Category Archives: New Year Resolutions

FOMO: Yeah, You Will

And, there is another email from one of my favorite art supply sources, informing me that it’s my last chance – this is it! – the sale ends SOON. Don’t miss out!

A cheerful newsflash:  you’re gonna miss out. A lot. On almost everything. All the time. Me, too. And unlike my art supply source, life doesn’t cycle around the same offer over and over.

Therapists get to spend a lot of time on other people’s lives. We’re expected to be helpful, and that often means saying things people do not wish to hear.

I am grateful to be supervising two gifted therapists-in-training during their post-grad work, and recently in the monthly session when we meet all together, as opposed to their individual meetings, the subject of peacefulness in relationships, in homes, in lifestyle, came up in the context of our work.

One thought I have, not often well-received, is that some people fear peace. I don’t mean “peace” as in no war. I mean personal peacefulness. This peace grows out of daily reflection, perhaps while doing chores or sipping your coffee or taking that daily walk or run. An interior peacefulness can develop. You find that you can let go of always being right, of having to assert your will in situations that really don’t concern you, and the peacefulness of accepting you cannot do, or have, it all.

I believe some people fear that a peaceful existence means missing out. They believe that choosing peace means sitting around passively.

A peaceful heart doesn’t preclude all sorts of exciting activities and situations. It does mean far less bickering, inane power struggles, resentment and bitterness. A peaceful person might love skydiving or white water rafting, but they won’t get into an argument about petty details like who gets to load versus empty the dishwasher.

If someone regularly allows time in silence, they enter reality: that life passes quickly. It is easy, even for a kind person, to rack up lots of regrets for words unspoken or help not offered. They strive to do better. They listen carefully to what old people say about what they do, and do not, regret. If we are lucky, we will get to be that old.

Supposedly, elderly people (and I am now one, or on the cusp) say they regret more of what was undone, rather than what was done. Some people interpret this to mean, do more stuff. But that’s not quite right; I suspect the meaning, for each of us, is quite personal and significant. It’s not a generic recommendation to just do more stuff, faster, and collect experiences. It means that there are things that ought to have been done and were left undone – particular things, things painful to regret. Too much work, not enough attention to loved ones, opportunities missed because of a focus on something superficial. Perhaps, daily quiet allows us to notice those things before chances slip ineluctably into the night. Some doors close, faster than we’d ever expect, and will not reopen.

Have such a seemingly large proportion of people always been so terrified of quiet and anxious about missing out? I don’t know. It probably was harder for our ancestors to avoid quiet. No earbuds to fill your head with other people’s thoughts while you’re planting or reaping, no devices to distract you with endless videos when unpleasant tasks await. No artificial sense of urgency because we will miss out. Our ancestors assumed one could not have/do/experience “it all.” Some might have gone mad trying, but healthier people strove to find meaning and purpose, and therefore happiness, in the normal facets of human life: loving relationships, meaningful pursuits and service to others.

I don’t take time for silence, but I’m listening to educational podcasts, someone argues with me. Yes, I do, too – many of my CEUs are long and complicated lecture series that I take in over many sessions on the stationary bicycle. It’s also important to have quiet, to have times when other people’s words are not crowding out my ability to think, to notice what’s been going on around me, how I think and feel about things, what meaning to derive and what action to take.

Because when it comes to the big things, the few beautiful things I discern belong in the narrow slice of life I am allotted, I have a tremendous fear of missing out.

That’s Smart!

Ah, a new school year, and just past the middle of the year, when New Year’s resolutions can seem long ago and mildly embarrassing, like an old yearbook picture.  It’s a time when we talk to young people about their goals.

A former professor advised us, never take your professional knowledge for granted. When you know something long enough, it might start seeming “obvious,” although it is not. We adults can take for granted the training we received in establishing a goal and then reverse-engineering to the first step, second step, etc.  We’ve known it so long, we forgot. We forgot we ever had to learn it. We take it for granted, like knowing how to sort the laundry or check the air in our tires. You set goals and strategize backwards all the time. Imagine it’s going to be your turn to host Thanksgiving. Without calling it “goal setting,” you have probably already figured out what needs to be done, and approximately when, as well as what you will do about that one family member who never brings what they promised in the family chat. You probably don’t think of planning Thanksgiving dinner in terms of “SMART” goals (specific, measurable, achievable, relevant and time-constrained) or in terms of identifying possible roadblocks and necessary alternative plans. You probably don’t think about it as “goal setting” either, when you decide you’ll clean up the yard next weekend and gather necessary materials such as big plastic bags, so you’re ready to go.

Children, however, have to learn this set of skills. They need coaching. That coaching is not “criticism” but is instead helping them develop the mental skill of breaking down goals into steps to be taken. Sometimes, people think questioning the “how” is criticizing the goal. Developing the “how” is essential to reaching a goal.

If someone working with me says, ‘I want to be able to join friends in walking the New Year’s Day 5K event,’ as a goal they would like to reach, I will be full of questions that are meant to help them. For example, what is their walking routine now? What medical guidance have they had, if any, on how to increase their fitness? How much time do they think they can give to improving their walking distance and stamina? Do they tend to be more consistent when other people are part of the plan, or do they prefer to fly solo? When roadblocks occur (weather, travel, or illness, for example), what tends to help them get back on track? These questions are not critiques, they’re vital information if someone is going to develop a plan that is appropriate that brings them, step by healthy step, towards a goal.

If you have young people in your life, be encouraging and supportive, and help them learn to ask themselves the questions you have about the roadmap to their goals.

Quitter’s Day Part 3: Know Thyself

Micro? Macro? Or just bored?

Toe in the water, a cannonball dive, or just hanging out poolside?

Do you go for a haircut and, if it’s a new-to-you-stylist, ask for a half-inch trim so you can find out whether they actually listen and measure – or just grin and say, “Do whatever you want”? That’s your small vs big change preference in a nutshell. Then there’s never making any change that isn’t forced upon you by circumstances, like that little mishap when you to do layers like the stylist you follow on YouTube.

Because, if you’re a small-change person and you tried to take on too much in one step, you may become overwhelmed. Small-change people are often big-picture people: they see a small change (spend fifteen minutes a day learning a new language, for example), and immediately realize that fifteen minutes comes from … somewhere. And somewhere ought to be figured out so nothing important is accidentally left out. A small-change person will do better with a small and carefully planned step into change, and build from there.

But … if you’re a big-change person and you tried to make a small change, perhaps you got bored. It seemed hardly worthwhile. In that case, experiment with suiting your temperament.

Or maybe you just got discouraged because persistence with any change – big or small – can be difficult. Being persistent, sticking with the essentials, isn’t easy for most people. If it were, we wouldn’t marvel at the accomplishments of those who have developed outstanding skills in any particular domain. We know “outstanding” takes persistently showing up and doing the work.

Whatever the reason – too much, too little, just bored – maybe this week do a reboot that suits your temperament as an experiment, and see what happens.

Quitter’s Day Part 2

So … a week since the second Friday of January, what is sometimes called “Quitter’s Day,” for the frequent demise of New Year’s Resolutions. If you’ve given up, or fallen off track, every moment is potentially a new start.

Perhaps you need something a little more manageable: a small step instead of a massive change. Here’s a second suggestion, building on last week’s short post, for a small but potentially life-changing experiment. If you’re not already doing this, get outside in natural light early in the day – as soon after sunrise as you can manage, and, if it’s feasible, again at day’s end. Follow the sunset session with softer lighting indoors; night is not the time for blindingly bright lights. By getting early daylight, end-of-day light and softer, warmer indoor lighting, you will set your brain up for a more natural, sleep-friendly chemistry. With some sources citing 40% of adults having insomnia or other sleep problems, experimenting with the benefits of the right light at the right times could be well worth it!

Quitter’s Day – part 1

On New Year’s Day morning, Fr. Mike noted in his homily to those of us at early Mass that the second Friday in January is known as “Quitter’s Day,” because by then 80% of people would have quit their New Year’s Resolutions.

Perhaps you find yourself in the 80%. If so, may I suggest considering one or more short experiments – trying on a change, for a week or two – and assessing its usefulness for you. These are simple but not easy.

If making such changes were “easy,” we’d be a country overflowing with clear-thinking, peaceful, energetic, well-rested and generous-hearted people. Based on my 15-minute daily ration of news, that seems to not quite be the case.

Starting with the most basic – the marker of life at birth – breathing, which turns out to be something that we so easily can get wrong. If you are in good health and your medical provider doesn’t object, you might experiment with a practice of better breathing. This can be as simple as practicing slow, deep breathing for a few moments three times a day and then as needed when you want to calm yourself.  Breathe comfortably, slowly and deeply, so that the belly expands, rather than a quick, panting breath. Breathing out through the nose can help. “Slow” doesn’t mean make yourself dizzy or lightheaded; it means comfortable and relaxed. This kind of breathing impacts the nervous system in the abdomen and signals the brain to slow down its fight-or-flight, anxious mode.

It’s an experiment that you might try early in the morning, again when you shift gears between day and evening, and at bedtime.  You can find plenty of tutorials online with demos on relaxation breathing. If you have any medical conditions, of course, be sure that this is safe for you by consulting your healthcare provider.

Some people find this very useful as part of changing between activities, such as stopping work for lunch or at day’s end; before a stressful activity such as a presentation or dealing with a negative person; and when preparing for rest at night.

Thanks for reading!

In Autumn, the Truth is Revealed

In autumn, the truth comes out.

And by autumn, I mean any autumn. Autumn the meteorological season before winter; Autumn on the calendar; Autumn in our life span; and Autumn in the liturgical year.

In every case, if you step back far enough, you can see the patterns. The photo op brilliant foliage reveals what was there all along, shaped by experience.  In spite of the sometimes-brutal clarity of autumn, I love this time of year.

Deciduous trees that turn yellow, gold and orange in autumn are not so much changing color as revealing the color that has been resting underneath, hiding under the green of chlorophyll. As the days grow shorter and cooler, chlorophyll production decreases. The leaves have always been golden. The trees have experiences, and these matter, too. Perhaps there has been plenty of rain and the soil is rich, or perhaps a hurricane has blown off so many small branches that the tree suffers malnutrition from a lack of chlorophyll. Then, too, if it is the sort of tree that turns red, its intensity will be impacted by sugars manufactured and stored; more sweetness makes for a more brilliant red.

In October or November, looking back at the resolutions, motto, word or intentions for the new year, the truth is revealed. In March one might kick that can down the road; even in June there is still “plenty of time.” But in autumn, reality comes to visit. We either did, or did not, step up and out into the life we intended to try to make. The combination of who we are (like it or not) and the experiences thrown at us by life bring the outcome we assess in the autumnal review of our intentions for the year. I’ve had the same motto for years now because apparently I’m a slow learner.

In the mirror, in the season of life poets call autumn, we see the person we have been all along, plus our experiences. The smoothness and sameness of youth is gone for those in midlife and later; laughter and tears, pain and care, habits – good and bad – all are revealed. A twenty-five-year-old might hide bad habits, but by forty-five, the entire body shows the pattern and at sixty-five, odds are the mind and spirit are far from what they promised to become before a bad habit became an addiction. On the other hand, there can be an explosion of energy, creativity and spiritual growth at in the autumn of life that startles those who mistook the responsible behaviors of younger years for that person being “boring.” This is when adult children wonder if their parents have gone a bit crazy – taking up new hobbies, traveling, refusing to be properly “old.” No, they were never actually boring, just busy with lifegiving, the drive that Erikson called “generativity,” that leads people to make sacrifices for others, and trees to manufacture food out of sunlight to nourish themselves and the seeds for future trees.

And then the liturgical year winds around, ending about four weeks before Christmas, with the Scripture readings for the last few weeks focused more and more on the last things – our own death, the final judgment, the need to take account of how we are living and make changes in accord with the highest good.  How appropriate that this unveiling of the reality beneath happens in such a pervasive way – that we are offered the chance see ourselves, our year, our years in total, through the same golden lens.

Happy mid-autumn; wishing you all the golden light the season offers.

It’s Just an Experiment

You know how it is. You want to make a change. Something needs to change. Maybe the kitchen needs organizing, or you need to sleep better, or be less stressed…whatever it may be. You want to get it “right.” And that’s where the freeze happens. “Right.  It has to be right.”

But what if there’s no way to know what is right for you without experimenting?

For all the chatter the past few years about science, and following science, there seems to be a misunderstanding of what science is. Science is more of a verb that a noun. It has more in common with, Hey, let’s try THIS and see what happens, than with learning a few things and deciding that’s it – that’s all there is to know.  You can see the difference in real time when SpaceX runs another experiment with the super heavy and the personnel there are excited about how much they’re learning and thus able to improve, while some people in the press call it a “failure.”  No, “failure” would be not doing or, having done, failing to study and learn. That’s failure.

At an individual level, let’s say you decide to take guitar lessons. You have no idea how to do anything with a guitar, but it’s been a long-time dream. Unless you are younger than five, you surely wouldn’t pick up the guitar, strum at it, and wonder why you didn’t sound like Carlos or Angus or Eric or Brian or whomever. You would have to spend many hours, experiment after experiment, building and reinforcing the new neural connections and fine motor skills that lead to the ability to play guitar. You would not call the outcome after the first, or tenth, or thirtieth, lesson a “failure,” properly, unless you gave up in impatient disgust and stuck the guitar in the closet, where it will peek at you through the clothes hanging in front of it and reproach your surrender until you sigh and try again or give the guitar away.

If you are looking at making a change, and feeling stuck, reframe what you are doing as experimenting.  Move the coffee mugs to that cabinet, over there, closer to the coffee maker, and see how you like it.  Buy a battery-operated alarm clock and leave your phone in the kitchen overnight for a few weeks and see what happens. Try turning screens off during meals, or leaving the audio off in the car, for a month or so.

Start the experiment, and then pay attention. That’s a critical part of an experiment. What happens in the absence of the old behavior? What seems better? What’s harder? What is your theory on why it’s better or worse? Can you build another little experiment – not a long-term commitment – on this one? It’s an experiment, for goodness’ sake, not a marriage.  That is science, and that is a way to get unstuck, make changes and work around any lurking perfectionism.

What’s up with that?

Why do you do what you do?

No, seriously. Why do you do what you do, whatever it is that you do?

Could you get a bit obsessive about this question? I suppose so. But it is worth asking, over and over again.

You got out of bed at whatever time it was. Why? For what purpose?

Why did you eat and drink what you ate and drank? Or, why did you choose not to eat?

What did you put on your body to wear out into the world, to tell other people about you, your tastes, and your intentions?  Why those messages, and not some other messages? Why are those the messages you choose to give to the world?

Why did you go to work? Why did you choose that work?

Why did you behave that way, and not some other way, towards whatever persons you encountered along the way?

Why, why, why, why.  Sometimes it is important to take a step back and ask that defense-raising question of yourself, repeatedly, digging in.

Well, why, you might ask, and it is a worthwhile question.  Asking ourselves “why” is very important, because, if we drill down far enough, we come down to whether or not we have decided upon a central principle, a guiding ethic, a core belief that allows us to direct our behavior with cohesion and authenticity towards our purpose.  If you don’t have a “why,” you are less focused than the average toddler. A toddler can be remarkably determined in pursuing her goals, despite an inability to clearly articulate the “why” for coloring on the walls or giving Teddy Bear a bath in the toilet. 

For religious people, the central “why” comes down to a covenantal relationship with the Lord and, for Christians, a relationship with Jesus, the Christ.  That is the “why.”

Why get out of bed on time? Because an orderly life (ordered to what is best) requires self-discipline and routine, and honoring one’s legitimate commitments to others.

Why be kind to the barista, the cashier, the slowly shambling person in front of you on the sidewalk? Because they, like you, are a child of God and your rooted relationship with Him requires you to treat others as His children, too.

Why be honest with someone when you know it will be ill-received – the student whose work is apparently plagiarized, the employer asking you to do the unethical, the adult family member who is drinking in excess? Because it is important to be truthful, to not allow dishonesty to muddy the waters of relationships and to let yourself slip into that mud out of fear of conflict. Because your relationship with the Lord requires you to act honestly, justly, and with love.

Wishing you a new year full of the joy of discovering beautiful “why’s” in your life!

Meet Them Where They Are

Three times each year, our parish runs Alpha, an eleven week program for people who are open to exploring the basics of Christianity, starting with elemental questions such as, Is there more to life than this?, or Why should I believe in God? The chair of the committee running this, and our other evangelization programs, was accosted by a fellow parishioner after Mass one morning. The parishioner had a list of grievances, particularly that the program wasn’t “Catholic,” citing various deficits, in the complainant’s mind, such as a lack of Marian theology. Besides her apparently unchristian behavior, she had missed the point of meeting people where they are. Many people are skeptical about the existence of God because they have been sold a bill of goods about faith and science being incompatible; it is hardly useful to wrestle them into a dialogue about the Blessed Mother and the Virgin Birth, or Transubstantiation. We must meet them where they are. They are wondering if there is a reason to believe in anything or any One, and rushing somewhere else won’t help; it simply truncates the conversation before it begins.
Just so, in our daily lives, we must meet people where they are…
It may well be that the child you permitted to walk all over you is now grown, or nearly so, and the rudeness and demanding behaviors that you thought were funny at age 2, and tolerable at age 4, are grinding you down now that the child is 18 or 21 or 30. It does little good to beat yourself up because you were not willing to foresee this problem; you need to deal with the situation as it exists, or choose not to (and continue to be ground down by caustic, toxic offspring). Attempting to have what you think is a perfectly reasonable conversation about your expectations and anticipating you will receive thoughtful, considerate responses is, well, sad and silly. You will have to meet them where they are: as a very large toddler who needs clear rules and near-immediate consequences. You will also have to have a plan as to how you will cope with an adult having a temper tantrum. There will be displeasure about any limits you set:
“We are no longer going to pay for your cell phone. You can come with me to [provider’s storefront] after work on [specify date] to switch the number to a new account in your name, or I will simply close that number.” You will hear how unfair this is, how unreasonable – you know how much their student loan payments are, right? – and how ridiculous and selfish it is for you to bring up their prodigious spending on entertainment and other technology.
“You are an adult, and this is our home. No more overnight guests.” Well, this is unfair, too; how are they supposed to, well, whatever? Other people’s parents are reasonable. Besides, it’s the 21st century; what’s next, bundling?
…and so it goes. You will get pushback and you will either stay firm – something apparently quite difficult, because if it came naturally, you would have put a stop to this behavior, oh, say, 20 or 25 years ago.
Many people are unhappy about the state of their marriages, and there, too, is a problem that is best met where it is. The typical couple puts their relationship almost entirely aside when children come along, neglecting it sorely, and then are surprised, dismayed and resentful at the state of things. They barely speak; they have nothing in common; each wonders, how could I have chosen such a miserable person? The relationship is anemic, neglected, and easily startled; like a once-beloved pet banished to the back yard pen for months or years, it hardly knows how to behave in the house. Treat it with gentleness, patience, and consistency. The friendship must be rebuilt; meet that process with good will rather than sarcasm and cynicism. Use Gottman’s research and books; use Chapman’s 5 Love Languages; use a good therapist: do something, be consistent, and begin at the beginning, with careful nurturing of the abandoned friendship. Perpetual complaints about what it “should” be like are worse than useless; just meet the marriage where it is.
You may need to meet yourself where you are, too.
You might like the idea of being physically fit, self-disciplined: the sort who enjoys vegetables and exercise. That’s all very nice…and, if it is not true, you will have to meet yourself where you are and begin teaching the actual you – not the imaginary, idealized version of you in your head – how to be self-disciplined, how to gradually become physically fit, and how to appreciate the subtle flavors of vegetables after assaulting your senses with however many years of packaged and fast foods.
Perhaps your vision for yourself is more spiritual. You might like the idea of yourself as a truly good person, the kind of person who enjoys engaging in loving service, doing without for others, and understands what it is people are talking about when they discuss having a “prayer life.” Meanwhile, you are stuck with a few rote prayers and still think Job and Jonah are supposed to be historical reports. Well, you must meet yourself where you are. If your spiritual training ended at 7, or after your Confirmation, Bat Mitzvah or Bar Mitzvah, your stunted spiritual age is where you begin.
Meeting ourselves, and others, where they are doesn’t mean “settling” unless you are content to stay there. It can mean having a real conversation, and a real chance for positive change. Flashes of insight are not change; they are the precedent of change. Change happens only where we are.

Way 31/Day 31: Make it a great year: Ask for feedback…and use it

Some of us remember former NYC Mayor Ed Koch, who would famously ask, “How am I doing?” and get loud feedback from everyday people nearby. That seems useful for someone who is a public servant. For most of us, just randomly asking strangers how we’re doing seems more irrational than reasonable.

We all have people close to us, though, who do have a sense of how we’re doing, and perhaps more than we do. “Jane” thinks she’s doing fine, and managing well, but her husband “Joe” sees that she is frazzled, irritable, and apt to burst into tears of helpless frustration every couple of days. Meanwhile, “Joe” thinks his Ironman training is going fantastically – and doesn’t realize that he is nodding off mid-conversation, grouchy and distracted during what little time he does find for family. The conversation is likely to become pretty unpleasant, very quickly, if they decide to sit down and tell each other what they need to do differently or what seems “wrong with you.”

It’s hard to do, but asking someone for honest feedback – someone whom you can trust to describe what they observe without slamming you or criticizing you – can be a real insight into how we seem to be doing. It’s information, after all, and, if you trust the source, it merits careful reflection – not immediate rejection. If Jane comments, gently, on Joe’s tendency to be exhausted and grouchy, he might tend to imagine he’s hearing a death-knell for his Ironman dream. No, he’s hearing that something about the balance of training, work, and home life is leading to his being so tired that the people who love him miss his (awake, ungrouchy) presence. How can he get some of that back for all of them, including himself? If Joe expresses concern about Jane’s seeming awfully stressed out these days, she is apt to hear still more criticism and feel defensive, when she’s really hearing concern.

Find one, or two, or three, people whose feedback you can trust to be in your best interest and fairly accurate…and at least take it into consideration. Better yet, sincerely try it on and see if it fits, and if so…use it.

Make it a great year!

Dr. Lori Puterbaugh

© 2016

Posts are for information and entertainment purposes only and should not be construed to be therapeutic advice. If you are in need of mental health assistance, please contact a licensed professional in your area.