Kicking Open the Door

medium_1805045379I’m going to start keeping track of when the word “open” (my word-of-the-year) shows up in my life. Today I was flipping through Sharon Salzberg’s Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation, and the book just opened to this section:

At Bob Dylan’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1988, Bruce Springsteen described hearing Dylan’s music for the very first time. Springsteen was 15, he said, riding in the car with his mother, idly listening to the radio, when “Like a Rolling Stone” came on. It was as though, Springsteen recalled, “somebody took his boot and kicked open the door to your mind.” His mother’s verdict: “That man can’t sing.” Mrs. Springsteen’s response reminds us that we don’t all react the same way to the same experience–and her son’s reminds us that life holds moments when our perspective dramatically shifts, when our assumptions are deeply challenged, when we see new possibilities or sense for the first time that whatever has been holding us back from freedom or creativity or new ventures might actually be overcome.

There are moments when we sense that tomorrow doesn’t have to look like today–that the feeling of defeat that’s been flattening us for what seems like forever can lift, that our anxiety needn’t define us, that the delight we been postponing and the love we long for could be nearer at hand than we’d thought.”

Sharon’s 28-day Meditation Challenge is going on right now. Click here for lots of inspiration and resources.

photo credit: seagers via photo pin CC

Small Blue Thing

Greg and I had planned to go to Kansas City tonight to see Suzanne Vega in concert. She has always been special to us, as we listened to her a lot in the early years of our relationship. We love the images in her lyrics and her simple singing style. When we bought the tickets a few months ago, it seemed so doable. But riding in a car really aggravates my pain, and Kansas City is a three-hour drive. As the time has approached, I realized that it would take a lot out of me–not just the drive, but then sitting for several hours for the concert, sleeping in a strange bed at a hotel, and then another three hours home the next day. To a lot of people, it wouldn’t seem like much. But when you have chronic pain, certain things take their toll and you have to weigh whether it will be worth it or not. A weekend like that would probably take me a month to get back to my normal level of manageable pain. I asked Greg to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 how much he wanted to go. If he had said anywhere from an 7/8 to a 10, I would have gone. But he said a 6. I don’t know if he was being honest, or if he realized it would be hard for me. Anyway, we’re not going, and it’s okay. Really okay. That is the wonderful thing about being married to your best friend. Plans change and it’s okay. We’ll listen to her records instead. Greg is into buying vinyl records now…I think of all the ones we’ve sold at garage sales over the years, and now he’s buying them again 🙂

Here is a video of her performing our favorite song of hers, Small Blue Thing and the lyrics are below (they are not formatting right, and I’m getting frustrated trying to make it work–UGH).

Lyrics:
Today I am
A small blue thing
Like a marble
Or an eye
With my knees against my mouth
I am perfectly round
I am watching you
I am cold against your skin
You are perfectly reflected
I am lost inside your pocket
I am lost against
Your fingers
I am falling down the stairs
I am skipping on the sidewalk
I am thrown against the sky

I am raining down in pieces
I am scattering like light
Scattering like light
Scattering like light

Today I am
A small blue thing
Made of china
Made of glass

I am cool and smooth and curious
I never blink
I am turning in your hand
Turning in your hand
Small blue thing

Month One Update on My Word-of-the-Year

Lily and Larry, basking in the sunlight

Lily and Larry, basking in the sunlight

It’s late January, the temperature is in the low 70s, and the windows are wide open with the curtains blowing. I just noticed Lily and Larry basking in the sun. It made me think of my word-of-the-year, “open”.

So far, me and “open” just aren’t clicking.

I wrote in my first Word-of-the-year post how I was going to be more open at work and try to get to know more of my coworkers. Not a day after I wrote that, we got an e-mail saying that to “conserve agency resources” we were to minimize chatting about things unrelated to work. Now I’m pretty sure this e-mail was not directed at me; however, it raised my anxiety. I can’t believe I’m 50 years old, and I still have this irrational fear of getting into trouble. When I told Greg about it that evening, he challenged me to talk so much that I do get into trouble! So far, that hasn’t happened.

I also wrote that I wanted to be more open to taking risks. I haven’t done too well with this either. Last week, I was asked to give a presentation.  I’ve had a long-standing fear of public speaking, which I have worked hard to overcome. I typically perform quite well in the actual situation, but make myself seriously miserable ahead of time. The last presentation I gave was 2 years ago and I swore I would never do it again. So when this invitation came up, I had an initial sick-to-my stomach reaction. I was proud of myself for being assertive and saying I needed to think about it (I usually just smile and say yes). I was even honest with the person asking me and told her about my anxiety. That was a different response for me. I’m sure I agonized way too much about it: Should I join Toastmasters again? Should I consult with someone who coaches people on their speaking skills?  Was I setting a bad example for people who read my books on shyness and social anxiety if I don’t keep doing things out of my comfort zone?  It was on a topic I knew well, but I realized I would still make myself a neurotic mess over it–-not to mention making my poor husband miserable, as well. Greg asked what it would take for me to want to do the presentation, and I couldn’t think of anything. I ended up saying no. This decision was fairly predictably  followed by days of cycling between feeling awful about myself and struggling to find compassion for myself. And a lot of tears.

Then I got mad. For several days, I wanted to change my word from “open” to “average”. I decided there is too much pressure on people these days to be above average. I get tired of reading that you should dream big (see my Tiny Dreams post). I get tired of reading that anything is possible if you simply put your mind to it. Sometimes I don’t want to have a good attitude. Sometimes I don’t want to think positively. And I’ve had so many fears in my life, I get tired of facing them all. I wonder if I’m up to it anymore.

Today I’m of the mindset that I’ll keep the word “open” as my word-of-the year, but I’m going to give myself some slack. I’m telling myself, “I’m being open to not feeling open.” Doesn’t that count?

Like the warm weather, this too shall pass.

 

Self-Compassion In Practice

One of the best parts of blogging is meeting people from all over the world. Dr. Alice Boyes is a psychologist in New Zealand who also writes at Psychology Today. She just interviewed me for her blog called In Practice. It’s a good overview of my self-compassion project so far. You can read it here.

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My Brother, My Friend, My Hero

I am so excited. I have been waiting to share these videos until I got the okay from my brother. Bill has early-onset Parkinson’s Disease. He’s managed pretty well with medication over the years, even running several half-marathons and completing triathlons. But the medications were wearing off sooner and sooner, so he and his doctor decided the time was right for brain surgery (Deep Brain Stimulation). He had the surgery at Barnes Hospital, a part of Washington University Medical Center, about 8 weeks ago. I don’t want to write out the whole story now (some time I will). Let me just say that my brother is an amazing person! We’ve always been close, and I’m honored that he’s having me document his journey on film. Our end plan is to submit a 5-minute piece to the American Academy of Neurology Film Festival to help raise awareness of brain disorders. These are kind of practice pieces, although I’m sure many of the clips will end up in the final version. And I’ll definitely have a longer version for our family. I did the filming and editing with a little help from my son (who also drove me to St. Louis for Bill’s DBS programming session). I couldn’t have done all the driving myself.  Bill is back to work full-time and training for a 5K on St. Patrick’s Day weekend, and he plans to run a half-marathon close to his 50th Birthday in August.

What’s With the Cane?

A Big Step

Here are a few pictures.

DBS surgery is four to six hours long with the patient awake.

DBS surgery is four to six hours long with the patient awake.

Bill with Dr. Tabbal, one-week post surgery
Bill with Dr. Tabbal, one-week post surgery

Bill completing his first triathlon in 2007.
Bill completing his first triathlon in 2007.

Letting Go, Again

The house is quiet. No guitar or banjo strumming. No pool balls knocking around. We drove our son back to college this afternoon. It took two cars because he has so many instruments! I realize I don’t worry about him nearly as much as I used to, and that is a huge change for me. Now it’s just a gentle tug of the heart, knowing that he’s doing what he’s supposed to be doing, and a big part of that is leaving the nest.
Seeing as how I haven’t been able to get my thoughts together enough to write a coherent blog post for weeks now, I thought I’d share some of Greg’s writing. This is a post he wrote the summer before our son went to college. We had just returned from summer orientation.
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Spreading His Wings
All across the country this summer, parents are accompanying their offspring to college orientations. These programs are designed for parents as much as for students, giving us practice at the next step in “letting go” of our kids.As a psychologist, I have counseled many families in making this transition. I have frequently used the metaphor of birds building a nest, raising their young, and then watching them leave the nest.A few years ago, we had a pair of robins build a nest on the basketball hoop right outside our breakfast room window. We watched the entire process unfold over a few weeks. It was bittersweet as we watched the youngsters fly away. The last one seemed determined to stay in the nest, but ultimately, he too found his wings.

For two steamy days this June, my wife and I accompanied our son to the University of Missouri. We tromped around campus in large groups, with parents and students separated for some programs, reunited for others.

It was hard to believe that, in just 8 weeks, this would become our son’s world. We alternated between excitement and anxiety. We flashed back to all the milestones over the past 18 years.

We attended programs on alcohol and drug abuse, student privacy rights, health issues—each session reminding us that our child is now considered by others, to be an adult. This same child had rarely even spent a night away from our home.

As the day was winding down, we felt some trepidation as our son would be spending his first night in the dorm. Both Barb and I felt unnamed and ambiguous emotions, but we did not speak about it, not wanting to bring forth these feelings.

As we walked with our group toward Jesse Hall, we noticed a tiny, seemingly helpless creature on the sidewalk.

This baby robin looked like it had a serious case of bed head. Its wings were small and undeveloped. It squawked at us and clearly did not even know how vulnerable it was. Barb looked at me and asked, “Shouldn’t we do something?”

I remembered reading that the mother bird stays nearby and may even continue to feed the little one.

I responded, “No, he’ll be okay.” Silently, I repeated that to myself.

This I Know

Are you kind to others but too often harsh with yourself? Do you have an inner critic that refuses to be quiet? If so, you’re not alone.

When I began this project, I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I certainly didn’t have a thought out plan. I simply knew I needed to find a way to be more compassionate to myself.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far (in Q and A format from an interview I did at the one-year mark of this project.)

Why The Self-Compassion Project?

I loved Gretchen Rubin’s The Happiness Project, and I thought the idea of focusing on one thing for an entire year made a lot of sense. I chose self-compassion because I was anything but self-compassionate! I was way too hard on myself. I was perfectionistic. I equated my worth with what I accomplished. And I was battling chronic pain after neck and back surgeries that didn’t work. Trying to motivate myself with the force of a whip just wasn’t working any more.

noname-4What surprised me most?

The thing that surprised me the most is how quickly I was able to become more compassionate toward myself. I looked back over my notes, and in just a month’s time, my scores on a self-compassion test (http://www.self-compassion.org/test-your-self-compassion-level.html) had improved considerably.

Tuning in to my inner self-talk and focusing on changing what I was saying to myself really helped. I heard Dr. Kristen Neff, a leading researcher on self-compassion, speak at a workshop and she said her research showed that informal self-compassion practices were turning out to be just as helpful as the formal practices, such as meditation. I think that can give people hope—even if your self-criticism is deeply ingrained over time, you can still change, and it doesn’t have to take years.

What effects has increasing self-compassion had on your behavior, relationships etc.?

I have always tended to be a big worrier, and I’ve found that I’m worrying a lot less. I’m not sure how that ties in with self-compassion, but it’s definitely something I’ve noticed. I also feel like I’m more in touch with how I’m not alone—that even when I’m going through a rough patch and it feels like I’m the only one who has ever experienced this—well, that thought goes away more quickly and transforms into a tenderness for myself and for others who may be going through a similar situation.

What’s your favorite way to explain what giving yourself self-compassion is/isn’t?  

My favorite way to explain giving yourself compassion is the analogy of how you would treat a small child. Let’s say your child is learning to walk. After a few wobbly steps, do you criticize him or her and say, “Look at you. You’re so clumsy. What’s wrong with you that you can’t walk yet.”? Of course not. You offer encouragement. You’re excited! You might even clap your hands in delight.

Now let’s say your child wants to eat candy for dinner. You set limits and say, “no” because only eating candy will likely make your child feel sick and it simply isn’t healthy. People mistakenly think that self-compassion always means saying “yes” to yourself. Sometimes it means saying “no”–but doing so with kindness. It’s important to remember that self-compassion involves nurturing and limit-setting.

noname-1What are three self-compassion techniques you plan to keep using?

1. One technique I use daily is a gentle touch on my skin (maybe touch my forearm with my other hand) while I say something reassuring to myself. The touch actually releases oxytocin and sets off a calming response in the body. I discretely do this at work when I’m stressed (at home I may give myself a big hug!)

2. I often combine the self-compassionate touch with a phrase or self-compassion mantra, such as: “This is a moment of suffering; suffering is a part of life; may I be kind to myself and give myself what I need.” I have tried meditating and do it sometimes. I’m not very consistent, but I’m going to keep trying.

3. I do a lot of informal mindfulness practice. I never used to take breaks—it was always work, work, work. Now I go outside and simply appreciate the beauty around me. This helps me connect with a greater good, and I end up feeling softer and gentler with myself. I have really gotten into bird watching!

Oh, and one other technique I use is to write myself little “love notes” to keep in my purse. It’s usually just a few quick sentences I want to remember during the day to stay focused on self-compassion.

For someone who wants to try self-compassion, is there something easy you can suggest starting with?

I’m a big self-help book junkie, so if you can, I’d read Kristin Neff’s book on self-compassion. She also has a lot of information on her website (www.self-compassion.org) you can read and listen to for free. I’d also suggest starting by keeping a log of the things you say to yourself. Then ask yourself, “Is this how you would talk to a friend?” Remember that even subtle changes can make a big difference.

Photos by Greg Markway.

 

Imperfection

photo taken by Greg after a recent ice storm

photo taken by Greg after a recent ice storm

I found this on a Google list serve about self-compassion. It is too perfect (irony caught) not to share.

IMPERFECTION

I am falling in love
with my imperfections
The way I never get the sink really clean,
forget to check my oil,
lose my car in parking lots,
miss appointments I have written down,
am just a little late.

I am learning to love
the small bumps on my face
the big bump of my nose,
my hairless scalp,
chipped nail polish,
toes that overlap.

Learning to love
the open-ended  mystery
of not knowing why

I am learning to fail
to make lists,
use my time wisely,
read the books I should.

Instead I practice inconsistency,
irrationality, forgetfulness.

Probably I should
hang my clothes neatly in the closet
all the shirts together, then the pants,
send Christmas cards, or better yet
a letter telling of
my perfect family.

But I’d rather waste time
listening to the rain,
or lying underneath my cat
learning to purr.

I used to fill every moment
with something I could
cross off later.

Perfect was
the laundry done and folded
all my papers graded
the whole truth and nothing but

Now the empty mind is what I seek
the formless shape
the strange  off center
sometimes fictional
me.

Elizabeth Carlson : Source: Teaching With Fire

New Thoughts for the New Year

There is so much good writing out there, and it seems like everyone was inspired to write at the end of the year. Here are some excerpts from some of the favorite posts I read.

Life Isn’t a Calendar, by Jenna McGuiggan, a writer, editor, and creativity coach. You can find her over at The Word Cellar.

The calendar days are tidy squares lined up in orderly rows, everything numbered to provide a false sense of linearity. It tricks us into thinking life is this way. Choose a word, set an intention, make a goal. Move forward, declare DSC_0044accomplishment. Make another list and tick it off step-by-step. But life is not a calendar or a list or a ladder you can climb rung-by-rung. Life is the ebb and flow of ocean tides, the sunlight and dappled shadow of forest paths, the contrast of white snow on evergreen boughs. Life is the overcast sky of winter that blurs the line between day and night, and the long June days when golden light seeps well into the night. Life is now. It’s the driveway that needs shoveling, the dishes that need washing. It’s the candles you light, the books you read, the tea you drink, the people you kiss. It’s the lists you make and the ones you forget. One step forward, two steps back, and three to the side for good measure.

In three days I’ll turn the page to another year, but I’ll know that this is just one way of keeping time. There are other ways to make sense of things, to pay attention to what matters.

The Art of Letting Go, by Lisa Lorden Myers, an author and fibromyalgia/chronic fatigue sufferer who works passionately to help others cope with chronic illness.

It’s funny how determination and will power can be so difficult to apply to the goal of doing less, instead of doing more.  We may know how to commit ourselves to goals and work to achieve them, but can we have similar determination to rest and to heal?  Can our will power be devoted to “letting go”?  Perhaps the New Year is a time to re-focus ourselves less on doing, and more onbeing.

Healing requires no resolutions—it requires only that we live each day the best way we know how, listening to our bodies, and nurturing our souls.

The Top Ten Resolutions Nobody Will Keep from Toni Bernard, author of How to Be Sick and Psychology Today blogger.

Every year I torture myself by making New Year’s Resolutions that I don’t keep. So, as a public service, in order to save you the trouble of letting yourself down yet again, I offer the Top 10 New Year’s Resolutions that Nobody Will Keep:

(she lists 10, so be sure and read the whole article, but my personal favorite is #9)

Number 9: I will maintain a positive attitude.

I learned from another Psychology Today writer that this is known in the therapeutic trade (of which I’m not a member) as “the tyranny of positive thinking.” Hurray! It’s okay not to always be positive. I think I’ll toss this resolution out straight away.

I had the privilege of interviewing Toni last year. You can read it here.

Rilke Always Says It Best, posted on Barbara Storey’s blog, Storeylines: One Person, Many Lives

And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious and great things.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

I hope the first week of 2013 treated you well!

Open

Photo by Tom Haymes via Flickr (cc)

Photo by Tom Haymes via Flickr (cc)

So many people have already posted their word for the year, and as usual, I’m a few steps behind. Oh well. My word for the upcoming year is Open. Greg actually suggested the word to me. He said, “What about the word open?” and I immediately said, “Nah…”  There I was shooting down an idea before I really thought about it. Not very open of me. And here’s another interesting tidbit. I finally decided that Open was going to be my word. Then today I clicked on Ali Edward’s Word of the Year blog, and she had just announced that her word for 2013 is Open. I felt a little deflated. She took my word! But that’s okay. I’m sure there’s enough space (openness) in the world for us both to have the same word.

I’m sure my word will take on lots of new meanings over the course of the year, but here are a few of the things I’m hoping I can do:

Open to possibilities. I tend to get locked down in my thinking…not being able to see there may be many paths, many ways of doing things, if I’m only open to seeing things in a new way. I also think I may be on the brink of some changes in my professional life, and I want to be open to seeing that there may be many ways I can share my talents.

Open  to taking risks. I’m quite risk aversive. I  have to push myself to try new things. My worry brain is always telling me to play it safe. I really don’t have anything in mind when I think about risks, but we’ll see what happens. I may surprise myself and do something crazy.

Open myself up to people. I used to be painfully shy–not so much anymore, but I’m still a through-and-through introvert. I don’t let too many people really get to know me. And if I do, it takes a long time. I can work at a place for years and barely make a dent in getting to know my coworkers. I want to make a conscious effort to change this and share more of myself with others. I need to make a few more friends, too. It’s kind of  hard to find friends when you’re fifty.

I’m excited about the word Open. It’s a noun. It’s a verb. It’s an adjective. It’s a Superword!

The very word itself implies adaptation and flexibility, two things I need more of in my life.

And in the spirit of flexibility, any variation on the word open is okay. I like the word openness, too. Here’s a great quote I found on Good Reads.

Let go of certainty. The opposite isn’t uncertainty. It’s openness, curiosity and a willingness to embrace paradox, rather than choose up sides. The ultimate challenge is to accept ourselves exactly as we are, but never stop trying to learn and grow.” ― Tony Schwartz