Category: Relationships

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.

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.“

Wand target, #2

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Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons by Snaily

Theoretically, summer is waning. But with record heat all over the world, the season seems intent on keeping it’s hot little mitts on us awhile longer. With the dog days, it seems that the volume on the lament “these kids are driving me crazy!” raises a notch or two. Working outside the home or in, moms feel guilty when thoughts like that percolate in their heads. “I hate that I don’t like my children.” “I hate that I don’t love every minute of time with my kids.” “It’s summer, we should be having fun–and I can’t wait for school to start.” “I can’t stand them climbing on me one more minute.” The elevated expectations of summer, to orchestrate more fun for our kids, make many women feel guilty against the reality of day in, day out summer.

Recognize the all-or-nothing thinking? When it comes to our loved ones, whether we’re parents or not, most women shy away from embracing the completely normal range of feelings that permeate relationships . Most of us feel badly unless feelings of love and good will materialize 110% of the time. We feel like bad moms, bad partners, or bad daughters or friends. We wish for that magic wand: POOF with fairy dust! We would never feel negative toward a loved one, child or adult, again.

Feelings of frustration with others in our lives are the badge of being human. Many women can accept such feelings aimed at the family of origin. As a small child in the grip of sibling rivalry, you accepted that you hated your sister. As a teen, it was status quo to hate your mom, and maybe your dad too. Underneath, you knew in your heart that you truly loved these family members. You just were momentarily (okay, maybe it was months that these feelings festered in your teenage heart) unhappy with the behavior, even though you still loved the person. Chances are, as an adult, you’ve come to terms with this reality with your significant other, as well. Backing off from black and white thinking, we can understand that this person-behavior distinction applies.

Nonstop sticky, sweaty, demanding kids clinging to your legs or lap ARE annoying, but embracing that reality doesn’t make you a bad mom. The mantra to memorize is “love the kids, hate the job.” Fleeting hate does not mean you are a witch. It means you are simply flesh and blood and emotion, rather than an autopilot Stepford creation. Negative emotions are a package deal with the joy. It’s all about the ratio. Tune into the fun, loving moments and you will see that the wand is not required.

If you need a few ideas to survive the end of the season, check out the August 3 podcast of The Sanity Hour. Perfectly good moms send those kids into the back yard to amuse themselves under the sprinkler while they sit in the shade with some deep breaths, a cool drink and a good book.

As requested: An Evie update

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A few of my devoted and valued readers have asked for an update on little Evie. I am glad to say that she is doing great! Initially she had four or five types of medicine daily, in multiple doses. Now she’s down to two anti-seizure meds, several times a day, which will be continued indefinitely. No more eating problems–she’s gaining like crazy and feels heftier than she ever has been. Good news for such a tiny cat who was diagnosed as ‘anorexic’ at the height of her illness. The surprising part is how loving and playful she has become, making me wonder if she had been feeling rotten for a long time without me realizing it. She’s chasing the other cats and playing with catnip mice, and is very chatty and affectionate.

Being a cat, of course, she hates the medicine that is delivered via syringe down her throat. I’ve learned how to swaddle a cat (akin to herding cats, I’m sure) with a beach towel, essential to this task. Afterwards, she immediately hides in this DSW shoes shopping bag, as if that will change what has just transpired.

The cover story of Time magazine this week explores the surprising intelligence of animals and the lessons we can learn from our furry companions. Years ago, bringing kitten Evie home helped me identify with the impact of difficult or fussy infant temperament on a new mother’s sense of competence. Evie refused to sit in my lap and let me pet her, unlike all the other cats I’d owned (she is my ninth Siamese.) She would only tolerate being draped backwards over my shoulder while I paced and scratched her spine. I suddenly understood how hard it is for new moms with similar babies, who arch and pull away rather than cuddling easily into mom’s arms. Research has shown that temperament like this is likely hard-wired, for delivery room nurses can spot these sensitive, fussy babies within the first ten minutes of life and accurately predict which children show this predisposition when they are in kindergarten.

Even though I’m well aware of this fact, having Evie “reject” me in this manner was disappointing, to say the least. So her more loving kitty self is now a double joy, given that we almost lost her. And thank you all for sending your good wishes in our direction!

Wand targets, #1

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In an effort to organize this blog, I’m launching some new categories. Admittedly, who really knows why I have a sudden need to provide order, after a half year of randomness? The need to organize usually arises out of feeling out of control, like when the house is such a mess that you suddenly just have to tear into (and straighten) the junk drawer. With the tidy drawer in front of you, you breathe a sigh of relief and accomplishment, feeling like you’ve grabbed the reins on your runaway life. I’m in the process of developing new writing projects in other venues, so the “to do” list is expanding, like one of those toys that magically “grow” into a slimy, disgusting object that you can’t wait to pitch into the trash once the children aren’t looking. Grow a dinosaur, grow a boyfriend, grow a cowboy–whatever your heart’s desire. But I digress. . .

New category number one is “wand targets.” If you could wave your trusty magic wand, and forever banish hated experiences and minor aggravations, what would be the target? What would vanish from your life? Tops on the list for most fallible human beings is the experience of being wrong. It’s a fairly universal state that we unanimously hate. Jokes in sitcoms and comedy routines abound (okay, often about men in particular) aimed at our discomfort uttering the phrases: “I was wrong” or “I made a mistake.” I continually tell myself, and clients, that making mistakes is NO BIG DEAL. To err is human, after all. I recommend repetition of the mantra “I’m only human. People make mistakes” as a way to stop the judgment, substituting a verbal pat on the back instead. You’re doing the best you can do. You can’t expect to be right 110% of the time.

Journalist Kathyrn Schulz has written Being Wrong: Adventures in the Margin of Error. which offers an in-depth, and surprising, look at this issue. Schulz explains that we detest being wrong because of over-generalization and absolute, all or nothing reasoning. Just the sort of meme–thinking traps–that I like to ferret out and expose. Most of us react negatively because being wrong seems to confirm our inherent flawed nature. When we make a mistake, we feel stupid, useless, incompetent. We zero in on the error, convinced it represents the total package of who we are, rather than one slip. Underlying the shame and disappointment are thoughts such as “what an idiot I was.” Even deeper underneath that brain chatter is the belief that “I must be perfectly correct and successful at all times, or I’m a loser.” Being wrong equals failure, in our minds.

Schulz offers an affirming counter view: that error is the fundamental human condition and should be celebrated. Drawing on cognitive science, Schulz says that mistakes in judgment and actions and the ability to make correct inferences are a result of the same process. We can’t be right without sometimes being wrong–because the underlying mechanism is the same. Inductive reasoning is the path to most decisions. We collect facts, fit them together, and draw a conclusion, assuming that it’s right. In terms of probability, most of the time it is. But sometimes, the facts don’t fit together in the anticipated way, and we’re surprised–and often offended that our process failed us. Schulz suggests acceptance of the fact that inductive reasoning itself is fundamentally, unavoidably fallible. But fallible does not mean useless.

The process of language learning is an example, says Schulz. Tiny kids learn to add the suffix ‘-ed’ to words to create the past tense, through inductive reasoning when listening to adults. Most of the time, this rule is successful: “walked” or “played.” But it’s not universal, as we see when children relate how they “sleeped ” or “eated.” Inductive reasoning has a high hit rate–with a healthy dose of misses.

It’s still the best our brains have–with a proviso, says Schulz, that she calls the paradox of error. To prevent error, we have to embrace the possibility that mistakes are inevitable because of how our brains work. Mistakes are an intrinsic part of a fundamentally sound system–not a reason to chastise yourself or others. Brings us back to the mantra, true all along. Everyone does make mistakes. This reassurance is not based simply in a generic, feel-good, esteem enhancing philosophy. It’s a scientific fact about human physiology. Update the mantra: “I’m only human–that’s how brains work.” It’s not just talk of empty reassurance; it really is the best we can do.

A daily injection of levity

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I’ve been driving around town with the biggest smile on my face, often laughing out loud. Given recent and ongoing stresses (in spite of my training, I’m not immune), it suddenly dawned on me how funny–and surprising–this was. The secret? I have a new car, a pleasant boost in itself. But the icing on the VW cake is satellite radio–and I’ve just discovered the comedy channels. Truly fun and funny stuff, easing the cruising (or inching) through traffic. My passenger and I were both doubled over the other day, tears streaming down our faces.

Most of us know that laughter does indeed make us feel better. Laughing may help the pituitary gland release its version of endorphins, much like a runner’s high. For all the multi-taskers reading this, however, here’s another fact to motivate you. Recent research by Lee Berk and colleagues showed that laughing affected hormones which regulate appetite. Study participants who watched a serious film clip had no change in these hormones, while those who watched a funny film clip had an increase in leptin, the hormone that signals the body that hunger is satisfied. The researchers concluded that laughter may regulate hunger as well as exercise.

So laughing is good for us–and sharing it with others is even better, allowing us to connect emotionally. No need to go buy yourself a new car, or even purchase/subscribe to satellite radio. Comedy routines can be downloaded from iTunes and/or listened to on CD. Libraries have comedy CDs for check-out, so toss a few into the pile of books next time you’re at story hour. No need to worry about the language with the little ones in the car, either–plenty of G-rated offerings, including “Laugh USA” if you do have satellite radio.

Have favorite jokes or websites, comedy routines or films you want to share? My favorite online sites are the LOLcats and SomeEcards–especially the parenting category. I’d love to have you share yoursere!

The view from upside down

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I spend five hours in yoga class each week, given the luxury of an empty nest. It’s invaluable to my balance, that tenuous concept for all women–emotionally as well as the physical challenge. (I keep saying I’m going to find another way to talk about balance–we need a different term. It’s not an active enough word for the incredibly dynamic process of achieving well-being in our lives. Suggestions?)

The exercise room at my fitness center has floor to ceiling glass walls at the back. I habitually park myself near this wall, by the floor to ceiling mirrors, working to perfect my poses by glances in the mirror. Throughout the class, I’m upside down dozens of times, in standing forward fold or down dog. I’ve not quite figured out whether it’s the tempered glass of this back wall or the upside down position, but there’s a fun house mirror effect as I watch the latecomers hurry toward the room. Their legs look rubbery, feet appearing to roll along, all in slow motion. Remember Pokey and Gumby, rubber stop-motion characters from an old kid’s TV show? One of my sisters had the toy characters. They felt like those big pink block erasers, thick wires inside spongy legs. When we play-walked them along, the legs would buckle, almost bounce. This is how the people outside the exercise room appear–like elastic, stretching out slowly and snapping them backward, even as they hurry to class.

A friend found a little lizard in her bed. She picked it up to take it out of the house, and half of the tail pulled off in her hand. That creature had a choice of being caught–certain doom to it’s small brain–or being thrown off balance for awhile as it’s tail regenerated. In it’s innate lizard wisdom, the little guy is programmed to know it’s better to be imbalanced and know you’ll recover than trapped. What a shift of point of view.

Shift of perspective is a powerful tool. This week, I had two new clients come in, second time for each. At the first session, our discussions had provided such an incredible shift in the view each had of her situation. By the second week. each client felt completely past the problem. Jobs hadn’t changed, spouses hadn’t changed, family members hadn’t changed. All that had altered to solve the problem was the lens through which the problem was viewed.

Daily practice to change your point of view is a good exercise, stuck or not. Hang upside down. Try on a different pair of glasses, rose-colored or gray. Relabel loss as triumph, danger as healthy challenge, wisdom where nothing made sense. One of my favorite quotes from Caroline Myss is that ‘divine logic is not human logic.’ Perspective is often all we have control over–so control what you can, and let go of the rest.

A perfect Mother’s Day–blah, meow, woof.

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Unless you’ve been orbiting in the space shuttle or hiding in an Afghan cave this week, you’re aware that it’s a big week for moms. Media hype and advertising = skyrocketing expectations about the perfect way to honor mom this Mother’s Day. Blah, blah, blah. Just as with any holiday–or for that matter, any regular old run of the mill day–unrealistic expectations are the most powerful, direct route to disappointment. The more we expect, the more hopes can be dashed.

I remember the painful first year that I didn’t have a daughter at home on Mother’s Day. My husband tuned in to my angst and made plans (earning many husband points!) I’d always loved the fancy hotel Mother’s Day brunches, and he surprised me with brunch reservations. Given the holiday crowd, the hotel moved the event to the massive, dim, chandeliered ball room, away from the usual intimate, sunny garden cafe setting. There we sat at a tiny “two top” in the midst of lively parties of dozens of family members, from great grandmothers to infants– most clad in gay spring hats! Just our little 2 person table, awkwardly adrift in this sea of flowering families. Given my expectations for a great time, I was surprised at how bereft I felt.

What’s a mother to do?

1. Ask for what you want. We’d like to think that on this day, out of the whole year, our loved ones will just know what we want. But family members are simply human, and likely not psychic. And don’t be afraid to ask for them all to disappear for the day, if time alone is what you truly crave. Or here’s a fun list of truly invaluable gifts.

2. Stay in the moment, and recognize the love in the intent. Embrace whatever is offered in celebration.

Too often we’re like cats in our expectations: we demand it all. At least silently, in the solitude of our minds, we expect to be pampered, stroked, fed all earthly delights between lengthy, luxurious naps, as the world revolves around us. At least for one measly day a year.

Not that mothers don’t deserve it. Parenting is the hardest job we’ll ever do, and a cat’s life is what moms deserve. However, “deserve” and executed reality don’t always align, and then disappointment can rush in. Unless we meow, or maybe howl, really loudly, for what we want. Refer to #1 above!

However, a better way might be to live in the moment like dogs. To dogs, every day is the best day ever: “I chased a squirrel!!!!” “I smelled a rotten smell!!!!” “I got scratched behind the ears!!!” “I got to go for a walk!!” Most wondrous day ever!!! In the current issue, Psychology Today explains that those who are happier, and luckier, definitely adopt this canine attitude, embracing wonder in every twist and turn of life. Woof, woof!!

On <em>The Sanity Hour this week, guest Cheri Ruskus shared this poem written by her mother Jeannine Landreau. Cheri discovered the poem after her mother’s death last year.

Do not take this moment lightly for it is the most important moment of your life
It is all there is of the present. Live it to the fullest for it will never come again.
All that has gone before it is a memory and all that will come after it is only a hope or dream of future things.
It is more than the beginning of tomorrow and the end of yesterday.
Make it a great moment, it is your life right now and you will never live it again!

Rein in your expectations this Mother’s Day, ask for what you want, and hope for perfect moments, not a 110% perfect day. With canine expectations for every moment, every day, the joy of Mother’s Day might extend throughout the year.

Happy Mother’s Day.

The value of friends, part 2

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You’ve heard me write–and rant (The Sanity Hour, 3/30/10)–about the importance of honest connection with friends for our happiness. Turns out that emotional well-being is not the only benefit.

Serendipitously, I discovered this relatively new blog, MWFseekingBFF, about the process of making female friends in a new city by Rachel Bertsche, an Oprah web producer in Chicago. I won’t repeat her post on the value of friendship for health–you can check it out here. My conviction to invest time in–and honestly connect with–my BFFs is strengthened once again, if doing so not only makes me happier but will extend my life while protecting me against dementia, colds, and insomnia. Rachel calls friendship “the miracle drug.” I declare that champagne and deep conversation with my girlfriends is way more fun than fish oil, curcumin, and broccoli! Bring on the book groups!

The Pearl Illusion

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Time to tear off those pesky June Cleaver masks. Women work day in and day out to put up a good front. Not only is it exhausting to appear decked out in our pearls as we vacuum, but a new study shows that we’ll be happier through honest connection, engaging in depth with others, than when we chatter on at only surface level.

In research at the University of Arizona, the happiest people engaged in only one-third as much small talk as the unhappiest participants. Happy people engaged in twice as many substantive conversations, and spent 25 percent less time alone, than unhappy people. The link is well-documented between loneliness and depression. Even when I was in grad school thirty years ago, research was clear that feeling connected to others was a key factor for happiness and for health.

Women often battle the urge to conceal their troubles, rather than speak honestly about the challenging, tedious parts of their lives. Why invest so much energy in projecting the image that we’ve “got it all together?”

1) We secretly suspect that we’re the only one for whom it’s hard. Everyone else has twenty balls in the air and a smile on her face. We think “there must be something the matter with me,” as another ball goes careening out of reach. “If I were only stronger, smarter, more organized, a better multitasker. If everyone else’s life is smooth, it must be me who is defective, weak, or less than.”
2) We are certain others don’t want to hear us kvetch. Complaining is not attractive. People will tire of it, shy away, judge, or label the complainer as a downer or even a bitch.

Straight thinking is helpful. Is everyone else truly surfing breezily through the stresses in their lives? Are you the only woman out of 82.8 million who forgot her pearls today? Really? Are you accurately judging the ratio of calm versus chaos that you are expressing? Is 100% of your conversation constantly stewed in negativity?

Aim for moderation and middle ground. Yes, perhaps, if all you ever do is bitch, others might tune you out. I believe most women err on the side of minimizing life’s thorns, blocking honest communication and connection, than on spewing complaints 168 hours a week. Besides, it’s not the complaining that drives others away. Listeners shy away if they feel uncomfortable with the topic, or when the complainer doesn’t listen to suggestions, can’t be consoled, or goes on like a CD on repeat, ignoring possible remedies. If a friend is interested and listens, we need to honor her efforts with action on our problems.

I find that a simple expression of “poor baby” is incredibly helpful. When we kvetch, we validate each other. We empower our friends by saying “I get it, I know where you’re coming from.” We feel less alone and less defective.

Remember, June Cleaver only had to parent 20 minutes per week. She had no carpools to drive and no boss-imposed deadlines for her pies or her dusting. We feel better when we acknowledge that life is hard for women in this century–maybe the challenges are different than in previous generations, but hard nevertheless. None of us is perfect. All of us have trials. There’s nothing the matter with me–I’m just part of the whole race of women, tromping through the overkill of daily demands. When we connect through honesty, we feel happier, less alone, and healthier, too.