Category: Expectations

Grade on the curve

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Racing through our daily lives, maintaining the breakneck pace that seems essential to not sink in today’s economy (or with current standards for parenting), you are normal if you check out the competition. How is your neighbor doing? Or your coworker? Are you the only one treading water, trying not to get sucked into the undertow? This type of social comparison seems as essential to our self-image as the pace itself. And, like most of us, you are certain that you are the only one struggling. Everyone else seems to be breezing along, gaily checking off items on their “to do” lists, while you can’t find that shred of McDonald’s placement scribbled with the grocery list. It’s probably under the bed with the dust bunnies which are steadily approaching the size of county fair champion rabbits.

NEWS FLASH: Everyone is in the same boat. No one is achieving 110%. Everyone is compromising, economizing, or sighing at day’s end because something got dropped. I say it’s about time to give ourselves a grade based on the curve.

Remember grading on the curve in school? If a test was particularly difficult, and no one achieved a perfect score, the grading scale was adjusted. A score of 80% could then be the highest grade anyone received, and all the grades were raised accordingly.

In high school, I was the curve-wrecker. Called this lovely term by one and all, and factually it probably was true. But once real life hit (aka children), I lost–and have never regained– that ability to be on time, have all the dishes loaded, dust under the bed, balance the work load, throw the perfect party while I remodel the house and author a book. I maintain a facade just like everyone else. Once I allowed myself to switch gears and adopt a new strategy, the curve wrecker mentality happily fizzled out.

By my informal assessment, in my life and my office, we each heartily believe that we are the only person doing “B” work. Sounds to me like everybody is doing B work, and it’s time for the curve. The daily expectations are for perfection–A++, 110%–and by definition, that’s impossible.

Embrace that you are doing the best you can. It’s your best, and what others are achieving has nothing to do with you. But here’s the secret: no one is actually getting 100% done. Let’s just all admit that and activate that grading curve next time we are tempted to compare our accomplishments to the next person.

What a waste!

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In that stuck place of our all or nothing, black and white thinking, this phrase is uttered often, particularly when contemplating change.  Having invested in a certain path, we think we must stay the course. For how long? Basically forever, it seems. This is how I hear it–again and again (and even have been known to utter it myself):

“But all those years in school to prepare me for this career! Seems like if I switch gears, all that is a waste.” (This seems particularly pressing when the speaker has student loans, but time invested is also important.)

“I’ve been in this relationship this long. How could I throw it all away?”

“We bought this house–or made this move–certainly we should hang in there. It would just be money down the drain.”

“I lost all this weight. It’s a shame to gain it all back. Guess I’ll just quit trying.”

This is one key moment to exclaim “who’s says?” I believe every path, every choice, every bit of time spent in any portion of our lives is an invaluable investment in shaping our lives. What have you learned in this open-to-question adventure? How has this lived experience brought you to where you need to be, launching you into the next step? There is no incorrect step, no perfect path. What you have done is the ideal preparation for what comes next.

Cognitive dissonance theory explains how our thinking automatically adapts to believe that wherever we are is THE RIGHT PLACE.  That car you purchased, the house you bought, the partner you chose? Your brain wants equilibrium, so adapts to believe that there is a single correct choice. And that choice is where you are. The problem arises when this line of thinking prevents us from moving forward, growing, changing. Yes, we loved that first Commodore 64 computer! But it’s laughable today, when our phones contain more memory and power. To continue to stick with that device, just because it was the choice you made, would be a waste.

Unquestioningly, you would not be where you are now without those very steps that you are second-guessing or dismissing. No waste. Just what you needed to do, or learn, or live. Accepting where you are moving i’s just another way to practice self-compassion. Embrace it.

Happy Holidays!

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Make a list of the good stuff as you move through the chaos and mess this holiday season. Our brains are like Velcro for the negative: the tears, the undone tasks, the misses on gifts, the tension. If you stop and mindfully record what is good each day, each hour, you will help that same brain, which naturally tends to be like Teflon for positive, zero in on the successes. Research suggests that the ratio is 7:1. We need seven happy events, kind words, compliments, or hugs to outweigh each tense, stressed, angry or irritable event. Make memories of the positive by letting it sink into your own brain. And try dishing out the positive in greater quantities to those around you as well.

Thanks for your readership! I hope you, your loved ones, and friends have wonderful, relaxing, vibrant holidays, whatever your celebrations. I’ll be back next week with some ideas for realistic New Year’s resolutions.

The most essential gift

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Scurrying to and fro, compiling lists, searching for ideas on the interwebs, as hours dissolve into thin air–all to nail down the perfect gift for everyone on your list? There’s that impossible challenge again: the perfection quest. There is a gift that we can give to family, friends, loved ones, co-workers, that no one is going to return or reject. In my experience, at least, listening to countless souls, whether in office, classroom, or my personal life.

What is this magical–yet free, readily available, no need to wait for free shipping or that deep discount sale–gift? Validation. Empathy. Listening and offering a heartfelt expression of “poor baby.” “I get it; I SO know where you are coming from.” “How hard.” “Yes, that sucks.” We have a universal need to have our emotional experience confirmed. Validation helps us feel normal; whatever we are feeling has been experienced by others. It lets us feel connected; if others can identify and get it, we must not be alone.

Offering validation is just like kissing boo-boos. Kissing boo-boos works, whether dispensed by actually touching a skinned knee or uttering simple words through those lips. Recent research has shown that the touch of a mother’s lips on a child’s bumps, bruises, and scrapes actually causes a chemical reaction that speeds healing. And in other research, the sound of a mother’s voice on the telephone released the hormone oxytocin, to calm the anxieties of girls just as well as having an actual hug from mom.

Mid-November, I was excited and geared up to FINALLY install the wooden floor in the ongoing (inching toward two years) bedroom remodeling project at my house. I spent nearly a whole day clearing out the bedroom, a pile of work-related detritus overflowing from the adjacent bathroom remodel. I had carefully shopped for the ideal flooring, settling on a brand I’d used previously because it had worked so well. I picked up the special-order flooring on Weds., allowing the requisite 48 hours for the flooring to acclimate to my home before the install. Saturday morning, I gleefully opened the boxes and launched into the piles of click-lock floor. Opening three full boxes yielded only three boards without flaws. I was frustrated, close to tears as I loaded the flooring into the car to return to the home store.

Expressing my frustration to the first four people I encountered only increased my pain, as each readily stepped up to the task of loading, unloading, returning the goods–without one validating comment. Not one “poor baby” “how frustrating” “I’m sorry that happened to you” phrase was uttered. They all just looked at me blankly, and did what they needed to do. The true gifts came first from my daughter, via phone, with her succinct validation: “that sucks!” and later when my mom called that evening. Upon hearing my sad lament about the stalled-once-more project, my mother promptly exclaimed “how devastating. You sound so disappointed. I’m so sorry.” I could really hear the empathy in her voice, and she’s my mom, and I felt truly better, finally.

As I’ve noted before, we readily offer compassion and acceptance to our children, while being hard on ourselves. This gift of acknowledgement of emotions has no “2-12 years” limit. And while mom’s voice gives it added oomph, anyone can give this validation. The key essential ingredients are that you truly get the other’s feelings, even if you haven’t been there yourself exactly. You dig down deep and remember a time when you were sad, frustrated, or angry, and you offer that validation. And healing begins.

Not just a gift for the winter holidays, either. Always in season.

Advance Planning on SOD*

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It’s inching into that time of year: the TV commercials, glossy magazines, and local newspaper lifestyle sections are brimming with foodie suggestions for the upcoming holidays. Feel just like Pavlov’s dog reading all the yummy ideas, salivating at will. Along with all that temptation of delicious food comes what one organization has dubbed SOD: seasonal overindulgence disorder*. I think that title has nailed the problem. We certainly want to treat ourselves and indulge in the holiday eating splendor. It’s the OVERindulging that’s a problem.

The way we approach the holiday foodie excesses is laden with black and white, all or nothing thinking. Why not stuff yourself? “I’m having some, so may as well go all out!” Or perhaps, “it’s the holidays–let’s celebrate!” Worry about the excess pounds in January, when austerity on the plate is expected. It’s an uncommon mindset to enjoy the indulgence in small doses–or portions. Indulgence just seems equivalent to excess.

With a small bit of advance planning, you can avoid the 5-7 pound (or more!) holiday pound pack-on. The National Institute for the Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine (NICABM) is offering practical, concrete strategies to get through this season of heaping plates and ignoring hunger signals. Research has shown that changing just three small habits can make a very big impact on weight maintenance. You can follow the link above, but here’s a sampling of three tips to try. Visit the site and check out the full list if these three don’t speak to you. The most important factor in any behavior change is picking strategies that are a fit for you!

1. Eat in a well-lit room. You eat less when you can see what you’re eating. Not exactly party atmosphere, but you can be prepared!
2. Keep the bones. We have a better sense of how much we’ve eaten when we can see the evidence. This could mean keeping empty beer bottles lined up on the table or hot wing bones on a side plate.
3. Use the 1/2 rule. Aim for 1/2 as much protein and carbohydrates while doubling your servings of vegetables and fruit.

Who says you have to succumb to SOD and too-tight pants in 2012? This is one perfect example of “control what you can.” Just three things! And if you want to really indulge in the science and solutions psychology and medicine have to offer on this topic, consider signing up for NICABM’s free seminar on nutrition. I’ll be listening and hope to share some of the knowledge here, but it’s free to listen at the time of broadcast.

Don’t take it personally

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Guilt–it’s one of the most common feelings. We feel badly when someone we encounter is disappointed, angry, depressed–and we tend to feel it’s our fault. Lots of energy goes into this belief in our heads, especially in relationships. (Though I have found this to be a common belief in interaction with strangers as well.) Your significant other is quiet and sulky. A friend snubs you at a party. The boss finds fault with a project you completed. A service employee looks at you wrong. The automatic response in your head is “what did I do?” Or even “I screwed up.” The default reaction implies that event A–something you did–led to event B–the negative reaction of the other party.  We take the reactions of others quite personally, particularly when we’re stressed and running on empty.

Over the years, shifting this perspective has been one of the biggest challenges I’ve faced. Women, in particular, are socialized in this culture to believe that others’ feelings are our responsibility. From an early age, we’re questioned and/or chided, “did you make your friend cry?” “Don’t make me mad.” One strategy that does help is encouraging the guilt-ridden to stop and consider alternative explanations. Ask yourself, when that guilt about another’s feelings arises, “what could be going on that’s NOT my fault?”

Recently, however, I read The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom . One of the agreements that Don Miguel Ruiz advises is “don’t take things personally.” Rather than simply saying “it’s not about you,” an idea I have tried to “sell” unsuccessfully for some time, he suggests a powerful perspective shift. Ruiz says when we believe someone else’s feelings are our fault, that exaggerates our own importance. Who says we are that powerful, that moods all around us stem from our actions? Are we that critical in the lives of others? I think not.

There seems to be a paradox in why this alternative view appeals to the guilt-ridden. Just like we’re taught (incorrectly) at an early age that “good girls” make others angry or hurt, so are we taught that good girls don’t brag. Good girls aren’t self-centered. Yet when we attribute the power for another’s feelings to our actions, we are doing just that: claiming powers that are an illusion. (For once, the social training that creates the problem also contains the solution!)

No one has that much power. The flip side of the argument makes this clear. When a two year old (or a thirteen year old) is really upset, do you have the power to make it all better–especially if they’re entrenched in that mood? Maybe you’re more powerful than me, but I never succeeded at that.

Next time the guilt rushes in about another’s emotions, don’t take it personally. Sure, check it out if you want, making sure there’s no transgression on your part. But the majority of the time, moods originate within, and we only inflate our importance when we assume otherwise.

Culture shock, USA style

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First of all, please forgive the quiet around here. Or, to shift perspective as I’m always wont to do, consider it my small October gift to you. My lack of post meant one less thing to do on your list. Excuses, excuses: illness, taking on a new task of teaching at the community college, a never-ending home-redo project, and a real bit of vacation have kept me from posting.

The vacation put me into culture shock. You’d think I’d have to venture to Bhutan, or Siberia, or some other exotic locale to experience a real change of venue. But no, I was in Seattle. Here was the first clue that I was NOT in Texas:

At casual glance, you may ask: so what, iced tea. The perspective got a bit skewed transferring the picture from my phone to the computer, so the glasses look like the quintessential Texas quart size. So note the normal size tea spoon for comparison.

The second behavior change required while walking around Seattle was the stop lights. The guidebook stated that pedestrians could get ticketed for crossing against the light. Must wait for the little white walking-person light that means go! And all the Seattle-ites stop and wait. And breathe, I assume. Most cities I’ve visited, Dallas and NYC in particular, are filled with pedestrians eager to play chicken and dash whenever they can. No time to waste! Ten seconds at stake here!

Then there were the ferries. Line up in your car–and sit and wait some more. We missed the ferry to Whidbey Island and had to wile away the wait, sauntering around to view the scenery. Just a way of life: to wait, rather than hurtle through space at breakneck speed.

And scenery? Mind-boggling after so much time on the Blackland prairie of North Texas. Mt. Rainier here, Mt. Baker there, Olympic mountains over there. Greenery, lakes, sunsets over the water: a view in every direction.

Who says life has to be this hurried pace? We hurry, intent on earning a living, achieving, striving, 168 hours a week. Maybe those quarts of iced tea rev us up too much. Seattle manages a slower pace quite well, as the home to great accomplishments like those of Microsoft, Boeing, The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation (where the very well-dressed homeless, some equipped with laptop bags, lined up each night for vinyl-covered sleeping pad distribution.)

And the sun was shining every day. I’m now even more intent on sloooowwwwwing down. Pardon me while I stop and breathe.

Truth in advertising

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The phone rang. I still have a land line, though callers on that line other than political, nonprofit, and home remodeling solicitors are few. So I check the caller ID before I pick up. And this is what I saw:

I was literally rolling on the floor laughing. How transparent! I didn’t pick it up (hmm, did I really need to clarify that point?). The machine did, promptly recording a message about the super low interest rate I could receive on my credit card if I’d just call promptly. I wondered how this happened. What company lists it’s business name as “phone scam”? Really?!?

The more I pondered, however, the more impressed I became. How freeing, to be able to be completely honest about who you are. Moving through life, how often do we truly embrace this concept? It’s a socially-accepted construct to put our best self forward. Everyone wants to look like they’re breezing through life, no problems, loving their lives, ever-confident. Sounds like another version of pretending to be superman/woman to me.

It takes so much energy to hold up that mask. Exhausting after awhile. It also distances us from each other. We back off on sharing trials, angst-ridden moments, frustrations, fearing that we will look weak. Certainly we are the only ones stumbling, since no one else talks about it. Must be we are deficient. The problem seems our ability to excel–not the less-than-honest story-telling.

When I turned 50, the impact of having lived half a century felt heavy. I no longer wanted to put on a front, hiding my true self. And I ran with the sudden impulse to present myself as I am. Some friends drifted away, confused looks on their faces as I spoke up in matter-of-fact ways they’d never witnessed. Some activities I let slide. I got pretty good at saying “I don’t know” and “I’m sorry, I screwed up” and “I disagree” and “Please don’t treat me that way.” I started honestly living my full warty self.

I’m human. I make mistakes. I’m good at many things and lousy at others. Being honest about who I am is freeing, and while difficult at first, appears to take less energy eventually, leaving more for creating the life I want to live. Proclaiming the equivalent of “phone scam” in my own life is not a single event, however. It’s a step down the path to living the right life. This step for me was important ground work for growth, for embracing self-compassion, for building a life infused with joy.

Once is enough

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Self-compassion is a favorite focus of mine–with the goal that we all want to beat ourselves up a little less each day. In our human habit of black and white thinking, there’s the tendency to think that means letting ourselves off the hook for any mistakes. That would be dysfunctional, unhealthy, like we’re getting away with proverbial murder.

It is healthy to evaluate our failures in order to correct our course and grow. But need to punish or judge ourselves, for character building, exists once. But only once. Would you have a criminal punished again and again? Isn’t that what we do when we relentlessly chastise ourselves for our human failings?

The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz addresses this human tendency to make ourselves pay for a mistake thousands of times. Other creatures make a mistake, learn from it, and move on. True justice, says Ruiz, is paying only once for an error. True injustice is repeatedly punishing ourselves, through guilt, shame, and self-derogatory talk.

When I was a teenager, learning to drive, we had a three foot diameter maple tree on the absolute edge of our home’s driveway. This tree abutted the black top–no grass for buffering error. Backing the car out of the driveway meant the tree loomed and teased, begging me to scrape up against it, every time. Most of the time I drove my dad’s VW Beetle, so it was easy to miss the tree. After I’d been driving some months, my dad let me drive the big fancy sedan, necessary to haul our little Sunfish sailboat, to the local lake. He was so worried about me taking the big family car and driving an hour away, boat on top. I promised I’d be so careful, and I worried all day, even making my friends walk farther across the hot parking lot in bare feet, boat in the air, so I could park FAR away from other cars. All went well. No scrapes for the car, all the way to the lake and back. We unloaded the boat, and I had to back the big car out of the drive once more to let my sister out of the drive with the VW. The sickening sound of the driver’s side front fender on that tree, on this final backing, is forever burned in my brain. As is the shame. My dad wasn’t even that mad–but I felt terrible. Even though my big sister had driven this same big sedan into a HUGE ditch the year before, miles from civilization in a Canadian campground, and she’d survived.

Not only do we punish ourselves on multiple occasions for the same flaw, we often punish those we love as well: every time we remember their mistake. We label, categorize, and judge–based on one incident. Whether we are judging ourselves or others, once is enough. Talk it out with yourself or your loved one, and let it go. If it recurs, revisit the issue. Otherwise, offer some compassion, remember the ratio of good to bad, and move on.

I think I’m ready to let go of that visceral memory. Here it goes: floating away like an errant helium balloon. Have any of your own balloons to release? Join me–I feel better already.

It’s not a super path

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Superman/woman syndrome is a sneaky snake in current culture. No matter how many times we’ve heard it, somewhere deep within we harbor the feeling that we can do it all, being all things to all people. This myth dies hard. In straight thinking moments–or days–we embrace the bunk that is superwoman/man, and free ourselves from those expectations. Hurray for a small dose of reality.

However, even when we readily admit that we can’t achieve superpowers, a sneaky leftover part of that drive to be super deserves the ‘who says’ challenge: beliefs about the path to change. We still expect to be like Superman himself, clearing buildings in a single bound. The one-click culture encourages us to expect change to happen just like that. Click off the old behavior, click on the new. Door open or door closed. Instant change and everything is now rosy–i.e. perfect.

Magic wand at the ready, I wish it were this way myself. (Though of course that would mean I was out of a job and I’m not quite ready to retire.) The reality is that it’s a path, often a twisting path at that. It’s two steps forward, then one back. Or it’s a spiral, my favorite illustration about moving toward change, cycling by the same issues again and again, reworking and fine-tuning as we make our way to the goal at the top.

Accepting this winding path as reality stops that old automatic “failure” thinking. When we stumble, or it seems that we are NOT achieving that goal in a single leap, we lose track of the big picture. We conclude that we’ve failed. Time to step back and see that you are on the path. It’s just not a single step, or even a song and dance two-step.

Have a little self-compassion. No single leaps aided by a ruby cape. Just steadily wind your way up the stairs, or along the path, and you’ll soon be where you wish to be. Enjoy the climb.