Time for a little TLC

Given my driving theme of self-care in my clinical practice, writing, and my life, imagine the affirmation I felt when I opened the October issue of the lead journal for psychologists, The American Psychologist, and saw this article. This is what I’ve been preaching for years–and here’s a call for the rest of profession to catch up.

I love how Roger Walsh, Ph.D., author of the article has called labeled Therapeutic Lifestyle Changes, “TLCs.” Such an apt abbreviation for the ways in which we all need to take better care of ourselves. The article cites research that backs up the effectiveness of TLCs for an emotionally and physically healthy life, particularly:

  • exercise
  • nutrition and diet
  • nature
  • relationships
  • recreation and enjoyable activities
  • relaxation and stress management
  • religious and spiritual involvement
  • contribution and service

TLCs can be potent, says Walsh. They can influence medical issues such as prostate cancer and coronary conditions. TLCs can be as effective as psychotherapy and medication for treating anxiety and depression.

The self-care survival plan I first wrote about in 1993, the foundation of most of my work, is to nurture yourself physically: rest, sleep, diet, exercise. I recommend dietary supplements and a diet rich in complex carbs, fruits, and vegetables to feed the brain and produce serotonin, the calming neurotransmitter. Developing a support system is step two; find ways to connect with like-minded persons. I recommend yoga, meditation, and breaks/time in nature as part of my emphasis on whole person wellness. But these changes are not easy. That’s one reason I’m writing about them here, to encourage all to practice a little TLC.

Remember this caveat, dear readers, whether you are driven, perfectionistic types who want to completely overhaul your lives or those who feel like you are barely keeping a sinking ship afloat: ONE CHANGE. We can easily overwhelm ourselves by trying to tackling too many changes. Five minutes a day. That’s all you need, for three weeks, until the first habit is sinking in. Then add one more change. And forget the “no time” lament. There are 10,880 minutes in a week. You can carve out 35 to 70 minutes a day to improve your life. There will still be 10,810 minutes left.

If I sound a little triumphant, it’s because this article was particularly vindicating given the tale a client shared with me recently about a local psychiatrist. She was trying to decide who could best help her address her issues, me vs. him. The “good” doctor scoffed at my methods and chosen interventions, calling them the “hippie, homeopathic route.” No question, I’ll be sending him a copy of the article.

The situation on breathing

It’s summer time, season of swimsuits and abs classes. As I was teaching yoga to five people in one room, the abs class next door was a sardine can of men and women, crunching away in pursuit of the elusive six pack. Even now, in the best physical shape of my life, the closest I’m going to get to a six pack is the supermarket beverage aisle. When I was in high school, seems that all the popular people–cheerleaders, athletes–had the taut bellies, firmly establishing the connection that powerful abs were something to seek.

In recent years, the imperative seems to have softened somewhat, at least if the flabby midsections of celebrities showing up on “tell-all” magazine covers in that same supermarket check out line are any clue. Still, we suck in our guts, ever mindful of tightening those muscles to look good. And why is this a problem?

When you’re ever-focused on flat abs, it’s quite likely you never breathe really deeply. We pull in those muscles, concerned about appearance, or toning, or trying to emulate ‘the situation.’ The air doesn’t really fill our lungs completely. With each breath of a healthy breath, we inhale 7 pints of oxygen. With an appearance conscious–or anxious–breath, we inhale only one pint. Not only are we depriving our brains and other organs of the life force of oxygen, when we breath only from the chest, rather than the belly, we are reinforcing the habit. Breathing from the chest restricts the muscles of the shoulders and neck, causing constant tension and constriction in those muscles. In turn, there’s a ripple effect for your abs–which weaken from lack of use in that most basic skill, breathing.

Who says sucking it in is the way to rock hard abs? Reverse this catch-22. Be mindful of bringing all 7 pints of healthy oxygen into your system. You’ll improve brain function and metabolize stress hormones. Breathe in deeply through your nose, filling your lungs and allowing your belly to rise. Then exhale deeply through your nose, pushing your shoulders back and down as you pull your belly button to your spine. It’s easier to restore this healthy habit of breathing if you practice it routinely: two minutes each hour, ten minutes each evening, at each stop light, as you are on hold with that help desk.

As we like to say in yoga practice, you always have your breath. It’s a great built-in tool–use it.

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.