Tag Archives: wellness

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.

Not Spry. Or Spunky. Perhaps Getting Grumpy

I am, apparently, just about at that age where, should some mischief attempt to befall me on a morning walk, perhaps, the news story (as if Seminole ever gets news coverage) would start like this:

“An elderly Seminole woman defended herself against (fill in the blank – loose dog, unusually defensive coyote, a foolish person, etc.).  Dolores Puterbaugh, age (yup), of Seminole, was spry and spunky enough to fight off (problem creature). Etc., etc.”

There is nothing wrong with the word spry. It means agile or nimble, and if we were still applying it across the lifespan, it would be one thing. As it stands, however, we do not call college gymnasts spry.  We also do not describe 40-year-old males who stick up for themselves as “spunky.” These terms have been relegated to the equivalent of “aren’t you cute” and a pat on the head, reserved mostly for men and women of a certain age.

I once read an article in which the author asserted that elderly people often fall or are otherwise injured because they are moving quickly in order to prove they are still spry. This is simultaneously hilarious and offensive. Guess what, whippersnapper; we aren’t thinking about your opinion at all. We’re just doing life. Plenty of young people faceplant on the sidewalk because they hit uneven pavement, or aren’t paying attention. We don’t call their just-seconds-ago pace an attempt to show off their, oh, I don’t know! Let’s call it spryness.

In our performative culture, perhaps the fact that most of us of a certain age really aren’t sitting around, wringing our hands and hoping we can get the approval of younger people doesn’t make sense to the cohorts that crave constant feedback. We value the love of our families and friends, but that’s different than needing approval. I suspect a bit of projection in the notion that seniors are busy putting on a show for young people.

Yet, to be honest, I hope to demonstrate something. I hope I can live out what aging gracefully looks like – what it looks like to do the work of it, and balance determination and accommodations with a spirit of surrender to God’s process here. I would like very much to do this without grumpiness. It will require a lot of grace. But that’s different than showing off agility or trying to impress people with my courage. Or is it spunk?

Set-Ups, Near Occasions & Solution-Focused Brief Therapy

Haven’t we all had times we felt set up for failure?

Near occasions. Think of them as set-ups. Human beings are spectacularly good at setting ourselves up, for good choices and for the not-so-good, too.

We Catholics refer to near-occasions of sin – the people, places, things and behaviors that we might see as “set ups” for us to make poor choices. There’s nothing inherently “bad” about gathering at a bar and grill with friends, but if you are trying hard to maintain your recovery as an alcoholic, it is a “near occasion.” It’s a set-up to make good choices even tougher. Likewise, the trip to the mall to “just walk around” when you’re trying to work your way out of debt. Why set yourself up for failure?

In the same way, there are what may be called “near occasions of Grace,” the people, places, things and behaviors that increase our odds of making good choices. The friends who are uplifting and don’t gossip; the entertainment that doesn’t feed envy or anger; the activities that make the rest of the day better. We “set up” the likelihood of good choices, too.

Solution Focused Brief Therapy (SFBT) similarly looks at people, places, things and behaviors. You may be thinking, well, duh, what sort of therapy does NOT focus on solutions? Different forms of therapy have different emphases in terms of finding solutions. For example, psychodynamic therapy emphasizes developing insight that leads to new choices; behavior modification focuses on step-by-step actions to guide the client towards reaching goals. In SFBT, there is a particular emphasis on the clues (factors that set up outcomes) in people’s lives and using these clues and the client’s strengths to develop solutions. In many ways, it is looking for near occasions of the goals the client has for therapy. When has the goal in question already happened, or part of it happened?  What was going on then? What was happening right before that? What were you doing? What were others doing? As a team, we investigate the near occasions of success so the client can use the clues to develop solutions that make sense for that client’s life.

Just as a quick example, let’s consider the person who realizes that getting the morning off on the right foot tends to lead to a better day, all-around. We look at examples of those “better days.” What did happen in the morning? What happened the day before that might have contributed to that morning? There are usually plenty of clues and examples of times when the person has been successful in doing things that either led to a “better day” or set the stage to some degree.  Some clues might be eating a reasonably healthy dinner, getting to bed “on time” and not using the phone or other screened device, getting up on time and getting out of bed right away instead of starting the phone-scroll. The person identifies the factors and then we look at how to increase the incidence or likelihood of those recurring. Breaking it down further, let’s take the dilemma of the phone next to the bed and its appeal as a way to deal with insomnia, or its interference with just getting out of bed on time. “I can’t leave it in the kitchen. It’s my alarm clock,” people will assert. Yes, I understand- and I understand that I bought a little travel alarm clock – a couple of AA batteries that have thus far worked for years – that wakes me reliably every morning whether there’s a power outage or not, and I do not have my phone over there, flashing lights and buzzing every time an artist friend posts a painting. It seems many other artists are night owls. The solution, if what is wanted is actually a reliable alarm clock function, can be had for less than fifteen dollars.  If the phone is off in another room, you’ll have to get out of bed to get to it. And by then you will probably have done something besides scroll – brushed your teeth or started the coffee or fed the dog. You will be vertical, approximately on time, and therefore have “set up” a more likely success story about getting into your day “on time.” The phone by the bed is a “near occasion” of extra time awake during the night, more time in bed, and then being rushed, grumpy and unprepared for the day. Nothing is inherently bad about the phone – but it might be part of a “set up.”

We all have “near occasions” – of sin, grace, good choices, bad choices. The negative ones have less power when we know what they are, and the good ones can exert their power when we focus on them.

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.

Believe that there is more to you

It is a sad and common theme.

A person is struggling: with an addiction, or obsessions and compulsions, or moral injury, or the impact of trauma, and has come to a place where the sense of self has been entirely subsumed by the problem and its pain.

The definition of self becomes “the addiction,” or “the monster who did (whatever has led to moral injury)” or “the mental disorder diagnosis.”

And, of course, as a therapist, I believe it is critical to address mental health troubles with the best of the science we have, with the particular approaches suited, as discerned ongoing, with the specific needs of that client.

But I also believe that a parallel need is extant and urgent: the need for this person, who is suffering, to come back to an awareness of self as a deeply beloved child of God. Not generically loved, like we may say that we “love” some food or activity or type of animal – but particular, personal, and intense.  Women who, like me, have been blessed to give birth will recall that wild wave of emotion that engulfs us when we meet that little person face-to-face after the peculiar intimacy of pregnancy. It makes us irrationally jealous of everyone and anyone; what mother doesn’t remember resenting the nurses and physicians who separated us from the baby long enough to do the general assessments and necessary care? Well, that is a reflection God’s love for each person.

If a person who is suffering is willing to enter into, and do, the hard work of therapy, which will include lifestyle changes and “homework,” and also becomes open to reconsidering his or her existence as a deeply loved person, someone who is more than the addiction, or bad choices, or terrifying memories, or intrusive thoughts and painful compulsions, then true and deep healing can happen.  This is what I would wish for every person struggling with emotional wounds.

My Grief Support Group

On October 1, the next offering of GriefShare will begin at St. Matthew Catholic Church. This marks my 15th round of GriefShare at St. Matthew’s, on top of a long history of grief support volunteerism prior to starting at St. Matthew in 2018. GriefShare at St. Matthew’s is free, although we do ask for a donation to cover the cost of the workbook provided to each participant.

GriefShare is a 13-week program, but with the breaks for Thanksgiving and Christmas, this offering will wrap up in late January, which I find useful – we surround the difficult weeks of the holidays but are well into the program, and, we hope, some extra support and encouragement for grief during especially challenging periods.

The last session began in February and ran through May – a difficult one for me, as my father passed in January 2025, the day before the October 2024-January 2025 GriefShare program ended. I was more than a little raw and definitely not my best self for the participants this past spring. I apologized along the way but it doesn’t make up for the fact that I was not on my A-game for people who needed me. I hope to do better this time around.

Generally, the guidance for grief support groups is to wait three months. For some people, it takes longer. Some people jump in sooner simply because waiting until another group starts seems too long. Every person is unique and so is their grief, the person they are grieving, and their history of losses, and these factors impact how we each grieve. Some people come to grief counseling years after the loss, when the demands of the aftermath of loss have slowed down. There is no timeline on grief.

GriefShare programs have a standard format: some check-in and chat time; a 30-minute video that addresses a particular aspect of the grief experience; and discussion time on that topic. The aforementioned workbook is for personal use between sessions, with daily readings and activities focused on each week’s topic. Speaking in the group is entirely optional – no one should feel pressured to speak. If you come and are unable to speak, please do not feel badly; your presence is important and valuable even if you don’t say a word. Simply by being present to one another, we give witness and support to the fact that we do, in fact, grieve the people we love. It doesn’t go away just because the world seems to have moved on.

GriefShare is a Christian program – there are references to scripture throughout – but all are welcome. For our Jewish brothers and sisters, most of the Scripture is drawn from Hebrew Scriptures. Not surprising, Job and the Psalms are probably most referenced!

To find a GriefShare group near you, go to www.griefshare.org and search by your zip code.

Please share this information with anyone you know who might need it. Even better – offer to go a time or two with a grieving friend who needs the support and encouragement to take that first, scary step to go to a group. It will be a couple of hours of pure, loving gift to someone who needs it.