Just Because

When we get curious about our minds,  we sway back and forth between philosopy and technique, mind and body, validation and exploration, and in doing so, we uncover many personal truths and insights that help us move forward to the better place we are seeking. In my chair, I listen well and deeply to the pain, the thoughts, the confusion of mind and heart.  I listen to human experiences -  universal, yet unique too.  And somehow, usually,  healing flows, through all the doubts and through life being life and thoughts and feelings being what they humanly are.  And mostly in the not-alone-ness of the process we start to find ourselves, and find clarity.  And so when I came across this poem, by Phil Maher I was reminded once again of the power of thought, of how we often believe our innocent human minds in any give moment and  that what flows from there, depending on how we tend to it, can pull us down, or lift us gently above the turbulence, without ever having to do a thing.  Just because being open can point us there.


Just Because

Just because I know something
Doesn't mean I have to say it
Just because I'm right 
Doesn't mean I need to show you that you are wrong.

Just because I know a negative truth about someone
Doesn't mean I don't have to be kind to them
Just because I'm attracted to someone
Doesn't mean they are going to like me

Just because I believe something strongly
Doesn't mean I have to make others believe too
Just because I see a lot of evil in the world
Doesn't mean there isn't a lot of good too

Just because I can't see God's plan
Doesn't mean He doesn't have one
Just because I'm tired of waiting, that it's taking too much time, or won't happen
Doesn't mean I'm supposed to do something to make it happen.

Just because I'm strong or good at something
Doesn't mean I can take advantage of others.

Just because I think something is true
Doesn't mean it is true.                             

-Phil Maher (February 2016)

Perception

I recently heard the following story:

A teacher walks into his classroom of third graders - just a bit late.  Five to ten minutes or so.  He is in a bit of a mood, feeling annoyed with himself that he is late, and in a hurry to get the class going. As he is walking in, one of his students, a little boy, is holding his left arm straight up, fist clenched.  With his right pointer finger on his right hand, he is pointing to his wristwatch and staring straight at the teacher.

Fuming, the teacher goes to the front of the classroom.  Steam coming out of his ears.  He is not interested in rebuke from this kid; he is not interested in having his lateness pointed out.  He is going to pull this kid out, he thinks.  He is going to yank him out of the class room, let him know who should be reprimanding who, give him a good loud message that everyone can hear and then send him to the Principal's office.  He will not be putting up with this kind of blatant disrespect from a student.  Things today have gone too far.  Way too far.

He then remembers his own private rule.  A rule that he has promised himself he will abide by.  No matter what.  He will wait.  He will wait 30 minutes no matter what, in any given situation short of a fire, to speak.  He will not react or respond to anything or anyone with words or actions for 30 minutes, no matter what.

He opens his lesson book, forces himself to ignore the child, and tells everyone to get out their math books.  He teaches the lesson.  He gives the kids a short break and he turns his attention to the boy with the watch, who is now running up to his desk.  Before he can get a word out, the boy says with utter sincerity and a shinning face:  "Look, Mr. Adams, my father got me a new watch for my birthday!  I couldn't wait to show it to you!"

I think that we have just got to work with our minds.  We have got to pay attention to our thoughts, our perceptions.  We just really don't know sometimes, what is really going on.  Even when we are calm, even when we are sure.  It's not that we cannot trust ourselves.  It's that we have to know ourselves.  We have to be willing to wait.  To consider the power of thought, of perception, of speech, and of our actions.  So much of our suffering is based on perception.  So much can be reworked.  Yes, we need to honor all of our thoughts and feelings, to use them as guideposts to our needs, our desires and  to propel us forward.  But if we don't slow down and sort out some of that thinking, if we get too wrapped up in what we think we know, in our thinking, we may be missing out on a whole new world both inside and out.

Monster Bash

I know there is a great and worthy debate about the various ways to deal with anxiety and treat anxiety disorders - from mindfulness to prayer, spiritual fitness to embracing the rage,  from CBT to ACT, from unpacking unconscious repetitions, analyzing the sources and then, some gentle but worthy combination of all of the above.  So many good ways to work with our human mind and heart.

Do we feel our feelings and use them guideposts? Do we push them away? When do we act on them and when do we sit still and wait?

So here's another combo, in some way of all of the above.  And by no means do I think this is easy or fast, but I do think it's useful.  It plugs into the possibilities and ways that we help ourselves live life and feel life and more forward:  Telling the monster to sit down and be quiet.  Here's what I mean:

For most folks who have some kind of recurring anxiety or continuous anxiety, whether it seems to be situational or external (a kid acting out, job stress, money issues, relationship issues), or whether it seems to be more internal (having the idea that worry keeps us safe, or that if we don't worry we will get blindsided, or that we have to worry over it to figure it out, being overly concerned about what people think of us), there are usually recurring underlying story lines.

There is a strong case to made for analyzing the story lines.  Studying the different fears and the different thoughts underneath the different feelings.  And almost always, it's the quiet chaser thoughts that are ruling the day and have us by the throat.  It's not that we think "I am so overwhelmed."  It's that underneath that we think "I cannot handle the overwhelm.  I cannot stand it.  I'm doomed no matter what."  And it's not that we think "I screwed this up." It's the quiet whisper of  "I am terrible. I am worthless. I am worse than everyone else. I am not okay.  I am not safe.  I cannot have what I need and I never will.   Things will never get better or be okay."

And it's not that we ask ourselves "How will this ever get better?" It's how we ask it, and with what tone: curiosity or animosity?  And  that we hear underneath "It will never get better.  I am a bad mother/father/spouse/person. It is terrible to make mistakes.  Forget it, you're hopeless. You're awful.  Things are awful and you will lose everything.  You cannot stand this."

There are themes, though, that we can identify.  And after we get to know our themes, and after we've done our inner research and we have answered those deep whispers, in addition to continuing to answer them, we can also see them as one of my young clients does:  as monsters.  Funny looking, over sized grouchy monsters.  And we can feel them coming.  We know the feelings they bring.  We know the theme thoughts they bring.

And we can tell them to go sit in the gallery.  Go sit down because we know what you have to say, and we know what feelings you bring and we know that going along with you only is a repeat of the same old same old and never takes me anywhere but down.  So go sit down in the bleachers with the other monsters and be quiet."

Here are examples of "monsters":

Triggers: Hard day at work, disagreement with spouse, lots of housework to do, kid getting in trouble, unexpected expense, someone saying something mean  , difficult conversation with a parent. (add your own recurring themed ones!)
Feeling lead: Dread, panic, frustration, doom, shame, guilt, resentment
Thoughts (see above)

So sometimes we need more exploration and answering the quieter thoughts and feelings, and sometimes if we see the same triggers over and over again, and we've been through all the real and deeper answers to the deepest whispers, its time to say to the monster, "Yes, I see you.  I feel you coming on again.  Here you are again.  Now, sit down and be quiet, I've got a day to live."

It's not magic, but if we practice it, repeat it and move on, we often see that new feelings and thoughts and ideas present themselves and life opens up in ways that are so much better than being led around by the same ole' same ole monsters.

photo credit: Scott Patterson | Dreamstime Stock Photos

In the Now

"The time we have here is so short..." ~ an 80 year old colleague of mine who is still practicing

I recently had the good fortune to spend some time with a colleague of mine who is in well into her senior years.  She was talking about her experience over the course of her lifetime in both her private practice and in her personal life.  She is healthy, mentally and emotionally and physically, and grateful for all.  And she has, too, some regrets.  But she carries them with her in a nostalgic tone - and she tells me that even with so much emotional pain during different stages in her life that have come and gone over the years both with her clients and in her own life - that one thing that has always helped her has been to be open to being "in the now" of the good and quiet nature and  the universal pace of life.

What she meant by that is this: that even in emotional pain, in anger, anxiety, in grief, in loneliness, there are still moments in the day that are quiet, that are calm, that are accessible.  And that perhaps especially in the midst of all the feelings and all the noise in our heads when we are in all the feelings, it is so important to allow all the feelings and then too, it can be so helpful, to just turn our attention to the blue sky, to the warm sun, to the gentle breeze.  To just be in the moment, even if for a moment.  

It helps us to step out - even if just in our mind - of the circumstance, of our thinking and step into the other part of the story, into the part of life that is just the movement of the day, the nature of life, the gratitude of having air to breathe, clean drinking water, eyes that can read.  And to tap into the knowledge that we can make our human efforts to continuously work on and know ourselves, to deepen our consciousness and work better with difficult people and difficult situations but too that being in the now is where we are supposed to be, even when things are confusing, or they hurt.  Things pass; they shift.  And when we have the idea that we do not always have to be in our thinking or in our feelings, we can get in touch with a quieter, instinctively healthy and calmer voice, a peaceful self and some much needed reprieve and relief.

When we are in pain emotionally time can seem to go so slow.  We wait and wait for it to pass, for something new to present itself, for the feelings to lift.  And they do, usually, if we let them come and go and if we have the idea that we can't hurry things or push them along, but we can be in the now, and in the "other" now, of the universal nature of living life.

Breather

Sometimes doing no work at all is doing work.

In the middle of our busy lives, it can seem counter-productive to just stop and do nothing.  Many of us do not have the idea that doing nothing is actually doing something.  In fact, when I suggest just sitting around, sitting still, and really doing nothing most people tell me that they feel guilty.  That they should be doing something. The laundry, the cooking, the bills, the lawn, the closet that needs cleaned out.  Something. 

But here in the middle of a summer's week, especially, I think, its a good time to just practice doing nothing.  Just for a few minutes.  Take a quick time out and just be.  Don't meditate, or contemplate, or ruminate.  Walk away from the electronics and just sit quietly for a few minutes. 

It is actually something.  It is the practice of just being in the moment, in the day, in your self.  It is the work of slowing down, and stepping out, even if just for a moment or two from the daily rush, not just of the busy-ness of the day, but the busy-ness of your mind. 

Especially for those who are in some kind of emotional pain, have some kind of decision to make, are confused, feeling lots of feelings at once, or in rapid succession.  Just taking a breather can feel like work, it can feel like too much too do, to just sit.  But it is the work of taking good care of yourself, the work of leaving your mind alone for a minute or two and that counts.  It counts because when you pick back up again you might find that you are somewhat, slightly, subtly, just a bit more able to do what is the next on the never ending list of things to do. 

Emotional Concussions

"A concussion is a minor traumatic brain injury that may occur when the head hits an object, or a moving object strikes the head. It can affect how the brain works for a while. A concussion can lead to a bad headache, changes in alertness, or loss of consciousness." ~ Google

I've been thinking lately about how emotional pain can be like a concussion.  And there are so many moving parts in the world that bump into our heart, our ego, our sense of self.  Some of us are more easily injured than others, depending on our makeup, our history, the circumstances of our lives.  But when we get hurt emotionally it does effect our brain. It effects our functioning.  It can lead to physical pain, changes in our ability to act calmly or rationally.  We can even lose consciousness emotionally.  Sometimes that looks like depression, anger, overwhelm or feeling "out of it." 

There is wide range to what we call trauma.  There is of course, the big stuff, violence, abuse, natural disaster, tragedy.   And then there are all kinds of relational hurts that are not so obvious, but that still effect us and can effect our ability to function and certainly effect our moods and feelings.

So how do we take care of an emotional concussion?  Assess the injury - how severe is it?  (Does it need immediate professional help?)  And then: take a break, rest, know that your brain and your heart need time to heal.  Unpack what happened. Take a look at the events around the injury.  Study them a bit, over time, so that if possible the danger does not repeat itself.  Look for symptoms - see how you might have been effected.  Talk, of course, when you can, about the injury, the events that lead up to it, the aftermath.  Do soothing things that calm and relax the brain and rest the mind. 

Yes, with an emotional concussion we most likely do have to sit with the pain and feel it as part of treating it, but we don't have to do it quickly or harshly.  We can know that it's a process and that sometimes we are knocked off our normal functioning and we have to respect that and treat ourselves accordingly.  Otherwise just like with a physical concussion, if you don't heal well enough you may be more susceptible to further injury.

Scholarship for Students with Major Depressive Disorder and Doing What We Are Supposed To Do

This came across my desk, so I thought I'd it pass it along.

The Lilly Reintegration Scholarship, a program that helps those battling with severe mental illness go back to school and reintegrate into society has a scholarship that aids students living with bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, has now added Major Depressive Disorder to its list of qualifying disorders.

Since there are quite a few folks who might consider school and are coping with depression but are having difficulties with funding, this seems like a great resource.

And this too: If you don't do the things you're suppose to do, you are likely to start doing the things you are not suppose to do.

So I was thinking about how emotional pain can stop you in your tracks.  And how distracted you can get because of it, and how sometimes, at its worst, it can really get in the way of doing the daily normal routine of life, or doing the stuff that helps move us along toward better feelings and working things out, everything from taking care of our physical health to showing up for our family, friends, job, commitments.

And when we get off track, we more likely to change lanes into something less healthy, less productive, maybe dangerous even.  We do need relief after all.

Sometimes, healing the pain means sticking to right plan, even when we don't feel like it.

More Thoughts on Fear

"We do not have to get rid of anything.  No matter how troubling, frightening, or annoying the message emanating from within us, all we have to do is perceive ourselves as separate from that toxic message and disagree with it."  And even when disagreement seems too much to ask, we can still disobey.   ...    And....

...When we move toward the fear, understanding that the fear does not need to change as we are willing to change our relationship to it, we stand up for ourselves."  ~ Thom Rutledge from Embracing Fear


I couldn't choose which quote to bring you (as is often the case with me) so I am bringing you both.  Truth is, there were more than a few nuggets in Thom Rutledge's book Embracing Fear.  And since today someone said to me "I am anxious.  And I am anxious about being anxious, "  I thought it was a good time to write about fear once more. 

Since fear is often the driver, we can find so much hope in looking at our fears.  And since fear is often lurking underneath anger and hurt and frustration, we are doing ourselves a deep disservice if we don't face it.  I am not talking, of course, about rational fear - a lion in the parking lot.  I am talking about deep fear.  Fear of being alone, of not mattering, of making mistakes, of being helpless or worthless or terrible or left.  Of not being able to care for ourselves or meet our basic needs.

We all have these fears.  They are human.  They may take different shapes, speak in different voices within each of us.  When we unpack them, face them and answer them, we often find enormous relief.  Even when they are masquerading around as rational, if we shine the light on them we can talk back, plan, pray and make progress.  They do not have to control us.  Strong as they can feel, they are not facts.  And to Thom Rutledge's point, we do not have to get rid of them. Which is a relief, because even though they may go away, getting rid of them may not be possible.  What is possible though, and so full of hope is that we can get to know them and face them.  We can reduce their hold on us.

Many folks tell me that they believe that the fear is keeping them safe.  If they are afraid, they will stay vigilant.  And then nothing bad will really, actually happen.  It never ceases to impress me how much fear means to us, and how we defend it to ourselves, believing we don't really have to deal with it.  Believing we can control outcomes with it.

I am equally impressed with how quiet irrational fear can be and how we can be operating under its influence and not even know it.  I am so hopeful when I remember that the work is do-able.  When we are feeling angry, cranky, off kilter, edgy, explosive, fear is often hiding somewhere underneath, and our task is not to fight it off, but to let it breath and diminish it's power.

I've often written about the value of looking at what has shaped us, what has informed the voices that we use to talk to ourselves, and to look at what has protected us as children and whether or not that is working for us now.  Fear is part and parcel of this work, of our path toward a healthy and well core and spiritually fit inner life.  When we study our fears and respond  differently to them, we are doing that work of creating a better inner world.

Out of Power

I heard the following post Hurricane story today from a friend of mine.  He was relocating his elderly mother into a local motel after she had lost power in her home.   She could not stay with him because his house has many stairs and she is not able to manage them.   While he was helping her settle in, another elderly couple pulled up to check in.  They had their belongings in garbage bags and asked for help with their "luggage."  Being a motel, there was no help offered, so my friend took their bags (literally) and carried them to their room.  He helped them with the card key lock that has long since replaced metal keys. Since they had not stayed anywhere but their own home in many decades they were not familiar with the new door lock.

He said they were so deeply grateful for his simple good deeds, sending him looks of both gratitude and pleading.  He told them they could call him if they needed any further help and gave them his contact information.  Fortunately, their house survived the storm, but they were out of power still.  And it was getting cold, especially for them, with their frail bodies and limited mobility.

There are many stories emerging from the rubble of Hurricane Sandy. This one is not especially remarkable. Like the aftermath of many disasters, there are tales of pain and loss and sorrow and there are stories of fighting over necessities, like gas for heaters or food or safe drinking water.  And there are stories of selflessness, bravery and simple acts of kindness. 

New Jersey's governor Chris Christie said, in response to people topping off their gas tanks that you "can't legislate selfishness."  He might be right, but most likely he might have been more right to say that you can't legislate fear.  Because most likely it's fear that lurks underneath most selfishness.  Fear of not being safe, or warm, or healthy.  And fear pushes us to do things we might otherwise not be so inclined to do.  Not just during disasters, but often times during daily life and within the context of our relationships.  We often act out of fear for our emotional safety, though we are not usually aware of it on the surface. 

One of the many lessons coming out of yet another disaster is that we may be out of power literally over the environment, over other people, over our feelings and desires, but we are not always out of power about how to respond.  We can shine the flashlights on what we can do. 

The unremarkable small deeds go a long way. (Not to mention that most of us feel valued and helped when someone offers to carry our "bags" once in a while). The little things count.  They count when we do them in our relationships, when we do them for someone who needs a kind word, a smile or help carrying their bags.  Even as we study our own motives and make up, and when we are hurt, deprived or angry (and those feelings count of course) or edgy about the behavior of others, we most likely will come out much more resilient and content when we shine the light on our fears, and the fears of others and power on with compassion.

Stuck in Compulsive Worry

"There's what we do.  And then there is what we do with what we do." ~ A colleague of mine...

who has been in practice for many decades brought this idea back to me as we were discussing the nature of our work.  We were musing over such themes as mistakes, self-forgiveness, worry and sadness.  She was telling me about an awareness that she had a few years back while having lunch with her mother.  They were sitting at a very upscale Manhattan restaurant talking about the family, which her mom likes to do.   In the midst of the normal ebb and flow of the conversation her mother said easily, "Your sisters were always more accomplished than you.  I don't know why you could not be more like them."

My colleague said that at the time she just continued on with lunch and chit-chat, barely noticing the comment.  It was not until later that she sat back, quietly, in what she calls her "thinking chair" and marveled at the comment.  She, like many of us in the field of psychotherapy, had long been studying mother - daughter relationships, the deep and profound longing and linking that mothers and daughters have for each other, the spectrum of distance to connection, of approval seeking, dependence and individuating, the obvious effects that mothers and daughters have on each other, and the deep, subtle, but often powerful imprint and psychic shaping the relationship has for both, but most profoundly, a mother to a daughter.  And my colleague has spent many years studying her own relationship with her mother.

She knew that this remark was not consciously meant to hurt her.  Her mother valued law and medicine.  Her mother's own upbringing reinforced the value of these degrees as status and symbolic of success, security, safety, respect, and prestige.  So when one daughter became a doctor and one an attorney, my colleagues mother filled with pride and relief. 

What stood out to my colleague that day at lunch was this though:  Somehow in all of her own success in her own career, and her own graciousness toward her own mistakes and foibles, she still worried a lot, much of the time in fact.  And she realized in that moment that while there are many truths, many pieces to the puzzle of the human mind, psyche and feelings, that one piece for her, concerning her worrying was this message.  It was this voice that she had imbued, internalized, taken as her own that lived in her, quietly on a conscious level, but very much at work underneath the surface.

This was not a "blame your mother" moment.  Not at all.  She had long since made peace with the gifts and disappointments of her relationship with her mother.  Rather, she recognized that the worrying she did was her loyalty to that relationship.  It was a carrying on of the culture that was familiar to her.  Because underneath the feeling of worry, were thoughts and beliefs at work.  Her own mother's fear that she was not good enough, not doing enough, that there would not be enough, that things could and might at any moment go wrong.  That one should not feel secure or positive lest one be knocked off guard unprepared.  The worry, in part, was her connection to her mother, her likeness to her, complicated as that seemed at times.

Of course, there is always more to the story.  And when it comes to being stuck in compulsive worry (or sadness for that matter - more on that one day too), there are many things we can do to get relief.  There are behavior techniques, there are thought changing and meditation techniques, there is wide variety of practical things to do, and of course, talking.  But there is also the look back.  The understanding of what might be going on underneath the surface.  Sometimes along with the worry there is anger, fear, insecurity, self doubt.  And it takes a bit of talking it through and letting it out to get to a better place.  When we are stuck and the obvious is not working, or working well enough to bring relief, it helps to dig a bit deeper and stretch into understanding whose voice it really is in our head, or what combination of voices, what we may be tied to and why.  When we unpack our minds a bit, it often leads to a deeper more steady sense of self.  It makes our relationships better and helps us to move forward in ways that feel right, calm and good.

Night Panic

"If I'm feeling hysterical, its usually historical." ~ anonymous

Someone once told me that nothing good happens after 10:00 at night. Of course I know that this is not a universal truth, but for anyone who is prone to worry or panic, or sleep disturbance, late night can bring anxiety to new heights.

At night, paranoid thoughts can increase, self attack intensifies, and what may have seemed like forgivable mistakes can become relentless self doubt. A friend of mine, who has some humor about her night panic, tells me that some nights she is convinced that there are goblins in her hallway, monsters under her bed and aliens on her roof. Her boss is waiting to fire her; her doctor is waiting to give her dire news and her husband has three secret other wives.

She knows its her brain on rev, but still and all she worries. And the worry is real, and it is painful. She worries about her kids, her marriage and her financial situation. Some nights the worry turns into obsession and the obsession turns into sleeplessness, and the sleeplessness turns into more self attack.

Physical and mental exhaustion, hormones, biorhythms, brain chemistry can all contribute. So can an unresolved bad feeling in a relationship. So can the darkness itself. And one's personal history, even if the connection is not readily apparent. Somehow, late at night the mind can start conjuring up a parade of bad thoughts. An attack of "what ifs" or a barrage of "awfulizing" can take over rational thought. When the anxiety gets really bad, it can leave you longing for relief, but believing that none is really possible. If only there were an ice pack for the brain.

So what helps?

Well, I think that sufferers of night panic have a few choices, and any one or a combo can bring relief at one time or another. And first things first is being willing to believe that relief is both okay and possible. If you are stuck in the thought, however subtle, that the worry is actually keeping you safe from anything bad actually happening, you may need to address this belief first. Planning, consulting and considering can bring good results but when we are stuck in panic, obsession and rumination the pain can be intense and can block the way to solving real issues or getting relief from relentless worry.

Here are a few ideas, in no particular order, that can help with night panic:

~Listen for the thoughts under the panic. Write them down in a stream of consciousness, no holding back fashion. Look over them the next day and see which thoughts are fueling the feelings. Come up with a few good reassuring answers to the panic thoughts (even if you don't believe them 100%.)

~Come up with a few reassuring mantras to say to yourself such as "this too shall pass," "the worry is always worse than the actual event," or "even if something bad happens I can find support and get help."

~Talk back to the panic. Tell it to leave you alone, get lost, that feelings are not always facts and you will not let its panic messages ruin your night.

~Go to bed earlier. I don't mean to sound glib, but for night worriers, turning in earlier can help.

~Distract your mind. Read. Watch TV. Listen to music.

~Take a personal history. Think back to what bed time was like when you were a child. What are your memories? What were your parents doing late at night? Where were they? Did they tend toward calm or toward anxious? What feelings come up? Consider connecting the dots between your experiences now and the experiences that may have shaped you as a child.

~Make a list of everything and anything that is on your mind from things to do - to things that are worrying you. Leave nothing out. Then put the list away to review during the day.

~Make a gratitude list, a victory list, a list of things that are good and right with you, and in your world.

~Follow the feeling and see where it takes you. Don't fight it, study it. Get curious and wonder if it is new or old, familiar or strange. What or who does it remind you of? Might it have a benefit, a message, or a purpose?

~Talk, talk and talk some more. Talk about the things that may be making you feel angry, frustrated or helpless.

In the back and forth between accepting and feeling your feelings and actively using cognitive or behavioral techniques to help bring on relief, consider that there may be many good roads to relief. Often times there is meaning in our experiences, and when we are willing to tap into what that meaning is, we can end up with a richer life experience and better nights.

Thinking Like A Therapist/Analyst (Getting UnStuck)

"If you always do what you always did, you'll always get what you always got."

"Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." ~ Albert Einstein

Often people come in to therapy because they are stuck in some way. Or at least they believe they are stuck. Either in a difficult relationship, or situation. Or a job, or perhaps, (and this is often the most painful kind of stuck), in bad feelings, thoughts or beliefs and ideas that no longer serve them well. And a lot of the time, these ideas and feelings seem so automatic that they are hardly noticeable. Like lightening during the day. And when we hear the thunder, feel the fallout, from these ideas and feelings, then we know something is wrong.

So what's the fallout? Bad habits, lots of fighting with your partner, self-attack, lashing out at others, feelings of hopeless, self pity or extreme frustration, anxiety and depression. And the feeling that we are stuck.

Its no small task to change our thinking, or to even get to the root of what our thinking really is. And then, the funny thing often is, when we are able to really get to the heart of our ideas and our thoughts, we are often resistant to letting them go, to changing our minds. We are quite attached to our beliefs, even when they no longer serve us well. And even to our pain. Sometimes our misery is familiar, comforting, or seems to keep us connected to what we have lost.

So here's where thinking like a psychoanalyst or therapist can come in handy. We don't have to operate with a heavy mandate of solving anything so fast. It's lovely when good changes can come about and new solutions surface, and that usually does happen when things get talked out well. Sometimes, it does happen quickly. Either way, it happens when we can do a few things the way analysts are trained to do.

Be curious. Study the problem. Without judgement or criticism, let all ideas and beliefs and feelings flow and be talked about. Just airing them out brings relief. And studying what you really believe and why.

Next, and at the same time, and in no particular order: Wonder why you hold on to what you believe. You can ask yourself, "What is my objection to reconsidering this belief?"

Some 12 step folks suggest making a list of all your fears and then taking each one through the following question analysis: Why do I have this fear (belief). Where and when did it originate? How do I perpetuate it? What would I do differently if I did not have this fear?

Recently, someone told me, "I will not give in to my wife's crazy requests. If I do this, I will be at her mercy. And I will not sacrifice what I know is right." (His wife's requests were not dangerous to anyone). As a result, this man fights with his wife a lot. They are both frustrated, in quite a bit of emotional pain, and thinking of divorcing, even though they do love each other.

Tucked away inside this belief is lots of good info. Why does this guy belief this? What are his objections to thinking differently? What would happen if he believed that giving in to his wife was a great way to make her happy? (And so what if he still thinks she a bit nuts. He loves her). What if, in addition to letting his frustration fly (to someone besides his wife), he learned that some of his beliefs were really his fathers, or his uncles or his way of protecting himself against the way he was treated as a kid? What if he would feel better about himself, not worse, by studying his beliefs?

There are lots of possiblities and examples. And we when let them breathe, we too breathe easier. Life gets better. We can get comfortable in our own minds.

When we feel stuck in the same old thinking and the same old pain, we can find relief by stepping back and letting some fresh air in - in the form of curiosity. It's hard to do when you are suffering, but stepping out just a bit, and into curiosity can go a long way toward new and better things.

The Art of Listening (Tell an Old Story; Tell a New One)

"I'm not asking for your advice, I'm asking for your support."~ Anonymous

"If you help me, I will not come to you again." ~ Anonymous

Recently, two different people in my life said the above to me. They came to tell me a story, their story, of hurt and pain, of frustration and fear, and they wanted me to listen. They did not want me to respond, except of course, for the occasional nod or knowing empathic wince. They did not want any advice, ideas, feedback, suggestions, interpretations, analysis or direction. They did not even want to get out of the bad feelings really. They just wanted to talk. They wanted to tell their story. And they did not want to know or study anything about their story. Not where it originates from in their history. Not whether their story is really their story, or really their mother's or father's story. They did not want to know what their own part in the story was, or is, or how the things they've done to help themselves survive all these years may now be helping to stifle growth and progress. They did not want my help. Clearly. They just wanted my good ears.

I am a very cooperative sort. Usually. And of course, in my office I am used to doing a lot of listening. I do listen with more than my ears when I am working, of course. I listen with my gut, my inventory of training, and of course my heart. I listen to words. I listen to cadence. I listen to my own body. I will never forget one session, many years back, when a client was telling me a story from her childhood and suddenly my feet were very very cold. I remember wondering about it, and then asking her if there was something frightening, show stopping almost, (cold feet), about her story. What poured forth was another story then. A story about being harmed and helpless, terrified and being hesitant even, to bring the memories into the therapy room, all these years later, as an adult.

It is not always easy to listen, to just listen, or to listen well. Listeners experience all kinds of feelings. Especially if we are listening to someone we love. Or hate. Or are very angry with, afraid of, or dependant on. We are not accustomed to listening for someones fears, or for their beliefs. We are not necessarily accustomed to listening for our reactions to what we are hearing.

Of course their are the basics of good listening. Focused, intentional non verbals, eye contact, head nodding, or shaking, or tilting. Wincing, leaning forward, smiling. And the verbals: repetition of things the speaker has said (parroting: "I am upset" "You are upset"), encouragers: "hmm," "really," "yes, " "oh," "wow." (and more of course.) Benign questions, too, help people talk, and listeners listen. "What time did that happen?" "Who else was there?" "What were your thoughts?" Open ended, gentle, curious and light.

For couples, especially, it is challenging to listen to each other. To listen without wanting to help, or solve, or comment. Or refute, rebuff, remind. Ditto for parents and teens. How is it that we can stay quiet and tolerate all of our own feelings as they are bubbling up inside us?

Not everyone gives me the instructions that my two friends did. And sometimes, someone who wants to talk also really does want help. Suggestions may be okay, welcome even. As are new ideas, or comfort. Though I tend to check first, if they are wanted, before I venture out. With interpretations too, because they can be hurtful, of course, and we are not always ready to hear bits of truth about ourselves, even if it would benefit us, or our relationships. And besides, who is to say that the listener is correct, or is not filtering his or her thoughts through their own lenses of pain, or filtering things through their own story. Either way, its not easy to learn about ourselves, especially if part of our story is self attack, self loathing, or hopelessness.

How well, even, do we listen to ourselves? A friend of mine once told me that she likes to lay down sometimes, on her own couch, and just talk out loud. She asked if I thought she was a kook. Not only didn't I think so, but some schools of thought actually encourage this for healing. Talk to Gd, or to yourself, or, as one person once told me, to me, her therapist, even when I am not really there. Somehow, she felt better, just telling her story as many times as she needed to tell it.

Truth is, at some point, good listening is helpful all on its own, with no brilliant responses needed. We can start to tell new stories about ourselves once we have told the old ones well enough and to good ears. We can rewrite at least some of our old scripts and create better feelings and easier times. It is not always easy to tolerate someones pain, or what may sometimes seem to be their irrational fear or anger. Its harder still if we feel blamed, or responsible, or charged to fix things. And even more difficult if we have heard the same story too many times, for too many years, without any progress.

We may not always want to give our support, and certainly not our agreement or acceptance, if what we are hearing does not make sense or seems harmful, but much of the time, if we can manage to say little and save our story for someone else's good ears, we may doing the best service of all. Good listening is a precious gift. It conveys understanding and company, acceptance, serenity and hope. It echos of sweet mothering, of being held, tended to and acknowledged. It has the power to heal and to change lives. Its hard to accept when someone wants to, or needs to hold on to their story, or does not want to study it, or try to alter it. But all things in good time. All things at the right time. And in the meantime, if we can offer up some calm in someones storm, we may be surprised at the results. Listening benefits the listener as well. By listening well to others we can learn to listen well to and understand ourselves better, to go easier, practice grace, and pick up clues about our own stories. We can learn to tell new ones, to create new hope, resiliency and potential. And this, I confess, I find to be wonderful.

Some Thoughts on Comfort, Self Knowledge and Change (and Therapy too)

Difficult to follow a post on sex. But I am thinking about comfort. Which often times does follow sex, because good sex can be, among other things, very comforting. So maybe I am on the right track.

Lots of times we therapists and psychoanalysts spend a lot of time listening, as well we should, for patterns in peoples lives. For things that people do that repeat, unconscousiosly, situations, feelings, circumstances. When someone is stuck or suffering, we listen for things that usually don't serve them well, or well anymore. And we listen for the resistances, for those things both concrete (like a traffic jam) and emotional (like fear or love, or assumptions or ideas), and we look for actions (like coming late or talking about the weather too much) that are both communications about what someone needs and a clue to what is in the way of getting it. We study what is in the way of us learning more about who we are, and what we need and want. We stay curious about how to get it. We listen for obstacles to progress, obstacles to being able to talk more, listen more and know more. We ask, sometimes directly and sometimes indirectly to ourselves, so that we may study it, "what is in the way of you getting or having or keeping what you need/want?"

And we sometimes wonder "What would happen if you knew more about yourself? And what is blocking you from finding out? Or wanting to find out?"

The answer, in its simplest form, I think, may be fear. Fear of having to change, if we are not really ready. Fear of not being, or feeling safe. Fear of being judged, criticized, put down or minimized. Fear of being too uncomfortable. Fear that the process won't be worth it. Fear that what we might gain won't really be better than what we already have. Sometimes, underneath resistance is fear. Underneath unwillingness or hesitation is fear.

But the idea is that if we can figure out whats going on, and why, we can help folks create new paths. If they want to. If the want is just slightly bigger than the fear. We do accept the fact that we are shaped by our experiences in life, as well as our biology. And that lots of times, the road to better is not only bumpy, but its not all that compelling. Sometimes we are comfortable in our same ole same old. Its what we know. And that's fine.

The important thing, I think, in therapy and in life, when seeking to comfort, is to go gently. Sometimes it is beneficial to tell someone what we see, or what we think we see, in their communications. But while we are doing this, we also just need to listen simply. To just offer and provide comfort. And to know that providing comfort is a tricky thing as well. Especially when someone is in real emotional pain, or has suffered a trauma. (next post on trauma).

Sometimes its hard to know what exactly will be comforting to someone and how best to go about it. What is comforting to one, may not be comforting to another. But universally, I think, being understood is very comforting to most of us. That and having a very human connection. Sometimes comfort can create an intimate feeling, too intimate on occasion, so we therapists tread carefully here. But we tread.

It is comforting for some folks to learn more about their patterns and fears, how they protect themselves and from what. Sometimes, self knowledge is very comforting. And when someone has hurt us deeply, it can be comforting to understand what fears and motivations that person operates under. We may not be able to know exactly, but we might guess, if that helps us along.

A few years ago a good friend of mine suffered an emotional trauma at the hands of a business partner. David, we can call him, had come up with an idea that he thought would make a good business. He did not want to go it alone, and so took the idea to his friend Sam (not his name, of course). The two of them set off together on a path of mutual benefit. They worked side by side for many months to create and build the enterprise, investing heart, soul and money.

One day, Sam decided he wanted to go it alone, and told David that the partnership was off. David was devastated. David could not believe that Sam would do such a thing, they were close friends, partners,. But Sam was certain, and David was gone. When someone is clear, they are clear.

For many months after the split, David could not sleep. He could not eat. He was invaded by thoughts of his failed partnership, his lost friendship. He went over and over again his own mistakes, or possible contributions to the breakup. He went over the flaws in Sam's personality that made it so difficult to get along at times. And he went over the flaws in his own. But still he could find no comfort. He suffered financial loss, sure, but that was the least of it. He felt betrayed in the deepest sense of the word.

David called me one day, a few months after the split to tell me his tale. He was sullen and tearful, self depreciating and angry all at the same time. He told me his wife, my good friend, had had enough, she wanted his mood restored. She wanted him to get on with his life and create something new and good, she knew he could. And she wanted him to get my help.

We were too close for to me to work with him professionally, but comfort I could provide. That's always available. It wasn't complicated. I listened. I listened attentively and soothingly. I asked good questions about his pain, and his choices. I wondered with him how he has survived hurt and heartbreak in the past. And which feelings were the most painful (the anger and betrayal, he said. And his own possible mistakes and oversights). I asked him what he wanted to do with his pain, to hold on to it for a bit, or to let it go someday. He was not sure. We acknowledged that sometimes pain needs to linger until its done. He did not feel quite willing just yet, to let it go. Even if he could. And then I wondered with him whether he may like to talk to someone who was less close to him and to his family. Someone who might offer him comfort and analysis. Someone who might listen to the pain behind the pain.

David told me that he thought a duck was a duck. That what happened to him happened because of Sam, and his oddities and unreasonable personality. I asked if he was sure that was all there was to the story (after all, he did tell me he had made some mistakes along the way too. Could they have contributed to the problem?). I asked if it were possible that getting relief, comfort, whenever he should want it, might necessitate a look inside as well, a little deeper. Maybe a look at how he got into such a bad deal, or how he put so much faith in someone who turned on him. Or what fears of his own may have been gurgling beneath the surface, and added to the turmoil, to his reactions, and even to those of his partner.

He was open to this. To studying the situation. Even this amount of talking seemed to bring hope and the prospect of relief. And we both agreed that any efforts to unpack the problems, or look deeper had to be padded with comfort. We do have endure painful thoughts and feelings sometimes, in order to let them pass, in order to get to know deeply, our own resiliency and passions, and our own resistances and character. But we don't have to go at it hard or head on all the time. In fact, David's tendency toward urgency and intensity may have contributed to his problems with Sam.

So David got me thinking about comfort and balance, about obstacles and accomplishments. And about the idea that taking a look at yourself can bring comfort, but it needs to be done gently. And about how very deeply we connect first to knowing we are human and that we make mistakes, and that we can tackle trauma even, when we know we not alone.

That in itself can be hopeful and comforting. And for those of you want a treat, on the subject of comfort, check out this interview with the wonderful and very human Anne Lamott, author and fellow traveler, about life, her many books, and on humanness, honestly and survival.

There is comfort in knowing that all humans make mistakes, act impulisivelyat times, have fear. That we can bear some discomfort in order to have more comfort, more grace, and better feelings. We can hurt. We can learn. We can heal. We can stay safe. Even when the trouble seems to linger or come from our own mind, there is comfort in telling our story and growing gently toward a better understanding of ourselves and our world.

The Dangerous "Yes But You..." Disease

Consider this: Jane and Jon have been married for three years. They generally enjoy each other's company and companionship and get along well. They are hard working, saving for a house, and maybe kids one day. She likes to take day trips to see interesting things on the weekends. He prefers to chill around the house. Maybe mow the lawn and play some ball with the guys. They work it out. Overall, things are fine. But its just that something subtle is brewing. Its sort of like a small hum. Their sex life is pretty good still. It has slowed down a little bit over the last year or so, but no worries, really.

Jon is a mellow guy. He doesn't talk too much, a sharp contrast to Jane's pretty constant chatter. In fact, sometimes, its not chatter, its more of a running commentary on her work, her family, her friends, her die hard belief in protecting animals. Jon actually likes Jane's banter most of the time. He found her interesting at first, and since he does not have a lot to say, he does not mind it that she fills the silence. And Jane does not seem to mind that Jon is a guy of few words, and fewer still, analyses of life and relationships.

Fast forward six years, one kid and one on the way. A slower than slow sex life now and that small hum has turned into an annoying buzz. Neither can put their finger on what it is, but they both hear it. Jane wonders what it is that wrong. She wants Jon to say more, talk more, emote more. She wants an emotional connection. Jon still listens to Jane's banter, but more and more he feels like he cannot say anything real to her because 1) her first response is usually negative and 2) she will argue him under the table if she does not like what he says.

Jon, who never really was big on conversation, feels both defeated and frightened. He loves Jane, and he enjoys her. And he would actually talk more to her about his own feelings and ideas if he felt safer, if he did not think she would immediately disagree, or present the opposite side of the issue. Or worse, yet, leave him. He somehow knows he fears this, deep down. And he is afraid to hurt her. He loves her. And he is grateful to her for being such a good mother and bearing his children.

So one day, when Jane tells Jon that she is not happy in the marriage and wishes Jon would open up more (a phrase that ranks high on a man's most annoying statements list), Jon, with great struggle, decides that he is going to brave it and tell Jane a truth about herself.

"Jane," he begins, "I find it hard to open up to you because you always seem to argue with what I say, or your first response is negative...." (Jon is looking at her tentatively and with hope and fear, and, surprisingly to him, eyes full of tears and an ache in his throat)...and here is what comes next:

Scenario 1: Jane (feeling resentful and angry, hurt and defensive, automatically sprays like a skunk, "Yes, but you never really listen to me, you have no idea what I need or want and you don't understand or have anything real to say. You would rather watch TV than listen to me, you never initiate anything except sex, and I hate how you do that. "

Okay....so you can imagine where this is going. And just to let the therapist in me mention that yes, and okay, we could, unpack here, all the reasons why Jane is Jane and Jon is Jon, and all their ideas about marriage, character and communication, but that's a therapy session or book, not a blog post, so I will leave it for now....

Scenario 2: Jon says the same thing...and Jane says: nothing. for a whole minute. She still feels hurt and angry and defensive, but she stays quiet. And then she says: Thank you for telling me. That couldn't have been easy. I did not know I come across this way to you.

And then Jon says. "I don't want us to grow apart. I like us. I love you."

Its not always so simple...but you get the drift. The Yes But You disease can be a relationship killer. It kills friendships, marriages, business partnerships. The good news is, its highly curable. With a bit of work and an open mind.

People offer suffer an enormous amount of emotional pain when trying to be understood by someone who has hurt them. Or trying to work out a difficult relationship. Its hard to own up to your own stuff, or to learn about how your partner experiences you, especially when you are pretty clear about what they do wrong. And especially when you are hurting, or have a tendency to be very hard on yourself, and not allow for human mistakes without going into self pity and despair (next post on this).

But when someone is brave enough to tell you what is in the way of the relationship being successful, you have to be brave enough to listen. You may not agree, but its always a good idea to try to hear what they are telling you before you spray. It may redirect you future, and leave you so much better off than you could ever imagine.

Surviving Break Ups or What Happened to Me?

"I don't know why they call it heartbreak. It feels like every other part of my body is broken too." ~Missy Altijd

It seems to me that when folks come through my door looking for help healing a broken heart, the whole of their face is a question mark. "What happened? What happened to me? How will I survive this? How will I function like this?" "Will I ever feel okay again?" One my readers recently emailed me and asked for some ideas, nothing heavy, just some thoughts on functioning while in pain. While in the aftermath of losing something - a relationship, and someone, who you love.

More questions too. "How do I grieve someone who is not dead. Who is walking around somewhere on this green earth, looking up at the same sky, getting caught in the same rain?" Maybe even living in the same house that was once "ours," taking care of the same kids, pets or projects. How do you also grieve all the little, and not so little, satellite losses. Places you used to go, jokes you used to share. Even, in our age of tech, designated ring tones. All the reminders, all the loss, and all the longing. It can all seem like too much.

"Forget about moving on. How do I even move?" writes one visitor to my blog. And "Forget about letting go, how do I even let up on myself?" I keep thinking about all the mistakes, the would haves, the could haves, and the if onlys."

There are many different kinds of grief. But broken heart grief, especially when you are not the one who wanted out, ranks way up there on the pain register. So first things first, I think. And easy does it. When you are in the first stages of grief, its hard to believe, or even fathom, that time itself will most likely help shape your pain into something livable, bearable, breathable. And that while you may never really forget, you will actually feel well one day, and interested in life again. Joy will return and you will get better.

There are some folks who do stay stuck in grief for a long time. Longer than long. And for this kind of grief, extra help is needed. Not to let go, or to forget, but to get interested in life again, to not sacrifice a good future because of a painful past. Those who also struggle with addiction, depression, or anxiety sometimes react to grief in more severe ways.

Perhaps one the biggest pieces of losing a love is losing part or parts of yourself. And knowing, only a little, about what really happened and why. Coming up for air amidst extreme sadness can seem impossible sometimes, but taking good care of yourself is always the way to go.

And underneath all the usual survival advice is this: Talk. Talk to someone who can listen gently. Talk to someone who can help you unpack what happened, at a pace that feels safe and sweet. Talk to someone who's voice feels like gauze around your insides. Talk to someone who can help you find yourself again. Talk to someone who can help you see your side of the street and learn a bit about yourself, both your needs and your character, so that you can grow forward and not repeat things that don't serve you well.

And if anger is a piece a of the pain, then talk about that too. Unexpressed anger can be toxic to the body and soul. Get to the bottom of the anger, which is often about fear, and sometimes about betrayal, no matter how long it takes. Give yourself permission to live in the meantime. Focus some time each day on someone else, your kids, your friends, a stranger. Giving can be healing.

Some good attention to the subtle but powerful thoughts playing in your head can help things along. If, in addition to sadness, there is a quiet but repetitive and convincing tape in your brain telling you that you are worthless, hopeless, stupid, pathetic or awful, or that you will never love again, all is lost, you can't survive this, that you must or will hide, shrink or worse, then you know that you've got to listen, to answer back. If that voice is attacking all that you are, and all that you have and do, then you have work to do. Acknowledging and answering that voice is crucial to surviving breakup pain and finding yourself and your life again.

Emotional pain can rival and trump physical pain at times. So we have to access all our possible resources. And employ the usual roll of "do's and don'ts" for healing. That is when you are ready to heal. Sometimes we need to hang to the pain for a while. But we also need to let some light back in.

It is hard to accept things as they are when pain is coloring everything. But I think a gentle note to yourself: "okay, so this is what it is right now," can help you turn the corner and walk in a good direction towards better feelings and better days.

There is more, of course, to healing a broken heart, but you can agree somewhere in your psyche to join the ranks of the walking wounded and take care of your responsibilities, and not slip away into the dark.

Toward the Pain or Living the Life I Have Always Wanted to Live

The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere

~Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I recently had the (good?) fortune to run into an old friend. We got to chatting, caught up on where life has taken us these last few years, and where we would like to be. She told me that finally she feels happy, joyous and free. That she is living the life she has always wanted to live. Her kids are growing up, requiring less of her than they used to. No diapers to change or baths to give. Meals run themselves pretty much and the sports schedule is at a minimum.

She is working for herself now, consulting and freelancing, with plenty of time to write, her passion, as it turns out, and take long walks with her husband. For about 39 seconds (okay, 2 minutes and 23 seconds) I was rip roaringly, unabashedly, wholly and completely jealous.

What does this mean, I am wondering. "Living the life I have always wanted to live." I wanted to know. Does this mean she is happy, like, all the time? I, who, am in the business of understanding people, helping them understand themselves, their desires and wishes, hurts and fears, and unpack what it is they want in life, from life, was baffled. (As well as momentarily green.) Does this mean that she has very few obligations, or financial worries? Or that she does not mind the ones she does have? Does it mean that she does not struggle with any bad feelings, have any difficult relationships, or questions yet unanswered about herself that keep her up at night?

Does she get along well with everyone in her life? Is she no longer burdened by other people's pain or the troubles of the country or the world. Is she not worried about the two journalists who are trapped in North Korea or Gilad Shalit? Is she free from addiction? Has she accepted her vices and made peace with her limitations? Does she no longer look at herself in the mirror with a critical eye, or lament that she may soon be going grey? Are her current accomplishments satisfying enough, and future ones only icing on an already rich cake? Did she have a gratifying and satisfying sex life? And a spiritual fitness that meets her own ideas of connectedness with the Gd of her understanding?

Or is it all false evidence appearing real? Am I comparing my insides (and almost everyone else's I know) to her outsides? After all, its not often someone tells you that they are feeling so well, overall, and specifically. Its not often I meet up with someone who seems so, well, determinedly content.

I did not get the idea she was being casual or conversational. Or boastful. I really thought she meant it, deeply. So I asked, and she explained.

She said that she has always had a difficult default setting in her brain. Her thoughts, feelings, ideas, always seem to go toward the pain, toward the fear, toward the not. It was wasn't so much a glass half empty problem, or an issue of not enough gratitude. Nor did she feel she had a block against focusing on the solution rather than the problem. It was, she explained, an historic comfort, a familialiarity with sitting psychically in some sort of deprivation, loneliness and sense of being misunderstood and unsupported. Perhaps because of biology, even. If not also family history.

She said that she has become aware of this, and of her own resistance to letting go of what does not work in her life, and going toward what does. She said that she became willing to take a good look at what her motivations in life were, and what she was really aiming for, and in small ways, she said that she has become a lot easier on herself and those around her. And that she gave herself permission to figure out what she wanted to be doing with her time, and makes sure that she does at least some of those things each week.

I know, it sounds a bit self-helpy. But I felt better after hearing it. I had started to think she found the golden ticket, and that it was the only one.

I think that when you are hurting it can look like the whole world is living the life they want to live, and you are stuck in the dense fog of pain and hopelessness. But I think we can spin our stories to end better. We parted in good spirits, my old friend and I, after a somewhat heavy street corner conversation. But I was glad she was feeling good about her life. I know she did not always have it so easy. And that there is something to be said for finding yourself and gracing yourself and saying so.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell (yourself): On Honesty

"If a thousand old beliefs were ruined in our march to truth we must still march on." ~Stopford Brooke

"I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth - and truth rewarded me." ~Simone de Beauvoir

I couldn't decide. So I've brought you both quotes. Here is what I have been thinking about lately: Being honest in therapy. Being honest with one's self. Being honest with G-d. And of course, for all the couples I work with, the pros and cons of being honest with each other. Sometimes honesty hurts, or we think it will. And since, I think, honesty does not always come easy or fast, we need to be honest about that too. About the fact that we don't always know what the truth is.

That there are different kinds of honesty. There are the facts, reality, as it is. And then of course, reality as it seems. There is emotional honesty, which sometimes, often times, actually, takes a bit of psychic exploratory surgery to discover what feeling(s) is really present. And there is very real and understandable problem of just not knowing what the truth really is.

So I am thinking about all the layers of the onion. That here, in the therapy room, is the place to say everything. To get curious, to be willing and brave and interested in the truth. Even if the truth is subjective. I suppose we could debate (and many have and do) the use of knowledge of the truth...does it really set you free? Does it really cure your addiction, relieve your rage, send the right message to your spouse? Release you from the trappings of your past? Does knowing how you were shaped and influenced, what effected you, how and why, really lead to progress and better things for your present and future?

Does unpacking your memories, facing your fears, fessing up to angers, resentments and desires really have a benefit? What if you could really get good glimpse of your unconscious? Would it matter? What if you could give yourself permission to really get to know yourself, flaws and assets, bumps and bruises, urges, wishes and secret longings?

The truth? I don't really know? How can we know this? But I think, honestly, from the therapist's chair, that honesty, at least in here, in my office, pays life quality dividends big time.

I am not talking about confession. I welcome it if it helps, but its okay with me if you are drinking a pint on Friday night after your spouse has gone to sleep, and you just can't seem to tell your sponsor. Or you really are spending a lot of time with the guy in the office two doors down, and you promised your partner you don't talk to him anymore. Or that you really watch Oprah when you work from home.

You can confess all you want in my office, I am listening. It helps to unload it, and this is a good place to do it. But. And. What next. Therapists don't have collars. We have mirrors. If you' d like. And hopefully a sense of when and how to use them.

Most people come in to get relief, to understand some things about themselves, about life, about their past, how it affects their present and future. How to have better. Better love, sex, money, serenity, sense of self, direction, self value, connections. Better.

Honesty, honestly, (makes me want to sing that old Billy Joel song), is sometimes a slow riser, like the sun, but I do think it brings light, to dark days, dark moods, dark lives. Even if the ideas are just guesses sometimes, even if we have to live with, or settle for, workable true enough ideas or insights. Even if, and since, in therapy-speak, not knowing the truth, or wanting to know the truth is a defense, and we respect and even protect defenses, unless and until they are no longer needed.

Its just some food for thought, that being open to learning about your own truths can go a long way, in here, out there. Its not always easy, so I tend to go lightly sometimes, but I believe its worth the go. That there is a benefit, and that honesty's close friends forgiveness, engagement, and relief and acceptance are always close by.

Passion

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." ~Harold Whitman

Okay, I am not advocating selfishness by bringing you the above quote. I am advocating interest. In what makes you tick. And you can always use that to give back to the world.

We all want to have passion at least somewhere in our lives. Some are afraid of it, and go to great lengths to avoid it. Some are afraid to live without it, and go to great lengths to create it. And, not to be confused with hunger, desire or drama, passion or lack of it really is what brings many people through the therapy door.

Some of us want it in our friendships, some want it in our careers, and most of us want it in the bedroom. We are frustrated, despondent, depressed even, when we feel that we have gone too long without it. But we don't often know how to create it. And we don't know how to make it jive with serenity and contentment, with order and routine and acceptance of the normal ebb and flow of relationships and jobs.

I see lots of attempts to ignore passion, and lots of attempts to find it. In the eating disorder community, we don't talk about passion nearly enough. And I see many folks confusing passion with compulsion and competition. Or letting passion turn into compulsion or competition.

And its often about squelching hungers. Sometimes there is a deep seated fear that knowing what you truly hunger for will shake up your world. Or someone else's. Or that you will not be able to have what it is you really want, or what really lights you up. Or that you will in fact be consumed by. The refusal to know your passions, the fear, is a common experience of many who suffer from eating disorders, as well anxiety and depression.

In the therapy room, passions of all kinds are welcome as a topic of discussion. They can be ushered out into the light and studied. There is no need, often times, no mandate, to act on them, but just to know them, to talk about them, to not squelch them back down inside - out of fear. Good decisions can be made when one is passionate. Passion does not have to be impulsive or clumsy, or hurtful or forceful. It can be life giving and useful. Quiet and steady.

The point is this: lots of energy often goes into to avoiding knowing ourselves. We may even fear we are dangerous in some way. But I think the danger is in not talking about passion. I think that depression and anxiety and eating disorders are all well treated when we put passion into the picture and get to know where it lives in us and for what or whom. Our relationships usually benefit as well. For all the attention we give to unpacking panic and depression, communication difficulties and addiction, we should not forget to weave passion into discussion and learn what it means to us, what ideas, fears, images, memories or feelings the word itself brings up. And then we can use it to move forward toward whatever it is we are seeking. We can use it to have more what we want and be more content with what we have.

Ducking Shoes ~The Rule of Three: Impulsivity, Waiting and Not Acting on Feelings

You know the old adage..."If I had a dime for every time I......" fill in the blank...and in this case..."for every time I acted impulsively and wish I had not..." or " that I did not stop to think things through."

It is rarely a good idea to act on a feeling. And yet, we do it all the time. In both large and small ways. Some more destructive than others. We are angry, we yell. Or leave. We are stressed, we overeat, or drink or fill in the blank. We feel hurt, we insult whoever hurt us, or we ignore them. When we get flooded with an emotion, we often act before we really can pause to consider what may be in our best interest, or in the best interest of the relationship.

What are we after we when we do this? A few things maybe. Understanding, revenge, relief, release, connection, attention, assurance, validation. To begin with.

If we stop to reflect or discuss things with a third party, a good ear, and to study what we do and when, and why, we often learn a lot about what goes on in the relationships we have. Sometimes, when I suggest this, I am met with the fear that I am implying that whatever is going on is our own fault. That's true, in some ways, but really, it's not a matter of fault, but a matter of effect. When we are naturally caught up in a torrent of emotions, we are not usually in the frame of mind to consider the effect our words and actions might have on the situation, or relationship, past the relief of the moment. And sometimes, certain people bring it out the reactor in us, for a variety of reasons. This too is worthy of study.

There are times when we do have to act or react right away. We have to call for help if there is a fire, or accident. We have duck if someone hurls something at us. (For some reason, I am thinking of former President Bush and the shoe incident). I suppose its because we sometimes have to duck words as well. Verbal shoes. And we have to gather up our cool to not react in the moment.

Of course we did not learn our reactions in a vacuum. We have life stories, histories, both psychic and environmental, familial, and cultural. These histories have shaped us, and often we repeat what we have learned. We do this consciously sometimes, but more often, its unconscious. In therapy speak its called repetition compulsion. Doing what we do is a complication of learned behavior and survival, of coping and dealing and taking care of ourselves. But when we don't have the success we might like in our careers, relationships, and the feelings we want in our lives, day to day, and overall, its time to take a good look at how we operate and why. This can take a while, but I think its worth it. We can get a lot of mileage out of unpacking the past, and seeing how it affects the present and future.

In the meantime, there's always the rule of three. Before making a big decisions, or little ones for that matter, and before yelling back, or throwing a verbal knife, before taking any action, that is based on a feeling, teach yourself to wait three. Three minutes. Three hours. Three days. Take three. The more urgent it feels, the more we need the rule of three. Unless its really a fire.

Not an emotional fire. A real fire. All other things, usually, are better off tended to with care and whatever calm we can muster.

Of course there are those of us who really like a good fight. S'okay. More on that one day soon. And I am all for passion, and plenty of it, in the right time. But its good to know where we walk, and what the point, or purpose of it is. Breathe, pause, pray. Talk, walk, write, slow it down. No doubt we need relief from our urgent feelings, but at what cost? I think it pays to wait, when we can. However we can, and go gently.