If you've been following Thirteen Ways over the past few years, you'll notice that I write about once every two weeks, typically. Every so often, my frequency increases, but believe it or not, it takes me about 1 - 2 hours to write a blog post, so that is a rather cumbersome time commitment when you have work and family life and activities and then you throw in writing on the side.
You also may have noticed that I haven't posted for almost a month now. What a guilt producer for me! I love writing and I love to share my thoughts and connect with other people through writing.
Yet, different times of our life call for different actions. The action that I have decided to take is to put Thirteen Ways on 'recess' - I thought about calling it a hiatus, but when I did a thesaurus search, I saw that recess could work and who doesn't like recess?
Please stay tuned - who knows when I'll be back. Thanks for your support, comments, and connections.
I am in a time of focusing on the tasks at hand, rather than transmitting words of wisdom about lessons learned. Maybe you also are in a time period where you need to just do tasks. We can do tasks (diapering babies, doing dishes, make our long commute to work) in a way that can bring us meaning. That's where I am right now. Words of wisdom? Maybe later! Below I am including a reading I liked from the Spirituality and Practice website I like http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/books/excerpts.php?id=14018
An Excerpt from The Inner Experience: Notes on Contemplation by Thomas Merton
In his last published work, Thomas Merton sings the praises of the contemplative life. Here is an excerpt on attention.
"The life of contemplation in action and purity of heart is, then, a
life of great simplicity and inner liberty. One is not seeking anything
special or demanding any particular satisfaction. One is content with
what is. One does what is to be done, and the more concrete it is, the
better. One is not worried about the results of what is done. One is
content to have good motives and not too anxious about making mistakes.
In this way one can swim with the living stream of life and remain at
every moment in contact with God, in the hiddenness and ordinariness of
the present moment with its obvious task.
"At such times, walking down a street, sweeping a floor, washing
dishes, hoeing beans, reading a book, taking a stroll in the woods — all
can be enriched with contemplation and with the obscure sense of the
presence of God. This contemplation is all the more pure in that one
does not 'look' to see if it is there. Such 'walking with God' is one of
the simplest and most secure ways of living a life of prayer, and one
of the safest. It never attracts anybody's attention, least of all the
attention of him who lives it. And he soon learns not to want to see anything special in himself. This is the price of his liberty.
"It has been said above that such people enjoy 'graces akin to
contemplation' because they are never fully conscious of their
'contemplative state.' But it must not be thought that they cannot be
real mystics. Indeed, a genuine mystical life may be lived in these
conditions. The mystical graces given to such souls may be of an active
character, but there is a strong undercurrent of contemplative
intuition. This will remain pure and vital as long as one is careful not
to lose himself in activity, not to become preoccupied with results,
and not to lose his purity of intention. Whether in active or passive
contemplation, purity of heart is always the guardian of contemplative
truth.”
Showing posts with label mindfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mindfulness. Show all posts
Monday, May 6, 2013
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
anger is a tooth
When I was still in social work school back in 1999, I was tasked by my practicum at Kids In The Middle with teaching a court mandated class on co-parenting for divorcing parents in the city of St. Louis. My supervisor and friend, Jen taught it with me. We were about 27 years old and neither of us were married. Nor had children. We were not stupid enough to think we knew exactly what we were talking about, but we did think we were kind of awesome considering the circumstances. I remember walking away from the class thinking, "I actually think that went pretty well.' We must have had some really nice, kind people we were speaking too, because I can only imagine what we looked like to our 'students' - there is no other way to say it - we were young, inexperienced white girls with a good deal of guts, but no street cred at all.
And just like with so much of life, we don't always know where our lessons will come from and which ones will stick with us. Here's one that continues with me today, 13 years later - it was part of the curriculum - something I was supposed to be teaching on those Tuesday nights so many years ago. It's so simple, it's almost childlike:
Anger is a tooth with two roots: sadness and fear.
If you think about it, almost every time you're angry you can examine the roots of that anger in sadness and fear. When my kids are bugging the hell out of each other and I finally lose my temper with them, I am sad, wondering if they will ever get along or I am fearful that I will not have a moments peace or I am fearful one of them will get hurt by the other. When I am mad at the guy who cut me off driving, at root, I am scared I will get hurt or scared that I will be late. When I have a client who is angry with her father, it may be because she is afraid she will never have the relationship with her father that she longs for. When I talk with a client who is angry with his wife, it may be because he is really sad that he doesn't know how to ask for his needs to be met.
I believe it is Thich Nhat Hanh who says that living with anger is like living in Hell. I don't think all anger is bad - in fact I've written about it before. I've read that anger is like a warning sign, a flashing light that tells us, "Pay attention. There has been a violation of some kind." Once we pay attention, I don't think we need to just throw out the anger and tell ourselves that if we're emotionally healthy we just 'get over it.'
But, I do recommend sitting with the anger for a few minutes before you respond. Try imagining that tooth. What are the roots. Are you sad? Are you fearful? If you have time, write down all the parts of that situation that might make you sad or fearful. I guarantee that when you respond, when you address the violation, you will be addressing it in a more honest way and you will feel better about how you handled that situation.
And just like with so much of life, we don't always know where our lessons will come from and which ones will stick with us. Here's one that continues with me today, 13 years later - it was part of the curriculum - something I was supposed to be teaching on those Tuesday nights so many years ago. It's so simple, it's almost childlike:
Anger is a tooth with two roots: sadness and fear.
If you think about it, almost every time you're angry you can examine the roots of that anger in sadness and fear. When my kids are bugging the hell out of each other and I finally lose my temper with them, I am sad, wondering if they will ever get along or I am fearful that I will not have a moments peace or I am fearful one of them will get hurt by the other. When I am mad at the guy who cut me off driving, at root, I am scared I will get hurt or scared that I will be late. When I have a client who is angry with her father, it may be because she is afraid she will never have the relationship with her father that she longs for. When I talk with a client who is angry with his wife, it may be because he is really sad that he doesn't know how to ask for his needs to be met.
I believe it is Thich Nhat Hanh who says that living with anger is like living in Hell. I don't think all anger is bad - in fact I've written about it before. I've read that anger is like a warning sign, a flashing light that tells us, "Pay attention. There has been a violation of some kind." Once we pay attention, I don't think we need to just throw out the anger and tell ourselves that if we're emotionally healthy we just 'get over it.'
But, I do recommend sitting with the anger for a few minutes before you respond. Try imagining that tooth. What are the roots. Are you sad? Are you fearful? If you have time, write down all the parts of that situation that might make you sad or fearful. I guarantee that when you respond, when you address the violation, you will be addressing it in a more honest way and you will feel better about how you handled that situation.
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, February 14, 2012
loosening up and letting go
In my ongoing quest to practice what I preach and not be a hypocrite when it comes to mindfulness, self-care, non-dualism, etc, etc, I made the New Year's resolution to explore some aspects of spirituality and philosophy in more experiential ways. In that vein, I decided a couple weeks ago to take my first yoga class in 5 years.
It was on a Thursday morning, a time I don't usually work. I have, for the first time in 8 years, ostensibly, a large swath of time on that day that I can do whatever I want. Driving to the yoga class, I had some anxiety. I have to turn off my phone for an hour and a half in class and this isn't something I normally do. Even in my work day, I have my phone on silent, but check every hour to see if there have been any urgent calls or calls from family. I talked myself out of this anxiety, "Katy," I said to myself, "That is just your anxiety. It's time to let that go." (See...trying to practice what I preach, gentle self talk).
When I got to the class, the very earth-Mothery instructor said, "Hey, we've sort of spontaneously made this class 2 hours long - will that be okay?"
"Sure." I answered, but internally my anxiety ratcheted up again. Again, I spoke to myself, "Everything is perfectly fine, Katy. You may take this class for two hours. This is time that you do have."
I didn't feel that great during the class. When it was done I checked my calls and had 14 missed calls. Yes - 14. One from the school nurse and several from my husband, sort of like this, "Hey honey...where are you? Our daughter is sick and I guess I'm going to go pick her up? Where are you?"
For the first time since 2009, I had a kid sick enough to get a call from the nurse's office and it happened while I was in my big moment of spiritual woo woo/New Year's resolution-ness.
What can I say? I cried. I cried because I felt like a cruddy mom and wife who was off shirking her responsibilities and I felt simultaneously resentful that I couldn't take one damn yoga class without the world seeming to fall apart.
I also realized as I was crying that all that stuff is kind of bull. None of it is true. I am a good wife and mom and I can take yoga classes and everything will be fine. It might be better to take yoga classes on Saturday or Sunday when my husband can be with the kids, though.
The truth is, the last few weeks have been really full. Full of unexpected changes, deviations from the plan and routine.
I've had to loosen up. For me, this means loosening up, even on ways that many people find admirable, in which I try to take care of myself. I am loosening up on running. I am loosening up on New Year's Resolutions (at least my original interpretation of New Year's Resolutions). I am loosening up on my rules about writing, about not procrastinating. I am just having to go with the flow.
I've written before about changing your strategy - I am finding that at least at this moment in my life, it's better not to have a strategy. Or maybe my strategy is a balance between my 'agenda' and spontaneity. Sometimes you can be going along feeling like life is adhering nicely to your agenda, but that's kind of an illusion.
In hospice, I thought a lot about the people who seemed, in the end, to be able to let go. They had a certain grace in facing death and often, to tell you the truth, seemed to die more quickly, which is often a blessing. I noticed other people who clung dearly to life, who tried not to let go.
Well, it's getting later in the evening, a time my brain tends to wander and I guess I'm thinking that one thing relates to another. Sometimes we have to loosen up and let go of little things, sometimes we are called to loosen up and let go of big things. I guess I've always wanted to be someone who can figure out which way the wind is blowing, someone who can change plans, be spontaneous, and let go when that's the way things are going anyway.
It was on a Thursday morning, a time I don't usually work. I have, for the first time in 8 years, ostensibly, a large swath of time on that day that I can do whatever I want. Driving to the yoga class, I had some anxiety. I have to turn off my phone for an hour and a half in class and this isn't something I normally do. Even in my work day, I have my phone on silent, but check every hour to see if there have been any urgent calls or calls from family. I talked myself out of this anxiety, "Katy," I said to myself, "That is just your anxiety. It's time to let that go." (See...trying to practice what I preach, gentle self talk).
When I got to the class, the very earth-Mothery instructor said, "Hey, we've sort of spontaneously made this class 2 hours long - will that be okay?"
"Sure." I answered, but internally my anxiety ratcheted up again. Again, I spoke to myself, "Everything is perfectly fine, Katy. You may take this class for two hours. This is time that you do have."
I didn't feel that great during the class. When it was done I checked my calls and had 14 missed calls. Yes - 14. One from the school nurse and several from my husband, sort of like this, "Hey honey...where are you? Our daughter is sick and I guess I'm going to go pick her up? Where are you?"
For the first time since 2009, I had a kid sick enough to get a call from the nurse's office and it happened while I was in my big moment of spiritual woo woo/New Year's resolution-ness.
What can I say? I cried. I cried because I felt like a cruddy mom and wife who was off shirking her responsibilities and I felt simultaneously resentful that I couldn't take one damn yoga class without the world seeming to fall apart.
I also realized as I was crying that all that stuff is kind of bull. None of it is true. I am a good wife and mom and I can take yoga classes and everything will be fine. It might be better to take yoga classes on Saturday or Sunday when my husband can be with the kids, though.
The truth is, the last few weeks have been really full. Full of unexpected changes, deviations from the plan and routine.
I've had to loosen up. For me, this means loosening up, even on ways that many people find admirable, in which I try to take care of myself. I am loosening up on running. I am loosening up on New Year's Resolutions (at least my original interpretation of New Year's Resolutions). I am loosening up on my rules about writing, about not procrastinating. I am just having to go with the flow.
I've written before about changing your strategy - I am finding that at least at this moment in my life, it's better not to have a strategy. Or maybe my strategy is a balance between my 'agenda' and spontaneity. Sometimes you can be going along feeling like life is adhering nicely to your agenda, but that's kind of an illusion.
In hospice, I thought a lot about the people who seemed, in the end, to be able to let go. They had a certain grace in facing death and often, to tell you the truth, seemed to die more quickly, which is often a blessing. I noticed other people who clung dearly to life, who tried not to let go.
Well, it's getting later in the evening, a time my brain tends to wander and I guess I'm thinking that one thing relates to another. Sometimes we have to loosen up and let go of little things, sometimes we are called to loosen up and let go of big things. I guess I've always wanted to be someone who can figure out which way the wind is blowing, someone who can change plans, be spontaneous, and let go when that's the way things are going anyway.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
updates from 2011: parenting, mindfulness and The Dude
I like to be accountable.
I have the audacity to offer thoughts and ideas about life, emotional health, and spiritual growth, so I think I better be accountable. I decided to take a few ideas I pondered in the past year and see how I'm doing with them.
Today I want to look at Mindful Parenting.
In Feb. 2011 I wrote about me having a conniption fit ignited by getting my kids ready for school and trying to get out the door in the morning, on top of hundreds of repeat plays of Les Miz on the CD player. At that time, the song Bad Moon Rising happened to come up on 103.3 and it was like getting a bucket of groovy water thrown over my head and I was able to put life in perspective and realize that with a little mindful planning and less rushing for me and the kids, we could all have a happier morning.
In essence, I suggested that we could all be more mindful parents. So how did I do with this? Better! I think I made vast improvements, and here's what I did different, and I think I can summarize it in three words: I gave up.
Yes, I think I gave up a little this year. I admitted defeat in some aspects of parenting.
It's not as bad as it sounds...let me explain. I grew up with a pretty traditional parenting style - authoritarian. Not like beat your butt authoritarian, but "I'm the adult and you do it because I say you will do it" authoritarian. Without setting out to have an existential battle, I ended out this way because of my not really realizing that my own parenting style is, essentially not that. I wanted it to be that. It worked for me as a kid! But, I am too goofy a person and too much of a touchy-feely social worker to truly make that work. I've spanked my kids a total of 3 times and I tried for a 4th, but I started giggling, looking at my son's tushy trying to run away from me.
I also realized that the tension between these two parts of me - the voice that said, 'Katy, you should discipline like your mom and dad, this is what they expect or because you see so and so parenting that way" and the voice that said, "Katy, you can do it a different way and it's still legitimate"- that tension was making me kind of unhappy, not to mention confusing my kids. It made me think of that old comedy video, Bill Cosby, Himself. As a parent, I think of the clip, where he says, "My wife was a beautiful woman until we had children and now her face is permanently like this" and he makes this totally strained face with veins popping out of the neck. I am pretty sure I looked like that a lot of the time and all of a sudden it dawned on me that I didn't have to be like that.
So I gave up. Even my mom noticed. Our whole extended family went on vacation this year and my kids were acting up and I was talking to them very calmly away from the dinner table. I returned to the dinner table, looked over at my mom and said, "I've given up." She said, "Yes, you have."
But, it's actually working better. Our household is more humorous, less angry, and I think my kids are 'getting it" better. Maybe because they are not getting mixed messages from me about expectations and what will happen when they are in trouble. Maybe because they are getting older, too.
I still get mad, of course. But now, I think about it more...I slow down. I even yelled, "Dammit - I'm tired of this!" the other day, but ( this is true!) I thought, 'hmmm...saying dammit will really get the little buggers attention'. My kids think rough words and cussing are like cardinal sins, so it's totally eye-popping for them for me to cuss. Also, it gave me a little humor too, dammit.
So, that's an update on mindful parenting from my end...somebody said that nothing dies harder than a bad idea, and I feel like we have some ideas about our parenting or what parents are supposed to be and it's okay to let them go.
I have the audacity to offer thoughts and ideas about life, emotional health, and spiritual growth, so I think I better be accountable. I decided to take a few ideas I pondered in the past year and see how I'm doing with them.
Today I want to look at Mindful Parenting.
In Feb. 2011 I wrote about me having a conniption fit ignited by getting my kids ready for school and trying to get out the door in the morning, on top of hundreds of repeat plays of Les Miz on the CD player. At that time, the song Bad Moon Rising happened to come up on 103.3 and it was like getting a bucket of groovy water thrown over my head and I was able to put life in perspective and realize that with a little mindful planning and less rushing for me and the kids, we could all have a happier morning.
In essence, I suggested that we could all be more mindful parents. So how did I do with this? Better! I think I made vast improvements, and here's what I did different, and I think I can summarize it in three words: I gave up.
Yes, I think I gave up a little this year. I admitted defeat in some aspects of parenting.
It's not as bad as it sounds...let me explain. I grew up with a pretty traditional parenting style - authoritarian. Not like beat your butt authoritarian, but "I'm the adult and you do it because I say you will do it" authoritarian. Without setting out to have an existential battle, I ended out this way because of my not really realizing that my own parenting style is, essentially not that. I wanted it to be that. It worked for me as a kid! But, I am too goofy a person and too much of a touchy-feely social worker to truly make that work. I've spanked my kids a total of 3 times and I tried for a 4th, but I started giggling, looking at my son's tushy trying to run away from me.
I also realized that the tension between these two parts of me - the voice that said, 'Katy, you should discipline like your mom and dad, this is what they expect or because you see so and so parenting that way" and the voice that said, "Katy, you can do it a different way and it's still legitimate"- that tension was making me kind of unhappy, not to mention confusing my kids. It made me think of that old comedy video, Bill Cosby, Himself. As a parent, I think of the clip, where he says, "My wife was a beautiful woman until we had children and now her face is permanently like this" and he makes this totally strained face with veins popping out of the neck. I am pretty sure I looked like that a lot of the time and all of a sudden it dawned on me that I didn't have to be like that.
So I gave up. Even my mom noticed. Our whole extended family went on vacation this year and my kids were acting up and I was talking to them very calmly away from the dinner table. I returned to the dinner table, looked over at my mom and said, "I've given up." She said, "Yes, you have."
But, it's actually working better. Our household is more humorous, less angry, and I think my kids are 'getting it" better. Maybe because they are not getting mixed messages from me about expectations and what will happen when they are in trouble. Maybe because they are getting older, too.
I still get mad, of course. But now, I think about it more...I slow down. I even yelled, "Dammit - I'm tired of this!" the other day, but ( this is true!) I thought, 'hmmm...saying dammit will really get the little buggers attention'. My kids think rough words and cussing are like cardinal sins, so it's totally eye-popping for them for me to cuss. Also, it gave me a little humor too, dammit.
So, that's an update on mindful parenting from my end...somebody said that nothing dies harder than a bad idea, and I feel like we have some ideas about our parenting or what parents are supposed to be and it's okay to let them go.
Friday, December 23, 2011
ode to becoming: yes, virginia, that is all there is
On Thursday, I received my weekly email update/letter from my church minister. In the hopes of encouraging congregants to attend a service on Christmas Day, he wrote,
Now, I think it's interesting to compare that sentiment to some lyrics from Peggy Lee's song, Is That All There Is:
Actually, all the lyrics are pretty interesting. http://www.lyricstime.com/peggy-lee-is-that-all-there-is-lyrics.html
The thing is, I think a lot of people, whether they are traditionally religious or not, have this feeling (not necessarily about breaking out the booze and having a ball). There's a lot of build up for something to happen - maybe Christmas, maybe a vacation, maybe a new job, maybe just a night out with friends. There's preparation, planning, hoping for and anticipating the best...and then when it happens, it's kind of like one of those "dud" fireworks on the Fourth of July.
One idea, a way of approaching the Moments of life (with a capital M) links, for me, with a theology that I learned about from another minister; it's called Process Theology. Here's the gross oversimplification (so please forgive me if you know more about this than I do): the idea is that God is Becoming, that God is a process. If you don't believe in God, I think it still works...we hear it all the time, even at the Hallmark store: the journey is the destination.
I'll give this Christmas season as an example - like many of us, I've had a ridiculously long 'to do' list. Ever since Thanksgiving, there's been this momentum. Also, irritations - for example, I yelled at my son this afternoon for hitting his sister with a kebab skewer.
But, I'd like to propose that the momentum, the build up, is just as much Christmas as what I'll celebrate with my family on December 24/25. I am not building up for some moment to happen, the moment is happening. So rather than feel harried and resent my obligations and think, "I can't wait for Christmas to get here, then I'll know this effort is all worth it," it's much more content and enjoyable for me to soak in what I'm actually doing at the moment as part of what I hope for when I think of what I love about a holiday: traditions, family time, good food and music, appreciating one another, feeling connecting to and honoring something bigger than ourselves.
We can even draw this out to our sense of self. If we think, one day I'll be the person I want to be, we're missing out. We are becoming who we are and/or who we want to be! It's happening right now. It's not always comfortable, but I think that is so cool.
I am trying to keep in mind that every moment is "all there is.". I've enjoyed myself this month, including all the running around. But maybe I better go just now, I think I heard the kitchen drawer open. The one where we keep the kebab skewers.
Happy Holidays and Love to Everybody!
I confess that I sometimes have a feeling of emptiness and incompletion on Christmas Day. The presents are opened, and now what? Do I turn to football or a nostalgic movie? This is Christmas Day, yet the magic of the season seems already gone. How I wish for a brief time of real meaning, contemplation, for the spirit of the season in company with those who will be glad to see me.
Now, I think it's interesting to compare that sentiment to some lyrics from Peggy Lee's song, Is That All There Is:
And when I was 12 years old, my father took me to the circus, the greatest show on earth.
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And as I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle
I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over,
I said to myself, "Is that all there is to a circus?"
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
There were clowns and elephants and dancing bears
And a beautiful lady in pink tights flew high above our heads.
And as I sat there watching the marvelous spectacle
I had the feeling that something was missing.
I don't know what, but when it was over,
I said to myself, "Is that all there is to a circus?"
Is that all there is, is that all there is
If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing
Let's break out the booze and have a ball
Actually, all the lyrics are pretty interesting. http://www.lyricstime.com/peggy-lee-is-that-all-there-is-lyrics.html
The thing is, I think a lot of people, whether they are traditionally religious or not, have this feeling (not necessarily about breaking out the booze and having a ball). There's a lot of build up for something to happen - maybe Christmas, maybe a vacation, maybe a new job, maybe just a night out with friends. There's preparation, planning, hoping for and anticipating the best...and then when it happens, it's kind of like one of those "dud" fireworks on the Fourth of July.
It's notable to me that probably a half dozen to a dozen of my patients when I worked in hospice talked about the song, Is That All There Is? as they faced their own deaths. We feel that let down about individual events in life, but as Peggy Lee points out at the end of her song, we don't want it to end either.
One idea, a way of approaching the Moments of life (with a capital M) links, for me, with a theology that I learned about from another minister; it's called Process Theology. Here's the gross oversimplification (so please forgive me if you know more about this than I do): the idea is that God is Becoming, that God is a process. If you don't believe in God, I think it still works...we hear it all the time, even at the Hallmark store: the journey is the destination.
I'll give this Christmas season as an example - like many of us, I've had a ridiculously long 'to do' list. Ever since Thanksgiving, there's been this momentum. Also, irritations - for example, I yelled at my son this afternoon for hitting his sister with a kebab skewer.
But, I'd like to propose that the momentum, the build up, is just as much Christmas as what I'll celebrate with my family on December 24/25. I am not building up for some moment to happen, the moment is happening. So rather than feel harried and resent my obligations and think, "I can't wait for Christmas to get here, then I'll know this effort is all worth it," it's much more content and enjoyable for me to soak in what I'm actually doing at the moment as part of what I hope for when I think of what I love about a holiday: traditions, family time, good food and music, appreciating one another, feeling connecting to and honoring something bigger than ourselves.
We can even draw this out to our sense of self. If we think, one day I'll be the person I want to be, we're missing out. We are becoming who we are and/or who we want to be! It's happening right now. It's not always comfortable, but I think that is so cool.
I am trying to keep in mind that every moment is "all there is.". I've enjoyed myself this month, including all the running around. But maybe I better go just now, I think I heard the kitchen drawer open. The one where we keep the kebab skewers.
Happy Holidays and Love to Everybody!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
advice from a mentor
It's been a very busy month and I have really just been keeping up with my 'tasks' without much time to think, make connections between one thought and another, and then write about it. Some times are just like that, but I feel like I am moving out of it now.
In the thinking I have been doing, some advice I received recently is popping up frequently as I go about my days...but maybe the advice isn't the right place to start..I'll start here: in the last blog I wrote about the Marsha Linehan Mindfulness, Willingness and Radical Acceptance workshop I attended. She began her seminar with a slide, which read something like this:
Avoidance of suffering leads to more suffering.
I am a skeptic of authority, for the most part, so the first thing I thought, was "Do I agree with that?"
Here is my answer: mostly I agree with it. In my experience, if we avoid the internal experience of our own hurts, anger, grief, rejection, loneliness, this can be a decent immediate means of coping, but if we think we've managed to escape without dealing with the feelings we are wrong - they come back later, and sometimes nastier.
So, it's from that point of view that I will share some advice I was given. A couple weeks ago, I had lunch with a professional mentor of mine. I shared with him some feelings of discomfort I have and questions about how to do my job as a psychotherapist. "Therapy" is a big umbrella and people approach it with diverse points of view. When my point of view bumps up against someone else's point of view, it is uncomfortable. Just like in 'real' life - when you're talking with somebody about Occupy Wall Street, or how to raise children, or God, or what changes might improve your marriage, or whatever - and your essential viewpoint differs from someone else, it's uncomfortable. For me, I never go to a place of digging in my heels on my opinion, it's just not my nature - I go to a place of questions - whose authority do I accept? should I try to change the other person's opinion? what does it mean about them that they think X? what does it mean about me that I think Y? It feels sticky, irritating, and like something I might like to avoid.
But here is what my mentor said, something I know and that typically I do, but sometimes it's good to get a reminder or even a directive: When you are uncomfortable with something, lean into it. (isn't that great, therapist-y advice!)
That means examine it like a discovery, look at all sides, make notes on it, ask it questions. Feeling and leaning into discomfort doesn't necessary lead to answers (though sometimes it does), but it will lead to a deeper knowing of yourself and others. Rather than more suffering, it will lead to less.
Sometimes we don't even realize we are avoiding something. I think the first place to start is to acknowledge what and when we feel uncomfortable with a person we know and love, a person we don't know well but feel we don't like, an event in our past, a thought about the future. Do I feel uncomfortable when I think of it? If the answer is yes, it might be worth taking some time to 'lean into it' and see what we find out.
In the thinking I have been doing, some advice I received recently is popping up frequently as I go about my days...but maybe the advice isn't the right place to start..I'll start here: in the last blog I wrote about the Marsha Linehan Mindfulness, Willingness and Radical Acceptance workshop I attended. She began her seminar with a slide, which read something like this:
Avoidance of suffering leads to more suffering.
I am a skeptic of authority, for the most part, so the first thing I thought, was "Do I agree with that?"
Here is my answer: mostly I agree with it. In my experience, if we avoid the internal experience of our own hurts, anger, grief, rejection, loneliness, this can be a decent immediate means of coping, but if we think we've managed to escape without dealing with the feelings we are wrong - they come back later, and sometimes nastier.
So, it's from that point of view that I will share some advice I was given. A couple weeks ago, I had lunch with a professional mentor of mine. I shared with him some feelings of discomfort I have and questions about how to do my job as a psychotherapist. "Therapy" is a big umbrella and people approach it with diverse points of view. When my point of view bumps up against someone else's point of view, it is uncomfortable. Just like in 'real' life - when you're talking with somebody about Occupy Wall Street, or how to raise children, or God, or what changes might improve your marriage, or whatever - and your essential viewpoint differs from someone else, it's uncomfortable. For me, I never go to a place of digging in my heels on my opinion, it's just not my nature - I go to a place of questions - whose authority do I accept? should I try to change the other person's opinion? what does it mean about them that they think X? what does it mean about me that I think Y? It feels sticky, irritating, and like something I might like to avoid.
But here is what my mentor said, something I know and that typically I do, but sometimes it's good to get a reminder or even a directive: When you are uncomfortable with something, lean into it. (isn't that great, therapist-y advice!)
That means examine it like a discovery, look at all sides, make notes on it, ask it questions. Feeling and leaning into discomfort doesn't necessary lead to answers (though sometimes it does), but it will lead to a deeper knowing of yourself and others. Rather than more suffering, it will lead to less.
Sometimes we don't even realize we are avoiding something. I think the first place to start is to acknowledge what and when we feel uncomfortable with a person we know and love, a person we don't know well but feel we don't like, an event in our past, a thought about the future. Do I feel uncomfortable when I think of it? If the answer is yes, it might be worth taking some time to 'lean into it' and see what we find out.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
the lovers, the dreamers, and me
As we were making her bed this morning, my daughter told me that she believes her three stuffed animals are real - Barky (a dog), Simba (the baby lion from Lion King) and Aslan (passed down after more than 30 years from me to her). The evidence: Simba seems to have outgrown his palm leaf/diaper.
A few weeks ago, I lent out a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit to a client. It's a great childrens' book about a stuffed rabbit who longs to be 'real.' And it's also about love and magic.
And, count me among the fans who saw Harry Potter #7 part 2 at the theater. The scene that really resonated with me emotionally was where Harry has 'died.' He finds himself in an in-between, foggy-ish, surreal-ish place reminiscent to him of King's Cross Station. He asks Dumbledore, who is also there with him - 'is this real? Or is it all in my mind?'
Dumbledore replies, 'Of course, it's all in your mind. That doesn't mean it's not real.'
And here comes The Green Album, a tribute to the music of The Muppets - artists like Weezer, My Morning Jacket, etc. cover. If anyone walks the uncomfortable line between real and not real, it's Kermit, Miss Piggy, Fozzie, and the gang. Wasn't it (and isn't it) amazing to watch the human actors interact with the muppets, whether you watch on Sesame Street or the Muppet Show? When we were talking about this album, my sister even said, 'who isn't a little in love with Kermit?'
Why is it that a kid's world is so easily magical and the adults world is so fraught with the question, the need to have absolute knowledge that anything worthy is real as measured by an objective standard?
What about the lyrics to The Rainbow Connection?
have you been half asleep and
have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it;
it's something that I'm s'pposed to be.
Someday we'll find it. The rainbow connection -
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
If we just listen, don't we know it's true? Maybe there's a difference between true and real. Maybe things aren't as complicated as we make them.
I believe that if we try to stop the chatter in our brains, we can listen to something essential to ourselves. We inherently posses in us a deep peace that knows beyond inadequate words like real or unreal. And when we let ourselves stop that distracting chatter, we can also let go and have a little fun.
Let's take some time to listen http://www.npr.org/2011/08/14/138984517/first-listen-muppets-the-green-album
In keeping with the theme, may I particularly recommend I'm Going to Go Back There Someday. The last song on the album.
A few weeks ago, I lent out a copy of The Velveteen Rabbit to a client. It's a great childrens' book about a stuffed rabbit who longs to be 'real.' And it's also about love and magic.
And, count me among the fans who saw Harry Potter #7 part 2 at the theater. The scene that really resonated with me emotionally was where Harry has 'died.' He finds himself in an in-between, foggy-ish, surreal-ish place reminiscent to him of King's Cross Station. He asks Dumbledore, who is also there with him - 'is this real? Or is it all in my mind?'
Dumbledore replies, 'Of course, it's all in your mind. That doesn't mean it's not real.'
And here comes The Green Album, a tribute to the music of The Muppets - artists like Weezer, My Morning Jacket, etc. cover. If anyone walks the uncomfortable line between real and not real, it's Kermit, Miss Piggy, Fozzie, and the gang. Wasn't it (and isn't it) amazing to watch the human actors interact with the muppets, whether you watch on Sesame Street or the Muppet Show? When we were talking about this album, my sister even said, 'who isn't a little in love with Kermit?'
Why is it that a kid's world is so easily magical and the adults world is so fraught with the question, the need to have absolute knowledge that anything worthy is real as measured by an objective standard?
What about the lyrics to The Rainbow Connection?
have you been half asleep and
have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailor?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it;
it's something that I'm s'pposed to be.
Someday we'll find it. The rainbow connection -
the lovers, the dreamers, and me.
If we just listen, don't we know it's true? Maybe there's a difference between true and real. Maybe things aren't as complicated as we make them.
I believe that if we try to stop the chatter in our brains, we can listen to something essential to ourselves. We inherently posses in us a deep peace that knows beyond inadequate words like real or unreal. And when we let ourselves stop that distracting chatter, we can also let go and have a little fun.
Let's take some time to listen http://www.npr.org/2011/08/14/138984517/first-listen-muppets-the-green-album
In keeping with the theme, may I particularly recommend I'm Going to Go Back There Someday. The last song on the album.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
radical acceptance
Here's an article that I found interesting...information about the different types of therapeutic approaches make us all better consumers of counseling/psychotherapy. I think this approach has a lot of merit.
This is from the NY Times today: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/23/health/23lives.html .
I don't have a lot of time to write this week, but I hope you find this thought-provoking.
This is from the NY Times today: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/06/23/health/23lives.html .
I don't have a lot of time to write this week, but I hope you find this thought-provoking.
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!
Monday, January 24, 2011
parenting, mindfulness, and the Dude
Here is what my morning was like. Let me say this first: I'm not proud.
I got up at 5:20 to check email and write. This is what I do every morning. My husband, who'd been out of town for 6 days got in last night at midnight. I'd slept okay, but a couple of bad dreams. I got ready to go to the gym at 6:15. Before I could go, the dog needed to go out, my daughter needed to go to the bathroom and help dressing her doll and she wanted to chat a bit. I remembered that I should set the alarm for my husband so that he would get up and get the kids going for school. I got home from the gym at 7:25. I made two kids' lunches, showered and dressed, helped my kids pick out clothes and get dressed. I drove my son and the neighbor children to school. It was 8:40 when I got home from that, because the traffic was bad. My daughter is due at school at 9. I wasn't going to make that, I knew, but I figured 9:10. I am generally punctual, so it stresses me to be late, but I've given in to the 10 minutes late to pre-school thing. We're almost ready to go, but my daughter starts being tempermental. I start being tempermental. I can't find her mittens or papers for her school. Now I'm really mad and not acting like a very nice mom. When I get mad, I tend to stomp around and yell. I look in the basement for her mittens and find that a cat pooped on the carpet. I am about to blow my top. I've switched into quiet seething mode. We get in the car and there's been a wreck and two lanes are closed on the highway. I know I'm supposed to think about inner peace and mindfulness and gratitude. Unfortunately, curse words are what I'm thinking of. Also, my daugher wants to listen to Les Miserables, the musical, which we have listened to EVERY DAY for 3 weeks. I say, "let's listen to something else for a song or two." It must be the electric anger behind the quiet tone of my voice: she agrees. The song that comes on: Bad Moon Rising by CCR.
This was the game changer. I get a weird amount of pleasure from that song. My husband loves the movie "The Big Lebowski," a movie that is kind of a stoner classic, but also promotes the awesomeness of CCR. I'm just not that mellow of a person, but I wish I was, so I have a hard time connecting with the Dude. The one part of him that I do connect with is his love of Creedence Clearwater Revival. I take this as a sign of hope, a sign of balance. Maybe I could do with a little more Dude influence on my life.
I don't mean not caring or smoking pot or blowing off responsibility, but maybe a clarifying of priorities and choices. Today, Bad Moon Rising made me laugh at myself and think about what I could do to alleviate this pattern in my morning, a pattern of stress that comes out directed at my kids and at myself. The solutions seem simple: get up a little earlier, make lunches the night before, have them pick out clothes the night before, make sure all supplies are ready to go the night before. It's not brain surgery. I'll also be a more pleasant mother and person for it.
There's been a lot of coverage of a new book about motherhood recently - Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, by Amy Chua. (here's a review... http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/20/books/20book.html?_r=1). I haven't read the book, but I've heard a number of interviews with her - her premise is that the American/Western style of parenting that focuses so much on self-esteem can be to the determent of our kids. She says Asian parents tend to approach parenting from a stance that "my kids are strong, they can take it". It being 3 hours a day of piano practice or criticism for poorly made Mother's Day cards, etc. She also says that this style of parenting worked very well for her oldest child (and for her self), but not for her youngest. She had to change her approach slightly with the youngest child because by adolescence, they were growing estranged.
It takes a lot of creativity and humility to change the game plan. To feel unhappy about something - parenting in particular is what I'm thinking of today - and change what you're doing. I think this is what is one of the things that is meant by mindfulness - not that you have a state of inner peace, free of turbulence, but that you remain open to all your choices and trying something new doesn't seem like defeat.
So, I vow to be a nicer mom in the morning by being a mom that plans ahead, a mom that realizes that time limits me as it limits us all, to not blame my kids for being kids when I am the one running late.
Also, maybe I need to download some CCR to my ipod.
I got up at 5:20 to check email and write. This is what I do every morning. My husband, who'd been out of town for 6 days got in last night at midnight. I'd slept okay, but a couple of bad dreams. I got ready to go to the gym at 6:15. Before I could go, the dog needed to go out, my daughter needed to go to the bathroom and help dressing her doll and she wanted to chat a bit. I remembered that I should set the alarm for my husband so that he would get up and get the kids going for school. I got home from the gym at 7:25. I made two kids' lunches, showered and dressed, helped my kids pick out clothes and get dressed. I drove my son and the neighbor children to school. It was 8:40 when I got home from that, because the traffic was bad. My daughter is due at school at 9. I wasn't going to make that, I knew, but I figured 9:10. I am generally punctual, so it stresses me to be late, but I've given in to the 10 minutes late to pre-school thing. We're almost ready to go, but my daughter starts being tempermental. I start being tempermental. I can't find her mittens or papers for her school. Now I'm really mad and not acting like a very nice mom. When I get mad, I tend to stomp around and yell. I look in the basement for her mittens and find that a cat pooped on the carpet. I am about to blow my top. I've switched into quiet seething mode. We get in the car and there's been a wreck and two lanes are closed on the highway. I know I'm supposed to think about inner peace and mindfulness and gratitude. Unfortunately, curse words are what I'm thinking of. Also, my daugher wants to listen to Les Miserables, the musical, which we have listened to EVERY DAY for 3 weeks. I say, "let's listen to something else for a song or two." It must be the electric anger behind the quiet tone of my voice: she agrees. The song that comes on: Bad Moon Rising by CCR.
This was the game changer. I get a weird amount of pleasure from that song. My husband loves the movie "The Big Lebowski," a movie that is kind of a stoner classic, but also promotes the awesomeness of CCR. I'm just not that mellow of a person, but I wish I was, so I have a hard time connecting with the Dude. The one part of him that I do connect with is his love of Creedence Clearwater Revival. I take this as a sign of hope, a sign of balance. Maybe I could do with a little more Dude influence on my life.
I don't mean not caring or smoking pot or blowing off responsibility, but maybe a clarifying of priorities and choices. Today, Bad Moon Rising made me laugh at myself and think about what I could do to alleviate this pattern in my morning, a pattern of stress that comes out directed at my kids and at myself. The solutions seem simple: get up a little earlier, make lunches the night before, have them pick out clothes the night before, make sure all supplies are ready to go the night before. It's not brain surgery. I'll also be a more pleasant mother and person for it.
There's been a lot of coverage of a new book about motherhood recently - Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, by Amy Chua. (here's a review... http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/20/books/20book.html?_r=1). I haven't read the book, but I've heard a number of interviews with her - her premise is that the American/Western style of parenting that focuses so much on self-esteem can be to the determent of our kids. She says Asian parents tend to approach parenting from a stance that "my kids are strong, they can take it". It being 3 hours a day of piano practice or criticism for poorly made Mother's Day cards, etc. She also says that this style of parenting worked very well for her oldest child (and for her self), but not for her youngest. She had to change her approach slightly with the youngest child because by adolescence, they were growing estranged.
It takes a lot of creativity and humility to change the game plan. To feel unhappy about something - parenting in particular is what I'm thinking of today - and change what you're doing. I think this is what is one of the things that is meant by mindfulness - not that you have a state of inner peace, free of turbulence, but that you remain open to all your choices and trying something new doesn't seem like defeat.
So, I vow to be a nicer mom in the morning by being a mom that plans ahead, a mom that realizes that time limits me as it limits us all, to not blame my kids for being kids when I am the one running late.
Also, maybe I need to download some CCR to my ipod.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
To be or not to be - a zombie
This morning I read an NYT article by Chuck Klosterman, titled My Zombie, myself: How Modern Life Feels Rather Undead, www.nytimes.com/2010/12/05/arts/television/05zombies.html . Klosterman's points are these (in a nutshell) - millions more people watched the premiere of this new zombie show, The Walking Dead, on AMC than watched the premiere of Mad Men. He posits that this is more complex than zombies replacing vampires as the monster of the moment...zombies have no complexity, no character, they are meant to be shot in the head again and again until there are no zombies left. He says we identify with this because of the onslaught of email, media, work meetings, consumerism. Delete. Delete. Delete. It was funny that when I clicked to go to Page 2 an automatic pop up for The Economist took up the whole screen and I had to close it to read the rest of the article.
Anyway, I get what Klosterman is saying, but a couple other questions came to my mind and like a lot of what I read, even in the NYT, I tend to feel that the issues are more complex and I get frustrated with an often quip-py or flip quality that enters the writing in order to sum up the article to fit the constraints of how many words or how much space the article is supposed to take up.
Is modern life like killing zombies or is like BEING a zombie? What kinds of brains does it take to keep deleting emails or showing up at meetings that we don't want to be in? I remember when I used to work in PR, sitting in my windowless office and working at the computer. My radio was on and the Pink Floyd song came on, "all in all, you're just another brick in the wall," and I thought, "yeah. I've got to change something here." That was 1997. Technology is so much more powerful and all encompassing now. I guess, if we go with the idea that it's not good to be a zombie, I'd just like to advocate, as a general practice to preserve our own sense of integrity, a vigilance in asking, "what are my choices? what are my real choices? who has set this limit on me? Is it email limiting me? Is it my boss limiting me? Is it my mother? Is it myself?" Be honest. Doing something about the answer will have to be saved for another day.
On a lighter note, this article also had me thinking about the consumption of entertainment and what kind of zombies we are in our choices for entertainment. Let me say, I have not seen this new show, The Walking Dead. It might be some high quality stuff. I also haven't seen Mad Men, though it's recommended to me by everyone and I am guessing I would really like it. Sometimes, I am a zombie in my entertainment choices. I love that terrible show, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Most of the Real Housewives shows, I admit, with a little shame only, that I get a big kick out of. I identify with the desire, that 'down time', can sometimes mean the wish to be simply and passively entertained. I've read enough theologians to know there is a theory of 'garbage in, garbage out.' Thic Nhat Hahn talks about this in Peace is Every Step. He says that what we put into our minds should not be mindless, but mindful, intentional and full of peace. Maybe I am not there yet. For now, I sometimes make the mindful choice to be entertained by a little junk. And, I really, really hope that it is my knowledge and understanding that I am making a choice that keeps me from being a zombie.
Anyway, I get what Klosterman is saying, but a couple other questions came to my mind and like a lot of what I read, even in the NYT, I tend to feel that the issues are more complex and I get frustrated with an often quip-py or flip quality that enters the writing in order to sum up the article to fit the constraints of how many words or how much space the article is supposed to take up.
Is modern life like killing zombies or is like BEING a zombie? What kinds of brains does it take to keep deleting emails or showing up at meetings that we don't want to be in? I remember when I used to work in PR, sitting in my windowless office and working at the computer. My radio was on and the Pink Floyd song came on, "all in all, you're just another brick in the wall," and I thought, "yeah. I've got to change something here." That was 1997. Technology is so much more powerful and all encompassing now. I guess, if we go with the idea that it's not good to be a zombie, I'd just like to advocate, as a general practice to preserve our own sense of integrity, a vigilance in asking, "what are my choices? what are my real choices? who has set this limit on me? Is it email limiting me? Is it my boss limiting me? Is it my mother? Is it myself?" Be honest. Doing something about the answer will have to be saved for another day.
On a lighter note, this article also had me thinking about the consumption of entertainment and what kind of zombies we are in our choices for entertainment. Let me say, I have not seen this new show, The Walking Dead. It might be some high quality stuff. I also haven't seen Mad Men, though it's recommended to me by everyone and I am guessing I would really like it. Sometimes, I am a zombie in my entertainment choices. I love that terrible show, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Most of the Real Housewives shows, I admit, with a little shame only, that I get a big kick out of. I identify with the desire, that 'down time', can sometimes mean the wish to be simply and passively entertained. I've read enough theologians to know there is a theory of 'garbage in, garbage out.' Thic Nhat Hahn talks about this in Peace is Every Step. He says that what we put into our minds should not be mindless, but mindful, intentional and full of peace. Maybe I am not there yet. For now, I sometimes make the mindful choice to be entertained by a little junk. And, I really, really hope that it is my knowledge and understanding that I am making a choice that keeps me from being a zombie.
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