It's OK To Laugh - Especially at Yourself or Death (and Sex) Part Two

By age 90, my grandmother, not infrequently, was asked, "What's the secret to living a long life."  I remember her saying, "You've got to have a sense of humor and faith in God."

Myself, I'm a big believer in listening to old people.  Not because oldness makes people necessarily wise, but they have a potentially better shot at being wise.  (But that makes me think of a young client I once worked with - when I asked her something like, "Is it one of your hopes to gain wisdom?"  She replied, "Not really.")

I don't tend to analyze humor, but I often have to answer the question, "Isn't your job depressing?"  And I am then forced to think about why my job isn't depressing and why I think my clients don't find meeting with me depressing, and I think it's because I try to have a sense of humor.

My friend and colleague, Heather Raznick and I gave a presentation a few years back on using humor and play as therapeutic interventions in sex therapy and grief therapy.  We had the best time looking for video clips to illustrate how humor gets to something true in both of these areas where people often feel so heavy and serious.  Here's my favorite video clip about grief from an old episode of Roseanne (thanks to my friend, Ellen, for directing me to this).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FtfUKR1b0E

There is a lot of heavy stuff going on in the world, and it's the whole shebang - personal, political, sociological, psychological, scientific.  It's oppression, disease, abuse, death, violence, fear, war.

I know many people who are 'fighting the good fight' to try to leave the world kinder, safer, and more free than when they got here.  I also know many people who are fighting the good fight just in their own lives- trying to suss through deteriorating relationships, dealing with a child with special needs, coping with a medical diagnosis, grieving the death of the person they love most.  In all of this, I notice that some people keep a sense of humor and some people don't.  Maybe some people never had it to begin with.  Some people can laugh, but they can't laugh at themselves.

Several weeks ago, Saturday Night Live satirized this impulse in a HILARIOUS (to me) 'advertisement' for Levi's Woke Jeans. Levi's Woke

The longer I live, the more I am suspecting that a key to a happier life is the ability to genuinely laugh at yourself and not take yourself too seriously.  I don't mean being self-deprecating.  I mean cultivating a way to hold in your brain two opposing things at the same time:  You are important, you are meaningful, you are beloved AND you are one thread in the fabric of a vast universe.

Basically, you and I are totally awesome and totally absurd at the same time.  I think that's why the Roseanne clip is so funny - the absurdity of Jackie yelling into the phone "Dad's dead!"  It's so jarring and true and the fact that she couldn't make herself understood!

Absurdity is it!  Have you ever explained to your child 'where babies come from?'  Then you know exactly what I mean - that's why sex is so often funny.  The fact that babies are made from a penis going in a vagina is totally weird.  And when kids learn this fact, they get it immediately.  The thing they don't understand fully and maybe we adults don't often let ourselves get it either, is that it's totally miraculous too - it feels good and you can MAKE A HUMAN LIFE.  Holy shit!  That's so amazing and weird.  And to my point...just like us. 

I remember one of my hospice patients, Hattie.  An African-American lady in her 80s with a strong faith and sense of humor.  Her biggest complaint about dealing with her late stage cancer, was her constipation, which caused her pain.  She said she was not afraid to die and I believed her (I didn't believe many people when they said that...and not many people said it.)

When I would meet with her, she would sit on her bedside commode, totally unashamed.  She'd try to poop and she'd hand me a can of Glade air freshener and we would talk.  When she farted she would giggle and order me to "Spray.  Spray."  We laughed together.  It was absurd and necessary and tender and true to be together in such an intimate way.

I know another lady who doesn't take herself too seriously, but who is seriously awesome.  She is in her mid 70s and has completed two pilgrimages in the past two years - hundreds of miles trekking through Europe.  She told me the story of a years ago road trip with her daughter to Indiana.  They are from Missouri and they spoke in Southern accents the whole way.  Switching between a Georgia drawl and a Tennessee twang.  When she told me this story, we laughed so hard!  This is exactly something I would do with my kids too.

I have a part of me that is sorta Buddhist.  My sorta Buddhist part knows that a lot of our seriousness is ego.  In my experience our egos lead us to many un-truths where we get stuck - our ego tells us things like: 1) I am the one that has to do x, y, or z; 2) This person's actions are about me; 3) I am the problem; 4) I know the way things are supposed to be.  Try talking in a Southern accent or British.  I think you might find it helps put your ego in perspective.

Ok, folks.  It's Friday.  We've witnessed another week of news - the aftermath of another mass shooting, an election, more revelations about famous men abusing women and men with less power.  We've worried about our kids, our parents, our marriages.  We've had tough conversations.  We've been disappointed.  We've been pleased.  People have done surprising and kind things in our lives.  We have given hugs and celebrated birthdays.  This is life.  It is big and it is little.  We are important and we are silly.  May we do serious work and hold it all with a little lighter touch.

To a**hole or not - how I spend my time and words (after a thought-provoking question from a friend)

A dear friend wrote me recently after reading my last blog post and asked me this question:..."what about the people who don't care if they do wrong and aren't looking to correct or make amends for their mistakes?"  I wrote back and said something like, "well, now you're asking me about a**holes and I need to think more clearly about what I think of them or how I deal with them."  So this post is my take on that.

It seems like it's timely because there have been several of them in the news lately.  Donald Trump and Bill Cosby come to mind.  But before I say anything more about that, I hope you'll indulge me in a little story.

About two years ago, I was driving down my street, which happens to be a pretty busy thoroughfare.  My kids, who were in 2nd and 4th grades at the time were complaining loudly - it was after school, they were hungry and we were heading to therapy.  And despite being children of a therapist, they look at therapy like most kids who have to go to therapy look at it - basically as torture.  But the reason we were going was that our family was in a terrible crisis.   My husband and I were separated and it looked like we were heading for divorce.  I was working, taking care of them, and thinking that my marriage and life as I had hoped it would be was over.  I was almost at my wit's end.

So the kids are complaining (maybe one of them was crying even?!) in the backseat and we were running barely on time for therapy.  And there was longstanding street construction on our road that entailed a detour, which was totally a nuisance at that moment.  I knew the construction project was almost complete and it was around 5 pm on a darkening October day.  I noticed the truck in front of me going straight down the road rather than taking the detour.  Multi-tasking, I continued to encourage and/or berate my kids in the backseat while making the split second decision that the construction zone must be re-opened and that since the truck in front of me was going through, I could too and thank God, because that will shave 2 minutes off my drive time and be ever so much more convenient for me.

But I was wrong.  The truck was a construction truck and in fact, was entering the work zone to work.  An older gentleman from one of the neighborhood homes happened to be out in his yard as I realized my mistake and began the process of a 10-point turn to get myself out of the work area.  I soon saw that he was screaming at me from his yard, something like, "Don't you read?!?   The road is closed!  I'm sick of you people who think you're above the rules!!"

"I'm sorry!"  I sheepishly grin, using my cute lady persona.  "I'm just doing the best I can."

"No, you're not.  You're not doing the best you can!"  he yells back, face contorting in rage.

Now, I'm offended.  Screw him.  Doesn't he know I'm probably getting divorced, my children are miserable and I'm driving them to therapy after a full day of work?!

"I'm sorry you're such an angry person."  I retort indignantly, as the kids are hiding on the floor of the backseat totally embarrassed by my talking back to this man.

(Most of you know, the larger picture ends happily because my husband and I were able to reconcile and not only repair but renew our marriage.  And our kids are wonderful and goofy like kids are supposed to be and we all get support from friends, family, therapists and community and we are all in a much stronger place to give that support to others too.  But this is not a story about reconciliation and renewal.)

This is a story about being an a**hole.  So, when I think about being an a**hole, I think it means saying or doing whatever you want, whatever feels good or easy in the moment without care or concern about how it impacts others.  In the story above - I was kind of an a**hole, even though I felt justified in the moment.  Though my neighbor could have been more gracious toward me, and must less a**hole-ish himself, I did not take into account what it must be like to have construction in front of your home for 6 months, or what it must be like to have the confusion and noise of unheeding drivers right next to your home.  I felt that my personal misery gave me the right to do what I wanted without regard to him.  Or hoping I wouldn't get caught.  I don't beat myself up about this, I feel compassionate toward myself in that moment.  And I also feel compassionate toward him.

So, here's where I come down on "What about people who make mistakes and just don't care.  What about people who do wrong again and again and hurt others?":  Spend as little time focusing on those people as possible.   If I focus too much on people who are doing wrong, maybe I feel temporarily superior.  Maybe I feel good because I'm on the side of being 'right' and they are on the side of being 'wrong.'  But chances are, if I think too much about them or my rage about them, I start to become more selfish, more intolerant, more cruel.

In many ways, I am one of the least naive people I know.  I have worked with children who have endured terrible cruelty at the hands of people who were supposed to take care of them and love them.  I have seen people kill themselves with drugs and witnessed the wake that leaves behind for their families.  I've been in homes where people don't have enough money for food or medicine for their children.   I cannot deny the existence of bullies like Bill Cosby or Donald Trump in the world.

But, I don't even like the word a**hole, though I guess I've used it for some effect while I've written this.  It reduces people to objects.  Even a person who embodies the worst of humanity is still a person.  If I reduce them to a stereotype or a slur, I make them an object in the same way that I am pained that women, children, and in our society, non-white people are made objects.  When people are made objects, all sorts of heinous things are done to them.  I don't want to add to that.  It's all inter-related, so I must do my part

Here's my answer, Friend, long though it is:  Let's think more about the front end than the 'back end'.  If I am kind and you are kind, love grows bigger in this world.  I think that's the best we can do.

Angels with A**holes and God in a Google Search

I’ve written before about my professor, Reverend Beverly Asbury, Chaplain from Vanderbilt University, circa 1990s.  He was my Religious Studies professor in undergraduate school and I adore him.  I probably can’t measure the influence he’s had on me since I met him when I was 19 or 20 years old. One of his bits of wisdom, probably an offhand comment on his part, but something that made a profound impact on me was when he said, ‘You know, we humans are ALL just angels with assholes.’ 

I’ve found that to be one of the truest statements I’ve ever heard.  Each of us has potential to be an angel of mercy and compassion, a symbol of hope, an act of love and giving.  Yet, each of us is bound by our humanity.  We are bodies.  Sometimes we are full of shit.  We are transcendent and just pretty regular at the same time. 

I am learning something about myself and in the end, maybe I just want to put it in words, because that’s what I like to do.  In my life, I have witnessed selfless kindness, unimaginable courage, creative compassion, love overcoming fear (not to mention overcoming rules), and humanity enduring with humor and love even in the face of such horror as the Holocaust. 

And I believe that when you see other people, you have the opportunity to see the ‘angel’ in them.  The holy in them.  If there’s holy in us, I feel that there is holy out there, too.  That’s just what I believe.  Somewhat along the lines of Albert Einstein, who said,  “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

So, for me, as I get older, one of the intrinsic pieces of my own ‘mental and emotional health,’ as I summarize in my ‘ google bio’, is my spiritual life.  When we talk about spirituality, nothing is more frustrating that the limitation of words, but let me give it a try.  Even as a little kid, I had lots of questions about God – “How could God always have been there?  What came before God?”  My mom even invited the minister over for dinner to talk with me about it (a terrible explanation – ‘take it on faith’, was what I was told.)  Other questions – “why should I want to be a good person, just to go to heaven?  Is that really being a good person, if I just want some reward?”  And I took religious studies classes in college.  Death and Dying classes when they were offered.  So, maybe it’s no surprise that this is where I am today.

Maybe you have an inkling that you’d like to pay more attention to your spiritual life?  If you do, found or been recommended a number of online resources that create access to information, ideas, and community and I thought you might like to take a look too.  I hope you find this helpful:

 

Spirituality and Practice -  www.spiritualityandpractice.com  - can range from pop to academic, but pretty straight up and diverse theology.  I look at it every day and am amazed as the breadth and depth of information, inspiration and continuing education opportunities.

  

Patheos –  www.patheos.com  If you want to get an unfiltered universe of every type of belief/opinion/pop culture blog community this is where to go.  Every group from Pagan to Evangelical Christian from Muslim to Unitarian Universalist is well represented here and there is no editorial filter or preference.  You may not like or agree with everything you read, but everyone is welcome here.

Belief -  www.globalpost.com/globalpost-blogs/belief  -  This is part of Global Post – an American online newsource that focuses on global news.  This page is where religion and news intersect, primarily through current news events.

On Being with Krista Tippett -  www.onbeing.org Her public radio show is available on podcast here.  Diverse and thoughtful, a broad-ranging understanding of spirituality that encompasses science as well as belief.

Daily om -   www.dailyom.com:  kind of new-agey/Buddhist writing.  Something to think about in small nuggets.  

everybody's under pressure - but how do you release it?

My clients are really, really good people.  In fact, I think I probably have nicer, kinder, more compassionate, and plain old good clients than any other therapist in St. Louis and maybe in the United States.  I say that only partially tongue in cheek.  I think there's a little bit of truth to it, and also a little bit of my own bias.  Of course I'm biased - I've gotten to  know them and when you get to know people, without judgment, you get to see how awesome and beautiful they are on the inside.  I think of my clients as both trying to enjoy or get more fulfillment out of their lives and/or find ways of coping with life's difficulties and grief.  But this isn't just my clients, this is the human condition - both longing for fulfillment and trying to triumph over challenges and times of sadness or pain

When we try very hard to do and be our best, whether as employees, as parents, as friends, as spouses, sometimes the pressure builds up and often we find release valves for all that pressure without stopping to think about it.  Maybe we yell at our spouse or kids, maybe we get drunk/high, maybe we are promiscuous, maybe we overexcercise, maybe we overeat.  Sometimes we find healthy ways to release pressure to - we go hiking, write a poem, watch a sad or really funny movie, spend an hour with our friend or sister on the phone. 

I think most of us, whether we're in therapy or not, would benefit from answering the questions - what are my release valves?  How do I try to let go of some of the pressures of life?  Are these the release valves I want to have?  Are they helping or hurting me?

When we can answer these questions fully and truthfully, we can be more aware and make sure the choices we are making are the ones we really want to make.  We can understand some of our actions, even our actions we don't like, in a more compassionate way.  And, we can appreciate our time hiking or painting or going to listen to our favorie band, in a deeper way. 

On a somewhat other note, I'd like to share a quote I received on email today from Pema Chodron, a Buddhist monk.  She's written many books and I subscribe to a weekly 'thought' exerpted from one of her publications (here's the link http://www.shambhala.com/heartadvice/?utm_medium=email&utm_source=HA%201/19/12  ): 

BEGIN WITH KINDNESS TO YOURSELF

We are all in this together. So when you realize that you’re talking to yourself, label it “thinking” and notice your tone of voice. Let it be compassionate and gentle and humorous. Then you’ll be changing old stuck patterns that are shared by the whole human race. Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves.

Have a good week, everybody!

did Ma Ingalls ever have any fun?

Like many people, when my first child was born, it took me a very short while to figure out that my life had drastically changed.  I remember a big realization while doing dishes:  Dishes have to be done.  Oh yes, and laundry must be done.  And folded.  Also, things must be clean in the house.  Also, more dishes must be done and put away and more laundry needs washing and folding.  No more procrastinating.  No more blowing off chores to watch Oprah.  No more getting a cold and lying on the couch all evening.  Here's more or less what I began telling myself:  It all depends on me.  Everything seemed to suddenly become very serious, with serious consequences.

So, you might think this is weird, but I made up a game for myself to stay motivated.  I thought, "Katy, you're in Pioneer Times now.  All your chores and tasks are as necessary to our family's survival as anything Ma Ingalls ever did."  Banish from your mind, "I'm just too tired."  Maybe that's not SO weird - I know another mom who used to pretend it was WWII and her husband was a soldier on the European Front. 

As I've mentioned, I love imagination as a tool for coping.  Frankly, for me, being a mom to infants was a time I needed both imagination and coping.  This  internal game of pretend worked okay as my kids were toddlers, too.

But, I think it backfired in a couple ways.  Actually, I think we all give ourselves certain messages and/or create certain thoughts during times of stress or periods of our lives and these thoughts don't serve us well later.  I work with a lot of women and I see that many of us spend time trying to overcome the following thoughts:  1)  If I don't do it, no one will.  2) I can't rest or relax because it will appear that I am not taking what I do seriously. 

This eventually leads to bigger problems - not thoughts exactly, but a way behaviours are manifest - I don't know how to have fun, I don't know what gives me pleasure, and finally, the things I do to cope are pleasurable in the short run, but unhealthy in the long run. 

As I've been getting my thoughts together for this post, I heard Toni Bernhard, the author of a book, How to Be Sick, talking on Morning Edition - she has some kind of long term illness that keeps her often at home and more often than she'd like, in bed.  She's found comfort in a Buddhist meditation practice (more info at http://www.npr.org/2011/01/31/132675079/learning-to-live-a-full-life-with-chronic-illness) and quoted a Buddhist saying, "If you don't have compassion for yourself, your compassion is incomplete." 

I love it!  One way to have compassion for yourself is to say nicer things to yourself and allow yourself to enjoy life.

Sometimes I begin  to remind myself of George Costanza from Seinfeld - there's a great episode in which, as usual, he's having difficulties at work - if I'm remembering right, he has a job, but isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing exactly.  He discovers that if he just walks around looking harried, worried, sighing, and moves at a quick pace, everyone thinks he's the hardest working guy around.

Okay, could this sometimes be me?

Let's be honest.  I'm not living on the prairie in the 1800s.  These days, I'm working on telling myself different things, things like:  It's okay to ask for help.  It's okay if the house doesn't look perfect when the babysitter comes over.  It's okay to watch Oprah's 25th Year: Behind the Scenes in a two to three hour marathon.  Why not?  It's okay to enjoy the little things in life.  And it's probably okay to take myself less seriously, too.

The beginning...

This blog is something I've been interested in doing for a while and I am ridiculously nervous to sit down and write my first entry. What's my intention? Why Thirteen Ways? What is going to happen here?

I'll start with Thirteen Ways; it's from the title of Wallace Stevens' poem, Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird , which is one of the first poems I ever loved. One aspect of the poem that is important to me and that I hope to generally convey here is that a blackbird can look like and mean and be many things. So can a poem. So can a life event. So can a person. So can mental health.

I hope this blog will be a vehicle to share, briefly, my own thoughts about - for lack of better words - "mental health," to sift through a little bit of media that I've found meaningful and that makes comment on the human condition. I'd like to encourage dialogue about the aspects of life that hold particular interest for me - creativity, compassion, working for peace, and spirituality.

In Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, by Shunryu Suzuki the prologue states, "In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few." So, let that be about all I'll say. This writing project is full of possibilities and I hope you enjoy the journey with me.

To finish up this entry, I'd like to make a book recommendation: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman . It's a young adult book that won the Newberry Award in the past couple of years. It was given to my son as a Halloween gift and luckily I took a close look at it and realized it was too scary for a first grader, but just right for me. I love the hero's journey and this book adds to that tradition, creating a world that is full of magic, fear, kindness, courage. Hope you like it.