Fear About New Things

Over the past week or two, I've found myself grappling with a question. Actually, it's a few questions (are you surprised?). I can't really state them concisely, because they're existential. Suffice to say they concern my career, and my beliefs about myself and the part I am meant to play in this lifetime.

These are big questions. And yet, their answer symbolically hinges on a series of comparatively minor decisions I will soon make about taking a few classes. 

So what's the big deal? Well, I'm afraid. Irrational though it may be, I'm afraid that pursuing a new education could take me away from myself. I'm afraid that it's incompatible with my self-concept, my strengths, and even my old senses of right/wrong, good/bad, selfless/selfish, etc.

I may be right: the new education may be incompatible with those things. The problem is, I can't help but feel an interest in this new pursuit. It's intriguing to me. 

So maybe this is another step, you know? The processes of growth, change, and exploration quite necessarily require one to venture into previously unexplored territory. I suppose that's what this is.

What a fascinating and humble lesson this is. I think I fancy myself an old pro at being able to handle change, and to accept new challenges, ideas, and realities; and yet now, presented with a new endeavor, I quake. 

Fear is a powerful force! For my part, in this situation, I think the thing to do is acknowledge it, account for it and its effect on me, and, ultimately, ignore it.

Tiny Buddha Published One of My Articles!

I am delighted to share that Tiny Buddha (www.tinybuddha.com) published one of my articles yesterday. What a thrill! If you aren't familiar with Tiny Buddha, I highly, highly recommend it -- add it to your bookmarks, RSS feed, etc. It's chock full of excellent writing and invaluable insight. I'm honored and humbled to have had one of my articles published in that space.

I hope you enjoy it! Click the title below to check it out:

"How We Can Reduce Our Suffering by Feeling Uncomfortable Feelings"

Inspiration from the Pope

Pope Francis recently made the news with a very public act of compassion. In the course of reading about it, I encountered a series of Papal Tweets, one of which was particularly moving to me:

True power is service. The Pope must serve all people, especially the poor, the weak, the vulnerable.
— Pope Francis (@Pontifex) March 19, 2013

I was stunned by that Tweet. I still am. It's so profound in its simplicity and truth; and yet, in view of the rather lofty, almost royal nature of the Papacy itself, it is nearly incomprehensible. Put another way, the Pope is one of the most powerful people on Earth, and powerful people usually do not associate with "the poor, the weak, the vulnerable."

And yet, Pope Francis up and declared that association to be a mandate of his Office. Indeed, he declared the nature of that association to be one of servitude -- whereby he is the servant.

Wow.

I meditated on these thoughts as I took my doggie for a stroll around the neighborhood. I wondered, "What does it mean to serve? What does it mean to do for others? What does it mean to help, and to demonstrate compassion? Is it necessary for us to perform our deeds of service on a grand scale? Must our deeds of service have widespread, notorious impact, on par with a Pope's, in order to be of real value?"

To those last couple of questions, I thought, "Well, no."

The Pope literally embraced a man from whom most would shrink away in disgust or astonishment. He embraced that man as an equal and shared a moment of compassionate supplication with him.

In so doing those things, Pope Francis lifted the spirits of a person who suffers an obvious burden -- and who is likely shunned in a variety of ways because of his burden. And in so doing that, Pope Francis reminded everyone who bore witness that we are all worthy of respect, compassion, and love. 

Francis' simple embrace has resonated with so many people because of the basic fact that we all suffer. Many of our burdens are hidden, or largely invisible to others, but they are there. Each of us, I would argue, longs for unconditional acceptance, compassion, and love, even in view of our flaws; and Francis' embrace reminded us that we are very capable of giving (and receiving) such acceptance, compassion, and love.

On the most basic level, I recall that this all begins with my approach to myself: it begins with my compassion for myself in view of my own suffering. The more I treat myself with compassion, love, and self-respect, the more I emulate those qualities to others.

Be a beacon.

Thanks for reading.

Link: Dealing with Dark Days: Help for When You Don’t Feel Your Best

Dealing with Dark Days: Help for When You Don’t Feel Your Best

This is an excellent article, in my opinion. I recommend reading it!

Feeling Good: Creativity and Mental Health

I recently said I had the idea to create a sort of series from of the "Feeling Good" title of a previous entry. I still like the idea, but I don't know exactly where I'm going with it. No matter -- I'm sure it'll reveal itself. In the meantime, I'd like to take the series into "part 2" with a discussion of creativity.

The late American author Kurt Vonnegut said, "To practice any art, no matter how well or how badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So go do it."

That's one of those quotes that makes you feel good when you first read it. To revisit it, however, is to likely feel some uncertainty. Okay, it sounds good, but what does it mean?

The way I see it, artistic, or creative, endeavors are those activities that allow us to express ourselves in a vital way.

For example, I use language. I see it as as a vehicle by which I can express myself in ways that serve my needs at the moment. Writing can give me relief from relentless mind-chatter; a conversation can help me open my eyes to a new perspective, and get me "un-stuck" from old, unhelpful beliefs; and I can use my words to share my ideas with others. I can also -- imagine that! -- have fun with it.

(the author, caught in a moment of feverish note-taking)

To me, then, creativity is an activity that can mean many different things, depending on the time and the person. Some people focus on one creative form, while others dabble in several. Regardless, there is no right or wrong: it's deeply personal, and you get to decide for yourself.

In my opinion, there is great value in expressing the content of our hearts, minds, and souls; and whether that content be deeply personal, or silly, shallow, and topical, is quite beside the point. It is the practice that Vonnegut referred to that can encourage peace, self-knowledge, and acceptance. 

Preferences vs. Acceptance

It Is Possible!

Hi! It's nice to be writing here again. I didn't intend to take such a long break, but, well, I did. I took a trip back home to visit family and friends, so that certainly contributed to my relative silence. Mainly, though, I think I needed to recharge.

I've been slowly reading Memories, Dreams, Reflections by Carl Jung. It's my first immersive experience with Jung's work, and it's been fascinating, enlightening, inspiring, affirming, and serendipitous. (A lot of 'ings'!) It will undoubtedly influence my work here, although I cannot yet say how, exactly.

In the meantime, I did some further thinking about the name for this blog. I've been vaguely mystified by it since I picked it, and I've seriously considered changing it on more than one occasion. It doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, you know? Mental Health for Humans. There's so much buzz online and on bookshelves about "branding" and "web friendly content" and the like, and I've realized all along that this blog pretty much flies in the face of what's considered clever formatting. But what I finally decided is this:

I DON'T CARE ABOUT THOSE THINGS.

So what if the name of this blog is strange, or even awkward? So what if I don't always keep my blog posts short, or pepper them with witty lists, or find the latest, greatest bells and whistles to entice Today's Discerning Reader?

I'm my own person, and this blog is a conscious and unconscious reflection of who I am, and what I'm about. Why should I try to make this blog be anything but my blog? Why shouldn't I take my own advice and, you know, honor who I really am? "Mental Health for Humans," a name I created, is the perfect name for this blog which I also happened to create. So that's that.

But I realized something else, too. Namely, I have a real ax to grind, and have for some time, about our society's general perception of mental health. Mental health isn't just a subject for psychiatrists, therapists, nurses, students, patients, or the families and friends of patients. No, mental health is for ALL of us. Mental health, simply and profoundly is, yes, for humans to consider -- because if you have mental activity (which we humans certainly do), you have some degree, or lack thereof, of mental health. It's just like how if you have a body, you have some degree, or lack thereof, of physical health. You dig?

It makes me sad that my culture so strongly devalues giving attention to one's own inner life. We are trained to believe that happiness is to be found outside us somewhere -- maybe in a new car, or a bigger bank account, or in our partner. Culturally, we give lip service to individualism and personal responsibility, but we are quick to blame other people for our problems. We proclaim to value strength and toughness, but we avoid coming to terms with ourselves.

We humans are full of contradictions, and that's fine, in and of itself. However, we get into real trouble with our contradictions when we try to bury them, or to pretend they aren't there, i.e., when we try to avoid them. (Not coincidentally, that's how we get into real trouble with most things.) For my part, I feel it's important to do what I can to shine a light on these matters, because I believe they unnecessarily enslave far too many of us.

It is possible to live a free and satisfying life. Will it be perfect? No! Does it have to be? Heck no! Life is a strange and mysterious process of becoming. It is ever unfolding into an uncertain future, and it does so along an often curving and elliptical path. We are marvelously complex and fascinating creatures, and no two of us is the same. My hope is for us all to move toward a freer, kinder, and more peaceful shared reality.

But it starts with you. It starts with me. It starts, not "out there" somewhere, but "in here" -- inside your own (my own) mind and heart. Recall the words which are variously attributed to Gandhi: "Be the change you wish to see in the world." The wisdom, values, dreams, and essential self which you seek are all right there, right now. Enjoy it. And enjoy the ride that is this lifetime.

Thanks for reading.

Snapshot: Accepting Imperfection

Snapshot: Loss and Grieving

Here's one of the takeaways from "Loss and Grieving," as I see it:

Loss and Grieving

Coping with the loss of someone or something important is one of the most difficult tasks a person can face. It is in our nature, after all, to get attached to things; and, to put it clinically, when the object of our attachment is gone, we suffer. Its absence leaves what feels like a gaping void in our hearts, and the grief can be overwhelming, all-encompassing.

We get attached to people, places, and things. We get attached to our routines, our opinions, our beliefs, our goals, our homes, our lifestyles, our expectations.

It's almost as if we're lined with an adhesive, we get so attached to things.

And that's okay.

Attachments really only become an evident issue for us when we experience suffering. Fortunately, the consideration of suffering is a road well-traveled by our forebears, and we can all lean on their wisdom and guidance for assistance. The Buddha, for example, addressed the matter of human suffering in great detail. Regardless of your religious or spiritual identity / orientation, and even regardless of whether you believe in a higher power, are agnostic, or are atheist, The Four Noble Truths are useful guides in view of suffering. I recommend taking a look at them.

I'm not here to promote Buddhism, though. I'm here to talk about what it feels like to lose something, to grieve, and to heal.

Loss can make one feel utterly empty. It can feel shocking, unreal, and overwhelming. Loss can incite feelings of incredible sadness and longing. It can feel as if one's entire world has ended, and has been swallowed up, furthermore, by some deep and terrible void. It can feel like it's never going to end, and that there's no hope. Chances are good, actually, that a major loss will incite any combination of those experiences in a person. 

Grieving -- something which follows and emerges from loss -- is a process. And as with any emotional process, it's a safe bet to expect some tumult; that is, a person who is grieving will probably experience a wide spectrum of feelings, and will very possibly be on the proverbial emotional roller coaster. What's more, each person's grieving process will "look" different, and will span any number of days, weeks, months, or years, even.

Are you familiar with the concept of the Five Stages of Grief (as articulated by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross)? They can be a useful guide for better-understanding the grieving process. One thing I learned, though, is that the stages do not necessarily occur in order. Oftentimes, a person who is grieving will, for example, experience several stages simultaneously, or will revisit stages as time goes on. That fluidity between the stages is important to keep in mind, because it can otherwise be very confusing and disappointing if one finds themselves "regressing."

Another important consideration is that different cultures have different perspectives on loss and grieving. ("Culture," in this case, can refer to groups big and small, from entire populations on down to families.) There is extraordinary diversity among attitudes toward death, for example. There are rules and guidelines among different cultures, both written and unwritten, which inform the processes of grieving and letting go.

At any rate, that brings us to the question, what does it mean to heal in the wake of a loss? The thing that keeps returning to my mind around this question is a metaphor I learned as an intern mental health counselor:

Imagine your heart (not the organ; rather, your center of feeling) is a glass. When you suffer a major loss, it's as if a large, foreign object is uncomfortably wedged into the glass. What many people hope for is that, over time, the foreign object -- the burden of the loss, the pain and suffering -- will shrink. While that may be so, there's a better way to think about it: imagine that the glass, your heart, expands over time, thereby more comfortably accommodating the sense of loss.

I love that metaphor, because it's true: Loss doesn't entirely go away, but our abilities to accommodate it and integrate it into our daily lives do expand.

We cannot help but be indelibly changed when we experience loss. But we aren't forever diminished by loss, either. No. Instead, we are transformed by loss. If we attend to our suffering in a compassionate manner, we are transformed into beings with greater capacities for love, peace, self-knowledge, understanding, forgiveness, acceptance, and compassion. We are transformed into more complete versions of ourselves -- as if a layer of steam has been wiped off a window.

Thanks for reading.

Snapshot: "Releasing the Grip of Anxiety"

Releasing the Grip of Anxiety: Acceptance & Compassion

I want to write about anxiety. First of all, everyone feels anxious periodically. It's part of caring about things, and it's part of being human. Like other emotional experiences, anxiety provides us with important feedback in a given situation. It's adaptive, it's necessary to our well-being, it's valuable, and it's good. There's nothing wrong with anxiety in and of itself.

Some of us, though, experience anxiety to a disruptive, invasive, and even debilitating extent. And of course, this can be an occasional experience, or a persistent one, or one that waxes and wanes, or one that eventually disappears altogether, etc. There's a lot of variation with it.

Anyway, how do we differentiate between normal/healthy anxiety and problematic anxiety? My view, in general terms, is that anxiety (or any experience, really) is an issue when it persistently, invasively interferes with one's ability to function in a personally satisfying way.

(Incidentally, my view is pretty common among mental health professionals, and it more or less jives with how the various mental health "disorders" are defined by the DSM-IV-TR, which is the clinical reference guide used by mental health professionals in the USA [and some other parts of the world].)

There are many so-called Anxiety Disorders in the DSM, and for brevity's sake, I will not discuss them all here. And besides, that's enough about the problem of anxiety -- let's move into a discussion of ideas and solutions.

I think anxiety's roots are in avoidance. That is NOT to say I think it is a person's "fault" for having a problem with anxiety -- not at all!! Here's the thing: I think we all want to feel good. So when something really bad happens to a person, they do the best they can to move on with their life. And sometimes that entails developing new sets of beliefs about themselves, and about life in general; and sometimes it also entails compartmentalizing or otherwise pushing aside one's thoughts and feelings.

That all makes sense, especially in view of our intuitive desire to feel good. "Avoidance," then, in this case, is about avoiding that which causes suffering. The problem, though, is that it doesn't really work -- at least, not when it comes to the often messy reality of our inner lives. That's what I meant when I posted this image a few weeks ago:

What disruptive anxiety "says" to me, then, is that the sufferer probably has some inner "stuff" they need to approach and consider in order to truly move on. In other words, one's past must be accepted and released before one can truly occupy the present in happiness and health.

I'll be straight-up with you: The process of approaching one's "stuff" is usually pretty scary and uncomfortable; and that can seem a little counter-intuitive, of course, seeing as how the ultimate goal is achieving a greater measure of peace. 

The thing is, that's okay. Sometimes, that which seems paradoxical conceals a deeper truth. 

Take it slow. Whether you choose to undertake the process on your own, or with another person's assistance (i.e., a counselor), make sure you're in a safe, secure place in which you feel as free as possible to express anything that comes up. Also, set an expectation for yourself that it won't necessarily be a linear, quick-fix process -- and setting that expectation is important, by the way, because it invokes the keys to release: Acceptance and Compassion.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that self-directed Acceptance and Compassion are ALWAYS harbingers of positive things to come in terms of peace, happiness, well-being, clarity, balance, and achievement. 

Here's the beautiful thing: we don't necessarily have to like something in order to accept it; and we don't necessarily have to agree with someone's actions in order to show them compassion. 

In other words, it's okay to say, "Wow, that thing that happened was really unpleasant. It was really painful. I really wish it hadn't happened." You can retain that basic attitude and still, at the end of the day, augment it with acceptance: "But it did happen. It happened. I survived it, and I'm sitting here right now."

We all have aspects of ourselves which we don't like. We've all done things we regret. We've all done things which, even today, make us feel sad and guilty to ponder. We've all done things in violation of our senses of right and wrong. And we've all had bad things done to us.

While that stuff isn't great, it doesn't mean we deserve to forever languish under the burden of displaced torment.

I firmly believe that we are all worthy of happiness and peace -- which means that we are worthy of acceptance, worthy of compassion, and worthy of forgiveness. 

After all, none of us is perfect. Let me repeat that (in all caps): NONE OF US IS PERFECT. (You might not like it, but you have to accept it.) What that means, in part, is that we periodically make big mistakes. Sometimes we screw up and hurt other people; sometimes other people screw up and hurt us.

The only thing to do is practice acceptance and compassion.

And it starts with us. It starts with each of us giving those things to ourselves, first and foremost. It starts with each of us being the kindest, most loving friend to ourselves that we can imagine. 

You, Dear Reader, are worth it. I know it in my bones. 

Thank you for reading this post. I hope you have an awesome day. 

Boxing Jello

When I was younger and having a really hard time, I would try to change the way I felt through sheer, willful force. I would perform mental gymnastics that would make a Russian Olympian jealous in my futile attempts at retooling my savage emotional life. Initially, I didn't realize my efforts were just that -- futile. And now that I've learned the lesson, I've come to think of that process as being akin to punching a giant cube of jello: it might yield at first, but it just coagulates around your fist and reforms after you pull back; and all you, the puncher-in-earnest, are left with is your frustration: the jello remains.

The first step for me was to realize that hey, maybe I should just let myself feel however I happen to feel at any given moment. That, in turn, opened the door to the important realization that negative feelings, even powerful ones such as anger, are not intrinsically bad. I had affixed a lot of meaning to anger in particular; I believed -- very strongly -- it was just that: bad. When you believe something to be bad, you generally try to avoid it; and I had practiced a lifetime of avoiding anger and other negative feelings -- to deleterious effects, as it turned out.

The problem with attempts to outright reject, change, or avoid thoughts and feelings is that it doesn't really work. The harder you push, the harder they push back; your efforts just amplify their force. Avoidance seems to do the trick, because you sort of don't have to experience the feeling for awhile. But instead of going away, the feeling gathers strength, becomes toxic, and forces its way out, one way or the other -- maybe as explosive, uncontrolled rage, or passive-aggressiveness, or drug abuse, or overeating, or under eating, or self-harm, etc.

And that's the tragic thing, folks: when you try to avoid, reject, or otherwise forcefully control your feelings, they gather strength and seize control of you.

So what's a person to do? To be sure, it's an uphill battle, for a couple reasons. The first is that the behavior pattern I described above is complicated, and can be difficult to change; it can take time, effort, and patience. The other reason is that our society reinforces and encourages those behaviors. For example, men are supposed to square their jaw and "lock it up." Traditionally, in many cultures, men aren't supposed to talk about their feelings. They're supposed to be dominant, stoic. And if they fly into the occasional rage, punch a wall, scream at their partner, get into a fight, etc., well, then, boys will be boys, right? Drink a six pack on a Tuesday, and all is right with the world. Women, on the other hand, are supposed to be emotional. As a result of their "emotional dispositions," tradition holds, women are supposed to be irrational, manipulative, passive-aggressive, and have hidden agendas. As long as they're deferential, obsessed with their appearance, modest, into gossip, and really interested in shopping, what's the problem?

My view is that there's a big problem there. These roles, these "supposed to's," destroy people. These roles and rules render behaviors taboo which might otherwise promote clarity, calm, and health. God forbid, right? Not everyone fits into those tidy little buckets. I'd venture to say that, given the problems those roles create, no one actually fits into those tidy little buckets.

Our thoughts and feelings are part of us, but they are not our entire person, any more than our hands, feet, eyes, or nose are our entire person. When we get a head cold, our body lets us know what's happening; we get achy, we get a sore throat, we get tired. These "symptoms" are messages from our body, saying, "Hey! I need you to rest, drink lots of water, and dial it back a notch or two!" Our thoughts and feelings are messengers, too, and they operate in a similar manner. Instead of seeking to change or reject them, it's helpful, in my experience, to get curious about them: "Hey, I'm really sad, and I don't know why. What's that sadness trying to 'tell' me?"

That's it: acceptance, curiosity, and compassion. Have a good day, folks!

Radical Acceptance

Are you familiar with the term, "radical acceptance?" Whether you answer yes or no, take a moment to think about what it means to you. As for me, I had a breakthrough experience with it earlier this morning, and I'm excited to share it here.

I've always had a tendency toward introspection, and, as a result, I'd even classify myself as being mostly introverted, which is fine. (There's a lot of great literature out there regarding the benefits [and pitfalls] of introversion. I don't want to go down that rabbit hole right now, but Google it if you're curious.) The problem I've encountered with my introversion, particularly over the past 15 years or so, is that I've reinforced many of my unhelpful, personally restrictive "deep thoughts" and conclusions about myself. The result is that, in service of self-improvement and awareness, I've established a near-automatic denial mechanism against what I've deemed the more undesirable and uncomfortable aspects of my inner life.

In other words, I've spent a lot of time trying to push away or reprogram many of my thoughts, impulses, feelings, and aspects of self -- all because I've labeled them irrational or bad, somehow. I've been aware of this habit for some time now, and it's definitely reaped some important benefits; but now that I've reaped those benefits and continue to repeat the process, it causes me more pain than anything.

What happened this morning, then, was both unexpected and highly welcome. I found myself thinking, and having all sorts of thoughts, feelings, and impulses (par for the course). Inevitably, things started coming up that I habitually try to push away, reject, avoid, or argue with. Instead of doing those things, however, I found myself...how do I put this? It's almost as if I gave each of those things a pat on the back when they came up. Every time something came up, I more or less said to myself, "I accept you (this part of myself), I love you, and you're good. You're part of me, and I like that."

WOW! What a change! I instantly felt lighter, easier, and happier. I saw the good that each of those aspects of myself has been attempting to bring into my life. I saw how they round out my personality, and my humanity.

And that, folks, was my awesome experience with radical acceptance this morning. Thanks for reading!!

Link: "Accepting the Unacceptable"

This is a good, concise article on acceptance by Eric Sudler, M.S. at The Albert Ellis Institute's blog.

http://albertellis.org/accepting-the-unacceptable/