Do Not Cross

One of the things I have been learning since 2009, when I embraced a lifestyle of acceptance and freedom from the need to control people by either intimidation, manipulation, or care-giving, is the concept of boundaries.

I didn't know that boundaries even existed in people's lives until I was well into my forties. Nobody respected mine growing up, and so I didn't know I had any to respect. But being in therapy in 2009 taught me many things, and one of them was that everyone has boundaries, and that there are just some boundaries you don't cross - even if you feel you have the right to do so because you're someone's parent, or spouse, or best friend.

You just don't.

I guess I've become so super-sensitive to it in my own behavior that I see it really clearly when someone else does it. My daughter gave me a perfect example of what I mean by crossing boundaries, as we were chatting this morning about this very thing. She said that until I learned about boundaries (mine and others'), I would see her reading a book in her room, walk into her room, grab the book and read a paragraph or two (to determine content) and then decide whether she would be allowed to continue reading it. I called it protecting her heart and mind from the evil messages in the book. She felt as though I was treating her like property. 

I was. Without knowing it, that's exactly what I was doing. 
I cringed at the thought when she told me about it. It was perfectly normal for me at the time, but I would never dream of doing such a thing now.

In my counselling program, I've been learning about how to listen to someone. Mostly, I have learned what listening is NOT.  It's NOT getting the gist enough to remind me of something in my own life, and turning that conversation into something about me.  It's NOT thinking of what to say next.  It's NOT dreaming up a solution to the person's problem and trying to "fix" it.  It's NOT a game of one-upmanship, where my suffering is worse than the other person's and they have no right to be upset.  It's NOT belittling the person by saying that they don't have a reason to feel the way they do because it could be so much worse.  It's NOT about me at all.  It's NOT about trying to get the person to stop being sad, or angry, or whatever they feel that might be uncomfortable for me.

What it IS, is about understanding what it is like to be that person. It's about being able to come alongside that person and feel - even if only briefly - a little bit of their pain or distress.  It's about THEM. Their feelings, their experiences, their perceptions.

Photo "Crime Scene Concept"
courtesy of ponsulak
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Telling them what they SHOULD do is not allowed. Telling them how they SHOULD feel is doubly not allowed! That yellow crime scene tape that indicates danger past that point? That's what is all over those actions. They imply judgment, and a lack of faith that the person is able to solve his or her own problems. That screams, "Danger! Do not cross!"  Ignoring the warnings - cutting that tape - leads to disaster.

It's okay to ask questions if these lead to a deeper understanding of the person's feelings.  The important thing for someone who is hurting is not for the person listening to take the pain away; it is for the person listening to LISTEN, to really HEAR their heart, their feelings, their take on things. People need to feel validated, ... not violated. I was thinking of this last evening as I was talking to a family member on the phone. In spite of my own personal opinion regarding this person's choices, I was not there to pass judgment, agree or disagree, or give direction or even my opinion. I was there to LISTEN - nothing more - because if I gave advice to this person, they would cut me out of their life and that would be a loss for both of us! 

Even if this person asked for my advice, let's say I gave it. Let's say that the advice worked. What harm would that do? the person is happy, the problem is gone, everything's cool, right?  WRONG.  The next time the person has a problem, who do you think they'll come to? That's right, ME. Again, since I'm such a wise person (hahaha) the advice works. I have therefore created a dependent relationship. And the person doesn't grow.

And if (that is, WHEN) the advice doesn't work, and everything blows up, who is this person going to blame? ME. 

See how what seems like a good idea ... isn't?

Friends accept each other and don't try to change one another. Family members, whether blood or chosen, deserve my acceptance. They also deserve to have their boundaries - whether they know they exist or not - respected.  I don't have to jump on everything someone says that I don't agree with. I don't have to constantly state things that I have already made clear in the past: my beliefs, my opinions, or my way of doing things.  That will only push them away when they might need a real connection with me.  

What I need to do when they open up, is to accept that person the way he or she is, and to let them know by example (that is, by listening and refusing to give advice) that what they are going through, and how they feel about it, is important, even if nothing changes. If that means that I don't get to give them the benefit of my experience (such as it is) right now, and merely offer my presence, I think that this would do far more good than rushing to cross that line.

Listening without preconceptions

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
 ~ ~ Albert Einstein

There are many different applications of the above quote. While I have been considered by some to have a mediocre mind from time to time (and the realization that the other person views me this way is not a pleasant thing), I have occasionally been on the other side of the saying too. 

I was reminded of it a few months ago, when someone mistook my identification with and support of those who suffer from depression and suicidal thoughts to mean that I was suicidal myself. I wasn't, of course. But I feel things deeply, and I was going through some pretty intense emotional stuff at the time, so the person's interpretation of my statement, "I can understand why some people actually consider committing suicide," to mean, "I'm thinking of killing myself," led to a very uncomfortable confrontation which I did not ask for, and which I was not at all prepared to handle. 

The person's over-the-top reaction made me feel as though I was being bullied; it only added to my emotional angst.  Had I truly been suicidal, I believe that this person's reaction would have pushed me over the edge. I told her so the next time I saw her (she cornered me), and she dismissed my confrontation as me being "offended."  Hmm, yes I was offended - deeply - and I felt it was necessary to tell her that the way she handled my emotional state was inappropriate and heavy-handed. Yet she totally missed the point and continued (condescendingly) to believe that she was a caring person, one who had my best interests at heart.

That was not my perception at all. However, after I got over my initial reaction to being verbally assaulted, I was able to reflect on the situation and learn some very important lessons. 

First, I learned to never reveal my deeper emotions to people whom I do not totally trust.  This person had not earned the right to speak to me in such a controlling and intimidating way. I should not have let her know any of what was going on inside. 

Second, I learned (through watching her behavior) what NOT to do when someone has revealed that they are struggling with some heavy stuff.  I learned that one does NOT command, talk down at, or otherwise force a conversation, that when I talk to someone about emotional issues, I need to get my head on the same physical plane as theirs. If they are sitting, I sit. If they are standing, I stand - I meet them face to face, not from a position of "less than" or "more than." I need to phrase my reactions in terms of "I" statements instead of "you" statements (for example, "You should," or "You have got to..." which immediately puts the hurting person on the defensive.)  I need to listen to them and not to fill silences with a constant stream of talk, talk, talk.  And I need to ask permission to have the conversation in the first place, or do any other kind of intervention, at all times treating the person with respect. 

None of that happened in the situation I described.  I felt more like a kid called into the principal's office for something he didn't even do: condemned before I even started, and not believed when I proclaimed my innocence.

Photo "Psychologist Listening To Patient"
courtesy of David Castillo Dominici at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Finally, I learned that (too) many people are uncomfortable with strong emotion expressed by someone else; they don't know how to let it be what it is, or to deal with it (especially so-called "negative" emotion) on a personal level, and they want so desperately not to feel uncomfortable. Therefore, they will do or say ANYthing to get it to stop, even if it means emotional bullying. This is where my adaptation of Einstein's quote comes to bear: Those with the capacity for great or deep emotion are always going to encounter violent opposition from those without that capacity (either by choice or by design). So, my soul, be careful - guard your heart because it is the most precious commodity you have. Do not let it be pulled into mediocrity, or dismissed by those who cannot hope to understand. Feel what you feel, yes, but choose carefully how and to whom you reveal those feelings. 

If that sounds arrogant, so be it. For me, it is all part of self-care.

The whole experience has been an important part of my understanding of what a professional psychologist is and what he/she does. These lessons will stand me in good stead when I become a therapist someday. 

Good fences make good neighbours

Over the last couple of months, ever since someone tromped all over one of my personal boundaries, I've been doing a lot of thinking about boundaries or personal limits, what they are, why they're important, how to recognize them if and when they exist, and how to respect them. I've even thought a little about when it is okay to cross those boundaries, and when it is NEVER okay to do so. 

Until I was in my forties, I didn't even know that personal boundaries existed, because when I was growing up, they didn't. When I started realizing that I had a right to take up space, that others had boundaries that I was not allowed to cross and that the same applied to me, I started realizing how many times throughout my life that people had barged onto my private property, even in the name of "caring," and proceeded to wrestle my rights to the ground. 

For example, I kept a diary when I was a teen. In it, I poured out my hopes, wishes and dreams, ideas I had, no matter how outlandish. I explored the depth of the feelings I was feeling, confided my deepest thoughts, and I found that in doing so, there was an outlet, a way for me to work through a very confusing and intense period in my life. 

One day, my mother found it. 
She read it.
She was horrified by the subject matter and the intensity.

She made me burn it. Not just it, but all of them that had gone before.

I sat in front of the furnace and wept in grief and intense anger and hatred as I burned - page after page - was forced to destroy what to me represented my soul: literally months and years of a journey I could have looked back on in my twenties and thirties ... and laughed about. 

That was a boundary that should never have been crossed. 
My mom thought she was being a good mom, protecting me, raising me "right." But she violated my privacy, judged me, and her punishment was way over the top.

It took me decades to forgive her. And yes, that was something that needed to be forgiven because IT WAS WRONG, and it hurt me terribly, even though she never apologized. 

Photo "White Fence" courtesy of scottchan at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

When I had children of my own, I made mistakes with them too. I remember freaking out when I saw some things that one or the other of the kids was doing ... and then I remembered my old diary. And it made me stop and rethink. And yes, when I'd jumped over a fence onto their territory, I apologized ... eventually.

I remember that while they were still small and there were going to be people coming over to the house for a visit, people with children their age or thereabouts ... I would tell them to go through their things in advance and set aside those "special" toys that they didn't want to share, and we'd put them in a separate room that was off-limits until the guests went home. That way, they didn't have to feel forced to share ALL of their toys. It modeled for them that there are boundaries, that boundaries are a good thing to have, and that they had a right to their own privacy. That was HUGE. 

And it was one thing (among many) which helped me to build their trust over the years so that later, when I discovered something that I thought was horrible, I was able to listen and find out the "why" instead of freaking out and shutting forever conduits of communication that I wanted to stay open. I don't need to share exactly what those things were, because that's their stuff, not mine. But that communication stayed open, and at the end of the day, I'd rather that than secrets and lies.

So here's what I've learned about fences and about being a good neighbour.

• People have the right to have their own opinions. It is not my job to put them down for their beliefs and lifestyles.
• "Talking down" to someone is never okay. That includes both tone and body position. If someone is seated, sit. If they are shorter than you are, position yourself to be on the same level as they are, at the same eye level. 
• Nobody is any better than anyone else, regardless of age, gender, economical status, social standing, race, or belief. We are all in this together.
• Nobody has the right to tell anyone else what to do. Not even if asked. Giving advice is never a good idea. And downright giving orders (for whatever reason, even "caring,") makes people want to do the exact opposite of what you tell them. And they will never trust anyone who manipulates and controls them.
• People have the right to feel what they feel. Feelings are not wrong and need never be treated as such, regardless of age or gender. Babies to seniors, male to female and everything in between, feelings are feelings and they are valid and real to whoever feels them. 
• Kindness and acceptance go a lot further than condemnation and self-righteousness.

Good boundaries really do make good neighbours, good parents, good friends, and good spouses. The virtue of respect is one that - if cultivated in one's own heart and mind - can make this world a much better place. And, like all virtues, it is developed and nourished from the inside out.

Choosing wisely

There's a scene from the 3rd Indiana Jones movie (after all the scary stuff where the bad guy picks the wrong grail and ... well, we won't discuss that, but the knight does comment, "He chose poorly..."), when Indy gets to choose a specific cup (the Holy Grail) among several ornate cups and other containers on a large table. He picks a clay goblet, saying, "This looks like the cup of a carpenter," and plunges it into the basin containing the water of life. 

He takes a drink and looks at the old knight. "You chose wisely," the old man states slowly. 

Choosing wisely. 

As a new year begins, there are millions of people making resolutions, promises they might fully intend to keep. And some of them will. Most of them ... well, did you know that in the gyms and health clubs there's this term known as the "resolution rush"? That is, the glut of gym memberships people buy right after the holidays so they can lose that pesky five pounds (or more) ... and after that, most don't use their membership or get their money's worth out of it. At one time I did get a gym membership - and I used it for about two weeks. After that, I lost interest - because it wasn't something that meant a great deal to me. It was outside my routine, and I was already doing too much other stuff to fit it in.

I'm afraid I have Garfield the cat's attitude about exercise - whenever I get the urge, I just lie down til it goes away. Besides, I've yet to see anyone exercising for its own sake who looks happy while doing it. Unless, of course, they're already skinny and they just THINK they're fat because they have five or ten pounds to lose according to some chart somewhere (those types just drive me around the bend - it's like they're masochists or something, and there's always something at least a little bit judgmental - intended or not - about their attitude toward people like me.) 

But I digress. 

Photo "Daily Planner With Pen" courtesy of
BrandonSigma at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Setting goals is a laudable thing - if those goals are short-term, can be achieved and measured, mean something to the person, and are easy to remember. 

Platitudes and esoteric statements - like "I will be a better person" for example - are too hard to measure, depending on whether or not the person is a perfectionist. Who decides what's better? How much better? Is that realistic? With all the other things going on in that person's life, could that goal be achievable, or would it mean he or she would have to give up something important?

i could say, "I will lose a hundred pounds this year," but unless liposuction or gastric bypass surgery is in my immediate future, that's not going to happen. It's not realistic. Any time I've put a number on my weight loss goals, I've ended up disappointing myself. And unless I have the energy to devote to the changes I'm going to need to make, it's pretty well pointless to start talking about even losing ten pounds. I might lose it - but I know I'd gain it back. 

Besides, my weight issue is only an external image thing. I'd rather work on something inside of me, something that will have long-lasting effects. The last five years, that something has been setting boundaries and enforcing them, respecting others' boundaries, letting go of the need to control other people, and learning to forgive myself.

I like what a fellow blogger has done - she picks one word. It's easy to remember, once chosen, and she doesn't have to go to some book or recipe card to remind herself. It's just one word, after all. She doesn't give up the previous year's word because that's become a part of her mental makeup - and it's not like she expects to apply that word in every situation (because she's human) ... but it's a word that will recur, that will guide, that will remind her to do what it says more and more often. 

Because I'm so wordy, perhaps one word might not do the trick for me, but one small, short phrase or sentence might. 

I've thought about something like "Pursue excellence" - and while that is a great idea, I might get myself bogged down in how that plays out for me in the everyday. The same thing goes with "Help someone" - often I don't get the chance to do that every day, and I think often enough about that anyway. I could choose "Learn something" - but there are days when I don't learn anything ... or what I learn is not helpful to me or to anyone else. Besides, I think I've cultivated a teachable spirit over the years. 

Photo "Sun Ray Behind Dark Cloud" by
Sura Nuralpradid at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

So after much deliberation, I think I've hit on something that will speak to my own tendency to see things in a negative light. This is choosing wisely for me because negativity is something that is a recurring problem and it has the effect of discouraging me and also those around me. 

The phrase I think I've chosen is, "Look up." By this, I don't mean physically looking up all the time, but keeping an attitude that is more positive, that remembers that I'm not the centre of the universe. Looking up reminds me that there is something higher, something that supersedes my plans and those of other entities like systems or governments. It reminds me that even on the cloudiest, darkest day, the sun still shines even when I can't see it. It reminds me that there is always help, courage, strength, and love in the One who is higher than I, and that in every circumstance, I can look up to Him for what I need. Even if all I need is to remember that He's with me.

It also reminds me that I can choose to look for the good in things - and in people. In my own inner life, it is something simple that I can do to become more aware that I am not alone, that I am loved and cherished, and that I am important. 

Yes, that fits me this year. It will help me to choose wisely.

Games people play

It never ceases to amaze me how people can be incredibly caring, sweet, wonderful and generous ... until they aren't. 

A few things I've learned about people in the last five and a half years that I've been in "recovery" have set me back on my heels. These are things that either I didn't know or that I didn't want to know. 

One thing is sure. People will surprise you. You think you have them pegged and then they do something completely unexpected. Like when my co-workers opened their hearts to me after my youngest daughter died suddenly last October. I never expected that - and the caring continues to this day! 

However, I have learned - sadly, the hard way - that no matter who it is, people (because they - er, we - are human!) will inevitably disappoint anyone who depends on them / us. We aren't perfect, and if we try to give that impression, well, let's just say the fall from the pedestal is quite steep. And it seems that the higher the pedestal we think we're on, the more it hurts when (not if) we fall from it. I've learned that it's better not to think of myself as better than anyone else, and it's made me avoid anyone who thinks that way too, for whatever reason (education, position, etc.)

So, for better or worse, I've developed some personal guidelines to help me navigate the world of interpersonal relationships - which can sometimes be a mine-field, especially if there are relationships where one person is in a position of power and the other one isn't. So, in no particular order, here are a few of my own personal guard-rails:

1. I have boundaries. These pertain to my personal space, to my emotional space, and to my spiritual space. I have the right to occupy a place in the world, and to feed my soul with what nourishes me inside. If someone infringes on that right, or takes advantage of my generosity, I have the right to be angry and also to say, "This is not okay." It doesn't matter whether that person believes himself or herself to have the right to demand my respect; if the person has hurt me, it is okay for me to say that he or she has hurt me. 
2. I have the right to make my own decisions and my own mistakes, and the responsibility to learn from them.
3. I have the right to feel what I feel. This means that nobody has the right to tell me that I don't feel something or that I shouldn't feel something. 
4. Other people have boundaries. It is not okay for me to try to fix anyone, even if that person asks me to do it. It is not my place to tell someone else how to live their life, run their marriage or raise their kids.
5. Other people have the right to make their own decisions and their own mistakes, and they (not I) must bear the consequences of their own actions.
6. Other people have the right to feel what they feel too. Just because I might be uncomfortable with it, or I wouldn't react in the same way, doesn't give me the right to dismiss - or to judge - what another's experience might be.
7. If anyone - including me - is in a relationship where he or she feels consistently shamed or bullied or "less than", it is not only okay ... it is IMPERATIVE ... to walk away. NOBODY deserves to be treated that way. Staying in a relationship like that only encourages the abuser to continue abusing.

If this post has helped anyone identify an area where there are boundary issues or relationship inequalities that are taking place, and then figure out what it is that they need to do to take care of themselves, then I have achieved my purpose in writing it.

More

For a long time now, I've likened my own recovery to a journey. I still believe that it is a journey ... only not in the way one might think.

A journey metaphor implies a beginning, a middle and an end. It's a place of departure and a destination at which one arrives triumphant. But recovery, I'm discovering, is not like that. 

It's a journey all right. But it doesn't go in a straight line. And you NEVER arrive. NEVER. 

The journey I mean is not one toward a goal that can be measured, some sort of award you can place on your wall and point to and say, "There. I did that."  Rather, it's an excursion into the self, drilling and chipping past layer upon layer of sediment: hard-packed rock built up over years and years of pain, trying to find that elusive commodity that got buried all those years ago - the true self that dares not show itself lest it be trampled. Again. 

Photo "Whole And Halved Onion" courtesy of
bplanet at the site
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Sometimes, after getting through one layer and seeing some progress, the tendency is to think that I've arrived ... to want to share that knowledge with the rest of the world ... and all that succeeds in doing is that it alienates those who care about me. And it isolates me. 

Getting past those layers (which have to be handled one at a time) is like peeling an onion. Each layer involves ripping ... pain ... and tears. Lots of tears shed.

The missing ingredient to all this - is the other entity that tries to escape detection: the person I had to become very early in my life in order to survive, the person in me that I hate. That is the monster that disguises itself as the victim, the martyr, the watchdog, the warrior, and any number of other things that SEEM to be justified. It's there just beneath the surface, seething in anger, trembling in fear, waiting for an opportunity to rise up and take over my life and regain control over others. It's the old me, the one who wraps herself in graveclothes and then puts on a mantle of respectability. 

Until it's exposed. Until someone pins it down and calls it what it is. 

Someone I care about a lot, someone who was very hurt by that monster as recently as yesterday (and for many years prior), finally decided to stand up to it. And that person exposed it for what it was, in all of the stench of decomposition that clung to it. That old me didn't like being exposed. It fought. It lashed out. It squirmed. But the new me - the one who is just barely beginning to be made known - along with the help of this loved one, realized that this whole thing was another manifestation, another mask, for that monster. And that it was something that needed to be addressed ... and NOW.  

So I had to do a few things that were very uncomfortable. 

1. I had to admit that I was wrong, that the monster existed and had hurt my loved ones. 
2. I had to root out the source of the underlying attitudes that were wrong.
3. I had to reject those attitudes and agree not to adopt them anymore.
4. I had to admit them to myself, to God and to the person I had wronged, as well as to those who were witnesses to that behavior and who were affected by it.
5. I had to ask those people to keep me honest with myself.

Before I go any further, let me first say that it is totally impossible for me to do all of that on my own. I need to be empowered to do those things; I usually find such empowerment from my reliance on and relationship with God. 

I am grateful to that loved one for pushing past the fear and confronting the monster in me. At the time, it was (shall we say) NOT pleasant. AT ALL. But it needed to be confronted.

I'm not as cock-sure as I was before; my arrogance about "recovery" was pretty off-putting to a lot of people, I'm sure. I know that this angry, fearful Thing is likely to resurface in another area; that is the major take-away from this experience. There is always going to be more. More layers, more hiding, more excavation to do. It's very humbling ... and that's likely a good sign. 

And as I go through more layers - painful as that process is - there is one more side-effect. A positive one. I get closer and closer to the real me - that one who's trapped beneath the surface. At least now I can hear her voice ... even through the bedrock.

Stopped at the border

Several months back, one of my kids decided to take a trip with her (then) boyfriend to visit his parents in the States. She had just gotten her passport, and she was excited about meeting his folks. Everything was fine ... until they reached the border. 

The standard questions revealed that she had no job or schooling to come back to ... and the border guards promptly kept her on the Canadian side of the border while allowing her boyfriend through ... and they wouldn't let him come back to Canada. They told him to go home. 

In five minutes, her plans were foiled in spite of both of their protests. The rules were the rules; she was a risk of immigration fraud and they were sending her back home. She called us from the border ... and we hopped in the vehicle and traveled the 7 hours to get there and pick her up, and the 7 hours back were spent in pretty much total silence. It took her weeks to get over that incident.

Rejection. No matter what the source is, it hurts. 

It hurts even worse when the rejection (or even a perceived rejection) comes from someone who is close to you: a family member, close friend, or respected leader. 

Sometimes, though, the rejection isn't really a rejection at all; it's simply a border. A boundary. 

I've been learning about boundaries the last four years or so; before that, I wasn't even aware they existed and was extremely offended if someone prohibited me from entering a certain portion of his or her life. After all, I let the people I love to walk uninvited into my life, so they should do the same, right?

Wrong. I was wrong to not set up boundaries and protect my own space, and it was wrong of me to assume that they should be as dysfunctional as I. 

I'm still learning - learning to set limits with people, and learning to respect their limits as well. Someone expresses a need for me to change something about the way I do things, and in most cases if I know the reason, I will usually accommodate. 

Sometimes, though, that learning has a few speed bumps. Like last night, in a discussion with a family member, there was something that she asked me to change about my cooking, and I reacted. BADLY. I felt personally attacked and rejected and I lashed out! Then she decided to rub salt in the wound by telling me that I had hurt HER feelings, that my insensitivity (MY insensitivity??) had disappointed her, and then by proceeding to tell me what my reaction was going to be to her assessment of my character as well. 

And she was right. I was furious! 

After she left, I started examining my reactions. They'd been so intense - and what we were discussing was nothing to be that intense about - so I had to wonder what was behind them. In essence, I was looking for the deeper meaning underlying why I was so upset. There had to be more to it than just the surface issue.

Photo, "Businesswoman Asking To Stop"
courtesy of imagerymagic at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

It took me a while to find it. What I discovered was a whole belief system surrounding food, what it meant, (not just sustenance, but love), how I believed family members were supposed to react to something someone prepared for them to eat, and about a tremendous load of what psychologists call "performance anxiety." I had compartmentalized it; I'd found ways around it, like cooking two separate meals for the people in the house or taking things out of the bowl or pot for her use before adding other ingredients that she either didn't like or couldn't have. But this - this was the last straw.

At the heart of it, I felt rejected. I'd already made so many changes to what I cooked, how I cooked it, and even WHERE I cooked it, to accommodate this one person's needs. And now this. It was the tip of an iceberg of accumulated perceived rejections, the existence of which I'd not even been aware. So, naturally, my reaction was not just about the tip of that iceberg, but about the whole thing (even though I wasn't consciously aware of it).

To me, it was the same thing as having my love rejected. And as the saying goes, "Hell hath no fury...." 

To her, it was "only one thing." She didn't understand my reaction and was hurt by it. To me, it was "every last thing." I was wrong to react the way I did, lashing out like that. Human behavior sometimes baffles me - especially my own - but it proves I'm human!

And sometime today, I'll have a talk with her, tell her I'm sorry for lashing out, and explain what I was thinking. 

As for my belief system about food ... hmmm. It's tied into how I was raised, and into my own brain systems surrounding reward and punishment. It took a long time for me to develop these beliefs.

That will take a little longer to fix. But at least now I am aware of it. That's progress.

The Only You

We were at our weekly team-builder: a half-hour of social interaction over treats provided by one of the groups in our team, when I saw her standing nearby in a small group of about four people, chatting. Our eyes met - and I wandered over.

Actually I had wanted to chat with her for a couple of weeks, because I'd been thinking about her. She'd recently finished a degree program and obtained her Master's, a process I'm only beginning. As things got busier and busier outside of work, with my classes and my preparation, reading, projects, and the like, I found my thoughts wandering to how she must have felt during her program.

A few seconds into our conversation, she said, "If I had any advice to give you, it's this: don't forget to look after yourself. Sleep. Eat. Exercise." 

I grinned, and let her continue. "It's really easy to get so involved in your studies that you fall prey to the 'just one more page, just one more chapter' kind of thinking. Don't let it happen. Take a break, even if it's for ten minutes. Do something you want to do. Don't give in to the temptation to just grab something at the drive-through, eat healthy." 

I nodded. Her words made sense. 

They carried the message, even though she didn't actually say the words, "You are the only you that you have. Take care of you, because if you don't, you won't have anything left to give." 

A nice pot of soup - steaming away

Her words came back to me yesterday as I struggled with a difficult decision ... it doesn't matter what it was. Yet I found myself tempted to sacrifice my own future, my own sanity even, for the sake of something that - truth be told - was better left to work itself out. 

Yes. I had to let go. AGAIN. But it didn't make it easy. Not one bit. 

If I hadn't, I am sure that I would have bankrupted myself, or landed in a psychiatric ward somewhere because I was trying so very hard to be strong when that situation was not even my situation to control. 

Was it hard? OHHH yeah. 

Once I had finally made that decision and let go, the stress level went from 95% down to 30%. I felt the muscles in my neck and shoulders, which had been getting tighter and tighter over the last several days ... start to relax. My stomach started to un-knot and the nausea subsided. I could take a full breath again. And the only thing that had changed about the situation was my attitude toward it - and toward myself. The crux of the matter was - I was the only me I had. I still am. 

If that means that I have to set boundaries and stick to them - if that means I have to say no to a request, or sacrifice a B+ and settle for a B- to look after myself, then I need to do that. 

Thank you for reminding me of that, my friend.

More Lessons from Yarn

I keep learning from these crocheting projects! 

After I finished my first real "clothing" project (a hat) which turned out to be too small for an adult, I donated it to a local charity for a yard sale they had coming up. So ... it went to a good cause, and I learned a whole passel of stuff.

I decided to try again. This time, I had some black yarn I'd picked up at a local craft shop. Applying the lessons I learned from my previous project (see my previous post) I took my time, relaxed my grip, unraveled when I made a mistake, and trusted the pattern. 

I'm about half-way through and it's looking fairly good so far. However, I have learned even more from my second than my first, especially because I used black yarn.

Black yarn is harder to work with than ... say ... pink. It's DARK!

So, here are the things I've learned from crocheted (crow shade) work (yes, I know it's a very old, very bad joke!)

Increase the contrast
Use a hook that will contrast well against the color you're using. This helps you to see where the stitches are on the hook and will prevent you from messing up the stitches. 

It helps to have a guide like that, to be sure of where you are and where you want to go. The backdrop of a clear vision of what you really want to do is the starting place for accomplishing it. 

Try not to get discouraged
Sometimes the mistakes look hopeless. Taking your time with it, finding out where it went wrong, and having a little patience to work your way back to the blunder can take extra time, but it is worth it if it results in a successful piece. Setting it down for a little while can help recharge the batteries and give fresh perspective.

In our dealings with those who are closest to us, sometimes we think too many mistakes have taken place on both sides. However, it's worth the extra time that it takes to ferret out what went wrong, deal with it honestly, and work it through (individually or together) without succumbing to the tendency to have a chip on our shoulder.

If it's stuck, it's stuck
Backtracking can sometimes only go so far; at times there has been a hanger-on that has caused a tangle beyond which it's impossible to go. The tighter you pull, the tighter the knot gets. At such a time, the choice remains to go with it the way it is, or cut the yarn and start over from scratch. Either way, it is what it is and all you can do is accept it.

Some things can be lived with. And, like it or not, some things aren't fixable and it's time to say goodbye. True in crocheting, true in relationships or circumstances. It does no good to get upset about it - accepting the situation as it is, is the only way to relieve the stress and find some peace.

Turn on the light
Making it easy on yourself is sometimes no more complicated than reaching up and turning on a light so you can see where to go next, count stitches to find out where you've been, or do a row count to make sure you're on the right part of the pattern. It's a great way to orient yourself and get a general idea of where you are.

At times, in relationships, it helps to clarify the rules, to shed light on expectations and let each other know where we stand. It's so easy to "coast" in relationships with those we love or with whom we work or volunteer. Checking to see if we're playing by the rules, taking each other for granted, or crossing boundaries that are better not crossed, is a wonderful exercise to do once in a while.

It keeps us from perpetuating errors that can destroy relationships. 

Go by feel
Sometimes, given the difficulty of knowing where the next stitch is (especially with dark-colored yarn) the only thing left to do is to "go by feel" - to follow the stitches with your fingers, even poking around in behind stitches to find the right opening. 

That's okay. Sometimes the feeling can give clues and cues that your eyes can't. Learn to work with it, to recognize what the stitches feel like. Then you can trust your sense of touch to guide you as well.

Feelings can sometimes be the only thing we have to go by in relationships; if the feelings are uncomfortable, it's a pretty safe bet that boundaries are being crossed and it might be a good idea to figure out what is going on and where things have gone astray. After a while you can even trust your feelings - contrary to popular belief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Those are the most recent object lessons from the world of crochet. I'm sure there will be more. All I can do is keep my eyes and ears open, and trust my feelings.

I could do worse. ♥  

Why Self-Care Gets Such a Bad Rep

Recently, I had the opportunity to go hear someone speak on the topic of managing change. What it turned out to be was a sermon on self-care. It started off fine: "Let go of the things over which you have no control."

And then, it got ugly. 

If the presenter hadn't been so patronizing, and so obviously skewed to promoting her own agenda, I might have enjoyed the content of the presentation. However, having learned through experience and therapy to do the very things I heard this person talking about, I found the way it was put forth to be an insult to my intelligence. It cheapened all the valuable lessons I had learned in my healing process and reduced them to pithy little platitudes that implied that the reason why people were having a difficult time with change was that they had a bad attitude. She was, in essence, blaming the victim.

See the glass half-full." I couldn't believe my ears. "Choose to be happy. Smile. Be an optimist. Embrace change."

Excuse me? Even if change is ushered in at the hands of brutal people who care nothing about my situation but more about their career advancement, their political futures or their fat pensions? 

If I've learned anything in the last four years in recovery, it's that it is okay, and yes, even appropriate, to respond to injustice ... with anger. Anger motivates; anger - if harnessed properly - can produce positive change.  Need proof? The suffragettes, the Boston Tea Party, the American Revolutionary War, the Human Rights Declaration ... the list goes on.

The kind of change management proposed by this individual was the "lay down and accept change to the point of letting the machinery chew you up and spit you out." 

This is partly what gives self-care proponents a bad reputation. (The other side, equally extreme, is the "I'm going to take care of my self and the rest of you people don't matter, so just go jump in the lake" attitude - just as damaging.) 

The photo "Mirror" courtesy of Arvind Balaraman
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

The extreme that these folks go to, though, is passivity - something that the ancient Greeks called stoicism. It's a "Hakuna Matata" mentality - bad things happen and there's nothing you can do about it, so just throw up your hands and give up; tell yourself that it's not so terrible, and spout positive confessions that fly in the face of the truth. Never mind that it's wrong. Never mind that people are getting hurt. No, it's not your responsibility. Just sit down by the river, take deep breaths, and strum Kum Ba Yah. And don't forget to smile.

Even if your heart is breaking. 

The allure of this kind of thinking is that it perpetuates the illusion that all is well, and that you have some control over what is happening by denying its existence. Stick your head in the sand. Pretend there's no problem. 

Poppycock.

The problem is that there IS a problem. Denying it - whatever it is - is not going to make it go away. 

As a matter of fact, it's lying - to the self. And the body takes a really dim view of that kind of deception. It will exact payment: stress-related illnesses, for example. Cancer, irritable bowel syndrome, fibromyalgia, ulcers, chronic fatigue syndrome, migraines, high blood pressure, heart disease ... the list goes on.

Self-care involves letting go, yes. However, it also involves setting boundaries ... and enforcing them. It is about choosing to be happy, but it doesn't ignore or suppress emotions as they occur, and it is not ashamed to show them. There is a balance between the two extremes; that balance is self-care, and the extremes ... aren't. Self-care requires honesty with oneself, openness to explore new things, and willingness to do whatever it takes (even if it's hard) to be free. 

Why self-care gets such a bad reputation is that self-care is portrayed - and pursued - in a one-sided manner. When it's balanced, healing can take place. 

Backtracking

I was chatting with one of my kids this morning, about the changes that have taken place in the last four years, things I never thought possible, things that have become the norm for me now.

It came to me that the changes are never-ending (that's as it should be), and that there are certain principles surrounding change that are good to remember in any transformation of behavior, whether it be a physical or a mental habit, a belief, or a behavior pattern. 

Here, in a cursory attempt to gel my own thoughts, is a summary of those principles.

Life is a journey. In every journey there are forks in the road - decisions that we make - that will affect outcomes. When the outcomes aren't what we planned, in the majority of cases, that can be directly connected to the choices we've made at those junctures. The longer we stay on a given path, the longer it will take to get back on the right one.

We all make mistakes. We stray off onto a bunny trail, fail to set boundaries, or encroach on others' boundaries ... and we end up paying the consequences. Some of those consequences are pretty wrenching, and we wish we could have a "do-over." Or that we could be airlifted out of the situation and somehow end up on the right road for a change.

The reality is that we need to get back on the right track. The question then becomes - how do we do that? How do we get on the right path when we have been on the wrong one for so long that it seems like the only one we have? 

Sometimes, we will need to accept "what is." Acceptance is huge. 

And sometimes, we will need to change what we can. That takes courage. 

Change is never easy!!

Sometimes, God takes pity on us, and we can be delivered from the consequences of our own choices; it happens. Divine deliverance still does happen. Sometimes. 

"Arrows Choice Shows Options Alternatives or Choosing" courtesy of Stuart Miles
at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Most times, however, the way to the right path is simply by stopping, fighting our way back to that junction at which we made the wrong decision or series of decisions, and making the right one or ones. And then ... sticking with it.

Backtracking is hard. It involves a lifestyle change, a paradigm shift in how we relate to God, to ourselves, and / or to others. Or a shift from just believing something to acting upon it.  It also involves a great deal of effort to overcome inertia - that tendency to allow things to carry on as they have been. If something is important enough to make that kind of a change, it's important enough to follow through on.

Nobody promised that it would be a walk in the park. The new way of thinking and behaving feels odd, uncomfortable, strange, unnatural. That's because it is.

Do it anyway. 

Backtracking, regaining lost territory, making things right again, learning a new way of thinking, believing and behaving, is like any new thing - it will feel awkward at first. It will take practice - and there will be times when we do it without the finesse that we would like - before it starts to feel a bit more "normal." Making mistakes is a given; however, it's okay to stop, rethink, go back, admit the mistake to those involved, and try again. 

Even if it's hard. 

It will take time. We will want to see results long before they happen. That too is normal. However, the only way to get those results is to consistently stick with the program, so to speak. Think of it this way - we reap what we sow. But sowing and reaping don't happen both at once: there is a period of time that is needed for the seed to germinate, grow, mature, and produce flower and/or fruit. This is the way of things. Instant results only work in the cartoon where Bugs Bunny puts a drop of water on the Instant Martian. Poof. 

The real world doesn't work like that. 

It does help, though, to have support and encouragement. We can be grateful indeed if we have friends who will help us, pray for us, and encourage us to keep the faith. And by far the best encouragement comes from that inner voice - - the one that is in our corner, the one that looks out for our best interests - even if it means that we are uncomfortable sometimes. Even if that voice might only be a whisper ... for now.

It will get louder ... if we keep listening to it.

Gentle ...

"I never understood it when I was younger," my friend said to me. "But as I get older, the saying 'Be gentle with yourself' makes more and more sense."

I nodded. Rare is the person in our western society, especially in the church it seems, who treats himself or herself as kindly as he or she would treat others. It's part and parcel of our culture, it seems, to be hard on ourselves, to think of ourselves last (believing this to be selfless and altruistic) instead of looking after ourselves so that we have enough in reserve to give to others without burning out! 

I spent years like that, burning out time after time, growing to resent the very people I was trying to help. Decades. It boggles my mind when I think about it. And all the time I was doing that, I thought I was "being a good person" and even "being Christ-like." 

Wrong.

The depth and scope of my self-deception was such that it touched every facet of my existence. 

Typical behaviors included:

• letting everyone else choose what they wanted at a buffet and going in afterward to choose from what everyone else didn't want,
• going into a department store and getting something to wear for everyone in the family except for me,
• supporting and encouraging people who thought so little of themselves that they needed constant affirmation, with little or no change,
• never asking for any time off from my volunteer position at church, even filling in for anyone who was sick or on vacation (when they didn't advise the volunteer coordinator in advance),
• staying in unhealthy relationships far too long, 
• trying to "fix" my family members and friends (veiled as "giving advice" or "caring"),
• beating myself up when I made a mistake and not forgiving myself,
• holding myself back from reaching for my own dreams and aspirations for career or ministry,
• procrastinating on implementing healthy habits for myself,
• putting myself down, criticizing my looks, my abilities, and my possessions ALL THE TIME (which was really a manipulation of other people to make them feel guilty or bad for me, and then they'd tell me nice things about myself to "make me feel better"),
• never saying "No" to the demands of my family and/or friends, and
• never saying "Yes" to what would feed my own spirit or heart.

Me in 2004

I was brought up to believe that self-love was selfISH. However, in the last nearly four years, I've learned that if I don't take the time to be gentle to myself, it not only hurts me but those around me, because I will be running on empty and unable to respond - only react ... and usually not well. 

I'm not talking about pandering to Ego (heard a great acronym for EGO: "Edging God Out") or rather, to Egotism, which is a more accurate term for self-centeredness and arrogance.  I'm talking about recognizing that as much as I want others to feel good about themselves because they are human beings ... I too am a human being and I need to cut myself a break sometimes. I need to be good to myself, to treat myself as I would a friend. 

After all, one of the Great Commandments is to "love your neighbor as yourself." Well, if I loathe myself, and do everything in my power to sabotage myself, I won't know how to love my neighbor, will I?

Hmm. That thought keeps occurring to me. It must be important.

So, for the last three and a half years especially, I've been doing more and more to look after myself, to follow my dreams, to work toward what I want for my life, to draw boundaries where before I didn't even know I had a right to them, to say "No" once in a while, and to make time for myself on a regular basis. 

It all makes a difference. My life today as compared to four years ago is ... well, simply astonishing to me. The best thing is - and I have to credit being gentle with myself for part of it - for the first time in my life, I feel comfortable inside my own skin and I am actually ... happy.

Nobody is more surprised about that than I am.  :D

Force Fields

Some time ago, I was talking to an acquaintance of mine and telling her some things about her that I appreciated. I told her that she was a sweet person, or something to that effect. She stopped me right there. "Oh, I dunno about that Judy," she drawled. "I don't think you know me well enough to say that about me." 

When I looked puzzled, she continued. "I think that if you knew what I was really like, you wouldn't say such great things about me." 

Really? 

Does everyone do this? Does everyone put up a force field of behaviors they think are socially acceptable and hide the fears, the failings, the vulnerabilities they think they have, just to "fit in" to what they think is considered 'nice'? 

Huh. I thought I was the only one. The last few years for me has all been about bringing down those force fields and being real so that people knew who I was and not the image I would like them to see. 

I know it's hard - letting down that kind of guard puts a person into a position where he or she might get hurt, attacked, betrayed or (what's worse) deliberately ignored. But when I had all those force fields up and running, I always wondered if people hung around with me (IF they did) because of my facades, what I wanted them to see, or because of who I really was ... if I even knew what that was (let alone them!) 

Sometimes letting down those force fields has resulted in confrontations I would have rather avoided. Sometimes it's even led to enforcing boundaries ... to the point of saying goodbye. And sometimes, friends, it has resulted in ever-deepening relationships with people who are trustworthy, who treat me as an equal rather than an idol or a slave, who deserve the same treatment from me and (usually) get it! 

My definitions of family, friendship, loyalty, forgiveness, trust, and caring have all undergone radical transformations in the last few years. Those who know me best tell me that they hardly recognize me compared to the person I used to be. All I can tell them is that this is an ongoing process, that I do whatever is put in front of me to do, and that I strive to be as real as I can be and trust those who have demonstrated that they are trustworthy. And, strange as it may seem, I like this new me - the one with far fewer force fields - much better than the one who had put up so many of them that she was trapped inside with (it seemed) no way out. 

There is a way out - one force field at a time. 

Lessons Learned and Face Red

It started when the Shift key on my laptop wouldn't work on the left-hand side half the time. It was annoying, but I figured my computer was getting older and it was past the warranty period, so I'd have to find a work-around. I did. 

So it started happening more often. O...kay... Fine, use the workaround all the time. 

Apparently this is a common problem,
spilling coffee on your laptop. I wouldn't recommend it.

Then one day I spilled coffee on the keyboard. 

I tried to clean it up - but - it was too late. About an hour later my beloved MacBook Pro started freaking out. The J key started repeating when I wasn't even touching it - just jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj across any window in which I put my cursor! And my P key stopped working. 

Finally I bit the bullet and decided to go to a local repair shop dedicated to MacIntosh computers. It had been highly recommended. "Can you do the repair here?" I asked. I didn't want it to take forever by sending the machine back to the manufacturer to have it repaired. 

"No problem," came the response. "It's a simple cleaning job. But we have to let it air dry after we clean it, so it will take 3 days." Wellllll... okay, I wanted it done right. So I agreed. They cleaned it, put it back together, turned it on, and it was still not working. "Oh, the casing is warped. It's Unibody construction (one-piece), so we'll have to send away for one. It will cost $400 after all is said and done." 

Hmmmm. Well, it's still way cheaper than a new MacBook. Okay.

Hubby gallantly stepped in and told me I could use his computer (Windows-based) while I was waiting. I was grateful, but it meant that I had to use his machine while sitting in his chair because it was set up a certain way... and his chair was hard on my back. Not to mention - it's Windows. My Mac had spoiled me; I freely admitted it.

So fine... I could spend less time online. We had to take turns anyway, right?

Then Hurricane Sandy put a crimp in delivery schedules for the Unibody, and I had to wait two weeks longer than I would have liked. GrrrUMP. This was really hard to swallow. Days upon days of calling in. Not here yet. Next Tuesday. Friday. No, first of next week.

The casing came in a few days ago, and they put it together and turned it on for a diagnostic. Today. (Keep in mind that I took the computer in there three and a half weeks ago.) This time it wouldn't even stay on for more than a minute. More checking - and then they said that the logic board (also known as the motherboard - the main circuit to which all the other components are attached and communicate with each other) was fried. 

Funny, I thought. All that was wrong when I took it in ... was the J key repeated, the P didn't work and the left Shift key was on the fritz. 

They suggested getting a new machine; the only thing working on the old one was the hard drive. So there'd be the initial repair bill, plus the cost of a new MacBook which - straw breaking the camel's back - they'd have to order in. That would take a week.

I asked if I could have my computer back. Well, it's in pieces, it would take another 2 days to put back together.  Hmm. Finally I said, "I want my hard drive back. Can you manage to at least give me that?" 

After that, I went to the shop where I originally bought the MacBook. I bought a Windows-based computer ... thinking that if a Mac would only last 3 years, I was better off getting a lower-cost computer with top-of-the-line virus protection than getting a new Mac. Even as much as it pained me to resort to Windows again; I'd been spoiled. 

I bought the computer and paid for it and the extended warranty plus a cooling fan to prevent it from heating up too much (my debit card said ouch), and arranged for it to be loaded up with Firefox and Skype, and set up the way I wanted for pickup tomorrow. Then, out of curiosity, (albeit morbid curiosity) I asked them if they still had information on the warranty for the original MacBook - the laptop which was at that moment laying in pieces at the not-to-be-trusted repair shop across town. 

They looked it up for me - they found it in their records.  There was a year left on my extended warranty.

Oh crap. Crap, Crap, and more Crap. Wa-ay too late now - but I wish I'd known that a month ago!! 

I should have taken it to them in the first place. 

I am SO embarrassed. 

There's no way out but to admit it. Einstein was right when he said that only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity, and he wasn't too sure about the former.

I screwed up. Big time.

Lessons learned from all this: 

(1)   Never assume the "warranty has run out by now." CHECK.
(2)   Know when your warranty runs out, and get your machine repaired where you got it, just in case. Keep warranty and repair records in a place that is separate from your computer's hard drive - because if your computer stops working, you'll want to be able to get at the information.(3)   Never, NEVER leave anything liquid on the same surface where you keep your computer. If you have to eat soup, or drink coffee or cola or whatever when you are at your computer, make sure that:

• you set the liquid container down on a separate surface than the one on which you keep your computer, 
• you don't hover the liquid above the keyboard (i.e., turn your head to one side to drink, or push away from the computer to eat your soup!), and 
• that the surface you set your drink/liquid on is solid and doesn't allow for spillage and inadvertent dripping on the machine. 

Life lessons learned: 

(1)  No matter how bad you think things are, they can always get worse.
(2)  Life does go on - and it gets more expensive. Live with it.
(3)  Don't take yourself or your possessions too seriously. 
(4)  Sometimes you just have to cut your losses, face the music and take your lumps. Life hands you innumerable opportunities to make a royal chump of yourself. Learn to roll with the punches ... and know that it's okay to be human.

People can relate to it, for one thing.