lady is kind of in my imagination.
In my family, we are currently in the midst of making some big decisions - happy ones, but they feel weighty. Some parts feel out of my control. This little sentence: 'some parts feel out of my control' - is a big trigger for me.
Under duress, here's what I do: 1) I start worrying. 2) I makes lists (look, even this is a list) 3) I cross things off my list as I do them and then add 5 more for every one I do. 4) I get irritable 5) I get overtired 6) I get mad at myself for getting irritable and overtired and distracted from what I know is really important, i.e. the health and welfare of those I love and also just loving them.
I know I'm not the only one.
Ok, so I'm doing something new and it's kind of working. I am not going 100% Zen in some moment of enlightenment. No. I am talking myself into moments of letting go of control. I say to myself, 'Listen, Lady, you've seen enough of life to know that most things turn out okay in the end.' I feel a little sense of calm. Maybe that lasts 1/2 hour. Then, I go back to list-maker extraordinaire mode. Then, I remember that I am not the most powerful force in the universe and I feel better for a while. Then, I monkey with the to-do list again. And so on.
I notice a lot of us don't start to make changes in how we think or act even though we suspect we could feel differently or better in our lives. Sometimes, we know clearly what we could do to feel a greater sense of well-being, but the changes seem overwhelmingly big. Or, we 'fall off the wagon' with whatever the thing is and we don't get back on for a long time.
Here's my idea. Make the change - even if it's for 5 minutes. This week, facing 'BIG DECISIONS', when I fall off the Zen wagon, I'm just getting back on. Even if it's 10 times in the same day. I feel better.
I, too, imagine that I have some inner 'Zen.' Zen mom, Zen therapist, Zen wife, Zen daughter, Zen driver in traffic, Zen grocery store shopper, Zen help the kids get ready for school person. I imagine that there is this person in me with an intrinsic ability to be spontaneous, to see and understand the big picture, to be accepting of my own foibles and the foibles of others.
Oh yeah, and then there's real life. That other lady is kind of in my imagination.
In my family, we are currently in the midst of making some big decisions - happy ones, but they feel weighty. Some parts feel out of my control. This little sentence: 'some parts feel out of my control' - is a big trigger for me.
Under duress, here's what I do: 1) I start worrying. 2) I makes lists (look, even this is a list) 3) I cross things off my list as I do them and then add 5 more for every one I do. 4) I get irritable 5) I get overtired 6) I get mad at myself for getting irritable and overtired and distracted from what I know is really important, i.e. the health and welfare of those I love and also just loving them.
I know I'm not the only one.
Ok, so I'm doing something new and it's kind of working. I am not going 100% Zen in some moment of enlightenment. No. I am talking myself into moments of letting go of control. I say to myself, 'Listen, Lady, you've seen enough of life to know that most things turn out okay in the end.' I feel a little sense of calm. Maybe that lasts 1/2 hour. Then, I go back to list-maker extraordinaire mode. Then, I remember that I am not the most powerful force in the universe and I feel better for a while. Then, I monkey with the to-do list again. And so on.
I notice a lot of us don't start to make changes in how we think or act even though we suspect we could feel differently or better in our lives. Sometimes, we know clearly what we could do to feel a greater sense of well-being, but the changes seem overwhelmingly big. Or, we 'fall off the wagon' with whatever the thing is and we don't get back on for a long time.
Here's my idea. Make the change - even if it's for 5 minutes. This week, facing 'BIG DECISIONS', when I fall off the Zen wagon, I'm just getting back on. Even if it's 10 times in the same day. I feel better.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
in praise of idleness and imagination
I almost bought a 1978 Ford F100 this week. While out running, I'd seen the truck on the street with a For Sale sign in it. It was beat up and rusted and it looked like something Tim Riggins would drive in Friday Night Lights (one of the best tv shows ever). Something about that truck was calling me. I have never in my life wanted a 'toy' - not like that. I never have given myself the room and frivolity to even consider a toy. Something about that truck was beautiful to me and I wanted it. And my sweet husband (who likes trucks), said, "why don't you call the guy and we'll test drive it."
I felt tingly inside, rejuvenated, just thinking about that truck. I imagined driving down the road to work with my hair blowing in the breeze. I imagined friends calling me to help them move stuff. It would be awesome. I liked the feeling that I surprised myself. When was the last time you surprised yourself? If you're a dutiful adult, it's probably been a long time.
One of the reaons, I think, we don't surprise ourselves, we don't see and feel the adventures and possibilities in life, is that we're too busy, a la the well-written op-ed from Tim Kreider in the past week's NY Times http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?smid=fb-share about the pitfalls of busy-ness, and our false notions that busy-ness equated to our life's meaning and importance. I liked the article, though the tone is kind of scold-y.
I'll give you a couple less scold-y resources in praise of idleness and imagination - one of the best books, most uplifting fun and inspiring I've read- Brenda Ueland's, If You Want To Write. She praises idleness, but distinguishes it from laziness, "But if it is the dreamy idleness that children have, an idleness when you walk alone for a long, long time, or take a long, dreamy time at dressing, or lie in bed at night and thoughts come and go...with all my heart I tell you and reassure you: at such times your are being slowly filled and recharged with warm imagination, with wonderful, living thoughts."
You see, I think our imagination - me imagining myself in some new way, in the truck for example, is something that feeds our health and humanity. And we don't have to imagine ourselves, I think we could imagine anything - I am certain that Steve Jobs was a great imaginer. Our leaders in government would probably be serving us much better, if they were less 'busy' and more imaginative.
I am currently reading another book, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. She was a brain scientist who had a massive stroke in her mid-30s. She writes, "as members of the same human species, you and I share all but .01 percent of identical genetic sequences...Looking around at the diversity within our human race, it is obvious that .01 percent accounts for significant difference in how we look, think, and behave.
I love that! I think that idleness, followed by imagination leads to our soul's expression (if you don't believe in a soul, I really just mean the unique thing that is YOU).
So, you may be disappointed to know that I didn't get the truck. Not that truck. I am certain the right truck for me is in my future. And I also figured out that possessing the truck is not the important thing...it was the surprise of a mind (my mind) that was open to possibility, to imagining myself in a different way, of expressing myself in a different way, and in that imagining, feeling the wind and sun on my face, the open road ahead of me, feeling free.
I felt tingly inside, rejuvenated, just thinking about that truck. I imagined driving down the road to work with my hair blowing in the breeze. I imagined friends calling me to help them move stuff. It would be awesome. I liked the feeling that I surprised myself. When was the last time you surprised yourself? If you're a dutiful adult, it's probably been a long time.
One of the reaons, I think, we don't surprise ourselves, we don't see and feel the adventures and possibilities in life, is that we're too busy, a la the well-written op-ed from Tim Kreider in the past week's NY Times http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?smid=fb-share about the pitfalls of busy-ness, and our false notions that busy-ness equated to our life's meaning and importance. I liked the article, though the tone is kind of scold-y.
I'll give you a couple less scold-y resources in praise of idleness and imagination - one of the best books, most uplifting fun and inspiring I've read- Brenda Ueland's, If You Want To Write. She praises idleness, but distinguishes it from laziness, "But if it is the dreamy idleness that children have, an idleness when you walk alone for a long, long time, or take a long, dreamy time at dressing, or lie in bed at night and thoughts come and go...with all my heart I tell you and reassure you: at such times your are being slowly filled and recharged with warm imagination, with wonderful, living thoughts."
You see, I think our imagination - me imagining myself in some new way, in the truck for example, is something that feeds our health and humanity. And we don't have to imagine ourselves, I think we could imagine anything - I am certain that Steve Jobs was a great imaginer. Our leaders in government would probably be serving us much better, if they were less 'busy' and more imaginative.
I am currently reading another book, My Stroke of Insight by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. She was a brain scientist who had a massive stroke in her mid-30s. She writes, "as members of the same human species, you and I share all but .01 percent of identical genetic sequences...Looking around at the diversity within our human race, it is obvious that .01 percent accounts for significant difference in how we look, think, and behave.
I love that! I think that idleness, followed by imagination leads to our soul's expression (if you don't believe in a soul, I really just mean the unique thing that is YOU).
So, you may be disappointed to know that I didn't get the truck. Not that truck. I am certain the right truck for me is in my future. And I also figured out that possessing the truck is not the important thing...it was the surprise of a mind (my mind) that was open to possibility, to imagining myself in a different way, of expressing myself in a different way, and in that imagining, feeling the wind and sun on my face, the open road ahead of me, feeling free.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
saying what you mean, listening to what's said
How many of us have ever found ourselves being on one end or another of this conversation:
Person 1: "What's wrong?"
Person 2: "Nothing."
Person 1: "Oh, it just seems like something's wrong."
Person 2: "Well, there's not."
How many Person 1's have walked away from that conversation not believing Person 2? How many Person 1's start looking for ways that Person 2 is actually mad, but just not saying it.
What is this all about? Why is this so common? In how many ways is this unhealthy for all of us?
I'm going to posit a theory that I notice from both my own life and from my experience in my work. Person 1 has usually had a formative experience with an original Person 2 who was an indirect communicator.
Let's make this more concrete...if, for example, my first serious boyfriend who I was 'with' for four years from ages 16 to 20 was an indirect communicator, I may have asked, "what's wrong?" sometime when we were driving to a party. "Nothing," he might have said, but then at the party he gave me the silent treatment or flirted with other girls.
Or, for example, if I asked my mother, "what's wrong?" and when I was 9 years old, and she said, "Nothing," but then stomped around the house and slammed kitchen cabinets and was very short-tempered, and this was part of a longstanding pattern, I might have learned to not trust her verbal information and try to read very carefully her non-verbal information.
Some people might say the Person 2 in these examples is 'passive aggressive," and I agree that might be a convenient label. More generously, we might also say that these particular Person 2's are not in touch with their feelings or how their feelings might impact their actions. Or, they might simply be very, very afraid of conflict and unable to directly address whatever is wrong.
So now we have sussed out a little of a common pattern in relationships - the WHY of this situation.
Here is what I'd like to consider to improve the emotional health of Person 1s and some Person 2's everywhere.
Person 1 - listen to me, now. Don't generalize whatever you picked up from your 'passive aggressive' relationship onto other relationships! Live in the present, not the past! You may actually be dealing with a Person 2 who is being honest when they say 'nothing is wrong.' If nothing is wrong (and it probably isn't), you must relax. Stop paying attention to every nuance of Person 2's behavior, voice inflection, breathing. Take them at their word. It's their responsibility to let you know if something is wrong.
Now, if you are a Person 2 who finds that you actually, well, yeah, sometimes take things out on someone you care about without explaining why you're mad, or punish them just a little, or kind of enjoy that they come to you and kind of have to kiss up to you...stop it. Speaking honestly is one of the most important components of self-respect. If someone asks you if something's wrong, you might simply want to answer, ' I don't know. Let me think about it and I'll tell you when I have a clear idea about what's going on.' We don't always have to have an immediate answer to every interpersonal interaction.
If you're a Person 2 who really means nothing is wrong...what can I say...try to have patience with your Person 1. Understand you have a great opportunity to help heal something that is painful.
I must confess that in my life, I have tended to be more of a Person 1 - a caregiver, a reader of non-verbal cues. I don't think I am as much this way now - certainly not in the same ways I was when I was younger and struggling more with interpersonal relationships. Now, I tend to use my skills of intuition, reading non-verbal cues, tone of voice, understanding of human nature, in my work and writing. This is part of my healing. And in the end, much of what I think we all can imagine and hope for, is to really live in the PRESENT and not the past. To understand the moment, our relationships, our loves and ourselves as we are NOW, and not in the shadows of past pains.
Person 1: "What's wrong?"
Person 2: "Nothing."
Person 1: "Oh, it just seems like something's wrong."
Person 2: "Well, there's not."
How many Person 1's have walked away from that conversation not believing Person 2? How many Person 1's start looking for ways that Person 2 is actually mad, but just not saying it.
What is this all about? Why is this so common? In how many ways is this unhealthy for all of us?
I'm going to posit a theory that I notice from both my own life and from my experience in my work. Person 1 has usually had a formative experience with an original Person 2 who was an indirect communicator.
Let's make this more concrete...if, for example, my first serious boyfriend who I was 'with' for four years from ages 16 to 20 was an indirect communicator, I may have asked, "what's wrong?" sometime when we were driving to a party. "Nothing," he might have said, but then at the party he gave me the silent treatment or flirted with other girls.
Or, for example, if I asked my mother, "what's wrong?" and when I was 9 years old, and she said, "Nothing," but then stomped around the house and slammed kitchen cabinets and was very short-tempered, and this was part of a longstanding pattern, I might have learned to not trust her verbal information and try to read very carefully her non-verbal information.
Some people might say the Person 2 in these examples is 'passive aggressive," and I agree that might be a convenient label. More generously, we might also say that these particular Person 2's are not in touch with their feelings or how their feelings might impact their actions. Or, they might simply be very, very afraid of conflict and unable to directly address whatever is wrong.
So now we have sussed out a little of a common pattern in relationships - the WHY of this situation.
Here is what I'd like to consider to improve the emotional health of Person 1s and some Person 2's everywhere.
Person 1 - listen to me, now. Don't generalize whatever you picked up from your 'passive aggressive' relationship onto other relationships! Live in the present, not the past! You may actually be dealing with a Person 2 who is being honest when they say 'nothing is wrong.' If nothing is wrong (and it probably isn't), you must relax. Stop paying attention to every nuance of Person 2's behavior, voice inflection, breathing. Take them at their word. It's their responsibility to let you know if something is wrong.
Now, if you are a Person 2 who finds that you actually, well, yeah, sometimes take things out on someone you care about without explaining why you're mad, or punish them just a little, or kind of enjoy that they come to you and kind of have to kiss up to you...stop it. Speaking honestly is one of the most important components of self-respect. If someone asks you if something's wrong, you might simply want to answer, ' I don't know. Let me think about it and I'll tell you when I have a clear idea about what's going on.' We don't always have to have an immediate answer to every interpersonal interaction.
If you're a Person 2 who really means nothing is wrong...what can I say...try to have patience with your Person 1. Understand you have a great opportunity to help heal something that is painful.
I must confess that in my life, I have tended to be more of a Person 1 - a caregiver, a reader of non-verbal cues. I don't think I am as much this way now - certainly not in the same ways I was when I was younger and struggling more with interpersonal relationships. Now, I tend to use my skills of intuition, reading non-verbal cues, tone of voice, understanding of human nature, in my work and writing. This is part of my healing. And in the end, much of what I think we all can imagine and hope for, is to really live in the PRESENT and not the past. To understand the moment, our relationships, our loves and ourselves as we are NOW, and not in the shadows of past pains.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Like Facebook
I've been intrigued by what facebook has done for our mental health. As a therapist, I cannot tell you how often fb comes up as a topic.
Here's what I notice primarily: Facebook can be socially really rough for some people. It is a source of constant social comparison. At a simple level, "how many friends do I have" compared with other people? In a more nuanced emotional expression, I notice that many people are both cynical of how their 'friends' present themselves publicly as well as jealous and insecure (i.e., her family looks like they have so much fun! Joe goes on better vacations than I do!, or all my friends in Seattle are having the best time together, they're not going to care about being friend with me anymore!). I would say this is easily the most negative outcome for a lot of folks.
But I also see ways fb influences us that are kind of 'in-between' - neither wholly good nor wholly negative... something we can stay aware of and curious about. Sometimes we feel a sense of anxiety or disconnection - fb can be an easy fix to feel connected again. "I burned my chocolate chip cookies!" Or "my kid had the flu" - it's a great feeling to have a bunch of friends offer their quick support - I know I've truly appreciated it, when I've reached out over fb in that way. We also want to share and connect in celebration - I think most of us mostly enjoy the opportunity to celebrate and acknowledge our good friends. On the other end of the spectrum, we may miss out on connecting with people who are with us, physically, including our kids, when we are getting such instant gratification from fb. We feel lulled by sometimes surface relationships and find it easy to ignore people who are there with us. Most people I know who are on fb lament what a time suck it can be. I'm a person who gets on fb 4-6 times a week, but whenever I am, I'm like "Oh my gosh, I've been on here a half hour and I had no idea!"
I also think it's interesting the way fb brings our past into our present. We are easily able to be in community in immediate and accessible ways with people, who even ten years ago would have been sort of marked in the compartment of our 'past.' Recently, I've had a couple really meaningful reconnections with friends, who 'pre-fb' might have been much harder to find. Yet, I wonder if kids graduating from high school in 2012 will find the same meaning in looking at different times in their life that people in my generation and older have had. Again, I don't condemn this or long for an earlier time, I just believe that if fb is not a 'fad' and will be a tool that all of us utilize on into our old age, it will impact our sense of time, nostalgia, and the very meaning of our own 'past.' What will that be like?
In the end, I just want us to be curious and thoughtful about fb. I would love to instruct all my 'young' clients to: STOP COMPARING YOURSELF TO EVERYBODY ON FACEBOOK. If you find that you're one of these people, I recommend scaling way back on your usage. A phrase many of us have heard and is worth repeating is, "you can't compare your insides to somebody else's outsides."
We are all more interesting, complicated, flawed, and gifted than our fb profiles. Thankfully.
Here's what I notice primarily: Facebook can be socially really rough for some people. It is a source of constant social comparison. At a simple level, "how many friends do I have" compared with other people? In a more nuanced emotional expression, I notice that many people are both cynical of how their 'friends' present themselves publicly as well as jealous and insecure (i.e., her family looks like they have so much fun! Joe goes on better vacations than I do!, or all my friends in Seattle are having the best time together, they're not going to care about being friend with me anymore!). I would say this is easily the most negative outcome for a lot of folks.
But I also see ways fb influences us that are kind of 'in-between' - neither wholly good nor wholly negative... something we can stay aware of and curious about. Sometimes we feel a sense of anxiety or disconnection - fb can be an easy fix to feel connected again. "I burned my chocolate chip cookies!" Or "my kid had the flu" - it's a great feeling to have a bunch of friends offer their quick support - I know I've truly appreciated it, when I've reached out over fb in that way. We also want to share and connect in celebration - I think most of us mostly enjoy the opportunity to celebrate and acknowledge our good friends. On the other end of the spectrum, we may miss out on connecting with people who are with us, physically, including our kids, when we are getting such instant gratification from fb. We feel lulled by sometimes surface relationships and find it easy to ignore people who are there with us. Most people I know who are on fb lament what a time suck it can be. I'm a person who gets on fb 4-6 times a week, but whenever I am, I'm like "Oh my gosh, I've been on here a half hour and I had no idea!"
I also think it's interesting the way fb brings our past into our present. We are easily able to be in community in immediate and accessible ways with people, who even ten years ago would have been sort of marked in the compartment of our 'past.' Recently, I've had a couple really meaningful reconnections with friends, who 'pre-fb' might have been much harder to find. Yet, I wonder if kids graduating from high school in 2012 will find the same meaning in looking at different times in their life that people in my generation and older have had. Again, I don't condemn this or long for an earlier time, I just believe that if fb is not a 'fad' and will be a tool that all of us utilize on into our old age, it will impact our sense of time, nostalgia, and the very meaning of our own 'past.' What will that be like?
In the end, I just want us to be curious and thoughtful about fb. I would love to instruct all my 'young' clients to: STOP COMPARING YOURSELF TO EVERYBODY ON FACEBOOK. If you find that you're one of these people, I recommend scaling way back on your usage. A phrase many of us have heard and is worth repeating is, "you can't compare your insides to somebody else's outsides."
We are all more interesting, complicated, flawed, and gifted than our fb profiles. Thankfully.
Friday, May 18, 2012
allowing other people to change
I've always said my son is hot-tempered. He has red hair and since he was a toddler has known how to tantrum with the best of them. As he's gotten older, of course this looks different than throwing himself on the grocery store floor and screaming, but still. I've worried for him that he wouldn't find a way to control and focus his anger/aggression or even just loosen up on it. So, I was amazed and my heart filled this week when I got to see him spar for one of the first times in karate. He was awesome. He was focused, unafraid, but controlled. He kept his sense of humor, even when he got hurt. With the guidance of their teacher, he and his sparring partner helped one another become better. One of the reasons it was so cool for me is that I saw how my definition of my child, this "hot head" might not be so accurate anymore. He is changing and as a mom I can see that the qualities of focus and sense of humor together will help him in his whole life.
It reminded me, in a way, of a time when my sister was about 19 and I was 23. She was in college and I lived in DC. I had always been a pretty 'mature' older sister...rather parental toward her. One day we were talking on the phone and she got irritated with me (I still remember where I was sitting - at my office desk for "Special Events of Union Station") and she yelled, "I'm not a child anymore! It's time you stopped treating me like one." It was a total lightbulb. She had changed and I wasn't seeing it and I was treating her in old ways that didn't work anymore.
We do this all the time with people. Our parents, our spouses, our friends. We define them in certain ways - some unflattering - "she's the friend who never calls back" "she's the wife who is critical." Sometimes people change and we're so stuck in the past that we don't see what's right in front of us.
I remember telling someone a few years ago that a man I'd known for a long time was an 'a**hole.' Then I thought what a damning thing that is to say. Maybe he's not an a**hole anymore, I thought. I checked it out. Guess what? He wasn't an a**hole. Maybe he never had been and it was my lens of looking at the world that made him seem such. Well, live and learn.
I recommend observing. For a little bit, listen and watch people you are in relationship with as if you were just getting to know them. Maybe they've changed and you haven't noticed. Just like we all want to be seen and known for who we are, so do they.
It reminded me, in a way, of a time when my sister was about 19 and I was 23. She was in college and I lived in DC. I had always been a pretty 'mature' older sister...rather parental toward her. One day we were talking on the phone and she got irritated with me (I still remember where I was sitting - at my office desk for "Special Events of Union Station") and she yelled, "I'm not a child anymore! It's time you stopped treating me like one." It was a total lightbulb. She had changed and I wasn't seeing it and I was treating her in old ways that didn't work anymore.
We do this all the time with people. Our parents, our spouses, our friends. We define them in certain ways - some unflattering - "she's the friend who never calls back" "she's the wife who is critical." Sometimes people change and we're so stuck in the past that we don't see what's right in front of us.
I remember telling someone a few years ago that a man I'd known for a long time was an 'a**hole.' Then I thought what a damning thing that is to say. Maybe he's not an a**hole anymore, I thought. I checked it out. Guess what? He wasn't an a**hole. Maybe he never had been and it was my lens of looking at the world that made him seem such. Well, live and learn.
I recommend observing. For a little bit, listen and watch people you are in relationship with as if you were just getting to know them. Maybe they've changed and you haven't noticed. Just like we all want to be seen and known for who we are, so do they.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
say anything
One of the most absurd memories I have from being a hospice social worker is going to start out sounding rather callous. Please bear with me. It was when I got a nurse's report that one of my male patients in his nineties might be planning to kill himself. His family feared it and didn't know what to do. So, the nurse calls me and asks me to go do a suicide assessment.
I find the man in bed, nearly too weak to get up, and very hard of hearing. A suicide assessment can't be that nuanced a thing...it's not a matter you really tiptoe around. This one lacked any subtlety whatsoever. Here's what I had to do: get in bed with the 90 year old man and shout in his ear, "ARE YOU PLANNING TO KILL YOURSELF?!"
This is what he answered, "Are you one of those goddammed do-gooders?!?"
That makes me laugh even now, 6 years later. I certainly hadn't expected that answer.
He told me he'd thought about killing himself, which for many patients with a terminal diagnosis, is perfectly normal. He didn't do it. And while I could tell he'd been a difficult and imposing character for his family for his whole life, I did admire orneriness.
But this post isn't about suicidality. It's about how I've found my life transformed because I've been forced to have so many difficult conversations with people. I've had to discuss taboos, name the 'elephant in the room,' strong arm people to go to the hospital, challenge many an 'old man' (not easy for many of us who grew up to respect our elders.) But, it's really been a wonderful learning experience for me, because what I've learned and been able to take into my personal life is that you can really say anything - it's just how you say it.
Many of us have imaginary conversations in our heads because we've been hurt by someone, are worried about something, or assumed the other guy was thinking something but we're not sure. In my private practice, I see that many interpersonal hurts and grudges are perpetuated needlessly because many people are reluctant to check in with others about difficult things.
Here's what I've learned about saying hard things:
1) Be curious. Don't assume you know. Ask, rather than make an accusations.
2) Have a sense of humor, not a sarcastic one, but a gentle sense of humor and be able to laugh at yourself.
3) Have a loving, compassionate intention. Hard conversations seem to be called for most urgently when we are angry or worried. Starting from a place of saying to yourself, "I am a person just trying to do my best in the world and most likely this other guy is just a person trying to do his best in the world too." You have compassion for yourself and the other person before even starting the conversation.
This is not all there is to it, and I know I will continue to learn, but what talking with people about difficult things has done for me is open up my relationships to be deeper and more real. I don't hold little grudges and just keep my relationships on the surface in order to protect myself. I also find myself less shy about expressing my love and gratitude for people in my life...this can feel vulnerable and even difficult for some people too, but for me, I've never regretted it.
I find the man in bed, nearly too weak to get up, and very hard of hearing. A suicide assessment can't be that nuanced a thing...it's not a matter you really tiptoe around. This one lacked any subtlety whatsoever. Here's what I had to do: get in bed with the 90 year old man and shout in his ear, "ARE YOU PLANNING TO KILL YOURSELF?!"
This is what he answered, "Are you one of those goddammed do-gooders?!?"
That makes me laugh even now, 6 years later. I certainly hadn't expected that answer.
He told me he'd thought about killing himself, which for many patients with a terminal diagnosis, is perfectly normal. He didn't do it. And while I could tell he'd been a difficult and imposing character for his family for his whole life, I did admire orneriness.
But this post isn't about suicidality. It's about how I've found my life transformed because I've been forced to have so many difficult conversations with people. I've had to discuss taboos, name the 'elephant in the room,' strong arm people to go to the hospital, challenge many an 'old man' (not easy for many of us who grew up to respect our elders.) But, it's really been a wonderful learning experience for me, because what I've learned and been able to take into my personal life is that you can really say anything - it's just how you say it.
Many of us have imaginary conversations in our heads because we've been hurt by someone, are worried about something, or assumed the other guy was thinking something but we're not sure. In my private practice, I see that many interpersonal hurts and grudges are perpetuated needlessly because many people are reluctant to check in with others about difficult things.
Here's what I've learned about saying hard things:
1) Be curious. Don't assume you know. Ask, rather than make an accusations.
2) Have a sense of humor, not a sarcastic one, but a gentle sense of humor and be able to laugh at yourself.
3) Have a loving, compassionate intention. Hard conversations seem to be called for most urgently when we are angry or worried. Starting from a place of saying to yourself, "I am a person just trying to do my best in the world and most likely this other guy is just a person trying to do his best in the world too." You have compassion for yourself and the other person before even starting the conversation.
This is not all there is to it, and I know I will continue to learn, but what talking with people about difficult things has done for me is open up my relationships to be deeper and more real. I don't hold little grudges and just keep my relationships on the surface in order to protect myself. I also find myself less shy about expressing my love and gratitude for people in my life...this can feel vulnerable and even difficult for some people too, but for me, I've never regretted it.
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