Lies We Live By (that hurt our selves and our relationships)

Okay, I know this might sound a bit harsh - but stay with me.  Because sometimes we have lies that we tell ourselves - usually because we are in pain - usually they are fear based lies.  And usually we tell ourselves these lies in an effort to protect ourselves and to survive and to cope with whatever pain or problem we are trying to deal with. 

And usually these lies have a small core of truth to them, just enough that its hard to tell that they are lies.  When it comes to relationships, these can really trip us up.  So picking up on my last post, here are a few to consider - along with some possible underlying fears and some truths that might help bring some relief:

Lie: S/he must understand deeply what they did that hurt me.  I need this understanding.  If s/he does not understand then I cannot move on.

Possible Underlying Fears that: I am worthless.  I'll be alone.  Being hurt means I'm bad.  If I make a mistake it will have irreparable consequences.  I won't be safe. I'm not okay unless they admit what they did

Truth:  It would really help a lot if s/he understood deeply what s/he did that hurt me.  It may be difficult to move on - but I can embrace my own healing process.  His/her understanding is not the sole key to my relief and pursuing it may further hurt the relationship.

Lie: If I cannot trust him/her completely all the time and in all areas then this relationship is bad.

Possible Underlying Fears that: I won't be safe. I'll keep getting hurt.  I have no good choices.  I'll lose my security.  I'll be the stupid one and mistakes like that are not allowed.

Truth:  We all slip up.  Some lies are worse than others.  It is possible to be with someone that we cannot trust in every single way.  We can seek to understand what is underneath the lie.  (I'm not suggesting you stay in dangerous or damaging relationships, just that taking a step back and unpacking what the fear is and addressing it can really be useful).

Lie: If s/he does not love me all the time no matter what I say or do or how I behave then I must not be lovable.   I should able to act/be/say/behave however I want towards him/her/life and s/he should still adore me.  (this is usually a quiet but powerful one).


Possible Underlying Fears that: I really am not lovable.  I cannot make it on my own without his/her approval and agreement.  I'm not safe or important unless s/he is always in sync with me.  This relationship really is all bad.  I made a big mistake that's unforgivable.  I have no good choices.

Truth: In healthy relationships people don't always feel loving or agree with each other all the time.  I have infinite worth no matter what, but I am responsible for how I behave and what I say.  S/he can be his/her own person - that does not make me less than anyone else.  It is unreasonable to act poorly and expect others to still have good feelings about us - even, maybe especially, those we are closest to.  I can still express my feelings, but I can do it responsibly.

Lie: If I need something and s/he loves me - s/he should do it - or that means s/he does not really love me - or that means that I am not really lovable.   So then I feel alone and I really am alone.

Possible Underlying Fears:  I really am alone.  I will always feel this way.  I must deserve this.

Truth: Feelings are real, but they are not always facts.  We can tend to our lies and fears gently and honestly and we can be okay.  Sometimes we are alone, but so is everyone and it's not always so bad. I can learn how to cope without so much self criticism and fear.  People who love each other don't always do everything right for each other.

Some of us are pretty well aware of these subtle lies and some of us think we've got them licked but somehow they are still influencing our feelings and our behavior.  When take a good look at the quiet beliefs that are under our feelings and actions, we can move forward in new ways that  can bring us much better feelings and results.

There are many more.  What are yours?

Broken Up Does Not Mean Broken (or does it?)

I hesitate to start the year off with grief but a lot of folks have been telling me that they were glad to see 2013 go - there was too much heartbreak.  And when heartbreak comes up, and we shine the light on some of the thoughts and ideas that go with it one chain of thinking is this:

S/he broke up with me/broke my heart/disappointed me/hurt me/betrayed me: therefore not only is s/he awful but really because s/he did this/feels this way: that means that I am awful, worthless, unlovable, un-wantable.  It must be all my fault.  Whatever I did or however I am (which I can't even look at because that would be too terrible to deal with) must be so bad that I deserved this.  So: therefor it must be all his/her fault and s/he must see this or I will go crazy.  Maybe I am crazy. 

Sometimes this is a quiet whispering - sometimes very quiet  and - sometimes not so much.

And there is often this too:  If I do not have infinite value to this person, and s/he does not place my feelings and me above all else at all times, then I really must be worthless.  Or s/he must be way too flawed.  Or our love must not be the real thing.  Or it's broken.  Or I am broken. 

Of course everyone does this to different extremes at different times. 

But when we can we ask ourselves - without awful self attack - What is my part?  How reasonable are my expectations?  Are they emotionally reasonable? Am I making unreasonable demands? How do I come across?  How do I behave?  Am I putting the responsibility for my own self worth on someone else?  Is it possible that my reaction to this current situation packs the punch that it does because of a past trauma, feeling, hurt, experience, relationship?  Could I have a role in it,  but not be awful? Or worthless.  Could I bear the hurt without it being so attached to my sense of self?

For sure, these are not usually simple questions, they need some real and tender exploration and study.  And we are absolutely influenced by what other people think of us and how they behave toward us, especially people we respect, love and are attached to.  But.  We tend to suffer a lot more when we don't take a look into the deeper emotional messages and beliefs we have, and when we attach being hurt by someone to the deep - sometimes quiet belief that we are unlovable or pathetic. 

This prevents us from finding out what our part really is and then taking care of it so that it does not keep repeating in our lives.  But it does not mean that we are worthless, it just means we have to work to do - good, worthwhile work.

And of course, there is so much emotional pain when someone we love and depend on leaves us, or hurts us.  There are many layers to such grief.  But one piece of the puzzle that can bring us real relief is to consider that taking a look at our part will help us feel and be better.  And another good piece is to have the idea that just because we have been hurt does not mean that we are worthless and undeserving of love.

The Year in Review (sort of) and Hope Forward Again

As the year turns again, I've been thinking a lot about hope and about resiliency and about resources.
I've been thinking about complicated grief, complicated life choices, sacrifice, joy and meaning.

Lots of folks this year in my office have talked out and through difficult relationship issues.  Some have stayed in the relationship and tried to climb through the mountain of anger and sadness and do what needs to be done to cultivate a culture of mutual respect and to bring back the love and seen surprising good results. Others have decided to move on and forward.

Some folks have keep at the good - but not always easy - work of understanding more about their relationship with themselves.  Some have dug into the past to see how it effects the present and could shape the future.  Others have been talking about trauma, frustration, grief, addiction and obsession.

Some situations take time to sort through, others give way to clarity sooner.  The questions of who we are, what we need, what we are willing to sacrifice for, compromise on and invest in continue to be important and discussion worthy.

A lot of folks tell me that there is peace of mind and meaning that comes from the search.  That at least the looking serves the purpose of honoring one's self, spirit and psyche.  That even when things are not abundantly clear, there is goodness in knowing the effort is being made to find out more.

And, a lot of folks ask me "What if I try (to heal, figure it out, do this method or that) and it doesn't work? What if there is nothing left to try?"  So this is where hope can be painful.  But I think that there are always new places to explore, and there are old places to explore again in new ways. 

Sometimes, we are even afraid of better.  Someone once asked me "Why does getting better - feeling better even - seem to make me feel worse sometimes?"  And I think that maybe it's because the familiar is so comforting and we think that the fear and the worry will keep us from something really bad happening.  That the things that kept us feeling safe no longer work really as we move forward in life is a daunting idea sometimes.

But I land on hope anyway.  I think that when we are sorting it all through -   be it quickly or slowly - that if we have our sources of nourishment in place, we can keep at it and it pays off.  We just have to take good care of our sources: our supportive relationships, our spiritual life, our service to others, our safe places to talk, our quiet time, our genuine pleasures - the places where we get uncomplicated good feelings -  and then we can keep on keeping on as the rest unfolds.

Lee and Mordy and Ellen and " We Compromise: She's Always RIght"

It's sweeping the nation: 

Lee and Mordy's Swiffer commercial and their comic but relate- able exchange.  Lee is talking; Mordy is sleeping.  Lee is cleaning; Mordy is watching tenderly, hoping she does not fall.  He does not do any cleaning, he tells Ellen DeGeneres. And when she asks him to what he attributes the success of a long marriage he says:

"You compromise.  Then I give in."  Everyone chuckles.

And it's sweet.  And maybe we are laughing because we recognize some of ourselves, some truisms about how relationships work, about the ways to make a marriage work over the years.

But - not that I want to put a but into Lee and Mordy - But a few things:

First: It is often a good marital tool to give in.  To grace, to concede, to not have to have our way.  It's okay and outside of abuse, it is often useful.  Except when resentment creeps in and starts to color how we feel.  Except when we dumb ourselves - or our spouse down. 

Dumbing men down and witching women up does not help us to come into our relationships with the emotional strength and maturity we need to make things good.

While there are many general truisms about gender differences (and even some bio genetically based evidence now scientifically supporting how differently men and women process emotion) and while these truisms can help us to laugh at ourselves, grace ourselves and our partner,  the feeling that many men have is that their only way out of discord is to give in.  Often men simmer over long periods of time. feeling either defeated, frustrated or resentful.  And they often then, retreat emotionally.


And women then wonder why their man does share more of himself, more of his thoughts, more of his ideas.  And they wonder why he withdraws, and so goes the cycle. 

If every - or almost every - word or action we do is aimed at creating a culture of support, of building up, not breaking down - if we are conscious of this and careful - women get so much more of the emotional connection they crave and men get so much more of the feeling of respect and effectiveness they need.

Morty did say, too, and first, that you have to love each other.  What he did not say is that it's hard to do in a culture of defeat.  We can - and we should - laugh at ourselves and the dynamics in our relationships and at the gender differences that play out, but only when we are in sync and connected and are laughing on a foundation of clarity and mutual acceptance.

Grace and Grief

and this too


“Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence.”    ~ Anne Lamott


I just finished Anne Lamott's latest book, Stitches, and wanted to bring you a few quotes; there some more... especially on grief that I will bring you soon as well.

Because we are all, in one way or another, at one time or another, grieving.  And sometimes that grief comes in disguise.  It shows up as anger or fear or agitation or overwhelm or lethargy or depression.  And sometimes even when life is rolling along seeming okay, but our mood is off somehow, grief can be the cause.

What sometimes comes up here in the therapy room is this:  the idea that when we have a feeling or reaction that is really big in current time, it is often because it is a re-trauma, or re-experience or reminder of something from our past.  Meaning that something can happen in a current relationship, a current job situation, interaction or event of some kind, and we feel it deeply.  It certainly has importance in it's own and current time and right, but we may experience it and react to it with more power because of past trauma or past experiences.

It usually helps to know.  To shine the light on things a bit because when we can figure it out, we have a better chance of  recognizing, healing and living better with the grief.   If our past is still effecting the way we respond in the present, then it's shaping our future. 

So that's where grace comes in.  When we allow ourselves all of our feelings, and let ourselves be curious and studious about whether they are old ones or new ones or some of both.  And then we can be open to grace, for ourselves and others.

Flood the Bucket

A friend of mine who is coming out of a very bad breakup was telling me that she is plowing through lots of good books on grief. She is speaking out all the pain to her support network.  She is taking quiet time, saying some prayers, walking and crying and writing and really trying to feel the feelings and bear the pain.  She knows she is grieving.  She knows it will take time.

And still.

It keeps on keeping on and she does not seem to be able to get relief, at least not the kind of relief she'd like.  She knows that part of healing means that there is really no way around - there is only through. 

She told me though, that one wise presence in her life told her this:  Flood the Bucket.
Meaning: picture a bucket of water.  Picture a drop of ink in the bucket.  If you stir the bucket, the ink spreads and colors the water.  But if you flood the bucket then the ink just sloshes around and gets lost.  It gets diluted. It gets smaller and smaller.

Flood the bucket with new things, things that comfort, things that add, things that give meaning.  Flood it with good wholesome healing activities, people, places, interests.  Flood it with creativity, art, writing, song.  Flood it with good deeds, fresh air, sunlight.

This does not mean, not by a long shot, that we should not have our feelings, that we should not feel them, or that we should minimize them or ignore them.  Or that having more will erase the pain.  Or that we should be compulsive or overly busy. 

It just means that it can help to be open to new things, new activities, new forms of substance, nurturing, contribution and creativity.  It can help to add life giving things when life feels so dark and so bleak and so vacant.

There is, I believe, so much value to having our feelings, to letting them live and breathe and be and giving ourselves full permission to do so.  But there is also something very valuable to the idea of flooding the bucket.  Of adding life.

A thank you to my friend and her friend for this idea.

Staking Your Territory

Recently I heard the following parable:

A benevolent king was riding through the forest in his kingdom and came upon a poor peasant slumped up against a tree crying.  The kind hearted king ordered his driver to stop and the king got out of his carriage and approached the peasant.  "What's the matter?" asked the king.  "I have nothing," replied the peasant, "nothing to call my own, nothing to my name."  So the king pulled out from his carriage four long silver stakes and took one of them and drove it securely into the ground.  Then the king said to the peasant "Take the other three stakes and walk as far as you'd like.  Put them in the ground as markers and you may keep all the land within them as your own."
With that, the king got back into his carriage and rode away.
The peasant, he walked for several miles and raised a stake high to drive it into the ground,  but paused and decided to go a bit further.  He walked several more miles and once again picked up a stake and began to drive it into the ground, but again decided to go further.
So as the story goes, what do you think happened to the peasant?

He is still walking.

So I was thinking that there are a few different ways to glean some meaning from this: 

First, it's often useful to know - for ourselves - the difference -the line - between ambition and excess.  We do have to search, but perhaps, we do have to define ourselves as some point.
It helps us to know who we are, what we "yes" have and when to say when.
More is not always better.  Having what we need and needing what we have even if we are not on the leading competitive edge may actually yield us a better inner life: more peace of mind, serenity, knowledge of what gives us meaning and what gives our lives value.

And this: Boundaries often set us free.  Free to relax. Free to pursue meaning based on reasonable goals.  Free to be satisfied.  Free to know what our limits are and how to live well within them and because of them. Free to focus on what we have and what we are and what we can do with what we already have and are.  Free to settle -  because sometimes settling is the path to peace and joy.

It's not that we should not look for better - it's just that perhaps there are times that we have to be gracious and conscious about defining ourselves and about what we believe better to really be.