As a younger woman, one of the idiosyncratic things I carried some shame about for a long time, was being a 'secret smoker.' During college and for several years after that, a lot of my friends smoked cigarettes when they went out to the bars, socialized, etc. Because it was socially sanctioned, I joined in and had no shame about it. But, I also snuck off and smoked cigarettes at other times. I felt terrible about that type of smoking and put a lot of rules on myself. And being Miss Moderation, I largely followed the main rule: no more than 4 cigarettes a day. Okay five.
Why did I smoke,when besides being bad for me, it was such an aggravation to go through the elaborate rituals of trying to hide it (perfume, breath mints, hiding in alleys away from my bosses at work?) Why did I smoke, when I got mad at myself about it? There were a lot of reasons, but the one I want to talk about is how we tend to want to hold onto shame. How we sometimes cling to habits that give us an excuse to beat up on oursleves.
The theme of regrets and shame, how we are hard on ourselves, I've been really trying to examine this lately. Why do we judge ourselves so harshly? Do we judge others harshly? Sometimes. So if we judge others harshly, I guess it would make 'sense' to judge ourselves that way.
Yet for me personally, this has not been a problem. I'm just not judgmental. But I am a perfectionist with myself. I observe that many of us are very hard on ourselves and very forgiving of others. Why don't we turn that same compassion inward? What does our shame and regret serve? What does it not serve?
Being a parent has helped me with this, but it doesn't take a parent to get it. As a parent, there is nothing your kid could do that would make you not love them. There's a great scene with Lily Tomlin in a movie called "Flirting With Disaster", where she very dramatically clutches her chest and yells at her son "Even if you were Jeffrey Dahmer, we would still love you!" The whole movie is bizarrely hysterical.
And absurdly, it does make me think of my experience of love as a parent. One small example that comes to mind is when my then four year old daughter told a lie and got caught - I said, "Always tell me the truth and you will not get in as much trouble as if you lie and I find out." She bawled with shame, "I don't know why I have this mischief in me!" she said.
As a parent, as a human being, I felt compassion for her - I remembered feeling the way she felt when I was a kid - the feeling of being disappointed in yourself. I think there's a healthy aspect to it, because it can be a motivator to behavior change, but no part of me would ever want her to carry that disappointment with her forever. The parent in me says to the child in her, "Yes, you made a mistake. We all do that. We are human. Let's go on to the next set of choices and make better ones. I love you and always will, with all my heart, with all my self."
When we feel this unconditional love, we have some foundation from which to forgive our selves. We can let go more easily. We can say to ourselves, "Self, that sucks. But it's not the end of the world. Make your apologies if you need to and don't do it again." The shame is not something that we let define us.
If you are a parent, you know your child is inherently good and is most likely trying her best. Sometimes she doesn't do as well - when she is tired, when she's had many recent changes (school, teachers, schedules), when she is hungry, or sometimes she just has a bad day. How are you or I any different from this?
So here's what I propose. If you are struggling with the same habit, whether it's smoking, eating, a soured relationship, a bad temper, whatever- I propose talking to yourself like you are the most loving, fair parent in the world (I like to think of Atticus Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird). What might you say to yourself? Then, take the time to say it.
And if you don't take the time to say it, for goodness sakes, don't get mad at yourself about that. One of my favorite, flawed heroines, Scarlett O'Hara said it, and I agree - "Tomorrow is another day."
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
September 11, 2011
I grew up in a patriotic family. My dad, during my childhood, was conservative and my mom was liberal. My dad was in the Army reserves and my mom listened to Peter, Paul and Mary. I was rocked to sleep by my dad to soothing lullabies, like "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and "You're a Grand Old Flag." It brings a smile to my face, to tell you the truth. And, as a ten/eleven year old kid, I remember on many occasions. sitting at the dinner table, debating with my dad about nuclear capability. He was pro, I was con. When we visited Williamsburg on a family vacation, my sister recalls him provding a dramatic recitation of the Patrick Henry speech, "give me liberty, or give me death!" at one of the historic buildings.
Like many of us today, I remember the deep grief, dismay and fear I felt on September 11, 2001. I remember both my disappointment in aspects of mankind and my awe at the courage of our firefighters and other first responders.
So today, with our country, I remember and honor those who died on September 11 and those who lost loved ones.
I also honor what I believe is the hope of our country; the imagining, the vision of the Founding Fathers that says, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Because I grew up with this sense of history and duty to country, I've thought about the idea of "Give me liberty or give me death!" over the years - about the assumption and belief that certain things are worth dying for. It's not something to be said lightly. It's a mentality that can go awfully wrong. After September 11, 2001, we heard a lot about our 'enemies' who wanted to take away our freedom and destroy our American way of life. But, as we all have, I've witnessed some freedoms taken away by our own government, and I've seen our government act in some ways that our incongruent with the values that I thought we were supposed to stand for.
Still, when I really think about it, I am patriotic, even today. I am patriotic today, and it is in large part because of the ideas that our country was built on. I appreciate and celebrate and I do not for one second take for granted the freedom to write this very blog and express both my love of my country and also my ambivalance about some of our policies and leaders. I am patriotic today, and it is because I can utilize my freedom to imagine and speak of alternatives. So much has been made about threats to our American way of life. Yet, I wonder, what would our American way of life look like if the trillions of dollars we'd spent on wars in Iraq and Afghanistan had been spent, yes, on homeland security, but also on jobs, improving infrastructure, scientific research, education, improving conditions and opportunities in our poorer neighborhoods?
As I've been writing this blog, I've been thinking in particular about two words: liberty and mercy. Both imply choice in important ways, and both imply privilege. Liberty implies the power to choose among alternatives. Mercy is defined by "compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm." (The New Oxford American Dictionary).
When we feel downtrodden or unlucky or discouraged, we must admit to ourselves the truth. We are still from a nation of great privilege. This should not be damning, but it is a great responsibility. It is a responsibility to envision a future and articulate it. By the way we live our lives, conduct our business, govern our people, and wield what power we have, may the people of the United States and its leaders promote liberty and act with mercy for and toward all people and every nation.
Like many of us today, I remember the deep grief, dismay and fear I felt on September 11, 2001. I remember both my disappointment in aspects of mankind and my awe at the courage of our firefighters and other first responders.
So today, with our country, I remember and honor those who died on September 11 and those who lost loved ones.
I also honor what I believe is the hope of our country; the imagining, the vision of the Founding Fathers that says, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Because I grew up with this sense of history and duty to country, I've thought about the idea of "Give me liberty or give me death!" over the years - about the assumption and belief that certain things are worth dying for. It's not something to be said lightly. It's a mentality that can go awfully wrong. After September 11, 2001, we heard a lot about our 'enemies' who wanted to take away our freedom and destroy our American way of life. But, as we all have, I've witnessed some freedoms taken away by our own government, and I've seen our government act in some ways that our incongruent with the values that I thought we were supposed to stand for.
Still, when I really think about it, I am patriotic, even today. I am patriotic today, and it is in large part because of the ideas that our country was built on. I appreciate and celebrate and I do not for one second take for granted the freedom to write this very blog and express both my love of my country and also my ambivalance about some of our policies and leaders. I am patriotic today, and it is because I can utilize my freedom to imagine and speak of alternatives. So much has been made about threats to our American way of life. Yet, I wonder, what would our American way of life look like if the trillions of dollars we'd spent on wars in Iraq and Afghanistan had been spent, yes, on homeland security, but also on jobs, improving infrastructure, scientific research, education, improving conditions and opportunities in our poorer neighborhoods?
As I've been writing this blog, I've been thinking in particular about two words: liberty and mercy. Both imply choice in important ways, and both imply privilege. Liberty implies the power to choose among alternatives. Mercy is defined by "compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm." (The New Oxford American Dictionary).
When we feel downtrodden or unlucky or discouraged, we must admit to ourselves the truth. We are still from a nation of great privilege. This should not be damning, but it is a great responsibility. It is a responsibility to envision a future and articulate it. By the way we live our lives, conduct our business, govern our people, and wield what power we have, may the people of the United States and its leaders promote liberty and act with mercy for and toward all people and every nation.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Changing your strategy
I'm going to share a little bit about my eight year old boy. First, I'll tell a couple things I enjoy immensely about him, then I'll tell a story that is specific to him, but also universal to all of us at one time or another.
The boy is funny, but he doesn't share that with everyone. He's not like a comedian. He's also rather shy. So you have to know him pretty well to be privy to his sense of humor. The other day at dinner he looks over at me and says, "Mom. Have you ever thought about your job?
"What do you mean?" I say.
"You're a psycho. Therapist. Psycho. Therapist. You are a cuckoo therapist!" Well, I am glad we all know were we stand in my family and yes, I had actually thought about what a funny word "psychotherapist" is.
Another funny thing recently...I'm in the basement doing laundry and I hear him shouting "Mom, come up here - you're going to think this is hilarious!"
I come up and he's lying on the bed with his Calivin and Hobbes Book (It's a Magical World, I think). "Look at this one," he says.
It's one-frame and shows Calvin and Hobbes looking at a snowman that has a hot water bottle on its head. Hobbes says, "Why does that snowman have a hot water bottle on its head?" Calvin answers, "He's committing suicide."
Okay, so it's a little dark. Actually, I like that we can share Calvin and Hobbes, which I've always loved, as well as a general sense of humor.
So, now I'll tell you that my son picked up chess in the past eight months. He taught himself to play by reading The Dangerous Book for Boys, and dug up a chess board that was packed away in the basement. My husband and I were kind of delighted - chess is fun for adults (unlike, some other board games) and an adult and child can be equally skilled.
The boy entered his first amateur chess tournament the other weekend. As we drove over to the St. Louis Chess Club, he says, "Mom. I know my strategy. I'm going to play Hyper-Aggressive. Not a lot of people know how to handle Hyper-Aggressive."
I think to myself, "Here we go." But, I say something profound like "Oh."
God love my son, but he did not deviate from that Hyper-Aggressive strategy (and though I've never been an 8 year old boy, I can really feel that Hyper-Aggressive would feel like THE right strategy to an 8 year old boy). So, in four rounds he lost three and had a stalemate in one.
I love that my kid remains optimistic throughout the process. After each game, he'd look at me and say, "I still have another chance to win!"
We even left the chess club with a participation medal and got into the car, where he indeed, got upset about the losses.
I am not just saying this to be politically correct: I really don't really care if he wins or loses as long as he has fun. I am pretty emotionally detached from the win/lose process in any sport or game as far as my kids go. Yet I won't say this wasn't a stressful moment for both of us. I tried simply acknowledging how I could understand he was disappointed, but this didn't seem to be that helpful and maybe even escalated him.
Finally, what I said (okay, yelled), was "Honey, you had one strategy and you never changed it, even though you had evidence that it wasn't working. There are so many strategies in chess - why don't you pick another one and just try that and see what happens. If that doesn't work, find another strategy and see what happens. One of them will be a winning strategy."
I'm not sure if it took, but it occurred to me as the words were coming out of my mouth that the "stick with the strategy" mindset is a hinderance to many of us in many areas of our life. How many times do we keep trying the same strategy with a boss, a spouse, a parent, a career, a course of study, a life's ambition, a house project? Even when all the evidence says it's not working, we don't want to stop.
When I was telling the story of my son and the chess tournament to my friend, Jen, she said something like, "yeah, I think sometimes we blame our execution of the strategy and think if we just do more of the strategy that will change to outcome."
Sometimes, we don't give up our strategy as a matter of pride. Sometimes we don't give up our strategy because we don't know other strategies.
If we're stuck in life or not getting the results we want in a certain area, I recommend letting up a little, making room a little, trying something different. Why not? If we're not getting the result we want anyway, what do we have to lose?
The boy is funny, but he doesn't share that with everyone. He's not like a comedian. He's also rather shy. So you have to know him pretty well to be privy to his sense of humor. The other day at dinner he looks over at me and says, "Mom. Have you ever thought about your job?
"What do you mean?" I say.
"You're a psycho. Therapist. Psycho. Therapist. You are a cuckoo therapist!" Well, I am glad we all know were we stand in my family and yes, I had actually thought about what a funny word "psychotherapist" is.
Another funny thing recently...I'm in the basement doing laundry and I hear him shouting "Mom, come up here - you're going to think this is hilarious!"
I come up and he's lying on the bed with his Calivin and Hobbes Book (It's a Magical World, I think). "Look at this one," he says.
It's one-frame and shows Calvin and Hobbes looking at a snowman that has a hot water bottle on its head. Hobbes says, "Why does that snowman have a hot water bottle on its head?" Calvin answers, "He's committing suicide."
Okay, so it's a little dark. Actually, I like that we can share Calvin and Hobbes, which I've always loved, as well as a general sense of humor.
So, now I'll tell you that my son picked up chess in the past eight months. He taught himself to play by reading The Dangerous Book for Boys, and dug up a chess board that was packed away in the basement. My husband and I were kind of delighted - chess is fun for adults (unlike, some other board games) and an adult and child can be equally skilled.
The boy entered his first amateur chess tournament the other weekend. As we drove over to the St. Louis Chess Club, he says, "Mom. I know my strategy. I'm going to play Hyper-Aggressive. Not a lot of people know how to handle Hyper-Aggressive."
I think to myself, "Here we go." But, I say something profound like "Oh."
God love my son, but he did not deviate from that Hyper-Aggressive strategy (and though I've never been an 8 year old boy, I can really feel that Hyper-Aggressive would feel like THE right strategy to an 8 year old boy). So, in four rounds he lost three and had a stalemate in one.
I love that my kid remains optimistic throughout the process. After each game, he'd look at me and say, "I still have another chance to win!"
We even left the chess club with a participation medal and got into the car, where he indeed, got upset about the losses.
I am not just saying this to be politically correct: I really don't really care if he wins or loses as long as he has fun. I am pretty emotionally detached from the win/lose process in any sport or game as far as my kids go. Yet I won't say this wasn't a stressful moment for both of us. I tried simply acknowledging how I could understand he was disappointed, but this didn't seem to be that helpful and maybe even escalated him.
Finally, what I said (okay, yelled), was "Honey, you had one strategy and you never changed it, even though you had evidence that it wasn't working. There are so many strategies in chess - why don't you pick another one and just try that and see what happens. If that doesn't work, find another strategy and see what happens. One of them will be a winning strategy."
I'm not sure if it took, but it occurred to me as the words were coming out of my mouth that the "stick with the strategy" mindset is a hinderance to many of us in many areas of our life. How many times do we keep trying the same strategy with a boss, a spouse, a parent, a career, a course of study, a life's ambition, a house project? Even when all the evidence says it's not working, we don't want to stop.
When I was telling the story of my son and the chess tournament to my friend, Jen, she said something like, "yeah, I think sometimes we blame our execution of the strategy and think if we just do more of the strategy that will change to outcome."
Sometimes, we don't give up our strategy as a matter of pride. Sometimes we don't give up our strategy because we don't know other strategies.
If we're stuck in life or not getting the results we want in a certain area, I recommend letting up a little, making room a little, trying something different. Why not? If we're not getting the result we want anyway, what do we have to lose?
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.
Monday, August 8, 2011
my friend, Sandy, and I save the world in 1994
I met my friend Sandy when I moved to Georgetown, Washington, DC just after I graduated from college in 1994. Sandy and I are kindred spirit - we both enjoy a strange, sometimes ridiculous, and sometimes dark sense of humor. And in our own ways, we are both brooders. I'm sure we both brood less in 2011, being 17 years older. He and I often jogged together along the C & O Canal. I remember some beautiful Fall days along the river.
One particular conversation we had, probably while running...it was a brooding one. About the state of the world and how was anything ever going to get better? Luckily, we knew the answer. Even if it was an answer that may doom the world to eventual catastrophe because of its utter unlikelihood:
How are things ever going to get better? we asked ourselves in righteous, youthful cynicism.
"I THINK IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF MARTYRS." we decided.
"YES, THAT'S EXACTLY IT. IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF PEOPLE WHO ARE WILLING TO GIVE UP THINGS THEY WANT IN THE SHORT TERM TO MAKE LIFE BETTER FOR GENERATIONS TO COME IN THE LONG TERM." Probably, we then had to go listen to some Dave Matthews.
Yet, as I listened this past week, to the news about the debt ceiling, about the U.S. credit rating, the 'double dip' recession, I thought about two things: 1) this conversation with Sandy and 2) stories about my Gran.
My Gran lived to be 95 years old. She was born in 1908. When she was pregnant with my mom she went into labor in a rations line. During World War II, there was an enemy and it was clear what had to be done - everyone had to 'sacrifice' some short-term comforts like sugar, gasoline, etc in order to contribute toward the cause of victory.
The economy, politics, and looking at history really does intersect with our emotional health, both as a country and as individuals. Looking at the long term, big picture and foregoing immediate gratification takes emotional maturity.
Thomas Friedman wrote in the NYT last week about the need for prompt and 'collective action' to correct our economic situation http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/07/opinion/sunday/Friedman-win-together-or-lose-together.html?ref=thomaslfriedman .
I wonder if we can again be a nation of emotional maturity? Can we consider collective action without being reactionary and getting caught up in speech that automatically equates collective action with communism and threats to freedom? I think we can.
I also think it's a mark of mental health and maturity to take a realistic look and try to imagine all your options when you feel you're in a jam. Sometimes our options seem so far down the road, or so difficult for one person to try to achieve anything that we tend to throw our hands up and say, "I'll just deal with my own little piece of the world." That's okay. But I believe we all have one immediate option, should we choose to use it: let's talk about and bring into the public dialogue the fact that many of us feel and know that it is not a sacrifice to help make our earth, our country a more sustainable place in every way.
One particular conversation we had, probably while running...it was a brooding one. About the state of the world and how was anything ever going to get better? Luckily, we knew the answer. Even if it was an answer that may doom the world to eventual catastrophe because of its utter unlikelihood:
How are things ever going to get better? we asked ourselves in righteous, youthful cynicism.
"I THINK IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF MARTYRS." we decided.
"YES, THAT'S EXACTLY IT. IT'S GOING TO TAKE A GENERATION OF PEOPLE WHO ARE WILLING TO GIVE UP THINGS THEY WANT IN THE SHORT TERM TO MAKE LIFE BETTER FOR GENERATIONS TO COME IN THE LONG TERM." Probably, we then had to go listen to some Dave Matthews.
Yet, as I listened this past week, to the news about the debt ceiling, about the U.S. credit rating, the 'double dip' recession, I thought about two things: 1) this conversation with Sandy and 2) stories about my Gran.
My Gran lived to be 95 years old. She was born in 1908. When she was pregnant with my mom she went into labor in a rations line. During World War II, there was an enemy and it was clear what had to be done - everyone had to 'sacrifice' some short-term comforts like sugar, gasoline, etc in order to contribute toward the cause of victory.
The economy, politics, and looking at history really does intersect with our emotional health, both as a country and as individuals. Looking at the long term, big picture and foregoing immediate gratification takes emotional maturity.
Thomas Friedman wrote in the NYT last week about the need for prompt and 'collective action' to correct our economic situation http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/07/opinion/sunday/Friedman-win-together-or-lose-together.html?ref=thomaslfriedman .
I wonder if we can again be a nation of emotional maturity? Can we consider collective action without being reactionary and getting caught up in speech that automatically equates collective action with communism and threats to freedom? I think we can.
I also think it's a mark of mental health and maturity to take a realistic look and try to imagine all your options when you feel you're in a jam. Sometimes our options seem so far down the road, or so difficult for one person to try to achieve anything that we tend to throw our hands up and say, "I'll just deal with my own little piece of the world." That's okay. But I believe we all have one immediate option, should we choose to use it: let's talk about and bring into the public dialogue the fact that many of us feel and know that it is not a sacrifice to help make our earth, our country a more sustainable place in every way.
Friday, July 29, 2011
little things make a difference
I'm trying to eat better.
What do I mean by better? Well, lots of things. In the past few years some new information has slowly been seeping into my brain and consciousness. It began when my daughter was born and people asked me if I was going to let her have regular milk or 'organic.' "You know," these people told me, '"all the hormones they give cows is what's making girls develop younger.'" Well, come to think of it, it did seem to me like teenage girls were much more 'developed' than when I was a teenager. (This is making me think of Judy Blume!) And as a parent, suddenly it seemed important to prolong childhood as long as possible. Despite my husband protesting about the expense of it, we began buying organic milk.
This is only to say that I am no saint. My motives aren't always, initially anyway, for world betterment. I'm just saying this is how my plan to eat better began. And as you read on, I guess I am going to grossly oversimplify a lot of what some really smart people have said.
In the past couple years, I also skimmed through The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Among other things, he suggests that a lot of what we eat, our grandparents wouldn't even recognize as food. He also talks about farming and environmental impacts of the way we farm and concerns about sustainability. Here's an article I just looked at in the past week. http://www.good.is/post/hold-the-lamb-eat-more-lentils-new-guide-ranks-proteins-by-carbon-footprint/
This past spring , I watched Food, Inc. and saw some of the conditions that some of our livestock are raised in and the copious amounts of corn fed to our cows, for example. I was amazed to learn about corn and its ubiquity in food and other products available in our grocery stores. I started reading labels. Wow. Corn.
Simultaneously, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and I began facilitating a young women's breast cancer support group for the Cancer Support Community. I researched links between diet and breast cancer. New insights are gained all the time, but here is a reliable, balanced link: http://www.livestrong.com/article/377091-is-there-a-link-between-breast-cancer-diet/s
What does this have to do with mental health/emotional well being?
I'm about to make a weird leap, but I hope you'll stick with me: many people have heard of the Butterfly Effect, which is really a demonstration of 'chaos theory.' (A butterfly flutters its wings in Peru and it causes a wind effect that eventually leads to a hurricane in Australia). The idea is that seemingly chaotic, random events may be caused by a precise set of circumstances at the start - if we can isolate all the beginning variables, then we can understand how the so-called chaotic event happened.
Really, it's just that I believe everything is interconnected. How I care about myself, how I care about the planet, how I care about all living creatures makes a difference. How you care about yourself, the planet, others, makes a difference. We might make little differences - at least that's what we see, but it's possible, in the end, we make a big difference (just like the butterfly).
So, I'm eating more consciously. Not perfectly. It's just one little thing.
What do I mean by better? Well, lots of things. In the past few years some new information has slowly been seeping into my brain and consciousness. It began when my daughter was born and people asked me if I was going to let her have regular milk or 'organic.' "You know," these people told me, '"all the hormones they give cows is what's making girls develop younger.'" Well, come to think of it, it did seem to me like teenage girls were much more 'developed' than when I was a teenager. (This is making me think of Judy Blume!) And as a parent, suddenly it seemed important to prolong childhood as long as possible. Despite my husband protesting about the expense of it, we began buying organic milk.
This is only to say that I am no saint. My motives aren't always, initially anyway, for world betterment. I'm just saying this is how my plan to eat better began. And as you read on, I guess I am going to grossly oversimplify a lot of what some really smart people have said.
In the past couple years, I also skimmed through The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Among other things, he suggests that a lot of what we eat, our grandparents wouldn't even recognize as food. He also talks about farming and environmental impacts of the way we farm and concerns about sustainability. Here's an article I just looked at in the past week. http://www.good.is/post/hold-the-lamb-eat-more-lentils-new-guide-ranks-proteins-by-carbon-footprint/
This past spring , I watched Food, Inc. and saw some of the conditions that some of our livestock are raised in and the copious amounts of corn fed to our cows, for example. I was amazed to learn about corn and its ubiquity in food and other products available in our grocery stores. I started reading labels. Wow. Corn.
Simultaneously, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and I began facilitating a young women's breast cancer support group for the Cancer Support Community. I researched links between diet and breast cancer. New insights are gained all the time, but here is a reliable, balanced link: http://www.livestrong.com/article/377091-is-there-a-link-between-breast-cancer-diet/s
What does this have to do with mental health/emotional well being?
I'm about to make a weird leap, but I hope you'll stick with me: many people have heard of the Butterfly Effect, which is really a demonstration of 'chaos theory.' (A butterfly flutters its wings in Peru and it causes a wind effect that eventually leads to a hurricane in Australia). The idea is that seemingly chaotic, random events may be caused by a precise set of circumstances at the start - if we can isolate all the beginning variables, then we can understand how the so-called chaotic event happened.
Really, it's just that I believe everything is interconnected. How I care about myself, how I care about the planet, how I care about all living creatures makes a difference. How you care about yourself, the planet, others, makes a difference. We might make little differences - at least that's what we see, but it's possible, in the end, we make a big difference (just like the butterfly).
So, I'm eating more consciously. Not perfectly. It's just one little thing.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
it's good to...hope
In the past few months, we got rid of cable and now filter our tv viewing through Netflix/Hulu. I do miss The Real Housewives. I really, really do. BUT. I am in the middle of the first season of Glee and I am loving it. I think it's kind of a summer thing - some kind of nostalgia for youth, but not like "Glory Days" nostalgia, more like an appreciation of youthfulness. I especially like Glee because the youth portrayed seems more believable to me than, say Gossip Girls (I've never watched it, but they seem way more sophisticated than my suburban St. Louis high school.) Glee's youth, at least in the first season, is actually kind of innocent and full of music. This youth is full of un-coolness, and a lack of irony. This was my kind of youth.
There's a lot that is painful and embarassing about it, but this is the thing I like about youth and I'm being reminded in a number of places - from the pool, to Glee, to the "bios" for my kids' zoo camp counselors: youth hopes. It might be frivolous, missplaced, or unrealistic, but it is hope! It hasn't been beaten out them. Remember the melodramatic scene in The Breakfast Club (as if there's only one melodramatic scene!), where Allly Sheedy's character says, "when you grow up (dramatic pause) your heart dies.' Well, it can be kind of true. Being grown up often runs the gamut from kind of hard to very hard.
For my mental health, it's nice to occasionally indulge in some of that innocent pleasure called hope and exuberance. Sometimes I have to seek it out because it's not finding me - I watch Glee or I listen to a song that conveys something awesome to me. No matter how cool or grown up I think I am, I get chills and feel like falling in love every time I hear "Don't Stop Believing" (Journey, circa 1981).
I think I've written before here that the Dalai Lama cautions against hope, because it reflects an attachment to an outcome. I am here to say, in this instance (and probably only this instance) I disagree with the Dalai Lama. I think there's something awesome about hoping - not for any specific thing, but allowing yourself, for a few moments to just hope. Who knows what the future will be, but for a little while, let yourself imagine nothing in particular, but that it's a really good one.
One last thought - I found a fun website that makes me feel good and interested, and I sometimes hopeful: http://www.good.is/
There's a lot that is painful and embarassing about it, but this is the thing I like about youth and I'm being reminded in a number of places - from the pool, to Glee, to the "bios" for my kids' zoo camp counselors: youth hopes. It might be frivolous, missplaced, or unrealistic, but it is hope! It hasn't been beaten out them. Remember the melodramatic scene in The Breakfast Club (as if there's only one melodramatic scene!), where Allly Sheedy's character says, "when you grow up (dramatic pause) your heart dies.' Well, it can be kind of true. Being grown up often runs the gamut from kind of hard to very hard.
For my mental health, it's nice to occasionally indulge in some of that innocent pleasure called hope and exuberance. Sometimes I have to seek it out because it's not finding me - I watch Glee or I listen to a song that conveys something awesome to me. No matter how cool or grown up I think I am, I get chills and feel like falling in love every time I hear "Don't Stop Believing" (Journey, circa 1981).
I think I've written before here that the Dalai Lama cautions against hope, because it reflects an attachment to an outcome. I am here to say, in this instance (and probably only this instance) I disagree with the Dalai Lama. I think there's something awesome about hoping - not for any specific thing, but allowing yourself, for a few moments to just hope. Who knows what the future will be, but for a little while, let yourself imagine nothing in particular, but that it's a really good one.
One last thought - I found a fun website that makes me feel good and interested, and I sometimes hopeful: http://www.good.is/
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