Category: Expectations

Confessions of a former skeptic

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True confessions time. I’ve been preaching this mind-body transformation stuff–yoga, meditation, etc.–pretty much nonstop lately. A friend was surprised when I mentioned how I was a recent convert. Even five years ago, I eschewed all but active exercise: walking, swimming, racquetball. I openly scoffed when someone mentioned yoga. It sounded passive, boring, useless. I simply wasn’t interested, prey to the stereotype that yoga was nothing more than sitting around, maybe stretching a bit. I hated stretching. And meditation? That was what my dad claimed to be doing each afternoon, snoring away under the newspaper, stretched out on the couch.

Then I developed what I dubbed “therapist’s neck and shoulders.” Kind of like tennis elbow or housewife’s knee, where the affected body part is constantly sore from overuse. After six hours daily in “attending posture,” i.e. leaning forward, shoulders hunched forward as I listened attentively, my neck and shoulders were chronically sore. I even developed “frozen shoulder,” making me unable to reach my own dress zipper. Five months of physical therapy ensued, with exercises, (including that hand-bicycling machine that made me feel like I was 90,) stretching by the physical therapist, smelly creams, X-rays, hot pads, and weird devices sending electricity into my shoulder. My therapist finally released me, recommending acupuncture since he could not help me any further. Since health insurance didn’t cover acupuncture, I tried chiropractic. More stretching, cracking, hot pads, creams, and electric devices. I was a bit better. Then the chiropractor suggested I try yoga. I was already doing pilates, which I did enjoy. I succumbed–yoga was offered at my health club.

Surprising bottom line: yoga cured my shoulder problem. I can tie the release of those constantly knotted muscles to one particular stretch, extended child’s pose. Before I knew it, I was hooked. Yoga was the best part of my week. My eating became more mindful. I lost 25 pounds–and have kept it off for almost three years. My cholesterol dropped from 335 to 220. Friends raved about my new look, and I wowed a few at my 35 year high school reunion. I felt calmer.

That led to exploring yoga’s cousin, meditation. I got hooked on that as well, completing the Chopra Center’s 21 day meditation challenge. (Another round begins next week–check it out.) Just as davidji, who leads those meditations promises, I was moving through my life with greater grace. I had more patience. I could let go of the pain that accumulates through my work more easily. I’d seen the research on the value of these mind-body practices, and now I was living the benefit.

That’s the back story, which I’ve shared in hopes of inspiring my readers. I’m now a certified yoga instructor. Beginning in February, I’m launching group meditation training in my office. I hope to lead wellness retreats this year, integrating these new passions with my focus on teaching others to take better care of themselves.

Let me know if I can share any of these passions with you. Just email me at ann{at}anndunnewold.com. You, too, could share these benefits.

A New Year’s message–tardy at best

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Happy New Year to all my loyal readers . . .paired with a heartfelt apology about letting this blog drift so far down my ‘To Do’ list. I resolve to write weekly in 2011, as writing this blog is dear to my heart and adds vitality to my life. Back in November, when I was on my writer’s retreat, we did an exercise about archetypes that guide us. One of the cards which I drew reminded me that challenging the status quo, and deeply-ingrained beliefs about same, is an inherent value I hold. Which is, of course, why I launched this blog.

But how to inspire with new thoughts for the new year? I recently stumbled upon a set of silver charms that list five simple rules for happiness. I attached them to my keys, as a daily reminder to incorporate the steps:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.

Just feeling their weight in my hand reminds me to take a breath and embrace these principles. They’re a lovely example of what I’ve long preached, getting the concepts we want to ingrain in our brains to actually register permanently in our thoughts. Much less messy than Post-it notes.*

Listening to NPR’s Tell Me More this morning on my drive to work, rule #1 jumped out. The shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and others in the Arizona crowd is a tragic example of the need for us all, as #1 says, to ‘free our hearts from hatred.’ The show host,  Michel Martin, and her guest, Representative Paul Grijalva (Democrat, Arizona), addressed the rampant toxic rhetoric in our nation. They called for personal responsibility in returning to true debate about issues, rather than ‘demonizing the other side.’ Rep. Grijalva quoted Rep. Gifford’s, the target victim, i.e. that “words have consequences . . . they have meaning.” You can listen or read the transcript here.

Rhetoric like this is fueled by hatred. Too often, as individuals, we doubt our ability to affect our society or our lawmakers on a wide scale. As I’ve written elsewhere, we suffer from the soft bigotry of low expectations. But I believe, as Michel Martin and Rep. Grijalva point out, that we all can affect issues like this by calling on lawmakers to have a sense of ethics and personal responsibility. We can also affect this, on a daily basis, beginning with our own hearts. Continuing with the hearts of our children. We can take a deep breath and free our own hearts from hatred. Don’t engage in or tolerate the spread of toxic talk in society. Speak up against it. Teach your children to do the same. Step away from our growing immunity to violence, fueled by video games, movies, and TV. Crosshair symbols on a political website may seem like humor, while feeding the toxicity in our culture.

As human beings, we are all connected. Change begins with a single word, a single choice, to step away from hatred and violence. If we each clear hate from our hearts, and speak up about this issue, even in individual conversations, perhaps our loving hearts can spark a healthier trend.

*If you want to get your own set of pocket charms, and live in Dallas, you can get your own set for only $10 at the Dallas Museum of Art gift shop. Or astute reader Karen of Grace in the Gray Areas (check it out) found them on Amazon.

It’s the thought that counts

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“It’s the thought that counts” is a popular phrase, used to extend the benefit of the doubt to others. Behavior CAN be less than stellar, but if intentions are good, we overlook minor transgressions. This is good. Relationships improve when we focus on the underlying well-meant effort, accepting that someone is simply human, busy, gave us an inappropriate gift, etc. Turn the phrase inward, however, and personal judgment rolls in. Women do this all the time, chastising themselves for perfectly normal, incredibly human thoughts. Thoughts like:

  • “I can’t stand this kid/partner/relative.” Guilt seems especially strong with thoughts about our children and mothers.
  • “I just want to run away.”
  • “I have everything I’ve ever wanted and my life still sucks.”
  • “I understand how parents throw a child against the wall.”
  • “I don’t care if I ever have sex again.”

Sometimes, it’s NOT the thought that counts. It’s the behavior. What counts is how we follow through, how we continue to love and care for others who frustrate us to the point of impersonating Edvard Munch’s “The Scream.” Go ahead–have a powerful internal scream. Embrace your truly human emotions. Cut yourself some slack about thoughts. Focus instead on actual behavior–big picture, over the long haul. You’ve thought of walking out of a store with your purchases rather than stand in a mile-long line, too. There’s nothing the matter with you, if you override thoughts and behave in the ways you aspire to, the majority of the time.

Wand Targets, #3

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“I’d never eat out alone.” Countless women–and men–have voiced this one, implying that if they had a magic wand they’d never have to shovel pasta alone again. Eating lunch with my daughter, we overheard the man at the next table lamenting, “It’s just awful. I can handle lunch alone, but dinner . . . ”

The underlying assumption is “I must be some poor, lonely loser if I can’t find someone with whom to have lunch/dinner.” Maybe you flash back to the lunch table, ousted by the mean girls. There was a time in our culture when single diners, especially women, were treated poorly by restaurant staff. Stereotypically shuttled to the worst table, where they would be banged in the head by the swinging kitchen door.

One of my greatest ways to refuel is to take my current book and eat on a patio in pleasant weather. I rather like my own company, people watching or enjoying a good story. Eating alone says nothing more about me than that I am eating alone. It’s all a state of mind. No need for self-talk that eating alone is pitiful; reframe it as the quiet time you desperately desire.

While we’re addressing expectations, you might want to add Eat Chocolate Naked Week to your list to celebrate. Are you sick of the conventional definition of beauty, and shamed into hiding because of some perceived lack in your appearance or size? This looks like a wonderful opportunity to redefine beauty in a way that works for you.

The passing of an icon

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Barbara Billingsley, age 94, died Saturday in Santa Monica, CA. The actress was best known for her portrayal of June Cleaver, the cookie-baking, pearls-while-vacuuming mom of Beaver and Wally Cleaver on the classic television show, Leave It To Beaver. Every Mother’s Day, June Cleaver is voted ‘best TV mom.’ The character set the bar impossibly high for moms everywhere, causing many anxious, perfectionistic women to feel like failures, falling short of June’s level of calm, organized, wise domesticity. And June inspired me to write Even June Cleaver Would Forget The Juice Box to give women a tool to battle unrealistic expectations.

But June was not perfect. She only had to parent 20 minutes a week–and had a script writer to back her up. We could all do as well! In an early episode, June mutters to Ward, as she makes sandwiches for the boys, “I don’t like that Eddie Haskell. He said mayonnaise upsets his stomach, so I’m putting some on his sandwich.” Aghast! June was imperfect–with normal human emotions. This aspect of the character seemed to disappear as the show progressed, sculpting her into the icon she became.

Unlike June, Barbara Billingsley was human. In an interview, she once commented on the pedestal she’d been placed by her role, when she was just another working mother, fighting for her own work life balance. Thanks, Barbara, for sharing your best comedic and human self with us all through the character of June. May you rest in peace.

When Life Sucks

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Life is tough. Death, illness, job loss or stress, relationship difficulties, the chaos of early parenting, the empty nest, financial trials: none of our lives are immune. In the midst of crisis, we sink into despair, depression, worry. It’s only human.

Then news of others’ tragedy and pain sneaks into awareness. Suddenly we gasp for breath, breaking the surface of grief or angst, and discount our own trials. “I’m being such a whiner. I’m so selfish. Others have it so much worse than me. I should count my blessings.” We feel guilty for letting our stresses bring us down. We expect that we should put aside our troubles and just buck up.

Who says that because others’ trials look more serious that you need to dismiss or discount your own? This is another way women are socialized to put the needs of others first, even if it means denying our own needs.

Just a teensy bit of black and white thinking here as well. As in “if I’m blessed, or lucky in comparison to someone else, then my life is not bad.” Truly, part of being human is embracing that huge dichotomies of feeling can, and do, exist. We can feel like crap and count our blessings. These states are compatible.

This week, I listened to On Point on NPR, an episode devoted to the bullying of gay youth and the subsequent tragic suicides. One guest shared his own experience, being bullied for being gay, growing up in the 50s. He related that his grandfather had survived the Holocaust, even though most of his family perished. The speaker didn’t discount his own pain, saying that his grandfather had suffered more and so being bullied didn’t matter. Instead, he became inspired by his grandfather’s trials and triumphs in facing his own ordeals.

Feelings just are. No need to judge another’s pain in comparison to our own. If we hurt, we hurt, and deserve to take care of ourselves to feel better. And if we can find inspiration and follow another’s lead of grace under pressure, that’s a bonus.

If only everyone could only act like me . . . Wand target #3

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Recently, listening to my community of women’s voices reveals the third target for the proverbial magic wand we all wish we had. It seems a universal wish: that others adhere to the same standards we hold in our own heads. The refrain echos all around me:

  • “I try to be cheery to everyone I see–why can’t my coworker do the same?”
  • “I try to affirm my mom as a mother–why does she feel threatened when I’m successful as a mom? Why can’t she be happy for me?”
  • “I love my sister unconditionally and don’t criticize her choices–why does she feel it’s okay to pick on me like that?”
  • “I work hard to fight fair–then my partner throws these vicious barbs at me!”
  • “I don’t gossip about those women–what have I done to them?”

Who says the internal rules of our cohorts must necessarily match our own? Of course we wish everyone followed the Golden Rule. Life would be so much smoother, if everyone held the same high ideals that we enforce for ourselves. It truly feels like one of life’s major injustices, to get bombarded by bad behavior from all sides. To receive treatment we work hard to avoid dishing out to those we encounter–how is this fair?

***SIGH**** It’s not.

Our old frenemy expectations weaves in and out of this issue. Disappointment is inevitable when we expect others to honor our code, our values. The hurt seems particularly intense because of it’s repetitive nature. Again and again, siblings, bosses, parents, partners fail to follow the fair, kind, loving path we try so hard to stay on. Often, the only solution is to remember that we really can only expect others to be themselves. To act out their issues, their moods, their unhappiness. They are only being their messy, limited, hurting human selves. “It’s just who she is.” Not very satisfying, for sure. But it definitely helps the next encounter if you can remember to rein in your expectations. In your own head, review that a) this disappointing behavior doesn’t have to do with you and b) it’s just Mr. or Ms. Crabby being their poor, miserable self.  Enter the situation from a point of compassion: it sucks to be them.

At the same time, pat yourself on the back. Kudos to you for keeping to your own high standards for yourself. You didn’t sink to that level! But if you do have a bad day and you snap into stinging rubber band mode, offer yourself some compassion–you are only human too. In the words of the Dalai Lama:

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.“

Perfect is a given–Perfectionism, part 2

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Perfectionism. The state of being perfect. In part one of this series on perfectionism, I referred to two definitions of perfectionism: 1) that perfection involves being disappointed in any aspect of our lives that is not exactly as we’d wish, vs. 2) a religious belief that moral or spiritual perfection exists within this human life. So which is it? Are we imperfect beings living imperfect lives, with the quest for perfection a crazy-making path? Or are we and our lives perfect already, just as we are? Makes my brain fuzzy, so I’m infusing a little philosophy into this blog today as I briefly explore the concepts underneath definition #2.

Not having much schooling in philosophy and/or Eastern religion, the idea that perfection already exists in the universe has been slow to dawn on me. Eons of writers, from Buddhists to Christians to atheist scientists, have expounded upon the idea that the universe represents perfection already, especially the perfection of nature. American author Alice Walker asserted “in nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.” Likewise, Walt Whitman exclaimed about the perfection of the universe, saying “All the things of the universe are perfect miracles, each as profound as any.” German mathemetician and philosopher Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz wrote that God (substitute higher power or source, if you wish) created the universe from infinite choices, saying “the actual world, as the result of all these claims, must be the most perfect possible.” Even fellow psychologist Wayne Dyer, Ph.D., much later to the table but inspired by the Tao Te Ching, writes “Everything is perfect in the universe – even your desire to improve it.”

Courtesy of Argonne National Laboratory on Flickr

These collective views suggest that the universe– and by definition, this includes it’s inhabitants and the progression of their lives– is already perfect. We can embrace this perfection, trusting that the overall plan of the universe is much bigger than our individual minds can comprehend. Who says our meager human brains have a handle on how things should be? In the words of Caroline Myss, “human logic is not divine logic.” At times, believing that “everything happens for a reason” and that all in our world is working out perfectly, the way it is meant to be, can open us up to feeling the boundless possibilities within ourselves. We are already perfect, even in human-scale imperfections.

Perhaps the distinction is big picture, world-view perfection, versus concrete Martha Stewartesque, perfectly-folded-napkins-on-the-exquisitely-dressed-holiday-table perfection. This philosophy says that we can take comfort and affirm our value in our implicit rightness of being and doing. The belief that, at any one moment, we are all doing the best that we can–flaws and all– has infused my entire practice of psychology. Even while it’s hard to apply sometimes in my own life. Remembering this in your daily life can be life-affirming: we’re all perfect, just as is.

Perfectionism is a bad thing? Fuzzy dichotomy #2

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Fuzzy or prickly?

Perfectionism. According to the Free Dictionary, perfectionism is 1) a propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards; and 2) a belief in certain religions that moral or spiritual perfection can be achieved before the soul has passed into the afterlife. So we want to be perfect, and can’t–or we already are? Sounds like a fuzzy dichotomy to me.

As a psychologist, I’ve tended to subscribe to the view that perfectionism is a) a bad thing, and b) unobtainable and unrealistic. With b) explaining a). In my book, Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box: Cut Yourself Some Slack (and Still Raise Great Kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting, I challenged moms to let go of that drive to be perfect parents producing perfect kids living perfect lives. “Perfectly good mothering” is the healthy alternative I propose in the book, i.e., defining the best mom you can be, given your personal mix of strengths and weaknesses.

Research has shown that there are, in fact, different types of perfectionism. Self-oriented perfectionists (SOPs) have strict standards for themselves and are keenly motivated to attain perfection and avoid failure. SOPs critically evaluate their successes and failures, not letting themselves off the hook. Other-oriented perfectionists (OOPs) set unrealistic standards for others (e.g., partners, children, co-workers), and are likely to stringently evaluate how others measure up against those standards. This pattern of expecting others to perform doesn’t make relationships with OOPs very easy, and so would be considered maladaptive. Socially-prescribed perfectionists (SPPs) think others expect unrealistic performance from them. Certain that they can’t live up to the high standards they believe others hold, i.e., what a friend of mine dubbed “the magazine life.” SPPs worry that others evaluate them critically.

Whether perfectionism is maladaptive or adaptive in our lives may come down to two broad research dimensions of perfectionism:: positive strivings and maladaptive evaluation concerns. SOPs may not worry about how they are evaluated, but instead focus on the positive striving angle. This, in turn, leads them to great achievements. That the demands of OOPs foster tension in relationships is self-evident, and could fill a whole post. SPPs are definitely driven by worries that they will be evaluated poorly, and likely miss positive feedback, feeling never good enough.

Research backs up the idea that the drive to perfectionism in our daily lives is counter to mental health. Recently, new moms most at risk of developing postpartum depression and anxiety were those who suffered from socially-prescribed perfectionism. In other words, these women believed others expected them to be perfect: house clean, children and selves well-groomed and well-dressed. Sucked up into showing this perfect image to the world, and certain that they would fail, these women exhausted themselves given the realities of life with an infant.

As for one aspect of this fuzzy dichotomy, perfectionism seems to be adaptive only when it leads us to strive in positive ways, so that we set achievable standards for ourselves. If others expect–or we think others expect–too much from us, disappointment, negative evaluation, and even depression and anxiety can result. In the next post, I’ll explore more about the fuzz implied by part 2 of the definition in the first paragraph. Maybe this whole discussion is moot, because we are–and everything about the world in which we live is-already perfect.