Saturday I had a wonderful lazy afternoon with a dear friend. We lunched ever so slowly on my balcony, enjoying a little prosecco as we looked at some art photos she had developed and talked of both past and anticipated travel adventures. We luxuriated on a comfortably warm, late summer afternoon. We also spoke of challenges and deeper things.
Tonight I shared a bi-weekly call with another friend. For the first bit I was walking as we talked, and then I found a shady park bench and just enjoyed the conversation. We chatted of triumphs, challenges, and, aware of the coming Jewish New Year, of hopes for the year ahead.
One of the Seven Habits of Happiness in the class I just completed is "Relationships." The first habit we explored in the class, it is the one in which I feel the greatest void. I've truly pondered how I can fix that situation, but I can't resurrect family members that are no longer with us. When I've moved, although friends have said they would come and visit, each time only one has actually done that--one time. One of the prices I've paid for needing to start over again later in life by moving to a new city is that at a certain stage in life my contemporaries are solidly in long-term relationships. I have a few friends who are there occasionally, but the truth is that they are infrequent relationships.
These were the first times since my class that I spent time with friends. With each, I really savored our time together. While I often rush from one event in my life to another without really enjoying any of it, in these times I was present, totally in the moment, mindful, and grateful--all habits of happiness.
As a definite introvert, I more often than not go through life happily alone, but my class and time on Saturday heightened my awareness of how relationships enrich my life, so instead of slipping into church, participating in worship, and quietly slipping out the side door as I usually do, yesterday I made a point to introduce myself to a couple I hadn't seen or talked to before. Today, I went out of my way to talk with someone in my office that I usually just greet in passing.
I believe that my happiness boils down to holding myself accountable. Taking a class won't do it unless I act on what I have learned, and this week I've really learned how important relationships are. I am holding myself accountable for creating more of them.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Remorse and Redemption
I just saw "Ricki and the Flash," Merryl Streep's new movie about a woman who abandons her three children and husband to pursue a career as a rock musician. Although Ricki attempts to put the family part of her life behind her, the hole in the center of her life gnaws at the edges of it, stealing her joy and capacity to love. In the end (no spoiler here) she is able to redeem herself.
During the 30-minute walk home from the movie the themes of remorse and redemption kept toying with me. I did a little research when I got home and kept bumping up against Khaled Hosseini's best selling novel The Kite Runner about the boy Amir who betrays his best friend Hassan. When his guilt gnaws at him, he attempts to assuage his pain with yet another duplicitous act.
Eventually, both Ricki and Amir find redemption and atonement. The word "atonement" has been broken to demonstrate its meaning as "at-onement." Atonement does imply a healing--a softening of the separation created by betrayal until we are able to be whole, both within ourselves and with the victim(s) of the act.
While I like to assuage my own guilt at pain I know I have caused by saying "I was doing the best I could with where I was at the time." But, is that enough? Twelve-step programs demand "making amends." In Amir's case, he is able to adopt Hassan's son after he has been orphaned. Ricki, too, finds a way to heal relationships. Neither can remove the pain caused, but each is able to bridge the gap caused by their acts.
As I walked this evening, I felt truly remorseful. I know that I haven't always been the easiest person to live with, and I have struggled with how to follow my heart without being selfish and hurtful of others in my life. I have the deepest regret at the pain I caused my ex-husband when I, not that much unlike Ricki except there were no children, moved across the country to pursue to dream to be an author, coach, and speaker. I also know that the same move really hurt my adopted parents with whom I was very close before they died.
I believe that remorse is the first step toward redemption, but atonement requires "making amends," and that is often much harder, especially if someone isn't still in my life or, as with mama and papa, have even passed away. I wish I could say I knew how to bridge the gulf that I've created, but I really don't know how. What I do know is that when my intention is clear, God will provide me the means to do what I need to do. All things considered, I guess that is really all I need to know.
During the 30-minute walk home from the movie the themes of remorse and redemption kept toying with me. I did a little research when I got home and kept bumping up against Khaled Hosseini's best selling novel The Kite Runner about the boy Amir who betrays his best friend Hassan. When his guilt gnaws at him, he attempts to assuage his pain with yet another duplicitous act.
Eventually, both Ricki and Amir find redemption and atonement. The word "atonement" has been broken to demonstrate its meaning as "at-onement." Atonement does imply a healing--a softening of the separation created by betrayal until we are able to be whole, both within ourselves and with the victim(s) of the act.
While I like to assuage my own guilt at pain I know I have caused by saying "I was doing the best I could with where I was at the time." But, is that enough? Twelve-step programs demand "making amends." In Amir's case, he is able to adopt Hassan's son after he has been orphaned. Ricki, too, finds a way to heal relationships. Neither can remove the pain caused, but each is able to bridge the gap caused by their acts.
As I walked this evening, I felt truly remorseful. I know that I haven't always been the easiest person to live with, and I have struggled with how to follow my heart without being selfish and hurtful of others in my life. I have the deepest regret at the pain I caused my ex-husband when I, not that much unlike Ricki except there were no children, moved across the country to pursue to dream to be an author, coach, and speaker. I also know that the same move really hurt my adopted parents with whom I was very close before they died.
I believe that remorse is the first step toward redemption, but atonement requires "making amends," and that is often much harder, especially if someone isn't still in my life or, as with mama and papa, have even passed away. I wish I could say I knew how to bridge the gulf that I've created, but I really don't know how. What I do know is that when my intention is clear, God will provide me the means to do what I need to do. All things considered, I guess that is really all I need to know.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Micro-moments of Love
One of the greatest discoveries in my Psychology of Happiness class was a YouTube video, featuring Barbara Fredrickson, a dual professor in psychology and business at the University of North Carolina. Entitled "Love--A New Lens on Thriving,"* Fredrickson describes what happens to us physiologically when we love someone. She isn't necessarily talking about romantic love or "chemistry," but more universal love.
Not only does love make us feel better, i.e., have more positive emotions, but the health benefits are significant, ranging from the production of Mother Nature's feel-good chemical oxytocin, nicknamed the hormone of love, to deeper sleep, and reduced depression. Furthermore, it increases trust and resilience.
Not only does love make us feel better, i.e., have more positive emotions, but the health benefits are significant, ranging from the production of Mother Nature's feel-good chemical oxytocin, nicknamed the hormone of love, to deeper sleep, and reduced depression. Furthermore, it increases trust and resilience.
Among other research findings, Fredrickson reports that in as little as 10 minutes of loving kindness meditation a day over a three-month period we can change the vagal tone of the heart, something previously believed to be unchangeable. What occurs is that our heart slows on the exhale, actually producing a positive moment of warmth and love.
I wondered, exactly what is loving kindness meditation? I did a little research, and, while there are countless descriptions, quite simply put, it is thinking positive thoughts of love about the world around us and imagining those positive feelings flowing in and out of our hearts with the breath. (If there are authorities on loving kindness meditation out there cringing, please jump in on the conversation, but this is a three-line description, not a dissertation.) In 10 minutes of this practice a day, we can literally change our physiology in a positive way.
In the three weeks since I first watched the video, I've been practicing for 10 minutes a day, and I've discovered an amazing thing. Just by starting my day with the loving kindness meditation, I am able to "plug into" that wonderful positive, relaxed feeling at just the expression of intention during the day. Very cool stuff...when I am awake enough to realize I need to pull in the heavy duty love chemicals.
The second item of interest in the video that I will talk about has to do with creating connection. Eye contact and smiles have an amazing ability to evoke mimicry, whereby we unconsciously begin mirroring the other person which creates even more connection. (The technical term if bio-behavioral synchrony.) A virtuous cycle of connection leading to more connection to even more connection is perpetuated. We build escalating love and trust. As long as we feel safe we can generate "micro-moments of love" just by making connection--eye contact, smiles, touch, or voice.
I've been pondering The Grocery Store Game, which I've written about a number of times. (See the blog-post for December 1, 2013, "Could We Change The World in 30 Days?") The secret to the game was to make eye contact and really feel gratitude as the player says, "Thank you." I've played it many times, as have a number of my coaching clients. There can be a real and sincere connection made in a split second at a grocery store check stand. While Fredrickson spoke of connections with those we know, as I read about Fredrickson's micro-moments of love, I couldn't help but wonder, is that what is happening in The Grocery Store Game?
While the intention of The Grocery Store Game is to give a simple gift of gratitude to a stranger, it would seem that as we play it, the giver of gratitude is actually starting in motion many positive physical benefits for him/herself as well.
As I think about both my ability to "drop into" the feeling of loving kindness and generating micro-moments of love through connection, my belief in the ability of humankind to generate a "river of love" that connects all of us is renewed. That we might be healthier because we have is an added benefit.
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxoPLtRnxZs
I wondered, exactly what is loving kindness meditation? I did a little research, and, while there are countless descriptions, quite simply put, it is thinking positive thoughts of love about the world around us and imagining those positive feelings flowing in and out of our hearts with the breath. (If there are authorities on loving kindness meditation out there cringing, please jump in on the conversation, but this is a three-line description, not a dissertation.) In 10 minutes of this practice a day, we can literally change our physiology in a positive way.
In the three weeks since I first watched the video, I've been practicing for 10 minutes a day, and I've discovered an amazing thing. Just by starting my day with the loving kindness meditation, I am able to "plug into" that wonderful positive, relaxed feeling at just the expression of intention during the day. Very cool stuff...when I am awake enough to realize I need to pull in the heavy duty love chemicals.
The second item of interest in the video that I will talk about has to do with creating connection. Eye contact and smiles have an amazing ability to evoke mimicry, whereby we unconsciously begin mirroring the other person which creates even more connection. (The technical term if bio-behavioral synchrony.) A virtuous cycle of connection leading to more connection to even more connection is perpetuated. We build escalating love and trust. As long as we feel safe we can generate "micro-moments of love" just by making connection--eye contact, smiles, touch, or voice.
I've been pondering The Grocery Store Game, which I've written about a number of times. (See the blog-post for December 1, 2013, "Could We Change The World in 30 Days?") The secret to the game was to make eye contact and really feel gratitude as the player says, "Thank you." I've played it many times, as have a number of my coaching clients. There can be a real and sincere connection made in a split second at a grocery store check stand. While Fredrickson spoke of connections with those we know, as I read about Fredrickson's micro-moments of love, I couldn't help but wonder, is that what is happening in The Grocery Store Game?
While the intention of The Grocery Store Game is to give a simple gift of gratitude to a stranger, it would seem that as we play it, the giver of gratitude is actually starting in motion many positive physical benefits for him/herself as well.
As I think about both my ability to "drop into" the feeling of loving kindness and generating micro-moments of love through connection, my belief in the ability of humankind to generate a "river of love" that connects all of us is renewed. That we might be healthier because we have is an added benefit.
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZxoPLtRnxZs
Saturday, August 8, 2015
Housecleaning
I have just finished a fast-paced course on the Psychology of Happiness. There was a lot of writing and even more reading, as well as participation in online class forums. While I have definitely just done a major sigh of relief, I will miss some of the fruitful conversations (and consequent personal insights) that I've had with my classmates. Not much of content was new to me but the self-discoveries along the way were invaluable.
There was a twice a year ritual that I experienced while growing up in the Midwest: housecleaning. We cleaned more than twice a year, but the fall and spring housecleaning was different. Literally everything in the house was turned over and cleaned. Windows were washed. Drawers were emptied, sorted to dispose of things that had outlived their usefulness or size, and reordered. More than just cleaning, the ritual was cleaning out.
For a few years in my adulthood, I continued the ritual, but gradually it went from twice a year to once a year. First the windows were dropped off. Then the cleaning out the drawers fell away. Gradually, the ritual just disappeared. Even on my way-too-frequent moves, I seemed not to find the time or priority to clean out.
As my class has been drawing to an end, I've felt myself itching to clean out. That may at least be in part due to the fact that stacks of reading materials and outlines for essays have overtaken my small desk. A second computer that is still not been completely replaced by the new one, and related technology items, add to the disarray as does an inappropriate gift I received a few months ago and haven't quite known what to do with. I've wished I could just push it all into a waste bin and make it go away, but I know things of value lurk in the piles. I think that has just been symbolic of what has been going on inside of me as this class is drawing to a close.
I've been feeling the need to psychologically and spiritual clean out as well. After 14 years of serious financial struggle since the failure of my business, I am finally to a place where I can let my shoulders drop a bit. After five years of the most dysfunctional work environment that I've ever witnessed in 25 years of consulting with organizations, three layers of management above me have either been removed or quit in the last months. While we are now at about half-staff, and a crushing workload faces me daily as far as I can see, I can find potential that new leadership may bring. Hope is on the horizon.
All that leads me to have discovered in these three weeks that I've been in serious fight-or-flight mode for years. For so long, that it has become habitual. While the content of the class has not been anything I didn't know or even anything that I didn't practice for years, it has helped me re-member who I am. I say re-member because it feels like part of myself was put on a shelf and forgotten. If this class hasn't helped me pull it off the shelf and reintegrate it completely, at the very least I have it in my hands--all of me in my hands.
The cleaning out that I really feel the need for right now is getting rid of all the habits and behaviors that came with the fight-or-flight so that I literally have room to breathe again. And, the funny thing is that I also think I want to actually clean out, not just metaphorically.
The myth of Psyche demonstrates that the role of women is to sort, pick out what is useful and what has outlived it usefulness. I think my sorting muscles have atrophied, and physically cleaning my desk, files, closet, and pantry will help me get them in shape for the spiritual sorting I am beginning. While I might like to treat my psyche like my desk and make all the clutter just go away, I know that good stuff is buried in there that I don't want to lose. So, sort I will.
There was a twice a year ritual that I experienced while growing up in the Midwest: housecleaning. We cleaned more than twice a year, but the fall and spring housecleaning was different. Literally everything in the house was turned over and cleaned. Windows were washed. Drawers were emptied, sorted to dispose of things that had outlived their usefulness or size, and reordered. More than just cleaning, the ritual was cleaning out.
For a few years in my adulthood, I continued the ritual, but gradually it went from twice a year to once a year. First the windows were dropped off. Then the cleaning out the drawers fell away. Gradually, the ritual just disappeared. Even on my way-too-frequent moves, I seemed not to find the time or priority to clean out.
As my class has been drawing to an end, I've felt myself itching to clean out. That may at least be in part due to the fact that stacks of reading materials and outlines for essays have overtaken my small desk. A second computer that is still not been completely replaced by the new one, and related technology items, add to the disarray as does an inappropriate gift I received a few months ago and haven't quite known what to do with. I've wished I could just push it all into a waste bin and make it go away, but I know things of value lurk in the piles. I think that has just been symbolic of what has been going on inside of me as this class is drawing to a close.
I've been feeling the need to psychologically and spiritual clean out as well. After 14 years of serious financial struggle since the failure of my business, I am finally to a place where I can let my shoulders drop a bit. After five years of the most dysfunctional work environment that I've ever witnessed in 25 years of consulting with organizations, three layers of management above me have either been removed or quit in the last months. While we are now at about half-staff, and a crushing workload faces me daily as far as I can see, I can find potential that new leadership may bring. Hope is on the horizon.
All that leads me to have discovered in these three weeks that I've been in serious fight-or-flight mode for years. For so long, that it has become habitual. While the content of the class has not been anything I didn't know or even anything that I didn't practice for years, it has helped me re-member who I am. I say re-member because it feels like part of myself was put on a shelf and forgotten. If this class hasn't helped me pull it off the shelf and reintegrate it completely, at the very least I have it in my hands--all of me in my hands.
The cleaning out that I really feel the need for right now is getting rid of all the habits and behaviors that came with the fight-or-flight so that I literally have room to breathe again. And, the funny thing is that I also think I want to actually clean out, not just metaphorically.
The myth of Psyche demonstrates that the role of women is to sort, pick out what is useful and what has outlived it usefulness. I think my sorting muscles have atrophied, and physically cleaning my desk, files, closet, and pantry will help me get them in shape for the spiritual sorting I am beginning. While I might like to treat my psyche like my desk and make all the clutter just go away, I know that good stuff is buried in there that I don't want to lose. So, sort I will.
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