Word Wonder -- accept

accept

1. To receive with favour, willingness or consent.  2. To give an affirmative answer to.  3. To receive as satisfactory or sufficent: to accept an apology.  4. To take with good grace; submit to: to accept the inevitable. [From the Latin acceptare and often accipere, which mean "to take": ad- to + capere to take] -- Funk & Wagnall's Canadian College Dictionary

When I started writing this blog post I was going to use the word "acceptance." However, as I typed the definitions, I decided that acceptance, as a noun, seems to be a more passive word than the verb "accept." When I think about acceptance I get a peaceful image of somebody not much like me -- some guru guy meditating serenely on a mountainside or something. Nice image, but sometimes it's hard to replace the image of the guru with an image of myself.


On the other hand, the verb "accept" carries some energy with it. This is something I can do, even if it's hard or unwelcome to think about. Since I believe in taking positive action to help myself and others, I switched to the verb form of the word. As I've said before, sometimes doing anything is better than doing nothing.

Acceptance is the result of taking the action to accept, so it makes more sense to me to begin at the beginning.

When something is going wrong or unwelcome news comes, most people's first defense is to feel shock or surprise and a sense of unreality: This can't be happening! As time goes along, the change usually starts to feel less surprising, even if it's still unwelcome. There are no absolute reactions or order in which they come, but many people do feel angry, frustrated, sad, confused and/or unwilling to accept the change. These reactions to change and stress can last minutes, days, weeks or longer. Everyone is different.

What is similar about us, though, is that we all have a choice about accepting the change that's been dumped on us. As you read in the definition above, to accept refers to many related actions:

• To receive with favour, willingness or consent.
• To give an affirmative answer to.
• To receive as satisfactory or sufficent
• To take with good grace

Nowhere does the definition talk about being delighted or thrilled; instead it speaks of willingness and receiving and taking with good grace. The kind of challenges that are hard to accept usually bring pain or loss or something else few of us welcome. But positive action is still possible. Here are some statements you can say to yourself (in your own words, if you like) that might make change easier to accept:

• This is really hard, and it's a good idea to allow myself to feel all my feelings. BUT I am willing (even the smallest amount) to receive this change, to stop rejecting it and everything connected to it. I don't have to like it, but it doesn't help me to dwell on my anger and resentment, either.
• I will open my heart, mind and hands as far as I can to see where I can say "Yes" in this situation.
• This is what it is, and I can't change it. But I can change me and my response to this challenge.
• There is so much in this situation that I can't control. BUT if I look, I will find something I can do something about.
• What have I (or others) done in the past to handle tough circumstances? Maybe I'll try one or two of those things now. When one thing doesn't work, I can' always try something different.
• Life happens to everybody, and it isn't always fun or terrible. It just is.

You probably already use some of these ideas or others like them. I do, too. But it can be helpful to re-examine even familiar strategies, to refresh our thinking and feeling so that we can act in ways that help rather than hinder. None of this is likely to be a steady uphill climb. Many of life's challenges feel like a roller coaster ride of fear, pain, hope, effort, support, loss, success, confusion and more change. That's really just the way life is sometimes, and learning to accept that helps when a world of hurt hits you.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
by Maya Angelou


The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.


But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.


The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom


The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.


But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.


The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Are you a free or a caged bird?

Of what do you sing?

Of what do you dream?

Whatever it may be, please keep singing, and please keep dreaming,

for we all need each other in order to be free.

Our dreams and our music bring us to freedom.

It is What it Is

Maybe it's my age, but I seem to be hearing this expression more and more: "It is what it is." This little gem generally follows a small or medium inconvenience or problem, such as a somewhat painful medical test, a disappointment at work, or a hurtful comment by a friend or relative.

The expression itself is almost too ridiculously obvious to utter, and yet I (and others) seem to find some comfort or strengthening in the words. I think its power lies in the expression of the obvious, because it counteracts our (or at least my) innate desire to have the bad thing go away, like the little child I sometimes feel like. That little kid stomps her feet and makes little fists and gets mad and weepy at the "bad thing" that's happening.

But It is what it is seems to help the adult take over. It's easier to get real and get on with it. Okay, fine. I don't like it, but oh, well, it's here. Deal with it.

Then I'm okay again. Most interesting. I can more calmly look at my options and make a choice about what to do or what to feel or focus on instead of my hurt feelings or discomfort. Much better. It's amazing to me how very simple it can be to change my mind about my feelings and my actions. It certainly doesn't work all the time, but that is what it is too, eh?

If fear weren't there...

I couple of weeks ago, in the midst of various health challenges and changes, a friend passed on a question she'd heard recently:

How would you act if fear weren't there?

Hmmmm... Good one. Although I didn't have much energy when I heard it, part of me liked this question because it cut through all the rhetoric and emotional roller coasters. The question asks me to set aside my ordinary reactions and more objectively ask myself what actions I would take in a situation if I (or even others) weren't afraid. It doesn't ask or expect me to stop feeling the fear, just to consider what I'd do if the fear weren't there.

My favourite definition of courage is "to feel the fear and do it anyway" -- whatever "it" might be. This new question I'm writing about is, to me, a helpful way to move from the theoretical definition of courage into action. And since I'm a great believer in action as the antidote to many sticky situations, this is something I can get my head around.

For example, if you were faced with an unexpected and unwanted job change, such as a layoff or being fired, a common reaction would be to feel afraid (among other feelings). Fears about your financial situation, changing status and/or respect, loss of workplace friendships, having to move, and so on. Many people would feel fearful in such a situation.

But now imagine that instead of dwelling on the worries and what-ifs, you just sat down and for a few minutes pretended you were an android or a robot. Imagine yourself moving into 'Droid Mode in which you feel nothing and simply have a problem to solve -- a problem no more emotional than sorting through the junk drawer or sweeping the floor.

In 'Droid Mode, you say to yourself, "Okay, so this is not what I wanted or expected. The situation appears to leave me with no familiar options, but I will consider every option I am able to see at this moment. Some will be familiar, perhaps, while others may not. That is no matter. I will simply weigh each one to determine how helpful it might be in this situation. Then I will choose reasonable actions and carry them out."

And so, ignoring all emotional reactions to the change, you simply list problems that have arisen and what you can do right now and in the near future to address them.

What would you do if the fear weren't there?

Thoughts about Death

Since the death of my step-son a year and a half ago, I have roamed and lurched all over the strange planet of grief, loss and change, accommodation and acceptance, fury and pain. It's a complicated and unwelcoming place, to be sure.

Before Daniel's death, I had experienced many deaths -- my first child, my father and grandparents, all my aunts and uncles, friends, in-laws, students, cousins and pets. Since Daniel's death, more deaths have touched my life closely...and painfully. My world is being rocked significantly.

I am being challenged to re-examine my ideas about death. I've never been terribly afraid of dying or of death, but I've also never spent a lot of time thinking about it. I guess in some vague way I've just assumed it would all turn out okay. This non-approach has been part of my magical thinking, which I wrote about a few times in April.

My current exploration starts from a place of absolutely believing I can't know for certain what dying feels like or what happens after we're dead. So it's all speculation. Maybe we'll understand it on "the other side." Maybe we won't. I can't know that, either. Maybe I won't even know it once I "get" there.

I like to think that our time after we leave these bodies will be pleasant, but I don't invest a lot of emotion into that preference, because as I said before, I don't believe it's possible to know for sure while we're on "this side."

Where all this surmising and musing leaves me is with this: it actually doesn't matter too much (to me) what happens after I die, but it matters a great deal what happens before I die. And I can do something about that. I can choose to live my life fully and consciously. I can choose to regularly act on the love I feel for those around me. I can choose to be a better version of myself than I was yesterday or last week or last year. I can choose to be respectful  and kind to those I find hard to love and to those I meet only briefly. I can choose to shoot for my best self and to be grateful when I see traits I admire in others and in myself.

So I don't currently feel too worried about the hereafter. I'm aware that I may feel very differently if I'm conscious when I'm close to my death, but even so, I prefer to deal with the here-now as best I can. In the meantime, I love this sentiment about death which has been ascribed to Mark Twain:

I do not fear death. I had been dead for billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the slightest inconvenience from it.

Word Wonders -- disgruntle & gruntle

disgruntle
To make dissatisfied or sulky; put out of humor. [from the prefix dis- (meaning "not") + gruntle, an obsolete word that intensified the meaning and impact of "grunt"] -- Funk & Wagnall's Canadian College Dictionary and The Oxford English Reference Dictionary
 
In other words, disgruntle means to "not gruntle," which for me instantly raised the question, "What, then, does 'gruntle' mean?" So here you go. I found the definition and a couple of delightful uses of "gruntle" online and discovered that it means "to put in a good humor." (from www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/gruntle). Texan Walter Prescott Webb, 1888-1963, wrote that some people "were gruntled with a good meal and good conversation."
 
In the entry from the 1913 edition of  Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary (found on www.thefreedictionary.com/gruntle), I learned that gruntle also once meant "to grunt repeatedly."

So here's my fanciful theory about the development of gruntle and disgruntle. (Remember I am not a word expert but, rather, a word enthusiast with an imagination.) Maybe, back in the day, a pig farmer or village of pig owners noticed that their swine grunted when they were contented with their slop and mud. They came up with the word "gruntle" to describe the pigs' expressions of bliss.

Then maybe another astute soul noticed that sometimes humans also grunt with pleasure at dinner time (and other pleasurable events) and applied "gruntle" to their expressions, too. Hence, over time, to be gruntled could come to mean that a person was in a good humor or tranquil.

Then, life being what it is, someone who was not in a good humor, was not feeling at ease and serene, might have come to be described as being "disgruntled." And, sad to say, the delightful little word gruntle passed from our daily vocabulary.

Personally, I'm really glad I found the word gruntle, because as it happens, earlier today I was feeling decidedly disgruntled about a variety of frustrations. However, it was time to write a blog post so I decided to investigate a Word Wonder. Those are usually entertaining for me, and I was hoping I'd get distracted from my grumpiness.

It worked. Not only did I get distracted, I got gruntled in my search for meaning...of the word "disgruntled." And the word "gruntled" is so charming and rolls so nicely around in my mouth, that I think it might just help me choose being gruntled over being disgruntled the next time I'm out of sorts. And, that, my friends, is an important part of healing and personal growth.

Happy Gruntling to me and to you!!

Magical Thinking

Never grow a wishbone, daughter,

where your backbone ought to be.

-- Clementine Paddleford

Born in Kansas in 1898, Clementine Paddleford  wrote in her memoir that her mother gave her the advice I've quoted above. Apparently young Clementine listened well, since she grew up to become an intrepid journalist, pilot and traveler in the 1920s to 1960s.

As a food writer at such publications as the New York Herald Tribune and the New York Sun, Paddleford flew a Piper Cub all over the States to learn about and report on regional foods. She went aboard a submarine to learn what the sailors ate and explored quiet corners of her country to discover what the locals prepared for their families. Paddleford then conveyed her enthusiasm to readers by tempting their palettes with descriptions of the exotic-sounding foods she found in her travels.

When I found Paddleford's quote a number of years ago, I knew nothing about her. I only knew that its cleverly worded meaning shot straight into me and put words to a vague and unsettling feeling I had about myself. Although I was happy with some of my accomplishments and personal traits, I knew I wasn't being and doing all I could. At that time I'd never heard of "magical thinking," but I could tell I had more of a wishbone than a backbone in some areas of my life.

Through the years I've carried Clementine's mother's advice around in my head. I've passed it on to students and have continue to be attracted to its meaning. And when for the first time I heard about the idea of magical thinking, I knew that Mrs. Paddleford had nailed it so many years before.

To me, magical thinking means meekly waiting around for something to happen instead of doing it for yourself. It implies to me a floppy, waffling sort of attitude to one's circumstances and, perhaps, oneself.

Magical thinking is not the same as being patient or wisely waiting for the best time. It is not the same as trusting others or accepting limitations. Instead, it's a state of mind that doesn't allow a person to recognize his or her own strength and ability. Magical thinking is the result of (and supports) the belief that some external Somebody or Something will fix the problems, get the job done, make the desired result appear...and it immobilizes the magical thinker because she or he does not believe in herself or himself.

Letting go of magical thinking -- getting a backbone instead of a wishbone -- means seeing one's own abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. It means letting go of the idea that others will fix one's problems. It means taking responsibility for choices and decisions.

Changing my own magical thinking has come as a result of facing and dealing with the lousy things that have been done to me as well as the lousy things I have done or the valuable things I have not done because I was waiting for somebody to do it for me. It's a satisfying (though not always easy) feeling to take responsibility for my own life, for myself, for my choices.

In my next post, I'll offer a journalling exercise that can help you look at your own tendencies towards magical thinking.

Appreciation & Gratitude

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

For the past two weeks I've been quite sick, and this ended with five days in the hospital. I got out yesterday and am on the mend. It was nothing life threatening, but it has not been fun.

Today, as a result of many people and factors, my appreciation-gratitude-index is way up. Co-workers, my partner, my boss, and a number of friends supported me and sorted out the details of my life when I couldn't. The health care system in my little corner of Canada worked beautifully to get me better and keep me comfortable. Medical staff gave me thorough, friendly care, while kitchen staff did their best to accommodate my unique-to-them dietary needs. I had a safe, snug home to return to and two excited, happy dogs to greet me. I even appreciate the illness, only because it was a relatively innocuous wake-up call about some of my lifestyle choices.

I'd been so caught up in the busyness of my life that I wasn't making time to just sit still and take notice, relax, or give much to my family and friends. Nearly everything I've done in the past six months has been done in hyperdrive...and I crashed at the end of the ride.

The time in the hospital and this recuperation week at home are gifts. I have actually had an hour or two of boredom, which is rare for me. And thank goodness, I turned the boredom into peaceful reflection and relaxation in my lovely electric shape-shifting hospital bed. It felt so good to sit and do absolutely nothing in my quiet, darkened room.

That's when I realized that I was the author of my illness. I overworked and over-stressed, and ignored myself, family, and friends to a great extent. I'm so grateful that it didn't take a serious, terrifying illness or accident to wake me up. I'm so grateful I have loved ones and generally good health and options.

So I tell this little tale for my sake and, if you're interested, yours. Don't wait until you get knocked flat, like I did, before you notice what's happening. Stop whatever you're doing right now and look around you. Notice one lovely thing. Appreciate one comfort or challenge. Give somebody nearby a smile or a kind word. Send loving thoughts to somebody. Breathe deeply five times, say thanks...and then go ahead, get back to whatever you were doing. It might just seem richer than it did a few moments ago.

I've just done this, and I intend to do it more often. I intend to make some changes, because it's in my control to look after myself so that I can be of some use to others and appreciate the joy in life.

I hope you make a wonderful day.

Never Too Late

Monday, January 17, 2011

For the past several months I've been teaching a number of college and community courses for adults -- primarily lifeskills, computers, and English. Over the years, my students have ranged in age from 16 to 70+. Every time I teach another course, I'm encouraged, awed, and renewed by those who risk moving forward.

It often takes courage to go back to school after being away. People wonder if they can do it. They wonder if they'll be laughed at for being "too old" for school. Some they don't really know what they'll be dealing with or exactly how it might help them, while others have a definite plan. As with many things, people's confidence covers a spectrum from near-terror to absolute certainty.

Many, many of my students over the years have met the challenges of returning to school as an adult and have then continued to meet more. They've learned that they're smarter than they thought and that asking for help is smart, too. Some have made friends, found entirely new directions to pursue, felt proud to provide an example for their children and grandchildren. Just as importantly, some have learned that school is not the best choice for them, not at that moment, anyway.

I take my hat off to anyone who decides to learn something new, in any setting, for any reason, at any time. Keep up the good work (and play).

A quotation

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Cultivate everything

that brings you some joy

in being alive.

– from Carl Jung's letters

Word Wonder -- depression

Friday, October 8, 2010

depression
2. Low spirits or vitality; dejection; melancholy. 3. A low or depressed place or surface; a hollow. 7. A deep dejection of spirit characterized by withdrawal, lack of response to stimulation, etc.    [From the ancient Indo-European root per-, meaning "to strike." The word "depression" comes from "depress," which stems from the Old French depresser and the Latin deprimere: de- meaning "down" + primere meaning "to press."] -- Funk & Wagnall's Canadian College Dictionary and Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary, Tenth Edition.

To press down. Dejection. Hollow. These words certainly describe depression. It can strike as if from nowhere, or it can follow terrible life events. The stricken person feels a weight pressing down on the chest. Emptiness and lethargy make even the simplest movements difficult. Staring into space or sleeping through the day can seem like the only available choices. Heaviness prevails.

When it feels like one's very life force has turned to sludge or, worse, vanished altogether, "doing" is out of reach. Existing is a challenge. Enduring best describes how the minutes and hours crawl by, and one's surroundings become irrelevant.

Some do not survive the morass of depression. I don't know why. Some do, but I don't know why that is, either. What I do know is that during depression, a beautiful day feels like an insult and that after depression, similar beauty feels like a gift. Dispirited becomes re-spirited. I don't know why, but I have learned that "why?" is often a pointless, even damaging question.

I have heard some people say that during bad times their spirit left them. They lost their spirit, their connection with their Source. I haven't found that to be the case for me. I have definitely felt lost in empty, hollow depression; but for a long time, no matter how I've felt, I have believed that while we may forget about or lose the feeling of our Spirit, we cannot truly lose it, whatever "Spirit" may actually be. If we could lose it, how could it be Spirit? Just doesn't make sense to me.

However, depression does make it easier to forget. It makes it hard to care. Maybe the connection seems to be buried in sadness, grief, despair, or fear, but I do not believe Spirit can be lost. And if that's true, then no pit is actually bottomless, no darkness complete. My pits have sometimes felt enormous, and my dark times have been frightening, but I refuse to believe in their absoluteness.

I guess that's the point for me, once again. I have a choice in what I think and believe. I can, and do, apply logic and hope and emotion equally to the task. I look to my body to give me clues. One time I said to someone who was criticizing my beliefs, "Well, I could definitely be wrong. But I choose to spend my life following ideas that encourage me to be a better me."

I'm grateful that at tough times in my own life, heaviness has always passed back into brightness. I trust it will do so again, and I hope it will for you, too.

System Repair

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Last night I got set to do some prep for the courses I'm teaching, and I was feeling a little under the gun, as they say. I sat down, all ready to put in an hour before heading out to a meeting...and my laptop would not start. It had already not started twice before supper, so I'd turned it off to rest and rejuvenate itself. Apparently it didn't help. I was most unhappy.

So this morning, tired and cranky, I held my breath, crossed my fingers, and made a heartfelt request to the Computer Gods: "Please, please, let my laptop work this morning. I really need it." (Translation: I am feeling really needy right now.)

I got myself into the best attitude of belief and positive energy that I could muster. It was rather thin, but it was the best I could do. Opened the lid. Pushed the power button. Saw nothing but black. Again. Then...be still my heart...flashes of light blue, action in the idiot lights, and hope in my heart.

A dialogue box came up. It was called, "System Repair." Oh, blessed, blessed System Repair! I'd never seen such a thing before, but here it was, offering me hope. My little silver laptop began trying to repair itself. It made no promises, but it tried.

As the little blue bar scurried along its path, doing the best it could, I realized I already felt better just knowing my laptop had such a function. And -- personal-growth-cosmic-moment-alert -- I realized I have system repair functions, too.

My body forms scabs and scars when I have a cut. I don't have colds for longer than a week.

When I get too busy and feel pressured so that it's hard to sleep or smile or enjoy anything, my mind finds ways to cope and, in time, slow down. I don't stay utterly crazy eternally.

My emotions self-heal, too. I don't stay irritable or sad forever and ever. I look for and find reasons to be grateful when I'm down in the dumps. I believe in my friends and family most of the time, and this helps me move on from relationship glitches.

So, while my laptop did its thing, I did mine. I decided to notice and say thanks to the Computer and Cosmic Gods for system repair functions of all sorts. Which brings me to this blog post and feelings less stormy and grey than they were before.

Thanks. Miigwetch. Merci. Gracias.

Reinventing Ourselves

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Last week I had a chance to visit with my good high school friend, Sandi, and her husband, Terry Bunker. Since they live in Las Vegas, and I live in Canada, it's a treat to manage a visit once a year.

Terry and Sandi spent their working years as a marriage and family therapist (Terry) and an ESL teacher (Sandi). They combined those careers with raising six children and, somehow, maintaining several investment properties. On the eve of retirement, my friends found themselves in a new and challenging position -- that of accepting responsibility for raising four of their young grandchildren.

This has meant starting up again in the career department...and the personal energy department and the thoughts-about-their-future department. It has meant realigning their dreams with their reality. It has meant feeling at peace about this new direction of their lives, despite the challenges. Maybe because of the challenges. I respect my friends for taking this step with grace and clarity. I admire their positive outlook and the calm, loving care that is evidenced in these good natured children.

Sandi and Terry are reinventing themselves. Did they plan to? No. Are they finding benefits and blessings in their new life? Yes. And that is the point of my musings today.

It's so common for our plans to go awry -- job changes, having to move, death of a loved one, changing relationships, illness or injury, and more.

The unexpected happens because we can't predict everything around us; because we don't plan enough or we plan too much; because we change our minds; because we can't control other people; etc. But the unexpected parts of change do not have to be a problem or a struggle. Most of us need time (and maybe help) to adjust; that's human. But we can choose how we view change. We can choose to use it as a chance to reinvent ourselves.

My friends are doing this. I have done this. You probably have, too. Instead of focussing only on the losses that accompany change, we can focus on the gains. Think of it as a three-part process: 1) Evaluate the Change & the Losses  2) Focus on the Gains  3) Do Whatever You Can to Move Forward.

To use this process, ask yourself a few questions and answer them as thoroughly and deeply as you can. Writing and talking about the questions and your answers can help.

Evaluate the Change & the Losses

• What is the change that has happened to me?
• What will now be different as a result of the change?
• What don't I like about the change/what do I lose because of it?
• What could I do to accept the change and losses?
• What gains can I see as a result of the change?

Focus on the Gains

• What are all the gains I see now?
• How do I feel about these gains?
• What can I do to make the most of each gain?

Do Whatever You Can to Move Forward

• Can I feel and express gratitude for what I had before the change?
• Can I feel and express gratitude, even a tiny bit, for the change and for the gains I now see?
• What actions will I take to make the most of each gain?

Change permeates life. We don't always anticipate or like those changes, but it is certainly in our power to pick ourselves up and move forward. So go ahead. Reinvent yourself, whether you consciously decide to make the change or it jumps up and bites you in the rear end.

Defeat may serve as well as victory
To shake the soul and let the glory out.

                            --Edwin Markham, 1852-1940

Meet a Lively, Helpful Blogger

Friday, August 27, 2010

Where I live, it takes nine or ten hours to catch a movie. The other day, three women friends and I decided to get off the rock and see how well Julia Roberts would bring off the movie Eat, Pray, Love. Two hours to drive to the city, about three hours for the movie, and two or three more for a meal and stops for errands and city-coffee, then two more hours to get home. Fun, but we sure don't do it very often.

One of the women I'd met only once, and I'm really glad I got to know her better on our movie jaunt. Why? Because Christine is a woman who knows  how to have fun, work hard and live her life in meaningful and positive ways. She's an ESL (English as a second language) teacher, a writer, mother and wife. And that's just the stuff I know about.

As we were getting acquainted, I learned that she has a blog, too -- actually two or three of them. Her main blog is called Random Thoughts and Musings from the Island -- Just a bunch of ramblings from a city girl gone country. Christine writes about her adjustments as she moved from Toronto to marry a beef farmer and live on a backroad of our beautiful island. She writes about her risk-laden pregnancy, the birth of their daughter three months early, and two months' worth of life in the NICU. She includes tasty recipes, too.

Everything I liked about Christine when we spent our movie day together comes through in her blog. She's real. She's lively and smart and funny. Without being a navel-gazer (which I certainly am at times), she manages to convey the challenges and the joys in her life in a straightforward way. Like many before her, she took on the major changes required to move from a big city to our small rural community...and she has done so with flare.

If you'd like to hear from another passionate Manitoulin Island resident, a young woman who loves family and friends, then check out Christine's blog: Random Thoughts and Musings from the Island -- Just a bunch of ramblings from a city girl gone country.

Don't Abandon Yourself

Saturday, August 14, 2010

First I apologize to my followers and random-finders for taking so long between posts this month! If you're still checking back, I want to tell you how much I appreciate that. And of course, I hope you'll continue.

Today I want to talk about something I learned this morning from a wonderful young friend of mine, Kerry. We were talking about relationships and personal choices and other good stuff. She used an expression I'd never heard but instantly loved: Don't abandon yourself.

We often hear recommendations like: Take care of yourself. Listen to your inner voice. I say things like that to myself and others, so I obviously believe in such concepts. But "don't abandon yourself"?

Here are some ways I see this affirmation playing out for me:

• When I'm feeling intimidated by another person, I can remind myself that we are both equally loved, loving and lovable. I can choose whatever I need to to lovingly act on that reminder.
• If I feel like I have less value than another person, I don't have to give in to that fearful belief. I don't need to give up on myself or give in to old thinking.
• Sometimes I feel tempted to copy the way someone else does something, even though it doesn't feel right to me. By not abandoning myself in that situation, I would remember to trust my own ways and feelings first. Then, if the other person's method can provide a useful example, I may choose to follow it or adapt it, but not because he or she is better than I am.

I have a feeling that as time goes along this new saying will deepen for me and show up in useful ways. I hope it does for you, too.

It'll Come Out Okay

Monday, August 2, 2010

This weekend has been a busy and fun one because our house was filled with visiting family members -- lots of laughs, conversations, walks and outings. During one of those conversations with my brother-in-law, we moved into the territory of family relationships and other close ties, as he and I like to do. We discussed ways in which tensions can build and explode as well as some less hurtful ways of dealing with those tensions.

Having published a book about difficult close relationships, I sometimes unconsciously (and often consciously) expect myself to respond in the best possible ways at all times and in all situations. As if I know what's best. As if anyone could do that, even if they did know what's best.

So talking with my brother-in-law did, as it usually does, enlighten and lighten me. Here's how he did it this time.

We were talking about a troublesome situation with some people we know, a situation that's been going up and down for quite a while. What happens sometimes affects the two of us directly and sometimes doesn't, but it's generally difficult to witness. At one point he said to me, "It'll come out okay." My immediate internal reaction was, Don't think so.

After a while he talked some more about his optimistic opinion and, fortunately, I was able to hear him with a more open heart and mind this time. It felt like a little tiny door opened up inside me, and I was able to let go of the pessimism that had crept into my thinking. I felt better, and though I have no idea if he's right or not -- it might or might not come out okay -- something of value happened there.

I was reminded that even though I am generally a positive, hopeful, helpful person, I make negative judgements against others. I sometimes assume I know how things should turn out and what people should do or stop doing. Finally recognizing that I don't know all the factors or what's in other people's hearts and minds, I became more able to let go of the outcome.

Stuff like this is great (even though I don't like it when it's happening), because it gives me opportunities to walk my talk, which strengthens my own emotional and attitudinal "muscles." My talk often revolves around people's struggles with relationships and with ourselves. I advocate open-mindedness and open-heartedness and letting go of what we can't control. I co-wrote a book called It's So Hard to Love You -- Staying Sane When Your Loved One is Manipulative, Needy, Dishonest, or Addicted, so if what I write and talk about means anything, I'd better be willing to apply it in my own life.

My brother-in-law's gentle words helped me to do that this morning. I was reminded that it will, in fact, come out okay...even if I don't like or control the outcome. I hope it means greater happiness for unhappy people and clearer thinking in muddy situations, but that's not mine to decide. I can choose, and I do, to enjoy my renewed freedom from resentment and a desire to control others. That enjoyment, in turn, frees me to enjoy my day, mentally get off somebody else's case, and do the best I can for now.

Now, that's walking my talk. Thanks, Bro.

Choose not to Compare

Friday, May 14, 2010

In my morning mental meanderings today, something brought to mind a thing that often happens when someone is going through a difficult time. At least one person will say something like, "Well, think of all the people living in war-torn countries or so-and-so who just lost his whole family, or...," etc. etc. You've probably heard it. Maybe you've said it yourself.

People who say such things intend to help. They think that by getting your mind off your troubles, you'll feel better. They think that if you're reminded of how much worse life can be, your troubles won't seem so bad. Unfortunately, I don't think that's how it works. Statements like these may distract the afflicted person for the moment, but that's not necessarily a helpful part of healing or of dealing with what's going on. In addition, these statements encourage everyone to ignore difficult feelings like sadness, grief, anger and so on. As I've written before, ignoring hard feelings doesn't make them go away; it just makes them go underground. Later, they may very well emerge as headaches, depression, colds, back troubles, cancer, rage, self-pity, and many other peace-blocking symptoms.

So this morning, it occurred to me that one benefit might be found in the statement, "It could be worse. Look at so-and-so's problems." That benefit could be to recognize that in this physical life on this earth, troubles are not uncommon. They happen every day, and they happen to regular people, people just like you and me. So since we're all equally human, there's no reason to expect total lifelong freedom from difficult times. I suppose there might be people who never face calamity and loss, but I don't know too many, if any.

The other possibly helpful part of such statements is to remember that there's no quota on loss and pain. I don't know why, exactly (though I have some theories), but I do believe that's the case. I have certainly, definitely felt like I've had my share, but that doesn't seem to be how it works. When I feel like I'm getting more than my share, I remind myself there's no such thing as "shares." And this is not a depressing thought. I refuse to think and live like a victim anymore. I choose instead to be honest about my hard times and how they affect me. I choose instead to accept that other people will make choices that sadden me or cause me pain...and that I can choose how to deal with that. There is nothing about my "me-ness" that exempts me from experiencing the full range of being human.

Are pain and loss excruciating at times? Yes. Do I wish they'd go away? Yes. Do I sometimes feel like I can't take anymore? I sure do. At those times, I rely on a loved one or my spiritual source to get me through. Some days I can only manage to put one foot in front of the other until it's time to go to bed. I sometimes decide to temporarily ignore my rotten feelings and just keep busy...but I make sure that as soon as I can, I unbusy myself and deal with my feelings.

I do not advocate comparing ourselves and our troubles to someone who is "worse off." However, if you hear such words, you can use them to remember that all humans are human and that we always have choices about how to deal with our humanity.

Rethink Popular Sayings

Sunday, April 18, 2010

When someone is going through a tough time, or when talking to our children, we often offer advice in the form of common sayings:  Look on the bright side. God must have needed her more in heaven than we need her here. Every cloud has a silver lining. Life is short. It takes two to tango. Practice makes perfect. Though we mean well when we say them, we often use such sayings without even thinking much about their meaning or impact.

The trouble with this lack of thought is that it renders many such sayings useless or even harmful. They've become such clichés that they do little more than briefly disturb the airwaves -- unless they actually do damage. How can well-intended words harm anybody? By setting up unrealistic expectations, by glossing over a specific situation, or by ignoring the feelings of the person you say them to. Here's a closer look at few of the sayings I've sited above.

Look on the bright side. This saying is meant to help people focus less on the problem and more on hope and improvement. That's great...most of the time. But sometimes, before a person can look for the positive, happier possibilities, she needs to feel the sadness, anger or disappointment. She might first need somebody to listen so she can process the problem, which is an important part of moving forward. By tossing out this cliché, we might be ignoring what's actually going on for her right now, which can actually make it harder to move forward. Instead, ask questions about what happened and how she's feeling. Give her time to process events and feelings and be available, if you can, when she's ready to start looking on the bright side.

God must have needed him in heaven more than we need him here. When someone is grieving, it can be very hard to know what to say; we're afraid we'll make someone feel worse by saying the wrong thing. In some cultures and communities, grief is "supposed to" be expressed only briefly, if at all. Many of us don't like how we feel when somebody is unbearably sad, so we trot out clichés by way of comforting both of us. But the idea that God needs somebody in heaven can feel pretty irrelevant when your friend is in shock, horror and disbelief about his loved one's death. Offer your friend your caring presence, comfort and simple foods when he's grieving. If you're not sure what to say, silence is an excellent substitute.

Life is short. Intended to aid appreciation and endorse our choices, this saying is actually pretty negative. How about replacing it with something like this: Life is rich, so I choose to enjoy and appreciate it.

Practice makes perfect. A few years ago, I rewrote this saying to read "practice makes better" because the original form sets up unrealistic expectations. Of course, the intention behind "practice makes better" is to encourage effort and determination, which are admirable. However, it also gives the impression that if you try hard enough and are good enough and work, work, work, you can someday be perfect. For many, that's a scary prospect. We can be very good, we can become experts, but perfection can feel too huge to many, so they give up before they even start. Thinking of practice making us better keeps improvement within our grasp.

So, slow down and pay attention to yourself and others. Think about what you say before you say it, and you'll be of genuine help.

Change, Change, Change

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

For many years, I've heard advice telling me to be proud of myself and my accomplishments, to toot my own horn. Up until a couple of years ago, that was very hard for me to do, because even when I felt proud about something I'd done (and feeling healthy pride took me years), the toot-my-horn advice I've heard as an adult would crash into the don't-brag advice I'd heard as a child. Noisy mess, that.

But three years ago my first book was published with a mainstream publisher, and I had to learn to promote it. And, therefore, to promote myself. That was very hard because I felt so shy about the project and the accomplishment of our goals. I wrote the book with one of my brothers, who'd already published a book, so I don't think he had the same qualms about his second one.

Despite my shyness, though, I had to learn to mention it to people, because it was a helping book, and I wanted it to help people. So I learned, first, to respond when others asked about it. I learned to call libraries and set up talks I would give on the book's topic -- dealing with difficult relationships. My natural friendliness and enjoyment of public speaking helped me move to the next level of mentioning the book when people would ask what I'd been doing lately. I got used to hearing myself talk about the writing and publishing process and about my gratitude for the book's success.

It didn't take long for me to recognize that some big changes were taking place. I now talk comfortably (and gratefully) about this accomplishment and about the book that followed it and the one that's in the works now. I learned to feel comfortable with using gifts I'd been given and with receiving attention because of them. I still do internal doubletakes at what's going on, but I enjoy what I'm doing, and I love being able to write stuff that helps somebody in any way -- by encouragement, with a laugh, a good cry, whatever. It turns my crank.

So for me the moral of the story is to continue to be open to change, whether it takes place in myself or in the world around me. If I choose to, I can continue evolving, and -- good news -- I can enjoy it. Change can make me bitter, resentful and stuck in the past, or it can help me be more interesting, useful and conscious. I definitely prefer the latter. What do you choose?

I Choose... - a journal exercise

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

This journal exercise comes from both my own experience and from the book Developing Intuition by Shakti Gawain. About ten years ago I went away by myself for a weekend of R & R. While there, I read and rested a lot, and I wrote. One of the questions I asked myself was, "What do I really want?" With many open pages and hours before me, I started to write. I enjoyed the writing and the whole weekend.

Then about five years later, I happened upon that old notebook and began to thumb through it, reading snippets here and there. And then I came to The Page, the one I'd written on my solo weekend years before. Virtually everything I had written about what I wanted for my relationships, my personal time and my work had come, or was coming, to fruition. I was stunned to realize I was living out what I'd written that weekend.

That experience taught me a lot about my ability to make decisions and then make those decisions come to be. I have since learned that everybody has the same ability to make decisions and make them come to be. Since that first experience, I've more consciously made decisions about what I choose, and many of them have come to fruition. I know others who've done the same. So, give this a shot. Grab a notebook or journal and write about what...

I Choose

Find a quiet place where you can focus for a while -- an hour or so, depending. Try to leave the time open-ended if you can. Ask yourself what you really, really want or want to do. Be specific. (One thing I wrote was "I want to write for a living not just a hobby.") Then -- and this is important -- feel that thing you want. Describe it.

Write about what that dream-plan will look like. What will it feel like physically and emotionally? How will it smell or taste or sound? Immerse yourself in these sensations as you muse and write. If you aren't sure, just imagine it the best you can. Feel it all as if it's happening right now.

Write about what will happen when you do your dream-plan. Where will you be? Who else might be there? If you imagine other people, focus on those who support your dream. Again, feel the feelings, sensations and satisfactions.

Express gratitude for your dream-plan.

As you write, you might encounter negative thoughts or feelings. You might picture other people telling you it can't be done or that you can't do it. In your mind or on your paper, thank those people for their opinions and wave goodbye to them in your imagination (you're not ending a relationship, just an imagined objection). Release them to your spiritual source or to themselves. You can smile at them, knowing your opinion matters more in this exercise.

Once you're done writing, write the date on the entry. Then in the days, weeks, months and maybe years to come, continue to invest in your dream-plan often. Re-read and re-focus on your idea. Re-feel the feelings. Enjoy the satisfactions and express your gratitude, even if you don't see any obvious evidence of it right away. Picture how it will look and be. Keep re-deciding to have or do it.

Mike Dooley, another person I've read and listened to, enlarges hugely on this brief journal exercise. He recommends creating a board or scrapbook full of pictures and words and other items that contribute to the idea you've decided about. I've done this, too, and it helps a lot.

Will you change your life utterly by doing this journal exercise? You could. Will you get everything you've ever dreamed of? Maybe. I don't know the answers to those questions, but I do know that our decisions -- and learning to believe in our decisions -- can take us places we never imagined.

Give it a shot. What do you choose?