I couldn't sleep, and then out of nowhere, completely devoid of context, like a hot knife through butter, a simple statement emerged from my mouth:
"Forgive yourself."
All the angry, restless, relentlessly obsessive thoughts crashed to a halt.
"Forgive yourself," the voice repeated.
"Forgive yourself."
I fell asleep.
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
Thursday, August 8, 2013
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!
This is an excellent article, in my opinion. I recommend reading it!
Monday, March 18, 2013
Saturday, March 16, 2013
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:
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.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Monday, March 4, 2013
CRISIS
Today, I'm going to write about CRISIS.
I don't think it's a stretch to say most of us have experienced crises of some sort. They occur when the proverbial straw breaks the camel's back, or when an unexpected, major event occurs. Either way, when a crisis happens, it changes things -- maybe everything, or close to it -- and it cannot be ignored.
I don't have a ton of insight to share on managing crises; after all, they're each their own unique little bundle of joy (haha). Crises also tend to induce varying degrees of "survival mode" in people, and that, pretty much, is what it is. Crises can be pretty unpleasant, and all those involved do the best they can with them.
That all being said, when a crisis occurs, the people who have to take action seem to dissociate a little bit, generally speaking, and interestingly enough. In other words, they detach a bit from the emotional impact of the event in order to preserve their decision-making abilities and get things done; and that's a good thing, in my opinion, because after all, in times of crisis, things have to get done.
I experienced a bit of a family crisis over the weekend. (I'll refrain from sharing details, but thankfully, everyone involved is alive and relatively well.) When the crisis was at its peak, I found myself in an Action Mode state very similar to what I described above. And it was necessary and good, believe me.
What I took note of, though, and what I'd like to underscore here, was the stuff that happened after the crisis -- that is, once the situation had stabilized.
Generally speaking, the immediate aftermath was, for me, almost equally as dicey as the crisis itself, but in a different sense. My dissociation had faded; but while there was still plenty of business to attend to, I no longer had the luxury of operating with that nice little buffer zone between myself and my emotions. Instead, I suddenly found myself having to manage my tumultuous, intense, and crisis-induced emotional responses along with my need to take care of business.
Everyone experiences and expresses their emotions differently, especially in times of stress. I did notice, though, that it was tempting to indulge catastrophic thinking. After all, I was worried; my system was flooded with adrenaline; and my brain was teeming with unusual levels of neurotransmitters. In other words, everything in me was ready to FREAK OUT. Hell, everything in me WANTED to freak out. So whenever there was a new development, I felt myself escalating. Minor annoyances became Big Deals; passing, innocuous thoughts were Urgent Matters.
It was exhausting, and it was unpleasant. After all, I was aware of what was happening with me, and I initially tried to do exactly what I recently warned against: forcefully change my thoughts and feelings. Oy. Mercifully, I soon realized that all I could really do was to breathe, let myself experience whatever came up, and be my own best friend. That helped -- a lot.
So. In the aftermath of a crisis, be extra compassionate and forgiving with yourself. Let yourself experience whatever it is you’re experiencing. Know that you're probably going to think and feel a lot of contradictory things, or things that surprise you, or things you wish you wouldn't. You might even feel yourself regressing, or being pulled into old, unwanted habits of communication and behavior. Whatever the case may be, have patience with yourself, give yourself “space” to exist, and know that “this, too, shall pass.”
A few closing thoughts. If other people are involved with you in a crisis, know that they’re going through their own versions of the experience, and that they, too, are probably thinking, feeling, saying, and doing things that are unusual, unwelcome, or unfamiliar. Or maybe not. Either way, extend to them the same senses of compassion and forgiveness I described above.
I don't think it's a stretch to say most of us have experienced crises of some sort. They occur when the proverbial straw breaks the camel's back, or when an unexpected, major event occurs. Either way, when a crisis happens, it changes things -- maybe everything, or close to it -- and it cannot be ignored.
I don't have a ton of insight to share on managing crises; after all, they're each their own unique little bundle of joy (haha). Crises also tend to induce varying degrees of "survival mode" in people, and that, pretty much, is what it is. Crises can be pretty unpleasant, and all those involved do the best they can with them.
That all being said, when a crisis occurs, the people who have to take action seem to dissociate a little bit, generally speaking, and interestingly enough. In other words, they detach a bit from the emotional impact of the event in order to preserve their decision-making abilities and get things done; and that's a good thing, in my opinion, because after all, in times of crisis, things have to get done.
(Image from Google Image search "git er done"...I couldn't help myself)
I experienced a bit of a family crisis over the weekend. (I'll refrain from sharing details, but thankfully, everyone involved is alive and relatively well.) When the crisis was at its peak, I found myself in an Action Mode state very similar to what I described above. And it was necessary and good, believe me.
What I took note of, though, and what I'd like to underscore here, was the stuff that happened after the crisis -- that is, once the situation had stabilized.
Generally speaking, the immediate aftermath was, for me, almost equally as dicey as the crisis itself, but in a different sense. My dissociation had faded; but while there was still plenty of business to attend to, I no longer had the luxury of operating with that nice little buffer zone between myself and my emotions. Instead, I suddenly found myself having to manage my tumultuous, intense, and crisis-induced emotional responses along with my need to take care of business.
Everyone experiences and expresses their emotions differently, especially in times of stress. I did notice, though, that it was tempting to indulge catastrophic thinking. After all, I was worried; my system was flooded with adrenaline; and my brain was teeming with unusual levels of neurotransmitters. In other words, everything in me was ready to FREAK OUT. Hell, everything in me WANTED to freak out. So whenever there was a new development, I felt myself escalating. Minor annoyances became Big Deals; passing, innocuous thoughts were Urgent Matters.
It was exhausting, and it was unpleasant. After all, I was aware of what was happening with me, and I initially tried to do exactly what I recently warned against: forcefully change my thoughts and feelings. Oy. Mercifully, I soon realized that all I could really do was to breathe, let myself experience whatever came up, and be my own best friend. That helped -- a lot.
So. In the aftermath of a crisis, be extra compassionate and forgiving with yourself. Let yourself experience whatever it is you’re experiencing. Know that you're probably going to think and feel a lot of contradictory things, or things that surprise you, or things you wish you wouldn't. You might even feel yourself regressing, or being pulled into old, unwanted habits of communication and behavior. Whatever the case may be, have patience with yourself, give yourself “space” to exist, and know that “this, too, shall pass.”
A few closing thoughts. If other people are involved with you in a crisis, know that they’re going through their own versions of the experience, and that they, too, are probably thinking, feeling, saying, and doing things that are unusual, unwelcome, or unfamiliar. Or maybe not. Either way, extend to them the same senses of compassion and forgiveness I described above.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Boxing Jello
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!
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Addendum to "A Certain 'F You' Sensibility"
I want to clarify my use of the word "control" in my last post. Control is a precious commodity, and it's something we don't ever really possess in great measure; i.e., we control very, very little in our lives. So when I said "control," I meant it; but the things I was really referring to were mindfulness and autonomy. The more mindful and autonomous we are, the better-equipped we are to take the reigns, so to speak, of our own lives, as opposed to being knocked around by our feelings, our thoughts, our automatic behaviors, and our fears.
Thanks!
Thanks!
A Certain "F You" Sensibility
(This post contains some adult language.)
I can't remember if I've ever mentioned it here, but I studied theater in college with an emphasis in acting. (In fact, I went on to pursue a career in theater for a few years after I graduated, but that's a story for another time.)
It was really difficult.
Before you start laughing ("Haha -- I studied engineering; you have no idea what "difficult" is), know that an intensive study of acting basically equates to human behavior boot camp. Learning how to "live truthfully within imaginary circumstances" (Sanford Mesiner's definition of acting), i.e., live onstage -- in the moment, natural, free, listening, focusing, responding, speaking, etc. -- while other people are watching you, is a very difficult task. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you it entails learning how to be a person all over again, from the most basic tasks, such as walking, on up.
As you might imagine, learning how to act is a process unique to each person. We each have our own learned restrictions, both conscious and subconscious, which stand in the way of the kind of truthful living required of a person when they're acting. Many of those restrictions are there for good reason in day-to-day life. But if you're going to be an actor, you have to be willing to face them, break them down, and proceed in spite of them.
That's a tall order, believe me. Letting go of defense mechanisms is really scary. After all, they're called defense mechanisms for a reason: they're in place to ostensibly protect us from vulnerability and danger.
The revelatory part, though, is that this frightening process of constantly letting go of your defenses eventually teaches you that you are far stronger than you had ever previously imagined. That's a very cool thing to realize. And it's empowering, furthermore, because you begin to realize that, hey, maybe I don't need to carry all these defenses around with me; maybe I can be more selective with them.
Maybe, by letting go, I'm actually opening the door to being in greater control of myself.
That's awesome. That right there is real self-awareness, mindfulness, and control.
The path to letting go is not smooth and straight. It's a bumpy road, with lots of switchbacks and intersections. You've got to buckle up and be willing to stick with it, and have patience. It's a tall order.
Many of my acting classes were very Socratic in the sense that they involved a lot of dialogue between the students and the professor. In one class in particular, the dialogue largely concerned identifying defense mechanisms and the do-able process of moving beyond them. I remember my professor saying to us, "It takes a certain 'fuck you' attitude. You're saying 'fuck you' to your fears: your fear of what will happen if you let go; and your fear of others' judgment."
It was a powerful statement. Little did I know at the time, it contained a wisdom which transcends acting and applies to many of our struggles in life. For example, many people have a hard time being assertive. And when they decide to give assertiveness a shot, they feel anxious and out of control -- as if they're being aggressive, in fact. The truth of the matter, though, is that their emotional barometer isn't on point: it's fogged up by their fear. So what feels like aggression is simply fear trying to maintain its grip, and keep the person from doing something new.
If there's an aspect of your life you want to change, or if there's something you want to let go, or if you want to behave differently in some regard, take heed. Know that the restriction which is keeping you from doing what you actually want to do is nothing more than fear. Most of the time, the fear is simply a byproduct of old hurts, and is not applicable to your present circumstances. Tell the fear, "Fuck you, you can't keep me from being the person I want to be," and leap into action.
It'll be scary, but it'll be worth it. And with practice, you'll find that it gets easier, and that your courageousness takes flight.
I can't remember if I've ever mentioned it here, but I studied theater in college with an emphasis in acting. (In fact, I went on to pursue a career in theater for a few years after I graduated, but that's a story for another time.)
It was really difficult.
Before you start laughing ("Haha -- I studied engineering; you have no idea what "difficult" is), know that an intensive study of acting basically equates to human behavior boot camp. Learning how to "live truthfully within imaginary circumstances" (Sanford Mesiner's definition of acting), i.e., live onstage -- in the moment, natural, free, listening, focusing, responding, speaking, etc. -- while other people are watching you, is a very difficult task. I'm not exaggerating when I tell you it entails learning how to be a person all over again, from the most basic tasks, such as walking, on up.
As you might imagine, learning how to act is a process unique to each person. We each have our own learned restrictions, both conscious and subconscious, which stand in the way of the kind of truthful living required of a person when they're acting. Many of those restrictions are there for good reason in day-to-day life. But if you're going to be an actor, you have to be willing to face them, break them down, and proceed in spite of them.
That's a tall order, believe me. Letting go of defense mechanisms is really scary. After all, they're called defense mechanisms for a reason: they're in place to ostensibly protect us from vulnerability and danger.
The revelatory part, though, is that this frightening process of constantly letting go of your defenses eventually teaches you that you are far stronger than you had ever previously imagined. That's a very cool thing to realize. And it's empowering, furthermore, because you begin to realize that, hey, maybe I don't need to carry all these defenses around with me; maybe I can be more selective with them.
Maybe, by letting go, I'm actually opening the door to being in greater control of myself.
That's awesome. That right there is real self-awareness, mindfulness, and control.
The path to letting go is not smooth and straight. It's a bumpy road, with lots of switchbacks and intersections. You've got to buckle up and be willing to stick with it, and have patience. It's a tall order.
Many of my acting classes were very Socratic in the sense that they involved a lot of dialogue between the students and the professor. In one class in particular, the dialogue largely concerned identifying defense mechanisms and the do-able process of moving beyond them. I remember my professor saying to us, "It takes a certain 'fuck you' attitude. You're saying 'fuck you' to your fears: your fear of what will happen if you let go; and your fear of others' judgment."
It was a powerful statement. Little did I know at the time, it contained a wisdom which transcends acting and applies to many of our struggles in life. For example, many people have a hard time being assertive. And when they decide to give assertiveness a shot, they feel anxious and out of control -- as if they're being aggressive, in fact. The truth of the matter, though, is that their emotional barometer isn't on point: it's fogged up by their fear. So what feels like aggression is simply fear trying to maintain its grip, and keep the person from doing something new.
If there's an aspect of your life you want to change, or if there's something you want to let go, or if you want to behave differently in some regard, take heed. Know that the restriction which is keeping you from doing what you actually want to do is nothing more than fear. Most of the time, the fear is simply a byproduct of old hurts, and is not applicable to your present circumstances. Tell the fear, "Fuck you, you can't keep me from being the person I want to be," and leap into action.
It'll be scary, but it'll be worth it. And with practice, you'll find that it gets easier, and that your courageousness takes flight.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Anger
(Image from Google Images search of "anger." Subtitle: "A Rant on Anger & Ranting: Robots Don't Rant" comedyrants.com)
I have some disjointed thoughts on anger that I'd like to share.
Anger can be a very useful experience. Most of the time, anger incites us to action; that is, when we get angry about something, we usually feel impulses and think thoughts that involve us doing something about the situation about which we are angry. So in that regard, anger is adaptive and normal, you know? After all, sometimes we need to feel all fired up about something that isn't working for us before we can do something to change it.
Anger can be a very destructive force. There's a saying that goes something like, "Anger is like a hot coal: the only person who gets hurt by it is the one who holds onto it." And that's true. Anger that isn't somehow released gets sublimated into any variety of negative, even destructive (as I said) experiences. One of the laws of physics and nature is that energy can be neither created nor destroyed. Similarly, buried anger (and buried emotions of any kind, for that matter) always find a way to the surface, whether it manifests as passive-aggressive behaviors, muddled thinking, or explosive, disproportional responses to frustrations, for example.
The habit of suppressing anger has a particularly destructive potential. Folks who don't know how to release their anger oftentimes exhibit frightening, abusive, or otherwise dysfunctional behavior. Such behavior can be directed outward to others, or inward toward themselves, and create all sorts of problems, issues, and heartache.
Anger is a powerful force, and is to be respected.
Anger, by my way of looking at it, is a "secondary emotion." That is, anger is usually an automatic response to an internal or external experience which leaves a person feeling powerless, vulnerable, helpless, confused, or sad. It is important to recognize and assume ownership of these more "primary" feelings, because they are usually the key to the anger's release.
More on this another time. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Link: Vague Notions (Web Comic Series)
Hello! You may have noticed that I've provided links in the sidebar to other sites I find useful, entertaining, or otherwise engaging. One of them, Vague Notions, is a great web comic I stumbled across a few months ago. In the author/illustrator's words, Vague Notions, "is a comic about depression, anxiety, and all that fun stuff!" It's content is honest and poignant, and often very, very funny.
Check out this comic from January 31st, which includes the main character (sitting at a desk in a hoodie sweatshirt in the first panel), and the dual nemeses of what I refer to as anxiety (shouting at the main character in the first and second panels) and depression (whispering horrors to the character in the 3rd panel).
The comic is updated three times per week, and any visitor can look through the archives for free.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
When Work is Wearing You Down
I solicited suggestions for topics the other day on Facebook, and somebody recommended that I write a post about work, which I think is a great idea. The person who made the recommendation correctly observed that work, for better or worse, is a huge part of our lives (for most of us).
Aside from the many hours we spend on the job, we also need to account for the time we spend getting ready for the day, traveling to the office, traveling home from the office, and transitioning back into what remains of the rest of the day or evening. That time adds up quickly, especially when you consider that, for many people, that process repeats itself almost ceaselessly until retirement. So it can be said, then, that work costs us our time. Work also costs us money; we dedicate considerable financial resources to work. For example, we spend money on commuting, on our wardrobe, and on feeding ourselves during the work day.
The biggest potential cost of work, though, is on our mind, heart, and spirit.
Whether we like what we do for work or not, we've all had "one of those days." Sometimes, for some people, "one of those days" turns into "one of those" weeks, months, years, and even careers, unfortunately. And it doesn't even have to be so drastic and acute, you know? Dissatisfaction, boredom, and aimlessness in one's work can sneak up on a person, insidiously, until they find themselves thoroughly exhausted by life, and dreading "just another damn day at the office." Viewed in that light, the sardonic worker-bee refrain, "another day, another dollar: and not a penny more" is grim indeed.
I've been there, to be sure -- on the aforementioned journey of acute occupational dissatisfaction, that is. I was miserable with my work; and not so much because of the nature of the work in question, but rather because of the fact that I didn't at that time have an identifiable aim for my professional life. I perceived what I was doing to be nothing more than a means to some meaningless end, and utterly devoid, furthermore, of relevance and importance to my life's mission. It made no sense to me, given the arc of my life, and I dreaded waking up for work in the morning as a result. If that sounds dramatic, that's because it was dramatic.
So, what got me through? For that matter, what gets anyone through occupational despair? I guess I can't definitively answer for everyone, because, well, I'm not everyone. But I suspect that some folks are highly adept at compartmentalizing their lives; i.e., they're able to keep their dissatisfaction with work at work, and go on with the business of enjoying the rest of their lives. If that resonates with you, please know that I'm insanely jealous of, and happy for, you. :) For others, though, and for myself, certainly, a four-letter H-word is the key: hope. I'm not talking about pie-in-the-sky hope, mind you; I'm talking about real hope.
Have you ever wondered why and how such terrible things in our history as, for example, slavery and coal mining gave rise to such rich, amazing, and influential music? To my way of thinking, slaves and miners were horribly oppressed by the nature of their work, and they needed to be lifted up. Moreover, I think their needs for happiness and fulfillment simply refused to die: they fought their ways to the surface, and they emerged in brilliant melody and time signature. The music which these groups of people made, then, was the manifestation and reminder of the spirit -- of the life -- which continued to dwell within them, despite their troubles. And so it goes with all of us, my friends -- that spirit, and that urge to thrive, dwells within us all.
I'm reminded of a Grateful Dead song, called "Cumberland Blues," that nearly always brings me to tears when I hear it. Here some of the lyrics:
Lotta poor man make a five-dollar bill
Keeps him happy all the time
Some other fella's makin' nothin' at all
And you can hear him cry:
"Can I go, buddy? Can I go down?
Take your shift at the mine?"
Gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine (gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine)
That's where I mainly spend my time
Make good money, five dollars a day
Made any more I might move away
Lotta poor man got the Cumberland blues
He can't win for losin'
Lotta poor man got to walk the line
Just to pay his union dues
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again
(Click here to listen to the song on YouTube)
The rest of the song's lyrics help flesh it out; but to me, it's a workingman's song of desperation, and it's heartbreaking. It's a testament to the bad old days, when coal mining was a much more prevalent occupation than it is now, and even more dangerous. A piece of me wants to give thanks that we've evolved beyond work conditions like coal mining, and like slavery -- but then I wonder...have we? In some ways, many workers are still in some situation or other that amounts to little more than indentured servitude. We work to pay the mortgage(s), or our car loan(s), or our student loan(s), or our credit card(s), etc.
Iron shackles and black lung disease have been replaced by consumer debt and anxiety disorders. To quote Arthur Miller: "Attention must be paid."
What's a worker to do? Most of the time, it isn't feasible, desirable, or advisable to just walk away from these obligations, because, among other reasons, they'll eventually catch back up with us. Sometimes, though, simply walking away is essential. I can't tell you what's best for you. What I can say, though, is that our task is to find real hope, and real satisfaction in our occupational lives. That's a big job in itself, to be sure, and will look vastly different for each person.
For me, I'm finding that the act of pursuing something I truly love -- writing and developing this blog, among other things -- provides me the fulfillment I currently lack in a 9-to-5 job. I hope and trust, even, that I will eventually find my way to paid work that is enriching and sufficiently lucrative. In the meantime, I thrive on the love of what I am doing with this and other writing projects; on the trust that I will continue to give myself the -- what? -- half-hour a day I need to work on these passions; and on the very real hope that it will lead me somewhere interesting.
I urge you to give yourself a little time each day to practice your interests. A word of advice: pay no mind to the outcome for now. Just let yourself do what you enjoy. You'll be surprised what it unlocks within yourself, and you'll be surprised where it leads you.
Thanks.
PS -- On the sidebar of this blog on the right-hand side is a list of websites I like. Check out James Altucher's work. He has written at length about jobs and careers, has a lot of great things to say, and has helped me tremendously.
Aside from the many hours we spend on the job, we also need to account for the time we spend getting ready for the day, traveling to the office, traveling home from the office, and transitioning back into what remains of the rest of the day or evening. That time adds up quickly, especially when you consider that, for many people, that process repeats itself almost ceaselessly until retirement. So it can be said, then, that work costs us our time. Work also costs us money; we dedicate considerable financial resources to work. For example, we spend money on commuting, on our wardrobe, and on feeding ourselves during the work day.
The biggest potential cost of work, though, is on our mind, heart, and spirit.
Whether we like what we do for work or not, we've all had "one of those days." Sometimes, for some people, "one of those days" turns into "one of those" weeks, months, years, and even careers, unfortunately. And it doesn't even have to be so drastic and acute, you know? Dissatisfaction, boredom, and aimlessness in one's work can sneak up on a person, insidiously, until they find themselves thoroughly exhausted by life, and dreading "just another damn day at the office." Viewed in that light, the sardonic worker-bee refrain, "another day, another dollar: and not a penny more" is grim indeed.
I've been there, to be sure -- on the aforementioned journey of acute occupational dissatisfaction, that is. I was miserable with my work; and not so much because of the nature of the work in question, but rather because of the fact that I didn't at that time have an identifiable aim for my professional life. I perceived what I was doing to be nothing more than a means to some meaningless end, and utterly devoid, furthermore, of relevance and importance to my life's mission. It made no sense to me, given the arc of my life, and I dreaded waking up for work in the morning as a result. If that sounds dramatic, that's because it was dramatic.
So, what got me through? For that matter, what gets anyone through occupational despair? I guess I can't definitively answer for everyone, because, well, I'm not everyone. But I suspect that some folks are highly adept at compartmentalizing their lives; i.e., they're able to keep their dissatisfaction with work at work, and go on with the business of enjoying the rest of their lives. If that resonates with you, please know that I'm insanely jealous of, and happy for, you. :) For others, though, and for myself, certainly, a four-letter H-word is the key: hope. I'm not talking about pie-in-the-sky hope, mind you; I'm talking about real hope.
Have you ever wondered why and how such terrible things in our history as, for example, slavery and coal mining gave rise to such rich, amazing, and influential music? To my way of thinking, slaves and miners were horribly oppressed by the nature of their work, and they needed to be lifted up. Moreover, I think their needs for happiness and fulfillment simply refused to die: they fought their ways to the surface, and they emerged in brilliant melody and time signature. The music which these groups of people made, then, was the manifestation and reminder of the spirit -- of the life -- which continued to dwell within them, despite their troubles. And so it goes with all of us, my friends -- that spirit, and that urge to thrive, dwells within us all.
I'm reminded of a Grateful Dead song, called "Cumberland Blues," that nearly always brings me to tears when I hear it. Here some of the lyrics:
Lotta poor man make a five-dollar bill
Keeps him happy all the time
Some other fella's makin' nothin' at all
And you can hear him cry:
"Can I go, buddy? Can I go down?
Take your shift at the mine?"
Gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine (gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine)
That's where I mainly spend my time
Make good money, five dollars a day
Made any more I might move away
Lotta poor man got the Cumberland blues
He can't win for losin'
Lotta poor man got to walk the line
Just to pay his union dues
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again
(Click here to listen to the song on YouTube)
The rest of the song's lyrics help flesh it out; but to me, it's a workingman's song of desperation, and it's heartbreaking. It's a testament to the bad old days, when coal mining was a much more prevalent occupation than it is now, and even more dangerous. A piece of me wants to give thanks that we've evolved beyond work conditions like coal mining, and like slavery -- but then I wonder...have we? In some ways, many workers are still in some situation or other that amounts to little more than indentured servitude. We work to pay the mortgage(s), or our car loan(s), or our student loan(s), or our credit card(s), etc.
Iron shackles and black lung disease have been replaced by consumer debt and anxiety disorders. To quote Arthur Miller: "Attention must be paid."
What's a worker to do? Most of the time, it isn't feasible, desirable, or advisable to just walk away from these obligations, because, among other reasons, they'll eventually catch back up with us. Sometimes, though, simply walking away is essential. I can't tell you what's best for you. What I can say, though, is that our task is to find real hope, and real satisfaction in our occupational lives. That's a big job in itself, to be sure, and will look vastly different for each person.
For me, I'm finding that the act of pursuing something I truly love -- writing and developing this blog, among other things -- provides me the fulfillment I currently lack in a 9-to-5 job. I hope and trust, even, that I will eventually find my way to paid work that is enriching and sufficiently lucrative. In the meantime, I thrive on the love of what I am doing with this and other writing projects; on the trust that I will continue to give myself the -- what? -- half-hour a day I need to work on these passions; and on the very real hope that it will lead me somewhere interesting.
I urge you to give yourself a little time each day to practice your interests. A word of advice: pay no mind to the outcome for now. Just let yourself do what you enjoy. You'll be surprised what it unlocks within yourself, and you'll be surprised where it leads you.
Thanks.
PS -- On the sidebar of this blog on the right-hand side is a list of websites I like. Check out James Altucher's work. He has written at length about jobs and careers, has a lot of great things to say, and has helped me tremendously.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Being bad at stuff
I've been practicing being really bad at stuff lately -- not all stuff, mind you, but some stuff. What stuff? Stuff that I used to invent arbitrary measures of success for, most of which were trivial, insignificant, and/or weird; and stuff that I used to berate myself for not being perfect at, when I actually-really-truly didn't give a shit about the stuff in question to begin with! There are some things, even lots of things, that we all need to give fewer shits about.
You'll notice on my Twitter profile, here, that I declare something about taking myself too seriously, which is entirely true. I've written about that on this blog, in fact. Anyway, I get really anal about my communication sometimes, to a ridiculous extent. More often than not, it just gets in the way of me being who I am, because neurotic self-editing tends to do that, you know? So I've been practicing letting myself be a crappy conversationalist with strangers. That's not to say I'm being a prick to anyone -- no. But whereas I used to secretly assume such a ridiculous burden of responsibility in most conversations, I'm letting myself just kind of not really care how it goes; i.e., I have either no or low expectations of myself and the conversation's outcome.
Honestly, it's been really fun. Because who cares if I say something the other person doesn't understand? Not my responsibility. Who cares if my syntax isn't great? I'm just letting myself be me for a change, and it's like a weight is gone.
Maybe take a minute today and think about some of the unreasonable expectations you have of yourself. And then maybe go ahead and let yourself be bad at it. "Let yourself suck," I like to say. Give fewer shits. It's kind of liberating, it really is.
You'll notice on my Twitter profile, here, that I declare something about taking myself too seriously, which is entirely true. I've written about that on this blog, in fact. Anyway, I get really anal about my communication sometimes, to a ridiculous extent. More often than not, it just gets in the way of me being who I am, because neurotic self-editing tends to do that, you know? So I've been practicing letting myself be a crappy conversationalist with strangers. That's not to say I'm being a prick to anyone -- no. But whereas I used to secretly assume such a ridiculous burden of responsibility in most conversations, I'm letting myself just kind of not really care how it goes; i.e., I have either no or low expectations of myself and the conversation's outcome.
Honestly, it's been really fun. Because who cares if I say something the other person doesn't understand? Not my responsibility. Who cares if my syntax isn't great? I'm just letting myself be me for a change, and it's like a weight is gone.
Maybe take a minute today and think about some of the unreasonable expectations you have of yourself. And then maybe go ahead and let yourself be bad at it. "Let yourself suck," I like to say. Give fewer shits. It's kind of liberating, it really is.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Reframing for Opportunity and Productivity
We all have problems. Some problems are easy to handle: we manage them without distress and move on. Other problems, though, are more difficult. They play on our fears, and they elicit powerful thoughts, impulses, and feelings. The resulting psychological discomfort may tempt us into groping after quick-fix avoidant behaviors which, after all, don't actually help -- and may exacerbate -- the problem. It happens to all of us. As I recently said, none of us is invulnerable in this life. We all have buttons that can be pushed, and life sure as hell pushes them sometimes.
The problem, as I see it, is when we get bogged down and knocked off track by our problems, and especially when we allow our problems to consume us. When things go wrong that really bother us, it's all-too-easy to fall into a pessimistic, angry, and/or victim mentality. The issue with such a mentality, aside from the fact that it exacerbates our suffering, is that it can limit or block altogether our ability to adjust, connect with our goals, and move on.
Pessimism, negativity, anger, and feeling like a victim are normal human experiences, but they are, nevertheless, subjective experiences. Persistent patterns of beliefs in those regards are products of what we call concrete thinking, and its limiting potential is endless -- not a good thing for the intrepid life journeyer. (For illustration, think about the most pessimistic person you know, and recall a conversation with them. If you think about the things they tend to say, you'll probably notice the utter conviction of their views; that is, they firmly, steadfastly believe that their worldview is the way it is, period.) Since persistent negativity is such a powerful experience, though, and since most of us don't necessarily intuitively question our beliefs, it's very tempting to automatically believe and identify with these negative views.
When this happens, and when we are stuck in this type of persistent pattern of thought, we have to recalibrate our thinking in order to truly move on. Fortunately, there's a simple technique -- a simple question -- we can use to help us achieve this aim, and all it requires is a little willpower. Why willpower? Because we will probably discover that negativity has its own allure, and doesn't relinquish control easily. The negativity I'm talking about, after all, is a defense mechanism, and is designed, strange though it may sound, to provide comfort against the pain of disappointment, feeling powerless, and fear. It's kind of like "The Force" in Star Wars: there's a light side and a dark side; the dark side is very powerful and, therefore, tempting -- but it only leads to decay, corruption, slavery, and death. Who needs that? I sure as hell don't. So if we find ourselves succumbing to the gravity of negative thinking, we have to choose something different, and work to make that something different happen.
I digress. The question-thought-technique is simple, and it goes something like this: "Ok, Self, you're miserable. This, this, this, and this are going badly, and everything sucks -- we've established that, right? Right. Ok, let me think...if all this stuff equals misery, and misery equals pain and suffering, then I don't want that, right? Right. So if that's what I don't want...(wait for it)...then what do I want?"
That's it! That's all there is to it! You have to force yourself into thinking about what you want, instead of ruminating perpetually about things you obviously don't. Thinking about what you want unlocks, and allows you to explore, the positive world within yourself, which is where all the good stuff that propels a person in life comes from: hopes, dreams, aspirations, motivation, clarity, passion, and resolve. And the really good news is this: Negative thinking tends to perpetuate more negative thinking, much like a trap, or a downward, never-ending spiral. Positive thinking works on the same self-perpetuating principle, except its results are freedom, joy, and achievement.
Do it up! :)
The problem, as I see it, is when we get bogged down and knocked off track by our problems, and especially when we allow our problems to consume us. When things go wrong that really bother us, it's all-too-easy to fall into a pessimistic, angry, and/or victim mentality. The issue with such a mentality, aside from the fact that it exacerbates our suffering, is that it can limit or block altogether our ability to adjust, connect with our goals, and move on.
Pessimism, negativity, anger, and feeling like a victim are normal human experiences, but they are, nevertheless, subjective experiences. Persistent patterns of beliefs in those regards are products of what we call concrete thinking, and its limiting potential is endless -- not a good thing for the intrepid life journeyer. (For illustration, think about the most pessimistic person you know, and recall a conversation with them. If you think about the things they tend to say, you'll probably notice the utter conviction of their views; that is, they firmly, steadfastly believe that their worldview is the way it is, period.) Since persistent negativity is such a powerful experience, though, and since most of us don't necessarily intuitively question our beliefs, it's very tempting to automatically believe and identify with these negative views.
When this happens, and when we are stuck in this type of persistent pattern of thought, we have to recalibrate our thinking in order to truly move on. Fortunately, there's a simple technique -- a simple question -- we can use to help us achieve this aim, and all it requires is a little willpower. Why willpower? Because we will probably discover that negativity has its own allure, and doesn't relinquish control easily. The negativity I'm talking about, after all, is a defense mechanism, and is designed, strange though it may sound, to provide comfort against the pain of disappointment, feeling powerless, and fear. It's kind of like "The Force" in Star Wars: there's a light side and a dark side; the dark side is very powerful and, therefore, tempting -- but it only leads to decay, corruption, slavery, and death. Who needs that? I sure as hell don't. So if we find ourselves succumbing to the gravity of negative thinking, we have to choose something different, and work to make that something different happen.
I digress. The question-thought-technique is simple, and it goes something like this: "Ok, Self, you're miserable. This, this, this, and this are going badly, and everything sucks -- we've established that, right? Right. Ok, let me think...if all this stuff equals misery, and misery equals pain and suffering, then I don't want that, right? Right. So if that's what I don't want...(wait for it)...then what do I want?"
That's it! That's all there is to it! You have to force yourself into thinking about what you want, instead of ruminating perpetually about things you obviously don't. Thinking about what you want unlocks, and allows you to explore, the positive world within yourself, which is where all the good stuff that propels a person in life comes from: hopes, dreams, aspirations, motivation, clarity, passion, and resolve. And the really good news is this: Negative thinking tends to perpetuate more negative thinking, much like a trap, or a downward, never-ending spiral. Positive thinking works on the same self-perpetuating principle, except its results are freedom, joy, and achievement.
Do it up! :)
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Thought Experiments and Fear
Greetings on this fine Tuesday! I have a thought experiment to share with you, but first I want to indulge a few, well, thoughts on thought experiments.
Thought experiments can be incredibly useful, I think. Our lives and our mind-chatter can be so frenetic at times that they obscure our ability to focus. When this happens, then, and we find ourselves frustrated by the proverbial clutter, it can be helpful to impose certain parameters on our thinking. Now, I like to think about this in terms of games and music. Think about it: if games didn't have rules, there would be chaos; you wouldn't know what to do or where to go, and it would be decidedly un-fun in very short order. So if you're by yourself with a deck of cards and you don't know the rules to, say, solitaire, that deck of cards is going to be pretty useless. With music, if you don't know how to play an instrument, and you don't have an idea (intrinsic and/or studied) of how music works, then you won't be able to play it. In games and music, then, rules actually set us free by enabling us to play: when we know the rules, we don't have to think about them -- we can just play.
Good thought experiments work the same way. In a thought experiment, a hypothetical question or scenario acts the same way as do the rules of a game; i.e., just as knowledge of the rules of solitaire frees us to play it, a full consideration of the hypothetical question or scenario frees us to explore everything within its parameters.
I've found the following thought experiment to be enormously helpful with respect to, among other things, decision-making, gaining clarity, and grounding in the moment (i.e., getting out of my head). The question is, simply,
"What would you feel or think about this if all the fear associated with it were gone?"
It was a jackpot question for me at the time, it really was. When I asked myself that question, I was trying to make a decision about something important. I had made my lists of pros and cons; I had assessed the likely outcomes of my options; I had talked it out with other people; and I had done everything I could imagine to help myself arrive at a sound, decision-making platform -- but I remained very unclear about it. I soon realized that most of my confusion was borne out of fear -- not all of which, I should note, was irrational fear. I knew that there could be unpleasant consequences as the result of making a particular decision. But as soon as I asked myself that question up there, the answer instantly appeared. I made my decision accordingly, and I'm happy with it.
Fear remains, but that's ok. I'll always have fear about something or other, as will we all. We wouldn't be human if we weren't afraid of things. Sometimes it's ok to honor our fear and let it guide our decisions; but sometimes fear makes things seem a lot worse than they are. Sometimes fear just works to strip us of our clarity and confidence, and of our ability to listen to ourselves. A good thought-experiment can be the perfect antidote. Give it a go!
Thought experiments can be incredibly useful, I think. Our lives and our mind-chatter can be so frenetic at times that they obscure our ability to focus. When this happens, then, and we find ourselves frustrated by the proverbial clutter, it can be helpful to impose certain parameters on our thinking. Now, I like to think about this in terms of games and music. Think about it: if games didn't have rules, there would be chaos; you wouldn't know what to do or where to go, and it would be decidedly un-fun in very short order. So if you're by yourself with a deck of cards and you don't know the rules to, say, solitaire, that deck of cards is going to be pretty useless. With music, if you don't know how to play an instrument, and you don't have an idea (intrinsic and/or studied) of how music works, then you won't be able to play it. In games and music, then, rules actually set us free by enabling us to play: when we know the rules, we don't have to think about them -- we can just play.
Good thought experiments work the same way. In a thought experiment, a hypothetical question or scenario acts the same way as do the rules of a game; i.e., just as knowledge of the rules of solitaire frees us to play it, a full consideration of the hypothetical question or scenario frees us to explore everything within its parameters.
I've found the following thought experiment to be enormously helpful with respect to, among other things, decision-making, gaining clarity, and grounding in the moment (i.e., getting out of my head). The question is, simply,
"What would you feel or think about this if all the fear associated with it were gone?"
It was a jackpot question for me at the time, it really was. When I asked myself that question, I was trying to make a decision about something important. I had made my lists of pros and cons; I had assessed the likely outcomes of my options; I had talked it out with other people; and I had done everything I could imagine to help myself arrive at a sound, decision-making platform -- but I remained very unclear about it. I soon realized that most of my confusion was borne out of fear -- not all of which, I should note, was irrational fear. I knew that there could be unpleasant consequences as the result of making a particular decision. But as soon as I asked myself that question up there, the answer instantly appeared. I made my decision accordingly, and I'm happy with it.
Fear remains, but that's ok. I'll always have fear about something or other, as will we all. We wouldn't be human if we weren't afraid of things. Sometimes it's ok to honor our fear and let it guide our decisions; but sometimes fear makes things seem a lot worse than they are. Sometimes fear just works to strip us of our clarity and confidence, and of our ability to listen to ourselves. A good thought-experiment can be the perfect antidote. Give it a go!
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Tools
There isn't always a clear explanation for mental health issues, you know? Sometimes they seem to just happen, without warning, like an earthquake or a flash flood. A lot of mental health work / wellness practice / proactive healthcare, then, concerns the matter of learning how to recognize these happenings, and to better-manage them if and when they occur.
If you haven't already, you'll probably hear the "tools" metaphor as you explore the world of mental health further; i.e., mental health work is akin to the process of expanding one's collection of tools. After all, as one acquires and gains mastery of a variety of tools, one's ability to fix, build, and demolish things concurrently increases. Generally speaking, then, a person is better-equipped to handle their relationship with themselves, and the world at large, if they have a wealth of inner resources.
Remember, though, that even expert repairmen occasionally encounter a job that's really difficult. World-class athletes train exhaustively, but sometimes, despite their efforts, they tear a hamstring or pull a muscle.
None of us is invulnerable in this life. We control very little of our worlds, and of ourselves, even. Sometimes, yes, shit happens. Sometimes there's a panic attack out of the blue, or inexplicable despair strikes, or an old, long-forgotten hurt arises to torture us, or we get fired, or someone we love dies, or we find that we're "sweating the small stuff," etc. We humans are too complicated and too fragile to not be knocked on our ass by life from time to time -- maybe even for a string of time.
The tools and inner resources which we cultivate, then, while not rendering us impervious, can help us through even the worst times. You know, even the most well-built machine needs repairing on occasion. Sometimes a house gets ruined by a flood and needs to be rebuilt. In either case, it's helpful to know how to use tools, because that way, the machine can be fixed, and the house can be rebuilt. Less tangible tools -- our inner resources, if you will -- can work to our advantage in the same way: they can help us get back up, regain perspective, learn, and keep moving forward.
If you haven't already, you'll probably hear the "tools" metaphor as you explore the world of mental health further; i.e., mental health work is akin to the process of expanding one's collection of tools. After all, as one acquires and gains mastery of a variety of tools, one's ability to fix, build, and demolish things concurrently increases. Generally speaking, then, a person is better-equipped to handle their relationship with themselves, and the world at large, if they have a wealth of inner resources.
Remember, though, that even expert repairmen occasionally encounter a job that's really difficult. World-class athletes train exhaustively, but sometimes, despite their efforts, they tear a hamstring or pull a muscle.
None of us is invulnerable in this life. We control very little of our worlds, and of ourselves, even. Sometimes, yes, shit happens. Sometimes there's a panic attack out of the blue, or inexplicable despair strikes, or an old, long-forgotten hurt arises to torture us, or we get fired, or someone we love dies, or we find that we're "sweating the small stuff," etc. We humans are too complicated and too fragile to not be knocked on our ass by life from time to time -- maybe even for a string of time.
The tools and inner resources which we cultivate, then, while not rendering us impervious, can help us through even the worst times. You know, even the most well-built machine needs repairing on occasion. Sometimes a house gets ruined by a flood and needs to be rebuilt. In either case, it's helpful to know how to use tools, because that way, the machine can be fixed, and the house can be rebuilt. Less tangible tools -- our inner resources, if you will -- can work to our advantage in the same way: they can help us get back up, regain perspective, learn, and keep moving forward.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Taboo!
It occurs to me, as it has before, that the phrase "mental health" packs a hell of a wallop. It's taboo. People don't want to talk about it. Like most things taboo, the reality of mental health is surrounded by what essentially amounts to a moat -- a moat which teems with the gnarly-toothed crocodiles of stigma, misconception, shame, fear, and sarcasm.
Most people, when confronted with taboos, metaphorically turn on their heel and run away -- it's easier that way, and safer: after all, if a thing is surrounded by a moat, it must be dangerous, right? So it's better for everyone if we just leave it alone.
Admittedly, there is a thread of defensible logic to that line of thinking regarding taboo subjects like mental health. Sometimes an individual, or even the collective We, can get away with leaving well enough alone; and when the inevitable, if rare, moat crossing occurs, we can conveniently treat it with an authentic, if slightly contrived, shock and horror.
However, the fact of the matter is that we are fascinated by the deep, dark corners of this human experience of ours. We are captivated by taboos. The movies and television shows we watch, the news stories that get all the press, the jokes we tell, the games we play, and the secrets we keep tend to contain material and experiences which are somehow reprehensible, unacceptable, abnormal, and grotesque -- and we secretly devour it with relish and indulgence. Industries thrive on it; we can't tear away from it.
That, to me, is what's truly grotesque: that we can make a mockery or entertainment out of something without having the courage to have an actual conversation about it.
I am here to tell you now that we all, each of us, contain that which is dark, nasty, ugly, grotesque, and taboo. Thankfully, we don't necessarily make even a fraction of it manifest in our behavior, but it's there nevertheless; and it is an important aspect of our humanity. To deny it is folly, for it is indelibly there, whether we want to admit it or not, and it is impossible to bury or deny aspects of ourselves without suffering some sort of consequence.
*******************************************************************************
Ahh, "mental health"...I wish I had a different phrase for it! It carries such stigma. When I was growing up, I equated mental health and mental illness with people in padded rooms. Anyone with mental health problems, in my view, was utterly crazy, always, and incapacitated with their inexplicable, terrifying weirdness. That may seem naive -- and it is -- but I suspect there are many, many people out there whose own views about mental health and mental illness are not too far off that mark. What a shame. What an unnecessary, inaccurate, and destructive shame.
The truth is that mental health is almost exactly like physical health, in that it evolves, stabilizes, and periodically destabilizes throughout a person's life. By way of an example, a person who lives to a ripe old age has probably enjoyed a relatively healthy life, which has been free, perhaps, from chronic, severe health issues. That same person, however, may have endured a few dozen illnesses throughout their life, ranging from the common cold to bronchitis to the stomach flu to appendicitis. Likewise, a person who has remained "mentally healthy" throughout their life can probably identify instances in which they were intrusively pessimistic, angry, fearful, harried, distracted, sad, "out of control," etc. Some of these instances would certainly be circumstantial, but I'd be willing to bet that at least some of them would be rather difficult to explain.
Let me say this: if you have ever had an unusual emotional experience which has affected your actions, perceptions, and/or interactions with others, then you have experienced a mental health problem -- maybe even (gasp!) a mental illness. It doesn't mean you should have been wrapped up in a straight jacket, or that you should have been committed. It simply means you're human -- and human beings have mental health to contend with. If you can understand that, then you can understand where I'm coming from. There is no intrinsic shame in having a mental health issue; instead, it's one of those things that, well, just is. I urge everyone to consider the universality of mental health. If we can strip away the shame, stigma, and taboo, then we can free ourselves -- individually and collectively -- to offer real assistance to those in need. Chances are good, after all, that we, ourselves, will need that assistance at some point.
Most people, when confronted with taboos, metaphorically turn on their heel and run away -- it's easier that way, and safer: after all, if a thing is surrounded by a moat, it must be dangerous, right? So it's better for everyone if we just leave it alone.
Admittedly, there is a thread of defensible logic to that line of thinking regarding taboo subjects like mental health. Sometimes an individual, or even the collective We, can get away with leaving well enough alone; and when the inevitable, if rare, moat crossing occurs, we can conveniently treat it with an authentic, if slightly contrived, shock and horror.
However, the fact of the matter is that we are fascinated by the deep, dark corners of this human experience of ours. We are captivated by taboos. The movies and television shows we watch, the news stories that get all the press, the jokes we tell, the games we play, and the secrets we keep tend to contain material and experiences which are somehow reprehensible, unacceptable, abnormal, and grotesque -- and we secretly devour it with relish and indulgence. Industries thrive on it; we can't tear away from it.
That, to me, is what's truly grotesque: that we can make a mockery or entertainment out of something without having the courage to have an actual conversation about it.
I am here to tell you now that we all, each of us, contain that which is dark, nasty, ugly, grotesque, and taboo. Thankfully, we don't necessarily make even a fraction of it manifest in our behavior, but it's there nevertheless; and it is an important aspect of our humanity. To deny it is folly, for it is indelibly there, whether we want to admit it or not, and it is impossible to bury or deny aspects of ourselves without suffering some sort of consequence.
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Ahh, "mental health"...I wish I had a different phrase for it! It carries such stigma. When I was growing up, I equated mental health and mental illness with people in padded rooms. Anyone with mental health problems, in my view, was utterly crazy, always, and incapacitated with their inexplicable, terrifying weirdness. That may seem naive -- and it is -- but I suspect there are many, many people out there whose own views about mental health and mental illness are not too far off that mark. What a shame. What an unnecessary, inaccurate, and destructive shame.
The truth is that mental health is almost exactly like physical health, in that it evolves, stabilizes, and periodically destabilizes throughout a person's life. By way of an example, a person who lives to a ripe old age has probably enjoyed a relatively healthy life, which has been free, perhaps, from chronic, severe health issues. That same person, however, may have endured a few dozen illnesses throughout their life, ranging from the common cold to bronchitis to the stomach flu to appendicitis. Likewise, a person who has remained "mentally healthy" throughout their life can probably identify instances in which they were intrusively pessimistic, angry, fearful, harried, distracted, sad, "out of control," etc. Some of these instances would certainly be circumstantial, but I'd be willing to bet that at least some of them would be rather difficult to explain.
Let me say this: if you have ever had an unusual emotional experience which has affected your actions, perceptions, and/or interactions with others, then you have experienced a mental health problem -- maybe even (gasp!) a mental illness. It doesn't mean you should have been wrapped up in a straight jacket, or that you should have been committed. It simply means you're human -- and human beings have mental health to contend with. If you can understand that, then you can understand where I'm coming from. There is no intrinsic shame in having a mental health issue; instead, it's one of those things that, well, just is. I urge everyone to consider the universality of mental health. If we can strip away the shame, stigma, and taboo, then we can free ourselves -- individually and collectively -- to offer real assistance to those in need. Chances are good, after all, that we, ourselves, will need that assistance at some point.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Vlog #2 -- Mental Health & Personal Finance
Here's the link to vlog #2: Mental Health & Personal Finance. This is a particular passion of mine, and it's difficult for me to adequately address all aspects of this in a 6 minute video. If the linkages and details seem a little hazy, let me know and I'll redouble my efforts. In the meantime, though, thanks for viewing.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Short Article Link
The article linked to below is a good (and quick) read by Leonard Citron, M.A., and published on The Albert Ellis Institute's blog. It addresses perfection, fallout therefrom, and utilizes a nice little baseball analogy, for which I am an unabashed sucker.
Enjoy!
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