People who know me well know why I haven't been blogging this year. And several people have been asking me for several months to start writing again. As for me, I've wanted to, but also haven't until now, felt that I was ready. I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be, but I am feeling trepidation. I'm nervous for both personal and professional reasons - personally, I've always used my own life experience to weave into whatever it is I'm blogging or writing about. I got divorced this year. The pain of that, the nuances of the end of a marriage, and the deep changes that take place in a family are vulnerable not just for me, but for others in my family. If I choose to write about these things, it is my intention to do so in a way that is respectful of their sense of privacy and their healing.
Professionally, I have trepidation, too. There is an idea in theater of the "fourth wall" - breaking the fourth wall is when the character on stage speaks directly to the audience. I think of Ferris Bueller turning to the camera and saying to the audience, "How could I possibly be expected to handle school on a day like this?" As a therapist, there is a fourth wall, too. Most therapists don't tend to share much about their personal experience and there is an idea that the less a client knows about their therapist personally, the more effective the therapeutic relationship might be because the client will project their own issues on the therapist and through that projection can work through and heal from childhood wounds. So, by writing about my personal experience, I run the risk of my clients who might read this, feeling that they know too much about me.
I am a therapist, but I write this blog because I am also a writer, poet, and storyteller. I hope that sharing my experiences, thoughts, struggles, wonders, hopes, will help the world (and me) in some way - to help people understand one another better. To help us feel connected to one another and ourselves. And to offer courage. One thing I've learned about myself is just how anti-authoritarian I am. I don't believe that the therapist is this all-knowing wise person with ANSWERS. Maybe some therapists have some answers, but I believe one of the purposes of my profession is to help people find their own answers. Each person is the ultimate authority in his/her own life.
So, thank you for bearing with me through that long-winded introduction.
I got divorced this year. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you would not wish divorce on your worst enemy. In a generic way: 1) the legal process is nauseating - breaking a family down into measurable days and dollars, 2) there is the end of the hopes and dreams of two people who came together in a hopeful way to get married in the first place - the grief of letting go, 3) the changes to the greater family tradition/structure - holidays, birthdays, the annual camping trip to the lake, or whatever...all of that which impacts not just the two people who are divorced, but the whole family.
And I feel like I must share this to go on blogging/writing, because it will deeply influence my writing - what I write about and the lens through which I look at our human experience.
Many, many people express to me that they are happy this year is over. The election process was an excruciating one in our country, regardless of how you feel about the outcome. As a country, we are looking at many cracks in our social and political fabric that need healing. As a world community, it feels like there is more distrust and fear than ever. And that is not to mention the personal struggles that each of us face.
In my last blog that I posted, January 2016, I asked:"how will you show up for the year?" 2016 didn't give me too many choices...life happened and it happened fast. So, my answer to the question in looking back over the year is that overall, I showed up awestruck - in Webster's that means, "filled with a feeling of fear and wonder." With the wind knocked out of me, I was vulnerable in ways I'd never been before. I felt great pain, but I also received great help.
When I wrote in my journal this morning, I thought about what I want for 2017 and maybe this is what I want for my whole life - and that is to live free. What I most mean by that is to speak my truth - sometimes my truth is telling my story, sometimes my truth is sharing my hope and strength, sometimes it is saying 'no' even if someone else doesn't like it. Sometimes, it is playing hooky from school.
As hard as this year was for me, I can't say that I wish it away or regret it. This for each of us, is our one precious life. Each hour, each day, each year adds up. Maybe it will give you courage to know that I went through horrendous grief and I am okay. I love this life. And, as Ferris Bueller says, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
Onward, Friends. I'll see you in 2017.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Monday, January 11, 2016
2016...How will you show up?
Last week was a long week. With my husband out of town on a work trip, I had my hands full with work, kids, house, year-end paperwork, aging pets (who poop on the floor right as I am walking out the door to get to work), and whatever else comes up. I often feel like a drill sergeant: Did you pack your homework? Do you have your Girl Scout sash? Brush your hair. Wear some deodorant. Have you done our thank you notes from Christmas yet? I get sick of myself. We needed some fun, but fun that didn't take too much energy. At least, that's what I needed.
So last night, we watched School of Rock, with Jack Black - a movie none of us had ever seen before. It was the perfect mix of silliness, personal catharsis, and rock and roll. But it also happened to fit perfectly into this blog, which I'd been working on earlier about HOW WE SHOW UP. Here's Jack Black showing up hungover to his first day substitute teaching: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbF4qz_-PCM
Another interesting story about 'showing up' comes from The Moth Radio Hour's most recent, https://beta.prx.org/stories/167147, which includes a funny and good story from Nadia Bolz-Weber (a Lutheran minister), who tells about how she tends to show up to large gatherings of Lutherans (and plane flights) and how she 'showed up' anxious and panicky to a precarious, international tourist bus trip down a mountain pass. It's worth listening to.
In my private practice, I'm paying attention to how people show up. I don't mean if they are wearing sweatpants or a business suit, but how they show up mentally. Most people show up in consistent ways, mentally/emotionally. Here are some I've noticed: 'prepared', with notes, questions, writings; vulnerable, ready to be open; passive, with the idea that something I do or say is the answer to all their problems; like a student, wanting to learn something; full of stories, longing to just talk out and tell the story of what's happened in their life since the last time I saw them; skeptical or defended, uncommitted, wanting to feel better, but not sure they want to go too deep.
There is no right way or wrong way to show up to therapy. Or life. But many days we don't even ask ourselves how we want to show up. To our day, our work, our family, a holiday party. We show up in the same old ways we always show up. We are irritable, we are hopeful, we are suspicious, we are exhausted, we are angry, we are playful, we are naive, we are curious, we are know-it-alls.
A dynamo woman I know introduced me to a wonderful poem a few years ago, and I know I've written about it before - Summons, by Robert Francis. She and her husband used it as a reading at their wedding and I love it in part because it reminds me that showing up the same way is a way of sleeping through life. And being willing to see everyday things like the moon with fresh eyes is a choice that makes my life more rich and full. Here it is:
Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded.
When we just show up without choosing how we want to show up, we are asleep to our own life (or like Jack Black, hungover). We always have a choice to wake up and show up. We have a whole new year ahead of us. 2016. It's the morning of January 11. How will you show up today?
So last night, we watched School of Rock, with Jack Black - a movie none of us had ever seen before. It was the perfect mix of silliness, personal catharsis, and rock and roll. But it also happened to fit perfectly into this blog, which I'd been working on earlier about HOW WE SHOW UP. Here's Jack Black showing up hungover to his first day substitute teaching: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbF4qz_-PCM
Another interesting story about 'showing up' comes from The Moth Radio Hour's most recent, https://beta.prx.org/stories/167147, which includes a funny and good story from Nadia Bolz-Weber (a Lutheran minister), who tells about how she tends to show up to large gatherings of Lutherans (and plane flights) and how she 'showed up' anxious and panicky to a precarious, international tourist bus trip down a mountain pass. It's worth listening to.
In my private practice, I'm paying attention to how people show up. I don't mean if they are wearing sweatpants or a business suit, but how they show up mentally. Most people show up in consistent ways, mentally/emotionally. Here are some I've noticed: 'prepared', with notes, questions, writings; vulnerable, ready to be open; passive, with the idea that something I do or say is the answer to all their problems; like a student, wanting to learn something; full of stories, longing to just talk out and tell the story of what's happened in their life since the last time I saw them; skeptical or defended, uncommitted, wanting to feel better, but not sure they want to go too deep.
There is no right way or wrong way to show up to therapy. Or life. But many days we don't even ask ourselves how we want to show up. To our day, our work, our family, a holiday party. We show up in the same old ways we always show up. We are irritable, we are hopeful, we are suspicious, we are exhausted, we are angry, we are playful, we are naive, we are curious, we are know-it-alls.
A dynamo woman I know introduced me to a wonderful poem a few years ago, and I know I've written about it before - Summons, by Robert Francis. She and her husband used it as a reading at their wedding and I love it in part because it reminds me that showing up the same way is a way of sleeping through life. And being willing to see everyday things like the moon with fresh eyes is a choice that makes my life more rich and full. Here it is:
Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded.
When we just show up without choosing how we want to show up, we are asleep to our own life (or like Jack Black, hungover). We always have a choice to wake up and show up. We have a whole new year ahead of us. 2016. It's the morning of January 11. How will you show up today?
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
The Rattle Bag: Dances with Wolves, Translations, and Gun Control
Living in D.C. in my early 20s, I remember discovering a bookstore called Kramerbooks and Afterwords, which I loved the way book nerds like me love bookstores. Which is to say, I felt totally cozy and at home there. Independent bookstores often effect me as church or museums do - I get solemn and sense a connection with Big Things. With my very little expendable income, I picked up a poetry anthology called The Rattle Bag, edited by Seamus Heaney (the Irish, too, do something romantic me) and have picked it up periodically and read and appreciated for the past 20 years. In part, what I take the word Rattle Bag to represent is a hodge podge - a poetry book full of interesting poems, related only by the fact that the editor liked them.
So today is a Rattle Bag of some ideas I've been working through and a couple bits that have been helpful that have stumbled across my path recently.
First, I want to share with you, that it's my intent to start work on a book in 2016, and perhaps finish it too. It will be part anecdotal/memoir and part self-help workbook/journal for readers. Through work and life, I've experienced a variety of interesting, joyful and even harrowing things, and certainly been witness to others' lives and through the past 15 years, I've journaled almost every day. It's an important part of how I stay truthful with myself, how I feel connected to myself and other people, how I work through puzzles and pains. If you are interested in reading bits as I go along, let me know. In that spirit, I offer you a new exercise that I've been using in my own journaling, and that I plan to include in what I put together in a larger picture in 2016. Here goes:
Over Thanksgiving weekend, my family and I watched Dances with Wolves together and I was struck by something that had never resonated with me in the same way before - the meeting of the Sioux to decide what to do about John Dunbar (Kevin Costner), who they'd found living alone at the soldier fort. Sitting around the fire, the Sioux men met and each had their say, which was listened to fully and seriously by the other members of the tribe, including the chief, Ten Bears. The men spoke one at a time and paused to take in all that the other man had just said - one man was angry and vengeful, one man was curious, maybe each man had a slightly different opinion, but he was fully heard. Then, Ten Bears, after taking it in, made a decision - that no decision had to be made at that time.
From a psychological perspective, I loved this as a metaphor for how we might better solve problems or questions in our lives - i.e., what should I do about the problem at school, at work, with my friend, with my sister, with my spouse? Many people react quickly without thinking through all the different internal responses they are having. Other people get so stuck in pondering and puzzling that they never do anything. But the important part is, that in order to proceed with wisdom (even, if your decision is to do 'nothing' at this time,) every part of your personality needs to be heard fully.
In puzzling out how to deal with my own kids, who have been bickering, fighting, complaining and hitting each other recently, I drew out a big circle on a piece of paper. I put a small circle in the middle and pie pieces coming from the middle circle to the outer edge. On each pie piece, I wrote a feeling that represented a member of my internal 'tribe' and what that member would say at a tribal council. For example: Disgusted/Exhausted, "I'm sick and tired of all this fighting" Or, Failure, "They fight because I didn't teach them well." Or, Normal, "It's normal for brothers and sisters to fight like this." In the end, I had seven representatives on my council, each with a different feeling about the same problem. Then, I imagined what the chief would say after having listened to all the different parts of me.
What I noticed after I wrote all this down, is that I felt much more peaceful about the problem than I had before I wrote. I needed to consciously acknowledge that I was being driven in part by guilt and feelings of failure, but after admitting that to myself, the "chief" also saw that it was best to listen to the voices that said be both consistent with consequences and patient because this is normal.
I just want to encourage you to try something like this, if you are grappling with a problem right now - what are all the different ways you feel about it - even if they are illogical, unattractive or silly? Don't try to impress yourself, just be real. After knowing ALL the different ways you feel, what makes most sense? Feel free to let me know how it goes - I'd love to hear if this works for you in bringing a greater sense of quiet to a problem that's kept you stirred up.
And of course, in my Rattlebag this month has been deep sadness about the gun violence in our world (we can't just say the U.S., now), terrorism, and rage in general. A young person I know recently shared with me that the root of the word 'sin,' really translates to 'missing the mark' (it actually had to do with archery). I am a person who gravitates toward words and religious words have power for me, even if I am not a dogmatic at all. Sin can be such a polarizing word - lots of non-religious people sort of roll their eyes at it. Yet, missing the mark is a concept that resonates beyond the religious. I think about the overlap of the metaphor - of shooting, missing the mark or hitting the mark, good and evil, peace and violence, injustice and justice. Each of us must look at our own thoughts and actions. Where do we 'miss the mark' in our thinking, feeling, or how we treat others? I know I say it all the time, but our little bit counts in ways we can never fully understand.
And finally, I have been thinking a lot about gun control and what the nuances of that mean to me. I could go two routes - one, is that I do understand that many people feel extremely threatened and perhaps rightfully so, in willy nilly changes to the Bill of Rights. This is how the Second Amendment reads: Amendment II
But the second route I go is more practical, I suppose. I understand that many people who don't hunt or otherwise use firearms are confused by the differences between semi-automatic, automatic and assault style weapons. My own son is a hunter and enjoys trap shooting, so I've learned a lot more than I ever would have known otherwise. I believe that as a society, we must implement regulations that slow the legal processes of acquiring firearms and maintaining them. I don't believe that solves the problems we are facing, but does that mean we shouldn't do it? We should do all the things we can to create a common sense society.
That's the Rattle Bag today, I suppose. And one more thing not to be forgotten - hopes and wishes for your family to enjoy a December that is gentle and full of love.
So today is a Rattle Bag of some ideas I've been working through and a couple bits that have been helpful that have stumbled across my path recently.
First, I want to share with you, that it's my intent to start work on a book in 2016, and perhaps finish it too. It will be part anecdotal/memoir and part self-help workbook/journal for readers. Through work and life, I've experienced a variety of interesting, joyful and even harrowing things, and certainly been witness to others' lives and through the past 15 years, I've journaled almost every day. It's an important part of how I stay truthful with myself, how I feel connected to myself and other people, how I work through puzzles and pains. If you are interested in reading bits as I go along, let me know. In that spirit, I offer you a new exercise that I've been using in my own journaling, and that I plan to include in what I put together in a larger picture in 2016. Here goes:
Over Thanksgiving weekend, my family and I watched Dances with Wolves together and I was struck by something that had never resonated with me in the same way before - the meeting of the Sioux to decide what to do about John Dunbar (Kevin Costner), who they'd found living alone at the soldier fort. Sitting around the fire, the Sioux men met and each had their say, which was listened to fully and seriously by the other members of the tribe, including the chief, Ten Bears. The men spoke one at a time and paused to take in all that the other man had just said - one man was angry and vengeful, one man was curious, maybe each man had a slightly different opinion, but he was fully heard. Then, Ten Bears, after taking it in, made a decision - that no decision had to be made at that time.
From a psychological perspective, I loved this as a metaphor for how we might better solve problems or questions in our lives - i.e., what should I do about the problem at school, at work, with my friend, with my sister, with my spouse? Many people react quickly without thinking through all the different internal responses they are having. Other people get so stuck in pondering and puzzling that they never do anything. But the important part is, that in order to proceed with wisdom (even, if your decision is to do 'nothing' at this time,) every part of your personality needs to be heard fully.
In puzzling out how to deal with my own kids, who have been bickering, fighting, complaining and hitting each other recently, I drew out a big circle on a piece of paper. I put a small circle in the middle and pie pieces coming from the middle circle to the outer edge. On each pie piece, I wrote a feeling that represented a member of my internal 'tribe' and what that member would say at a tribal council. For example: Disgusted/Exhausted, "I'm sick and tired of all this fighting" Or, Failure, "They fight because I didn't teach them well." Or, Normal, "It's normal for brothers and sisters to fight like this." In the end, I had seven representatives on my council, each with a different feeling about the same problem. Then, I imagined what the chief would say after having listened to all the different parts of me.
What I noticed after I wrote all this down, is that I felt much more peaceful about the problem than I had before I wrote. I needed to consciously acknowledge that I was being driven in part by guilt and feelings of failure, but after admitting that to myself, the "chief" also saw that it was best to listen to the voices that said be both consistent with consequences and patient because this is normal.
I just want to encourage you to try something like this, if you are grappling with a problem right now - what are all the different ways you feel about it - even if they are illogical, unattractive or silly? Don't try to impress yourself, just be real. After knowing ALL the different ways you feel, what makes most sense? Feel free to let me know how it goes - I'd love to hear if this works for you in bringing a greater sense of quiet to a problem that's kept you stirred up.
And of course, in my Rattlebag this month has been deep sadness about the gun violence in our world (we can't just say the U.S., now), terrorism, and rage in general. A young person I know recently shared with me that the root of the word 'sin,' really translates to 'missing the mark' (it actually had to do with archery). I am a person who gravitates toward words and religious words have power for me, even if I am not a dogmatic at all. Sin can be such a polarizing word - lots of non-religious people sort of roll their eyes at it. Yet, missing the mark is a concept that resonates beyond the religious. I think about the overlap of the metaphor - of shooting, missing the mark or hitting the mark, good and evil, peace and violence, injustice and justice. Each of us must look at our own thoughts and actions. Where do we 'miss the mark' in our thinking, feeling, or how we treat others? I know I say it all the time, but our little bit counts in ways we can never fully understand.
And finally, I have been thinking a lot about gun control and what the nuances of that mean to me. I could go two routes - one, is that I do understand that many people feel extremely threatened and perhaps rightfully so, in willy nilly changes to the Bill of Rights. This is how the Second Amendment reads: Amendment II
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
I just want to pose a genuine question, in tribal council mode: Would the Founding Fathers, given today's technology with firearms, adhere to this? I truly wonder. But the second route I go is more practical, I suppose. I understand that many people who don't hunt or otherwise use firearms are confused by the differences between semi-automatic, automatic and assault style weapons. My own son is a hunter and enjoys trap shooting, so I've learned a lot more than I ever would have known otherwise. I believe that as a society, we must implement regulations that slow the legal processes of acquiring firearms and maintaining them. I don't believe that solves the problems we are facing, but does that mean we shouldn't do it? We should do all the things we can to create a common sense society.
That's the Rattle Bag today, I suppose. And one more thing not to be forgotten - hopes and wishes for your family to enjoy a December that is gentle and full of love.
Monday, November 9, 2015
The Times They Are a Changin'
For a person who makes her living essentially helping people to thrive in or at least cope with change, it might be surprising just how mixed up I myself can feel when change happens in my life - even good change. Or little changes that can bring with them some weird baggage.
Case in point: we live in a really old house - it was built in the 1860s, and though many updates have been made by various owners over the years (thankfully, we have indoor plumbing), we don't have a 'master suite', unlike many newer homes. The four of us in our family all share one upstairs bathroom. Even though we have a downstairs full bath, it's more convenient to shower by the bedroom.
Yet, the kids are getting older. My son and I have had a couple blood curdling (for him) run-ins when our downstairs toilet was broken and I was in the shower upstairs. The kids don't neatly fit around the sink to brush their teeth at night and the screaming and shoving matches at tooth-brushing time are more frequent and ridiculous. So over the weekend, my husband announces that he thinks the guys in our family should start using the downstairs bathroom. And I'm like, "Great idea!" But, then a little part of me gets sad (I know, it's weird). A little part of me is sad because the kids are growing up. What if spreading apart in physical space means growing apart? Listen, I know it's crazy. I'm just saying that that one little change, which is really a good thing and shows an acceptance of our family reality, has it's own little moments of grief.
Another bigger change occurred in my life in the past couple of weeks. For twelve years, since I became a mom, I've worked part time Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and two Saturdays a month. My weeks had a consistency and rhythm. It's just what I did and how I did it. Recently, I was given the opportunity to change my days to Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and two Saturdays a month - and suddenly it seemed like this amazing opening of time. I hadn't realized how much I needed it until it was offered to me - a way to feel a sense of being more present - both present at home on my home days and present at work on my work days. A way for me to organize and compartmentalize my time. What an opportunity. And last week was my first week of that change. It felt great! But it also felt uncomfortable. It felt uncomfortable because it made other people uncomfortable. My change impacted my office mates in some good ways, in some ways they didn't like, and in some neutral ways. It made me kind of itchy on the insides because one of my issues is not being an issue to other people. It made me itchy on the insides because I'm a person of routine and my routine is shaken up.
I've been thinking about changes in our community/public life too - what change is happening, what it will look like, what part do I want to play? I am thinking today about my church and minister which is taking an active role in allying with the Black Lives Matter movement, and the football players at Mizzou. Something is changing in our racial culture and St. Louis and Missouri are an integral part of it. There is conflict, discomfort, burnout, dread. There is great discomfort on the part of both black people and white people. Change is happening, we just don't have the perspective of time to know what these changes really mean and what they will look like - it's not as simple as changing your workdays.
Most of us don't make changes in our lives until way past time. That's how hard change is. Most of us go about our days, not realizing that the feelings of discontent or burnout or lack of energy or creativity, the negative relationships, or the dread, are all indicators that change is wanting to happen. Change starts telling us it's needed or imminent, if we pay attention and are willing. Change can be internal (how we think about something) or external (how we do something). Change will happen whether we want it to or not, whether we are ready or not. Sometimes we know exactly what needs to change, sometimes, we don't know what, but something needs to change.
Listen to your life. Look at what's happening in your life as if you've never seen it before. It's not right or wrong, better or worse, to make a change happen versus let a change happen. The real wisdom is accepting the change. Just accepting it.
My mom will sure love the title of this blog, because she raised us on protest and folk music of the 60s - it probably shaped the deepest parts of my brain in ways I'll never fully know - so I might as well leave you with a little Bob Dylan, who talks in his own way about acceptance, too:
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'
Read more: Bob Dylan - The Times They Are A-changin' Lyrics | MetroLyrics
Case in point: we live in a really old house - it was built in the 1860s, and though many updates have been made by various owners over the years (thankfully, we have indoor plumbing), we don't have a 'master suite', unlike many newer homes. The four of us in our family all share one upstairs bathroom. Even though we have a downstairs full bath, it's more convenient to shower by the bedroom.
Yet, the kids are getting older. My son and I have had a couple blood curdling (for him) run-ins when our downstairs toilet was broken and I was in the shower upstairs. The kids don't neatly fit around the sink to brush their teeth at night and the screaming and shoving matches at tooth-brushing time are more frequent and ridiculous. So over the weekend, my husband announces that he thinks the guys in our family should start using the downstairs bathroom. And I'm like, "Great idea!" But, then a little part of me gets sad (I know, it's weird). A little part of me is sad because the kids are growing up. What if spreading apart in physical space means growing apart? Listen, I know it's crazy. I'm just saying that that one little change, which is really a good thing and shows an acceptance of our family reality, has it's own little moments of grief.
Another bigger change occurred in my life in the past couple of weeks. For twelve years, since I became a mom, I've worked part time Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and two Saturdays a month. My weeks had a consistency and rhythm. It's just what I did and how I did it. Recently, I was given the opportunity to change my days to Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday and two Saturdays a month - and suddenly it seemed like this amazing opening of time. I hadn't realized how much I needed it until it was offered to me - a way to feel a sense of being more present - both present at home on my home days and present at work on my work days. A way for me to organize and compartmentalize my time. What an opportunity. And last week was my first week of that change. It felt great! But it also felt uncomfortable. It felt uncomfortable because it made other people uncomfortable. My change impacted my office mates in some good ways, in some ways they didn't like, and in some neutral ways. It made me kind of itchy on the insides because one of my issues is not being an issue to other people. It made me itchy on the insides because I'm a person of routine and my routine is shaken up.
I've been thinking about changes in our community/public life too - what change is happening, what it will look like, what part do I want to play? I am thinking today about my church and minister which is taking an active role in allying with the Black Lives Matter movement, and the football players at Mizzou. Something is changing in our racial culture and St. Louis and Missouri are an integral part of it. There is conflict, discomfort, burnout, dread. There is great discomfort on the part of both black people and white people. Change is happening, we just don't have the perspective of time to know what these changes really mean and what they will look like - it's not as simple as changing your workdays.
Most of us don't make changes in our lives until way past time. That's how hard change is. Most of us go about our days, not realizing that the feelings of discontent or burnout or lack of energy or creativity, the negative relationships, or the dread, are all indicators that change is wanting to happen. Change starts telling us it's needed or imminent, if we pay attention and are willing. Change can be internal (how we think about something) or external (how we do something). Change will happen whether we want it to or not, whether we are ready or not. Sometimes we know exactly what needs to change, sometimes, we don't know what, but something needs to change.
Listen to your life. Look at what's happening in your life as if you've never seen it before. It's not right or wrong, better or worse, to make a change happen versus let a change happen. The real wisdom is accepting the change. Just accepting it.
My mom will sure love the title of this blog, because she raised us on protest and folk music of the 60s - it probably shaped the deepest parts of my brain in ways I'll never fully know - so I might as well leave you with a little Bob Dylan, who talks in his own way about acceptance, too:
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'
Read more: Bob Dylan - The Times They Are A-changin' Lyrics | MetroLyrics
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
My Cure for Loneliness
It seems to me that most of the things that I've done 'right' in life (my criteria for 'right' is that so far they seem to have worked out well and had positive results over a period of time) have been mostly an accident. I tried something and it worked and I kept doing it and it kept working. So here's something: I feel connected to other people and I really like most people. I count myself lucky in that way because I sometimes hear from others that they feel lonely and disconnected and don't want to feel that way and wonder what they can do to change it. It's made me wonder what it is that I've done 'right' - why don't I feel that way? So here's what I'v come up with...
Utter helplessness. I feel connected to and caring for and liking and loving most people I encounter as a practiced response to utter helplessness in the face of death. I guess this means I'm getting ready to tell another hospice story -
When I worked in hospice, I often listened to the Be Good Tanyas while I drove around the city, county, and rural Missouri - a cover of the Neil Young song, For the Turnstiles. The line that just got me in my guts was this - 'Though your confidence may be shattered - it doesn't matter.' I came into social work like most good-hearted sorts of people - naive and probably a little irritating in our naivete or hubris - "I just want to help people,' But in the face of suffering, death, poverty and grief, I often felt helpless to help people. I quickly felt small.
So I went into Observer Mode - like noticing what helps and what doesn't as if I were gathering information for a research project. And what I saw was not every situation was bleak - sometimes things made a positive difference, even if it wasn't me. I wanted to find a pattern in that - what alleviates suffering, what helps?
I think of a man with late stage Alzheimer's, whose daughter came to the nursing home to have lunch with him literally every single day. He couldn't even remember her name and if you asked him about his daughter, he would say, "She never comes to visit me" in a bitter and lamenting tone. When he was finally dying, his daughter was stricken at his bedside. The nurse, an outspoken little Peruvian lady commanded the daughter - "Tell him you love him! He is waiting for that." When the daughter said, I love you, Dad, he sat straight up in bed after not having been able to sit up for days, and looked her right in the eye. In a few hours, he died.
I also witnessed less dramatic moments - another patient who had lost an adult child and had been on the receiving end of generally bad luck. In her late years she had become a lonely person, a hoarder, and lived in conditions that were quite overwhelming due to all the papers and junk in the house. Yet she was a sweet, gentle spirit and the hospice team really cared for her because she was with us a fairly long time. I don't think she had a very happy life, but I think the tenderness and care she received from extended family and hospice caregivers made a true difference in her quality of life and thought there was no pivotal moment of healing or change, I think she died feeling cared for.
So, what I began to notice was that love makes a difference. Some form of love that in Christian or Western tradition is called 'agape' - which means, the highest form of love, especially brotherly love, charity; the love of God for man and of man for God." (that's from Wikipedia) You might not be able to do much to change people or circumstances, but what happens, what opens up for someone when they feel your openness to them? When they feel heard and seen? When they feel liked?
I started saying to myself before I went to go visit a new patient - try to find something to love about them. When someone looks or feels like you on the outside, that kind of connection or love isn't that challenging to find, but if someone is very different, it can be harder. One patient that comes to mind is an African American man living in North County - his home was in disrepair and he had a fish tank overgrown with green slime, a big dead fish floating in the tank. I was challenged to not judge these circumstances, but what I found in being open and not judging was that he and I had something important in common. He shared with me that he had been a 'go go go' person in his youth and health - he was a do-er and his illness had robbed him of that. I felt I was a go go go person too and I wondered what illness and lack of financial resources would do to me. I felt connected to him because I looked for what we had in common, not what separated us. And he was kind enough to be open to that. After lots of hardship in life, not everyone is willing to be open to others - so I am grateful for that experience.
I think this started to become a habit for me - instead of worrying about whether other people like me, I flipped it almost all the time. What do I like about them? What do I see that's wonderful about them? The result, for me, has been a feeling of welcome in the world. I don't mean that I think everyone likes me because I like them - there very well may be people who don't like me at all, don't care if I like them, and God knows what else.
But again, what happens when your confidence is shattered? What happens when you are willing to be vulnerable, as Brene Brown http://brenebrown.com/ so often talks about. What happens when you're willing to give up trying to create an impression about yourself. I'm speaking only from my own experience when I suggest that instead of worrying about what others think of you, think about welcoming someone else, seeing something unique and beautiful in who the other person is. You can almost always find that thing if you look for it and when you see the unique and beautiful thing in another person, you don't feel alone or disconnected - you feel all the things most people want to feel - gratitude, joy and delight.
So I went into Observer Mode - like noticing what helps and what doesn't as if I were gathering information for a research project. And what I saw was not every situation was bleak - sometimes things made a positive difference, even if it wasn't me. I wanted to find a pattern in that - what alleviates suffering, what helps?
I think of a man with late stage Alzheimer's, whose daughter came to the nursing home to have lunch with him literally every single day. He couldn't even remember her name and if you asked him about his daughter, he would say, "She never comes to visit me" in a bitter and lamenting tone. When he was finally dying, his daughter was stricken at his bedside. The nurse, an outspoken little Peruvian lady commanded the daughter - "Tell him you love him! He is waiting for that." When the daughter said, I love you, Dad, he sat straight up in bed after not having been able to sit up for days, and looked her right in the eye. In a few hours, he died.
I also witnessed less dramatic moments - another patient who had lost an adult child and had been on the receiving end of generally bad luck. In her late years she had become a lonely person, a hoarder, and lived in conditions that were quite overwhelming due to all the papers and junk in the house. Yet she was a sweet, gentle spirit and the hospice team really cared for her because she was with us a fairly long time. I don't think she had a very happy life, but I think the tenderness and care she received from extended family and hospice caregivers made a true difference in her quality of life and thought there was no pivotal moment of healing or change, I think she died feeling cared for.
So, what I began to notice was that love makes a difference. Some form of love that in Christian or Western tradition is called 'agape' - which means, the highest form of love, especially brotherly love, charity; the love of God for man and of man for God." (that's from Wikipedia) You might not be able to do much to change people or circumstances, but what happens, what opens up for someone when they feel your openness to them? When they feel heard and seen? When they feel liked?
I started saying to myself before I went to go visit a new patient - try to find something to love about them. When someone looks or feels like you on the outside, that kind of connection or love isn't that challenging to find, but if someone is very different, it can be harder. One patient that comes to mind is an African American man living in North County - his home was in disrepair and he had a fish tank overgrown with green slime, a big dead fish floating in the tank. I was challenged to not judge these circumstances, but what I found in being open and not judging was that he and I had something important in common. He shared with me that he had been a 'go go go' person in his youth and health - he was a do-er and his illness had robbed him of that. I felt I was a go go go person too and I wondered what illness and lack of financial resources would do to me. I felt connected to him because I looked for what we had in common, not what separated us. And he was kind enough to be open to that. After lots of hardship in life, not everyone is willing to be open to others - so I am grateful for that experience.
I think this started to become a habit for me - instead of worrying about whether other people like me, I flipped it almost all the time. What do I like about them? What do I see that's wonderful about them? The result, for me, has been a feeling of welcome in the world. I don't mean that I think everyone likes me because I like them - there very well may be people who don't like me at all, don't care if I like them, and God knows what else.
But again, what happens when your confidence is shattered? What happens when you are willing to be vulnerable, as Brene Brown http://brenebrown.com/ so often talks about. What happens when you're willing to give up trying to create an impression about yourself. I'm speaking only from my own experience when I suggest that instead of worrying about what others think of you, think about welcoming someone else, seeing something unique and beautiful in who the other person is. You can almost always find that thing if you look for it and when you see the unique and beautiful thing in another person, you don't feel alone or disconnected - you feel all the things most people want to feel - gratitude, joy and delight.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
what I learned from Boy Scout camp
My son recently got back from a rain soaked week of Boy Scout camp. When I went to go pick him up, besides being disgusted by the smell of soggy pre teen boys, I was impressed that he'd toughed it out for a week under the 1960s type conditions. In fact, I think the camp has been relatively unchanged since the 1960s. The tents were canvas "A-frames", about 5 and half feet tall, with canvas 'doors' that don't zip shut. There are 2 to 4 cots per cabin, situated on a 1-inch tall wooden platform. When it rains, the water just flows under the little platform and the current carries the water through the tent and out the other side. When I say that everything my son brought to camp was wet, that is no exaggeration.
So we loaded up all that stinky, wet stuff in my car and we were off.
Driving home from camp, I was also quite impressed when he piped up, philosophically, "Mom, I made a realization yesterday." (He is not a very philosophical type. Though in my mother's heart, I harbor the secret hope that he is philosophical and just doesn't share that part with me).
He went on to say, "I've just realized that is takes a lot of blunders and mistakes before you get something right."
(Ah ha! I thought. Wisdom! This is a side benefit I was hoping he'd get from camp, in addition to leather-working). "Do you think you made blunders and mistakes this week?" I asked.
"Hundreds of them," he answered. "I just takes so many mistakes before you get a good system."
"What would you do different next time?" I asked.
"I'd zip my bag shut every time I opened it," he said. "Even if I didn't want to. Because I ended out with cockroaches in my bag."
That made me want to throw up, but he assured me that he'd killed them all. And I assured myself that not one item from camp would come in the house until it had been dumped on the back patio, any vermin killed and then the item would go straight to the washing machine or trash.
That all being said, I thought a lot about what my son said about blunders and mistakes over the past week or so since he got home. There is something both innocent and wise about knowing that life is just going to take a lot missteps on our part. It's nothing awful. It's nothing devastating to make a mistake. Just learn from it. Rework your system. Try a new system and maybe that will be a mistake too, but you can make some little change to that and try yet again.
As adults, we tend to fall into two camps: some of us take our mistakes really seriously and beat ourselves up for hours, days and weeks about them; others of us pretend we didn't make a mistake or blame somebody else for the mistake. I'd venture to guess that even people who seem to act as if they didn't make a mistake are really quite hard on themselves and that's why they're working so hard not to accept responsibility.
So maybe we could all gain from this practical/Boy Scout approach. Here we are everybody and we've got this life we're living We are doing are best. We really want everything to be good and right. But it's not always going to be. We're going to mess up. We're going to take the 'wrong' job, we're going to discipline our kids the 'wrong' way, we're going to make a bad investment, we're going to hurt someone's feelings, we're going to turn left when we should have turned right, we're going to judge someone unfairly. We are going to all of those things and more...sometimes.
Not all our mistakes are as obvious as cockroaches in our clothes, but if we slow down, ease up and know blunders and mistakes are just part of life, I bet that makes it easier to try again - do some little thing differently - and see what happens.
So we loaded up all that stinky, wet stuff in my car and we were off.
Driving home from camp, I was also quite impressed when he piped up, philosophically, "Mom, I made a realization yesterday." (He is not a very philosophical type. Though in my mother's heart, I harbor the secret hope that he is philosophical and just doesn't share that part with me).
He went on to say, "I've just realized that is takes a lot of blunders and mistakes before you get something right."
(Ah ha! I thought. Wisdom! This is a side benefit I was hoping he'd get from camp, in addition to leather-working). "Do you think you made blunders and mistakes this week?" I asked.
"Hundreds of them," he answered. "I just takes so many mistakes before you get a good system."
"What would you do different next time?" I asked.
"I'd zip my bag shut every time I opened it," he said. "Even if I didn't want to. Because I ended out with cockroaches in my bag."
That made me want to throw up, but he assured me that he'd killed them all. And I assured myself that not one item from camp would come in the house until it had been dumped on the back patio, any vermin killed and then the item would go straight to the washing machine or trash.
That all being said, I thought a lot about what my son said about blunders and mistakes over the past week or so since he got home. There is something both innocent and wise about knowing that life is just going to take a lot missteps on our part. It's nothing awful. It's nothing devastating to make a mistake. Just learn from it. Rework your system. Try a new system and maybe that will be a mistake too, but you can make some little change to that and try yet again.
As adults, we tend to fall into two camps: some of us take our mistakes really seriously and beat ourselves up for hours, days and weeks about them; others of us pretend we didn't make a mistake or blame somebody else for the mistake. I'd venture to guess that even people who seem to act as if they didn't make a mistake are really quite hard on themselves and that's why they're working so hard not to accept responsibility.
So maybe we could all gain from this practical/Boy Scout approach. Here we are everybody and we've got this life we're living We are doing are best. We really want everything to be good and right. But it's not always going to be. We're going to mess up. We're going to take the 'wrong' job, we're going to discipline our kids the 'wrong' way, we're going to make a bad investment, we're going to hurt someone's feelings, we're going to turn left when we should have turned right, we're going to judge someone unfairly. We are going to all of those things and more...sometimes.
Not all our mistakes are as obvious as cockroaches in our clothes, but if we slow down, ease up and know blunders and mistakes are just part of life, I bet that makes it easier to try again - do some little thing differently - and see what happens.
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