Regroup on life’s winding path

There’s an old story about the young bride and the ham. Cooking a ham for the first time, she lopped off both ends of the ham, threw them away, and put the ham in the pan to bake. Her husband questioned her–what was wrong with those pieces? They looked perfectly fine to him. The young woman answered “my mother always did it that way.” Humoring her husband, she called up her mom to ask the reason. Dear old mom gave the same reply–her mom had always cut and tossed the ends as well. Working up the chain of grandmothers in pursuit of the origin of this supposed necessary step in ham preparation, great-grandmother finally had the answer: to make the ham fit in her pan.

Even if you’ve never baked a ham, you may be a locked-in creature of habit. Two examples have jumped out lately. In infancy, parents strive to meet the baby’s needs ASAP, jumping at the least cry or whimper. It’s true that babies who are fed on demand and picked up promptly when they cry become securely attached to their caregivers and even cry less. And of course we don’t want our children to be unhappy–ever. As kids grow, however, this strategy needs to evolve. If parents don’t teach children that a) others have needs too and b) waiting is sometimes necessary, we risk raising self-centered brats with no capacity to soothe themselves or delay gratification.

An achievement-oriented, perfectionistic drive toward life is another strategy to revise over time. Working toward 120% throughout school, even into graduate/professional training and establishment of a career, is rewarded because it leads to accomplishments. At some point, however, the value of this over-the-top drive reaches the tipping point. Continually working for 120%–or even 100%—is exhausting. We feel never good enough; we’ve never “arrived.” We don’t allow ourselves to savor accomplishments, in favor of life balance. And when we try to back off, because of the human tendency toward all or nothing thinking, we feel like failures. Either it’s 120%, or nada. We don’t know how to find that middle ground of perfectly good–or even excellent–versus perfection.

When we forget to question the path, the tradition, the long-held strategy, misery and frustration can result. Needs and goals change; steps to achieve those shift. Who says the old way is still the best way? More of the same is counterproductive.

When feeling stressed or stuck, challenge your strategy. Do something different for a change. At the Chopra retreat that I attended recently, leader Davidji, challenged us to write down an expectation we had for the outcome to a usual interpersonal encounter. We then flipped the paper over and had to write five other possible scenarios–mind-bending, in a challenging and good way. The next time your strategic habit is not working, push yourself to generate five new alternatives. And then apply a new solution, for a possibly pleasant surprise–relief!

Upon being a good citizen

The big fat “should” parading through my office and my life lately is that “I should be an informed citizen”–and that implies keeping up on the latest world/national events as a key component of good citizenship.

Who says?

Now, caveat emptor, what I’m about to write might sound like one big rationalization coming from me. Oh well. I’m the one that burst out laughing years ago when my spouse was talking about a coworker being shipped off to Kazakhstan on business. My husband is a teasing sort, enjoys making up new words, and I was certain this was a country in that vein. Kazakhstan? Really? I swore he was making it up; he swore it was a real place. I’m also the one that found out about Bin Laden’s capture/death from the tile guy, the next morning. I’m clearly not Ms. Carrie Current Events. Guilty as charged.

But I’m also a fairly sensitive person. Pain imbues much of life sitting in my office each day. I began my career working with emotionally, physically, and sexually-abused children. And I had to make a conscious decision, again years ago, that the news–especially with video involved–was too much on top of all that my work required me to encounter. Ditto for television shows, films, and books that are packed with harm and pain. NOT entertainment, and too much a toll on my emotional equilibrium.

Therefore, I avoid most of the news. I educate myself about issues that I can affect, by voting or writing letters, following through to control what I can within the political process. But aside from practicing loving-kindness meditation for the world’s people and donating to charities which support my philosophy as they do good in the world, what influence do I have? I really don’t think reminding myself about terrorism or natural disasters contributes to my value as a person.

If you’re also a sensitive type, as many are, and this element of our lives, with the 24 hour news cycle that cable TV and the internet have wrought, stresses you, cut yourself some slack. Find another way to contribute to your world and turn off (or tune out) awareness of the violence out there. With no shame.

And if you need fodder for conversation at the next party or even the evening dinner table, check out Good News Daily or, my favorite source of the week’s news, Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me on NPR.

Take it to heart?

“Take it to heart.” Usually, we hear this phrase applied to feedback, aka criticism, offered by others. We feel like a bigger person if we can listen openly to negative words from someone. Seems to me to be another of those casual phrases that do us more harm than good and deserve a hearty “who says?” challenge.

Way back in grad school, 30 plus years ago, I learned that feedback is effective only when solicited. It’s pretty hard to take in and process effectively something that we didn’t ask for and probably don’t want to hear. We all do better when we seek information to help us improve, rather than have it foisted upon us, in any of the typical forms: fights with loved ones, criticism disguised as ‘help,’ yearly job evaluations. It seems to me that this phrase, “take it to heart”, runs counter to human nature. The phrase implies that a grown-up wants to listen to feedback. Truthfully, I don’t think many of us really yearn to hear that we need to do something differently–even when we know on some level that we do. And challenging ourselves to “take it to heart” implies that we just need to suck it into our inner most being. We impose an expectation that criticism is always true and valid and valuable.

(That always sounds like an absolute. And if you’re a regular reader, you know my ideas on absolutes.)

My challenge is aimed at that last phrase about criticism. Criticism/feedback may be necessary to growth. But is it always true, valid, valuable? Many of us believe that it is. Rather than “take it to heart,” I suggest “take it to mind.” Don’t just expect that, because you are an adult striving to do your best in life, that you have to accept negative words right into your core. Think on feedback. Evaluate it. Test it out, dwell on the accusations or challenges for awhile. See if the words fit your perception. Write about it. Check it out with a friend or therapist. Where is the truth–the helpful portion of the words? And where is the anger or defensiveness or misperception on the part of the giver? What might have more to do with them, who offer the criticism, and less to do with YOU? Incorporate what is valuable, and let go of the rest.

It’s okay–even extremely healthy–to take some time to sort out what comes your way. You don’t have to “take it to heart” to be a functional person.

Feelings: trusted signals?

“Trust your feelings”–truth or fiction?

We’ve all heard this old adage. We use this phrase to urge others to act on gut feelings, usually suggesting that the recipient will “just know” the answer they need. These cultural underpinnings imply that actualized, emotionally healthy persons wisely let feelings be a guide.

Since my mind constantly locks onto these discrepancies in our use of language, I issue a hearty “who says?”

Sometimes, yes, we do want to trust our feelings. However, like so much of our thinking, this phrase is dangerous if we lock into feelings in a black and white way. Feelings aren’t always an indication of “Truth.” Feelings aren’t always effective guides. Take two of the most common feelings: guilt and anxiety.

In most cases, guilt is not factually-based in wrong-doing. Most of our guilt is driven by inaccurate beliefs, largely fueled by a powerful “should.” “I should be happy, I wanted this baby” when you’re overwhelmed by depression, grieving the freedom of pre-baby life. “I should spend more time on X,” when in actuality you find X boring–or you’re doing the best you can to allocate time to X. “I should feel thankful for Y,” when you’re overwhelmed by stress and having difficulty focusing on the positive. We plague ourselves with guilt for not feeling some prescribed way, rather than trusting a favorite adage of mental health professionals, i.e. that “feelings just are.” Maybe it’s ok to be where we are. Maybe we don’t need to second guess our experience.

Anxiety is an even more powerful signal that we seem to cast as reality. If I’m worried about something, we reason, there must be real danger. We give anxiety such power, translating the biochemical process of stress revving through our bodies as a signal to be heeded. Just like guilt, irrational beliefs (e.g. “it will be a catastrophe! Everything will be ruined!”) abound. Much of the time, worry and anxiety are based in conditioned responses. Our bodies habitually respond with this runaway action. As Rick Hanson says, maybe the tiger in the bushes isn’t really a tiger. We’re paying on that debt we may not owe. We’re anticipating future angst, to use a Bible verse (Matthew 6:34) shared with me this week: “Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day.”

I preach (and try to practice myself) to first stop and evaluate, and then hopefully, to dismiss anxiety and guilt. Is this a real worry? Do I truly have anything to feel guilty about? Call it what it is: energy spent in a direction that is not necessary or helpful. “It’s just anxiety–not reality.” “I have no need to feel guilty–I’m doing the best that I can do.” Talk back to those feelings, saying what you would tell a friend. Offer yourself self-compassion, which I’ve taught for years as self-care, and now has credibility, with mention in The New York Times.

The majority of the time, there’s no magic message in anxiety and guilt. Let those feelings go.

Never enough time

If you’re like me, in travels around the web, you click here (or on any of a million blogs), glance at the length of the text, and make a quick assessment: nope, not enough time to read this now/today/ever. I’ve gotten feedback that my posts are too long. Guilty as charged, at times. Often, as I’m trying to condense, I feel like I’m channeling my dad, writing his weekly sermons. Here’s a fact to fight that impulse to click on: My posts are ~500 words. This is the amount the average adult can read in TWO MINUTES.

I try to remind myself of that, as I struggle with the sense that there’s never enough time.

When my older daughter was not even two, she held up a crystal clear mirror to my warped sense of time. Rushing out the door with me, she said (in her toddler pronunciation, unable to say her Rs), “Huwwy, huwwy, Mommy, it’s bad to be late.” Was that really what I wanted to instill in her, a catch-up pace of life?

Impact #2 came years later, from Dallas Morning News columnist Steve Blow. A constant champion of sensible thinking, Steve challenged a colleague who drove like me: always racing to beat the lights, weaving in and out of traffic, certain that this was an essential and valuable time saver. One day, Steve (a confessed granny-type driver) followed the other guy all day, driving in his usual conservative style. By day’s end, the rushed driver had saved approximately two minutes.

Think you must always hurry, or all will be lost? Think you don’t have time to work on change (patience, exercise, clutter–name the goal)? Here’s a few two minute or less investments, quick and dirty ways to improve life while battling the perspective that “I have no time”:

1) Check out “Do Nothing for 2 Minutes.” A mini-meditation guaranteed to calm. (Thanks, Ninotchka, of “Cease, Cows, Life is Short.”)

2) When stressed and feelings prevent your brain from doing what’s best (leading to speaking in anger, overreacting, etc.), tap the fingers on your right (or dominant) hand for 45 seconds. This activates the left hemisphere, the locale of reason in your brain, and helps you switch gears and calm down.

3) Throughout the day, take 2 minutes each hour for slow deep breathing. Definitely leads to lower stress hormones (and better sleep) by day’s end.

4) “Take in the good” for 20-30 seconds. Our brains are wired to attune to the negative. Stopping for this brief time and letting a good experience or memory sink in, beginning the process to rewire the brain more positively. (Thanks again, Rick Hanson!)

Who says you don’t have time to change your life? You can invest a minute at a time.

(For more great time quotes and graphics, check out Our Funny Planet. Thanks to them for this graphic. And we won’t even begin to consider whether time exists–or is an illusion. Just leave that to the physicists.)

A Valentine’s Day reminder

Happy Valentine’s Day! It’s a holiday–so expectations, ever threatening, ramp up again. Remember the five simple rules of happiness: Rule #5 is “expect less.” Pretty hard to do when every other TV commercial is for diamonds and every other aisle in the grocery store looks like this:

This holiday has the potential to suck us into classic all-or-nothing, black and white thinking (that we humans are so prone to): either my loved one does X, or s/he doesn’t love me. Tuning into the underlying intention is good medicine. Even if your sweetie is not a mind reader, it’s good to embrace whatever is offered. Even this epitome of “less,” an innovation in gift baskets that I’d not seen before (and made me laugh out loud):

Hmmm, what chocolate goes best with beer? Perhaps this chocolate bar with bacon that I recently discovered–downright divine. May the sampling commence.

(And if you’re sweetie-less, challenge the automatic thinking that you deserve a capital L on your forehead. Who says presence of a partner is essential validation of wonderful you? Treat yourself today!)

Groundhog Day begone

January, with all that emphasis on resolutions and making new habits, has wrapped up. Phew. I think most of us set our sites high, ending a bit exhausted and discouraged. Then here comes Groundhog Day, with the promise of spring (more implied change) and the metaphor that the pop culture movie created, i.e. to NOT live the same patterns (mistakes?) again and again in an endless Bill Murray loop.

I didn’t post last week, counter to my resolve to post weekly, for two reasons:
1) I was in jury duty ALL DAY Weds. as the court tried to empanel a jury for a DWI case. That was a day with an undercurrent of the difficulty in changing habits. All around me, fellow potential jurors had tales of victimization at the hands of drunk drivers, often repeat offenders. Change is hard.
2) Friday I was excited to attend a continuing education workshop led by Rick Hanson, author of Buddha’s Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of Happiness, Love, and Wisdom. I’d already purchased the book before I knew he was coming to town. Hanson talked about the easy, concrete ways to make changes in our brains that last, certainly a necessary foundation for changing behavior.

Juxtaposition of these two events shows the range of beliefs: change is easy, change is hard. Which is it? Whichever we adopt is powerful in steering our lives.

It’s both–and mostly depends on focus. If we look for big picture, total life revolution, we’re likely to be disappointed. Sometimes, massive steps are essential: if you’re arrested for DWI, it’s time to never again get behind the wheel after having a drink.

Shifting focus clarifies small revolutions. If you expected your January efforts to completely transform you, you’re probably disappointed. One mom described planting flower seeds in a pot with her son. An hour later, the boy was sitting on a stool by the pot, staring at the dirt. “Watching for my flowers to appear,” he explained. We laugh at his innocence. But are we applying the same unrealistic standards to ourselves? Scolding ourselves for not keeping our resolve 110%? Giving up because the pace is too slow, and we’ll never arrive?

In the words of Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson’s character in Star Wars: Episode I), “your focus determines your reality.” Rick Hanson (only a psychologist–not a Jedi master) said this is fact. When we focus on what we don’t accomplish, and how we feel badly, the brain connections for those feelings are strengthened, reinforcing the endless loop. If we can take in how each cookie resisted, each yoga practice, each deep breath is part of action on the path to change, the brain reinforces positive instead, keeping us out of the Groundhog Day rut. Reminds me of my old favorite, the “Did Do” list.

What have you accomplished this year? Tally the moments and take credit!

Confessions of a former skeptic

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

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

“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.