Category: Stress management

Naked in the woods

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I’ve just had the delight of Mother’s Day weekend with my two grown daughters at Gray Bear Lodge in the hills of Tennessee. The event was a Red Tent retreat, named after the ancient tradition of women separating themselves from the rest of the tribe during menstruation, resting, recuperating, and nurturing each other in a separate tent. If you’ve not read Anita Diamant’s great book by the same name, check it out. Who says this is an out-dated tradition? Imagine the reduction in stress levels if once a month we retreated from the world to spend time in connection, sharing stories, laughter, and pampering, with our sisters, mothers, and daughters. Let alone in a setting like this.

Healing abounded in the woods: scenic beauty, sauna followed by cold plunge in spring-fed creek, sand shower, rock pool and hot tub, natural facials–all anticipated and welcome experiences. Unexpected aspects of the weekend abounded–like group drumming. My less than musical self could keep time slowly, and even enjoyed it once I got out of my rational head.

Most wonderful– and most surprising of all– was the afternoon spent by this pristine waterfall, sunbathing in the buff. Two dozen women, all ages and shapes, easily shed clothing and communed comfortably together. No judgment in the air, either woman to woman or in any woman’s head. No air-brushed models here. With a few young exceptions, these were Rubenesque bodies that had birthed and breastfed babies, weathered life, cradled dying spouses. Cellulite be damned, we all reveled in soaking up the warmth radiating from sunshine on the table-size rocks. We waded into the freezing water, stumbled across the stones, and rubbed green-tinged mud all over. After the mud dried, we scrubbed it off until our skin glowed pink and alive.

The lack of self-consciousness and total acceptance flowed as freely as the cadence of our leader’s drum on the hike to the waterfall. And caused me to reflect on how rare–and powerful– it is, to free ourselves from our body image obsession (does this look good on me? is my butt too big?) and immerse ourselves in complete acceptance. Who says we can only feel beautiful if our bodies fit some arbitrary, waifish standard?

The phrase repeated throughout the weekend about our generous bodies was “goddess flesh.” As in (as we sank cross-legged onto the floor for meditation) “reach under your buttocks, adjust your goddess flesh so you can sink in and get comfortable.” This is a phrase we all can adopt each time those self-critical, culture-driven appearance obsessions pop into our heads. We’re all goddesses–embrace this body that works for you, which is all it needs to do.

And if you want to protect this lovely spot, check out the Gray Bear Land Trust.

What works?

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I know everyone is busy–but can I tell you about my week? Two evening events, the arrival of the corrected book proof and the flurry of first bulk orders, and a day held hostage to the carpet installers (you know, when you must stay home all day because workers are in your home). I could have written a blog entry–or at least a “sh*tty first draft– as in Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
author Anne Lamott says, on that day. Then, during one evening event, my house of course, the cat with interstitial cystitis decided she’d join ranks with the Tea Party activists in the nation’s capital by placing dime-size circles of urine on every other tax document the tax preparer (i.e., my husband) had spread out on the bed. Interstitial cystitis, chronic inflammation of the urinary tract, flares up under stress. Stress, to a cat, you ask? Stress to this cat (and her sister/litter mate, who in true sibling copy cat fashion also has developed interstitial cystitis) is any change to her environment that prevents her from sleeping 22 hours a day. Like carpet installers who bang on floors, drag carpet around, and prop the door open so scary neighborhood cat smells can waft into her territory. Phew. All of this is to say forgive me for the lack of lengthy, meaningful post this week. Simply don’t know where the time went. Now you know you’re not alone–and this is a week when I need to honor my own advice and write a “Did Do” list. However, this does not mean that I haven’t been thinking about my devoted readers. I’ve collected a short list of events that triggered “who says?” in my head this week, bringing to mind two of the thinking traps from Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box: Cut Yourself Some Slack (and Still Raise Great Kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting. (Thinking traps are the culturally-ingrained myths about expectations of women and/or mothers that we keep in our heads.)

More, better, all is essential for success Always striving for the newest, fastest, latest improvement in anything and everything? A friend related how she and her husband just had to have a king-size bed. That was the pinnacle of “we’ve made it” adult success. And now they need not touch, ever, in bed. With plenty of room for avoidance, could the allure of king size mattresses be a factor in the epidemic of sexless marriages? A revved up, satisfying sex life is not easy if you never touch your bed buddy.

My grandmother shared another version of this same cultural drive to junk the old for the new. In the 70s, brass beds were all the rage. I was wishing aloud, hinting that one might lurk in the dusty, dim corners of her wondrous attic. She told how they had put the old solid brass bed frames out for the junk man, in favor of spanking new wood bedroom suites of furniture. The Pottery Barn catalogue look was not the sign of success in the 1930s and 1940s.

Moms have to protect their children from everything. One mom was lamenting that her children eat many French fries each week. Her preschooler was stuck on fries, eating only fries, as that age often fixates. Some say (my mother, a nutritionist by training) French fries are saving this country from scurvy because potatoes are rich in Vitamin C–and the only source of vitamin C for many. Another mom confessed guilt as all the other moms at the park slathered their kids with sunscreen. She chose not to do battle with her toddler over the process. Ah well, sunshine is our major source of Vitamin D. By slacking off on the sunscreen for that one hour, she decided she’d saved her kids from rickets.

Challenge the thinking traps, buck unrealistic expectations, and keep perspective. Does a king-size bed really define us? Is it really devastating to let your child eat French fries four days a week for three months, to make sure something passes her lips, if she eats healthy food before and after the terrible twos? Does one sunscreen free hour–or even several a season– over the course of your child’s life equal a certain health risk, if overall he is protected from serious sunburn? What works is what matters–not some arbitrary ideals about timetables we should keep or standards we should enforce or achieve. Embrace what works for you: a smaller bed, more fries, an hour of play sans sunscreen. And I’ll keep my own brain chatter going about the fact that this week, this late entry is what worked for me.

Inspiration to action

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The value of creativity keeps invading my conversations. In-depth talks with my inspiring sister, Jane Dunnewold, an artist, teacher, and creativity coach-in-training, are leading us both into further exploration about women, creativity, and wellness.

Creating is a missing piece in our service-centric culture, which I addressed briefly here. Certainly carving out regular times to engage in activities that feed our souls, such as artistic expression and writing, fosters well-being. To a one, the moms that I’ve interviewed for The Sanity Hour point to the value of writing as a stabilizing, enriching force in their lives as mothers. I’ve watched as another friend has taken up quilting to fill the empty nest left when the youngest of her rambunctious boys went to college, interrupting the ever-present thunder of teen boys and dogs in her life. She has lit up as she’s invested herself in quilting, the glow on her face matching the lively and stunning designs she is producing. And today, I finally hold a proof copy in my hand of the long-awaited revision of Postpartum Survival Guide, coauthored with Diane Sanford, PhD. This is a labor akin to producing a child, though we’ve joked that the gestation period for this book is more like that of an elephant: 760 days. Truthfully, this book has been in the works for the gestation period of one elephant and one killer whale (517 days). Today, there’s a baby elephant in my life–and reward for years of work. Links will follow when the book, Life Will Never Be The Same hits the virtual shelves in the next few weeks.

Inspiration is everywhere–we need only open our minds and look around. A fabulous opportunity is coming this Sunday, April 11, 2010. The Dutch Art Gallery in Dallas will be showing the powerful film Who Does She Think She Is? which examines the challenges of mothering while creating art. This is in conjunction with an exhibit by women, Finding Her Voice: Women in Art. A reception for the artists begins at 1 p.m., followed by a showing of the film at 2 p.m. Come and join this fabulous, talented group of women in a celebration of creativity in our lives. Hope to see you there. If you cannot join in on Sunday, the exhibit continues through May 15.

The Dutch Art Gallery
10233 E NW Hwy #420, at Ferndale
Dallas, TX 75238
214-348-7350

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.

National Moms’ Night Out

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If you’re a mom, here’s an excellent excuse–or impetus–to take the night off: tonight is the 4th annual Moms’ Night Out. Grab some girlfriends and leave the demands behind. Head out to do anything that nurtures the non-mom parts of yourself. You deserve it–way more often than once a year! At least tonight’s a start. Remember, no one will make time for you but you. And what a great investment in making you a happier mom!

And if you’re so inclined, you can go to Facebook and add photos of you and your friends celebrating the occasion. Have fun!

Life’s Prizes

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It seems to be the season for life’s big prizes, from the Winter Olympics to the Oscars. Tonight on The Sanity Hour I will talk to moms of aspiring kids. We’ll look at how moms support their children in pursuit of big dreams, and what it takes to balance their own and their children’s lives. On the line-up are moms of aspiring/accomplished actors, athletes, singers, and authors.

One of my favorite topics, perspective, is sure to come up as key in keeping our lives sane and balanced. Too often, parents get stressed when they lose track of long-term goals versus the quality of daily life. As parents, we need to remember that parenting is not a competition, and our success as parents does not hinge on external rewards for our kids, even when those prizes are mind-boggling.

That’s why I love this United Technologies Corporation ad from years ago, and try to count these kinds of successes in my own life.

Most of us miss out on life’s big prizes.
The Pulitzer.
The Nobel.
Oscars.
Tonys.
Emmys.
But we’re all eligible for life’s small pleasures.
A pat on the back.
A kiss behind the ear.
A four-pound bass.
A full moon.
An empty parking space.
A crackling fire.
A great meal.
A glorious sunset.
Hot soup.
Cold beer.
Don’t fret about copping life’s grand awards. Enjoy it’s tiny delights.
There are plenty for all of us.

If you want to hear this group of dynamite women between 7-8 pm CDT on Monday March 15, 2010, just click on my link under RESOURCES in the right-hand column of this page. Then click on the box on the top right hand of the page that has blue lettering and says Toginet Radio Live. If you miss it live, you can still listen to the podcast by following this link.

What did I do all day?

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If you are like most women– including me–you collapse into bed at the end of each hectic, exhausting day lamenting all the items left on your “to do” list. You toss and turn awhile, jockeying around in your mind how to get it ALL done tomorrow. Doesn’t matter what “all” entails–housework, childcare duties, work assignments–we all have an endless list. And it keeps us up, unlike the ever-quotable Scarlett O’Hara: “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” Our brains seem to be hard-wired to focus on the negative, rather than the positive. I console myself with the thought that this was a survival tactic for our ancestors. If you failed to tune into danger (i.e., the negative), you would have been waltzing gaily through the meadow picking wildflowers when a sabre-toothed tiger snatched your baby. No wonder it’s so hard to beat.

Consider, too, the nature of modern work. As we’ve shifted to a service economy, much paid work has no visible “finished product” in which to take pride. There’s no evidence of work completed, compared to harvesting crops, weaving cloth, or building tables. Or maybe “finished” is short-lived, much like housework. You fold the last clean sock, take off the day’s clothing, and the next load is already creeping up on you. Even pet care: you screen the litter box and the cat sidles in to mark her territory again. If childcare is your primary profession, it’s a quarter century before you can even tally results.

Because of these issues, frustration is inherent in our work lives. Here are my favorite remedies for the perennial question “what did I do today?” when the automatic answer in your head feels like “nothing.”

Develop an avocational interest that creates a product. I believe this is the thrill behind scrap-booking (in addition to the quilting-bee style social get-togethers known as “crops.”) You SEE tangible, permanent results– unlike the rest of your day. This is why I love to paint a wall, sew a cushion or window treatment, or crochet a doily (yes, I’m a real throwback to Grandma’s day.)

Keep a “Did Do” list. At the end of the day, rather than allowing yourself to tally what is left undone, shift your attention to what you DID accomplish. Write it down, for the written word adds proof. This quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow suggests this isn’t just simply a 21st century problem: “Each morning sees some task begun, each evening sees it close; something attempted, something done, has earned a night’s repose.”

As a postscript to Monday’s post about improving women’s lives to honor International Women’s Day, here’s a quick and easy task. Click on this link and the pink “CLICK to GIVE” box on the site. Money will be donated to fund mammograms for women in need, for every click. Thanks.

The broken libido link

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So which would you rather live without? Cake or sex?

A friend sent me this Hallmark ShoeBoxcard. (Visit a Hallmark store today.)

Women’s missing libido is legendary. Consider the accepted “fact:: men think about sex every seven seconds; women think about sex seven times a year. There’s the classic bit from Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. Annie and Woody’s character, Alvy, each tell the therapist that they have sex 2-3 times per week. Alvy labels this “hardly ever, never.” Annie says that it’s “all the time.” Books lament today’s sexless marriages.

The problem lies in expectations –and unquestioning acceptance– that a woman’s libido goes missing in action for years. Sex drive drops as work demands pile up. Children come along, constantly tugging, clinging, and creating mommy “touch fatigue.” Sometimes, women believe “mothers don’t do those things.” Fluctuating hormones take a toll, with breastfeeding, perimenopause, and menopause. Not to mention when women are constantly running on empty and even simple self-renewal like sleep, exercise, or fun stays on the bottom of the list for weeks on end.

Women can reclaim this most basic need by tuning into the benefits. Feelings of closeness to your partner rise with levels of the hormone oxytocin, which jumps to five times normal levels. Oxytocin increases drowsiness, easing sleep. Research has shown that orgasm releases endorphins, like a runner’s high, relieving pain of cramps and headaches. Endorphins boost mood and ease PMS irritability, too. Finally, the neurotransmitter dopamine rises, enhancing lust and the relaxation response. This explains why libido is enhanced by an active sex life. “Use it or lose it” is not a myth.

Acknowledging the benefits encourages us to put satisfying sex back on the list ,for ourselves, not just to assuage our fears of a wandering partner. But how to rebuild the missing link?

Cynthia Kling in A Bitch in the House nails it: “eventually the pure animal rutting feeling stops rising out of your depths, and that’s when you need … your brain to take over and bring it back.” Plan to ignite that sleepy part of your brain by simply allowing yourself to think about sex.

Read a sexy novel. Watch artfully crafted sex scenes in a movie –no porn required. Sex scenes are often labeled “gratuitous sex,” designed to lure young movie-goers. Who says we can’t enjoy them –if we allow ourselves to embrace this basic human response.

Then make time for sex, by handing over household/childcare chores, a carrot on a stick, to that hopefully willing partner. Young moms, in particular, can delegate bedtime rituals to dad for at least one night. Take the free time to relax in the tub, daydream, delve into erotica. Brent Bost, MD, author of The Hurried Woman, affirms it: the best aphrodisiac in the world is a man with a vacuum cleaner.

I don’t want to brag, but . . .

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“I shouldn’t brag, but . . .” Fill in the blank: “I just paid off my car/student loan/house.” Or maybe “My child made it into the gifted program/the select soccer team/Harvard.” Hardly a day goes by without this example of how women are conditioned to minimize their successes, to hide their skills, to quash their good news. This is so deeply ingrained in us. Who says? Why shouldn’t we take pride in our accomplishments?

Examination of this question is personal of late, as I think about the need to announce blog launched, books published, radio show to debut — at least if I want followers. Humility was drummed into me at an early age, growing up as a preacher’s kid. Even as I sit in solid mid-life (if you’re counting years, nearly two thirds into my life, statistically) it is hard for me, as for the women I listen to throughout my life, to even announce my achievements, let alone with pride. Women I know have written admirable books, started social movements, reigned as national experts in their fields, created art that inspires, raised remarkable young adults. And the norm is to hem and haw and softly mutter about what we’ve done, lacing the speech with apologies and detractions. The equivalent of “oh, this old thing?” when someone compliments your brand-new dress. Those admonishments in our heads to be nice and not brag never seem to quiet entirely.

And why is this? We want to be nice girls. Nice girls don’t brag. Good girls don’t toot their own horns. This modesty is not for modesty’s sake, however. Nice girls are programmed to be cautious and concerned about the feelings of others. Isn’t that what it’s about? We don’t brag (or even proclaim deserved pride) in our accomplishments because we don’t want others to feel badly. We don’t want others to feel that they come up short. So we downplay our triumphs and miss an opportunity to boost ourselves up.

I’m not saying we should model ourselves after those who constantly broadcast their own victories, however shallow or magnificent, and are seemingly incapable of any topic beyond their own gold stars. As I often remind clients when talking about this life-changing switch to self-affirmation, I’m not that powerful a therapist that I can turn a self-effacing person into a narcissist. Nor is that the goal. Just calling for a little balance, swing the pendulum ever so slightly towards positive feelings about self and away from minimization of life’s prizes. Good friends and loving families want to celebrate with us. They realize that we’re not proclaiming ourselves “better than.” We’re trying on some well-earned self-praise and want to share the joy, not shouting nyah, nyah.

Let’s trust that others will share our pride. Let’s affirm that we deserve to feel good about our hard work. Let’s remember that there’s plenty of happiness to go around and our wins don’t jinx our sister’s chances. Let’s inspire with our strengths, moving other women toward their own dreams, rather than viewing life as a competition. Let’s embrace each other’s bragging, rejoicing not just in the lauded event but in the boost to esteem that healthy bragging brings.

Oh, and by the way, please spread the word about my blog. If you like my message, pass it on to your friends. And look forward with me to the launch of my radio show, “The Sanity Hour,” beginning February 22 at 7 p.m. CT on HerInsight radio network. I’ll need guests, if you want to share my fifteen minutes of fame. Link coming soon!