Welcome to the middle path

My photo
Sporadic photos and notes from a Psyche-midwife, cheerleader, anthropologist--aka clinical social worker in therapy practice. Photos are usually mine except for those of historical events/famous people. Music relevant to the daily topic is often included in a web video embedded below the blog. Click on highlighted links in the copy to get to source or supplemental material. For contact information, see my website @ janasvoboda.com or click on the button to the right below. Join in the conversation.
Showing posts with label being different. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being different. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Cerebral Soulful Cinema: Captain Fantastic lives up to its name.



“You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.” –Emilie Autumn




If you’re local-ish, head down to the quirky delight that is Albany, Oregon’s Pix Theatre for a showing of Captain Fantastic, and see what good movies are made of.


There’s lots of types of good movies.  Some tell a tiny story with gem-like detail.  Some create a wormhole for your mind to escape life for a couple of hours.  And brilliant ones like Captain Fantastic let you live deeply in another life, which might not look anything like yours on the surface but has all the essential ingredients of not just a good story but a real life:  realism in emotion, sometimes brutal honesty, true in-the-moment ecstatic joy and sorry and confusion and clear purpose and wisdom and big sticky messes.  “Oh, this life of mud and miracles”, sings Richard Bucknard.  “It’s just the prettiest little burden, isn’t it.”

There’s plenty of all of this bounty in one two hour movie about a family on the outside.  Cultures clash, there is dancing and love and hating and death and joy.  And there are ideals that cannot be manifested without smashing into opposing ideals.  It’s about family, and worlds we wish to create and the cost of being a creator.  It’s simply the closest capture to how things really are, even when it is pushing an extended metaphor as an explanation.

Go see it.  Let it stir up some values checks for you. Let it remind you of our common need and fear of connections. 

Playing this week at the Pix in Albany.

Cerebral Soulful Cinema: Captain Fantastic lives up to its name.



“You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.” –Emilie Autumn




If you’re local-ish, head down to the quirky delight that is Albany, Oregon’s Pix Theatre for a showing of Captain Fantastic, and see what good movies are made of.


There’s lots of types of good movies.  Some tell a tiny story with gem-like detail.  Some create a wormhole for your mind to escape life for a couple of hours.  And brilliant ones like Captain Fantastic let you live deeply in another life, which might not look anything like yours on the surface but has all the essential ingredients of not just a good story but a real life:  realism in emotion, sometimes brutal honesty, true in-the-moment ecstatic joy and sorry and confusion and clear purpose and wisdom and big sticky messes.  “Oh, this life of mud and miracles”, sings Richard Bucknard.  “It’s just the prettiest little burden, isn’t it.”

There’s plenty of all of this bounty in one two hour movie about a family on the outside.  Cultures clash, there is dancing and love and hating and death and joy.  And there are ideals that cannot be manifested without smashing into opposing ideals.  It’s about family, and worlds we wish to create and the cost of being a creator.  It’s simply the closest capture to how things really are, even when it is pushing an extended metaphor as an explanation.

Go see it.  Let it stir up some values checks for you. Let it remind you of our common need and fear of connections. 

Playing this week at the Pix in Albany.

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Strangers in Strange Lands

natural variation = added benefit, even if uncomfortable
Tonight I have been thinking about mental illness and diagnosis, and the benefits and problems of trying to sort people into boxes.
I'm blessed or cursed with not being a black and white thinker.  When a friend forwarded me this article that showed many diagnostic labels of mental illness share common genetic links, I had a strong internal reaction.  The article said that related people sharing "genetic aberrations" had risks for several mental illnesses.  What they found most interesting is that the effects of the same gene change could be expressed in different illnesses, for example with one twin showing schizophrenia and another bipolar disorder.

I have seen the devastating effects of mental illness in this and previous generations.  I don't doubt that our endocrine system, not to mention our brain, is no less immune to the insults of living, environment, random gene accident that our other organs.  As such I think it deserves absolutely no additional moral interpretation-- it's an organ not functioning as we expect it, or an organ that is ill.  I don't see true mental dis-ease as any more morally damning than a kidney problem or a under/over active pancreas. It's not a matter of poor willpower or moral turpitude when it fails to work properly all the time.  The stigma we hold to mental illness is fear based on an ego level:  "there but for the grace of God/my will/clean living/etc" go I, and let's just blame the victim.  It's our defense mechanisms acting out and claming control over one particular, very complicated organ-- the brain.  I don't blame anyone for feeling that.  We manage anxiety by figuring out all the ways this scary outcome cannot, will not apply to us.

 grateful for artists to reinterpret the world
But what it you are indeed well-represented in the genetic dice roll as an outlier?  What if you are one of those kernels that does well in dry seasons and all it does is rain?  You are incredibly logical, efficient and detail oriented in group that values people-reading and glad-handing and seeing all forests, all trees?  Or exceptionally sensitive, just dripping with mirror neurons such that you can barely hear what people are saying because their pain or agitation or anger is sharply evident to you in your interactions? 

When as a nation or a world we start to judge, to evaluate and grade and degrade varations as being good or bad, it's important to step back and see the forests in all those funny looking trees.  We need most everybody, even those on the edges of the bell curve.  We need engineers that can ignore well-meaning but emotional calls for esthetics that detract dangerously from functionality.  We need artists who can articulate the depths of joy and suffering that are rellly, truly there in most of us even if we don't have the language to express them.  We need the people who are moved to tears by the unspoiled natural environment to save it from slaughter for those of us who may not see its utility and healing potential.  We need the number crunchers and the emoting advocates to create a world that works not just logically, but on a heart level.
We need the schizophrenics who can call out bullshit and make us uncomfortable, and the persons with Autism who can do the same and remind us to question our habits of not saying what we really mean.  We need the melancholic poet and artist  who pull us pearls out of their pain, and the hypmanic who creates entire symphonies in six day no-sleep spurts.

We also need to be safe, and most of us need to be in relationship, to have meaning and purpose, to serve.  On the edges of those bell curves, that doesn't happen.  It's hard to be useful when you are violent and hallucinating.  What if we saw that as just out of balance, not wrong?  If we save "crazy" as a description of out of balance behavior or thinking, instead of applying it to people?

When our kidneys get out of balance, we may have trouble peeing, or pee too much.  Too far our of balance and they aren't filtering our blood, and that can be life threatening.  We can mess them up with poor hydration, certain food issues (for those stone formers, drinking lots of tea and eating spinach can start some painful episodes).  When we get symptomatic, it's important to pay attention get back in balance, through treatment or lifestyle changes.  Sometimes that means medicine.  Few people resist taking an antibiotic when they have a raging infection, or a cough syrup if they are staying up all night hacking.  It's not seen as weak, it's sensible.  When through stress or illness our mental symptoms increase, we need to take care, and that can encompass many forms.

But when we are merely in our tendencies and not particularly imbalanced into illness, perhaps a more sustainable approach is to learn to live with our differences, and do what we can to maximize their strengths: creativity and productivity in hypomania and some forms of melancholia, , exploration and adventure sports for the low-reactors, emotional wisdom, compassion and social sensitivity for those with the extra mirror neurons, exactitude and thoughtful planning and execution for those on the high-functioning Asperger's spectrum. 

more same than different
We all have our soft spots.  Sometimes they present little obvious hardship, espcially if we're aware of them and make reasonable accommodations.
Nearsighted?  Get glasses. Fairskinned?  Disability if you live in a sunny climate(sunscreen and clothing!), good for Vit D production if you don't.  Sickle-cell anemia?  Good mutation if you live in malaria laden countries and hope to reproduce before you die, but not so hot if you want to live past 40.

Every gift has its burden, and every burden has its gift.  Labels are good only as far as they help people predict and avoid or accomodate predictible burdens.  If you know you have "Engineer Mind" you are going to want to develop rules around social intelligence to enjoy positive relationships.  If you're on the other end of that spectrum you'll need to learn that not every problem can be solved via emotion and relationship; sometimes you need MATH.

We all have our stuff.  Some of us seem to have a lot more than a fair share of the hard stuff.  Where ever you are in the spectrum, take some time to apprecaite gifts from those outliers.  We need them over time.  And if like Kingsolver's kernels they didn't land in a time where their difference works so well in the enviroment, don't blame them. Help them to find the place where their difference works.

On that note, here's a couple keen articles about job agencies trying to do just that.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/money/2012/apr/06/autistic-workers-employers-ignorance
and in Corvallis:  http://www.gazettetimes.com/news/local/finding-jobs-for-those-harder-to-place/article_e5118904-7f18-11e2-8e16-0019bb2963f4.html





Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Sermon: "The People That Scare Us: Getting Beyond Tolerance"

Every once in a while, I give a sermon at the local UU, usually on some topic I've been thinking about a lot the previous months.  If you've read my blog before, you might recognize a few of the lines in this sermon-- I was on the tail end of a nasty virus, and company from out of town, so I cheated a little and lifted a bit from previous entries.

It was a delightful morning.  My friend Chareane had graciously agreed to be the supporting speaker and do the opening and closing words and the meditation.  Chareane is my personal inspirational hero.  After raising kids, she's taken up accordian, mastered ceramics, and learned salsa.  Although I knew she'd do a fine job, she completely rocked a reading of Maya Angelo and quotes from Malcolm X and the bible.  When I expressed my admiration, she said she'd been taking a class on "the teacher as performer".  Wow.  What a life-long learner she is.

Friend, fiddler and vocalist Willeke Frankzerda had been the musical guest at my last sermon two years ago, where she brought the congregation to tears.    At 13, her voice and artistry has blossomed even more.  She has a pure and beautiful voice and presence.  It was an amazing performance, and even more remarkable since she had returned only hours before from traveling in Idaho and California at fiddle camps.

Here's the sermon if you'd like to read it. Wish I could include the video of Chareane and Willeke.  I am truly blessed to have such talented friends.

THE PEOPLE THAT SCARE US:  MOVING BEYOND TOLERANCE

Jana Svoboda; Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Corvallis, July 10th, 2011

Opening Words:  (read by Chareane Wimbley-Gouveia.):  "We need more light about each other. Light creates understanding, understanding creates love, love creates patience, and patience creates unity."    Malcolm X

Opening Song:  “Soul Meets Body”, by Death Cab for Cutie, performed (vocals and violin) by Willeke Idzerda

(Audience participation music:  “Hail to the Chief “ as introit to UU ATTACK AD)
(with movie-trailer voice-over voice)
“Unitarianism:  Is it a cult?

YAHOO says yes.  At least that was the best answer, chosen out of many, to one man’s concern about his children’s exposure to UU beliefs.  “Pagans can worship next to Christians who can worship next to wiccans who can worship next to atheists or whatever.”  

Do we really want our children exposed to “whatever” worship?

Not scared yet?  Try this on for size:  Unitarians, who gave up the Ten Commandments for the Seven Strongly Held Suggestions, think YOUR CHILDREN should THINK FOR THEMSELVES.  Don’t believe it?  It’s right there, Number 4 in their little pocket brochure:
“A free and responsible search for truth and meaning.”

Free?  Then what is that basket they send around during the service?  

But wait—there’s more.  And don’t just take it from me—here’s a response from a SELF-PROFESSED Unitarian:
“We take ‘The inherent worth and dignity of every person" seriously. That means even if he is black, white, brown, red or yellow; even if he is poor, or gay, even if she is a lesbian or homeless, or she used to be a man, or he stammers because he has an IQ of 140 trapped in an 80-year old body that suffered some strokes, or her legs don't work. ‘

Got it?  ANYBODY can attend.  These people have  NO STANDARDS WHATSOEVER  as to who can sit in the pew and worship.  Mixing it up right there with YOUR CHILDREN.

Another cultist gave this response, which I’d say speaks for itself:
“Ours is one of the most difficult religions to put into practice. We are charged to seek the truth, not just sit passively and accept blindly that one small group has a corner on the truth because they say so.”

What kind of UNI-VARIBLE is that?

And how about THIS?
Number 6 in the UU agenda:  The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all.  If you thought the GAY AGENDA was scary—well, there’s a word for No. 6.  

COMMUNISM.

 “WHATEVER” WORSHIP.  NO STANDARDS.  “DIFFICULT”.  

Is THIS what we want for our impressionable youth?

UU: Mixing it up in pews in YOUR town.”
------------
Homily:
That ad was a farce.  You knew that, right?  But if you watched any television during the fall, it may have sounded familiar—because it was based on the political ads from recent elections.
Welcome and thank you for joining us on this beautiful summer day in your individual searches for truth and meaning—one of the seven principles serving as the foundation for the UU faith.  Though plain and straightforward in language, these tenets are anything but easy in practice.  Today’s sermon is about three other UU prinicples:  The inherent worth and dignity of every person, justice, equity and compassion in human relations, and the goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all.  In other words, getting rid of the concept of the “other” and getting to WE.

Who could argue ?

Frankly, plenty of people.

The history of Unitarianism is one of being the Other, in Europe during a conservative Christian time.  Many of the founders were put to death as heretics because of the threatening ideas they espoused, such as thinking for oneself, without relying on an external, appointed spiritual authority.  As recently as 2008, Unitarians in Knoxville were murdered by a man who stated he had targeted t the church because of its liberal beliefs.

So Unitarians should know something about being an “other.”  

But we’re human, and humans when scared start to batten down into either/or thinking.   We go to that “You’re with us, or you’re against us” place.  We slip into our reptilian brains, especially if we think our piece of the pie is up for grabs and we may not be the only one in line.  

Last year,  I had a terrible dream.  There had been a murder in an area I was vacationing, and when I came back from hiking to the home where I was staying, the door was ajar. The house was ok, but as I went to secure the back door, the murderer came in, and made clear his intent to harm me.  At some point I remembered what I did for a living, and started talking him down, buying time.  I'll spare you the long winded details, but what was interesting to me in the dream was that as we talked, and I listened to him with genuine curiosity and compassion, he grew smaller and smaller, and I realized I didn't need to fear him at all.

Jung says dreams come to us in service of of Psyche, as letters from the unconscious.  My webmaster pal Hal might say some dreams come in reaction to the pastrami we had for dinner.  This particular dream may have been symptomatic of too much CNN.  But since I'd seen Don Quixote in Ashland the previous weekend-- well, I saw a different possibility.  It seemed a representation of how our fears can become gigantic, hold us hostage.  How they can cause us much more trouble than they are actually capable of inflicting, with our help.  And about how when we face them, with curiosity and compassion, they shrink and lose their power. 

Even those who consider themselves exceptionally open-minded can get drawn into “other-ism”.  It only takes a name drop.  Michelle Bachman.  Sarah Palin.  Newt.  O’Reilly.  As Anne Lamott put it,  “You can safely assume you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”

That’s not how I want to be.  I don’t like it.  I can fall into it, but I don’t like it.  

When my oldest daughter was quite a bit younger, she would skip into rants about people who she found difficult, intolerant, un-justice-fiable.  I would get after her for her tone, her intolerance. 

This week we talked about that.  She’s dating a Muslim, and it led to a conversation about learning about the Other.   She said, “You know how you always said to me, don’t speak hatefully, even in jest, because it puts more hate out there in the world? “

“ Did I ever tell you how when Leigh and I moved in together, and both our boyfriends moved to Japan that same month,  so we fake-hated Japan because it was an outlet?  And it was all a big joke, until one day I was at Safeway and this Asian woman walked by and I automatically went UGH and sneered?  And I was like WOAH!  What the HELL?”

“And yeah, I thought you were full of BS growing up.  But that moment I got it.  I really got it.  And now I try to practice that.  It isn’t just that we should speak well because we don’t want to offend others, but because it really does shape the way we view the world, and I think this is a very important piece of the puzzle.” 

She’s right.  The software—speech—informs the hardware—thinking.  The more that we accept that Other-ism is a reasonable way to think, or just practice it thoughtlessly, the more it ingrains and shapes us.

And there are so many ways to be an other.  Even though we are so genetically similar that the concept of race no longer makes any biological sense (that’s a whole other sermon, but ask me for references),  there are millions of ways to be different.  Even “identical” twins show subtle variations in their genes due to minor, spontaneous mutations occurring during gestation.  

 That’s in our genetic interest, because these differences will sometimes be adaptable to environmental and socio-political differences occurring at the time.  So the anxious person, hyper-alert to tiny details in their environment, will anticipate and avoid threats their fearless brethren will not--  and the fearless will leave the safety of home to seek food and opportunity when home cannot provide them.  Sometimes these variations are boons for a few generations and then become hindrances.  Long ago, a few African children’s blood developed a strange sickle shape to some blood cells, providing protection from a plague that would have killed them before reproductive age.   That’s not as handy when life spans double, other options for Malaria protections are found, and the blood change results in a post-reproductive but early death.

Other-ness covers all sorts of variables.  Hair color--  did you know that only 1-2% of the world’s population is red-headed?  Skin color.  Politics.  Religion.  Philosophies.  Class values and differences, socio-economic circumstance.   Gender, including all the blends within.  Learning ability.  Education.  Sexuality.  Age.  Physical challenges and variants.    And it’s not only the underdogs that get “othered”.  As a clumsy, bookwormish nerd kid whose family never owned a new car or went to Disneyland, I was skeptical and frankly prejudiced against jocks and rich people.  

That’s a telling point, because prejudice tells us much more about ourselves than those we believe to be the other.   It’s often our shadow stuff emerging.  For those of you unfamiliar, therapist and philosopher Carl Jung spoke of our Shadow as being all the parts of ourselves or our conceptions we felt were unacceptable or disallowed.  And we either fear is part of us, or wish we could have a little part of.  A poster boy of shadow stuff was Ted Haggard, former prayer partner to Bush/leader of the Evangelical Association of the US and a ringleader in the anti-gay rights movement last decade.  He was busted in 2006 by a gay man, whom he’d paid for sex for several years.  Although he was declared “completely heterosexual” after some initial therapy, he’s recently come out as bisexual.  If he’d been able to admit it initially, Colorado might have not passed its anti-gay initiatives.   

Think of it like this:  you are in a body of water, brushing your arm along the surface, when your elbow hits an icecube and breaks.  Why?  It’s because you’ve bumped up against something big, deep and dangerous in yourself you’ve not dealt with.  When we have an iceberg reaction to the other—there is work we need to do.  And our personal work becomes community work.  Because it ripples out.  The collective conscious needs to be:  CONSCIOUS.  Of what we are putting out there.  And how it effects the world we claim to want to live in.

How do we mend our separations?  By remembering that we are all, as some author put it, looking at the same world through separate, tiny little lenses—and thinking we have the same view.  To enlarge the view, stretch your vision.  We’re scared of what we don’t know.  And when we align ourselves only with like minds, we reinforce the belief we are the norm.  Research on dealing with fear tells us the best way to reduce fear is through exposure.  Kierkegaard put it this way—to grow, move toward what makes you anxious.  Expand, don’t contract.

Which leads to this challenge, offered by Omega Institute founder Elizabeth Lesser:  TAKE THE OTHER TO LUNCH.  

 (The following are direct excepts from the talk, available here:  http://www.ted.com/talks/elizabeth_lesser_take_the_other_to_lunch.html)

She goes on to say:  “I’m deeply disturbed by the ways in which all of our cultures are demonizing the other—by the voice we are giving to the most divisive among us.”

“Listen to these titles of some of the best selling books from both sides of the political divide here in the US:  Liberalism is a Mental Disorder.  Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot.  Patriotics and Pinhead.  Arguing with Idiots.  ….They’re supposedly tongue in cheek, but they’re actually dangerous.”

“Now here’s a title that may sound familiar, but whose author may surprise you:  'Four and a Half Years of Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice'.  Who wrote that? That was Adolph Hitler’s first title for Mein Kamph, My Struggle,  the book that launched the Nazi Party.”

“The worst eras in human history, whether in Cambodia or Germany or Rwanda, they  start like this, with negative otherizing, and then they morph, into violent extremism.”

So who is the other?

Lesser says:  “Anyone whose lifestyle frightens you or whose point of view makes smoke come out of your ears”.  

Take someone to lunch.  Get to know one person from a group you may have negatively stereotyped. Let them know what you’re up to.  Use her guidelines: Don’t persuade, defend or interrupt.  Be curious, be conversational, be real, and listen.

I’d add:  make it your goal not to “tolerate” them, but to KNOW THEM. To understand them.
Try her three questions:  “ Share some of your life experiences with me.  What issues deeply concern you?  And what have you always wanted to ask someone from the other side?”

We are ALL somebody else’s OTHER.  Lesser quotes the wise words of Mother Theresa:   “The problem of the world is we draw the circle of our family too small.”

I hope you take this challenge very, very personally.  And as Gandhi says, become part of the change you wish to see in the world.  I look forward to hearing your stories.

MusicMother Nature’s Son, John Lennon/ Paul McCartney, performed (violin, vocals) by Wileke Frankzerda.  

MeditationWe The People, by Maya Angelo, read by Chareane Wimbley- Gouviea

Closing Words, from the Book of Hebrews:  Let brotherly love continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.  

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

CrazyGenius

Continuing the theme...


Thanks for the tip on this one, Marilyn.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The Moviegoer's Guide to Being Different

Recently I mentioned the movie "MicMac" in a post about being different and accepted.  That film featured characters with TBI (traumatic brain injury) and PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) as well as a few more esoteric and generic variations of the human condition, such as being super short, strong, flexible, mathematical, or mechanical.

That got me thinking of a few other movies about weirdness.   No deep detail here:  google/bing titles for more.  But I've seen 'em and loved 'em, and maybe you will too. Mostly these are quirky comedies.  There's enough suffering in the real world.  And since everyone is different, each person's experience with a particular difference will also be (did you follow that?)  Still, these movies can be great teaching tools for increasing understanding and acceptance of mental illness and other sorts of personal diversity.

Harold and Maude (1971):  A morbidly depressed young man falls in love with a REALLY older woman.  A wonderful treatise on life, love and living in the moment with a great soundtrack by Cat Stevens.  This film has been a cult classic for decades.

What About Bob? (1991):  An uptight psychiatrist is driven crazy, then healed by an intrusive, needy patient.  With Richard Dreyfuss and Bill Murray.

Bennie and Joon (1993):  Johnny Depp plays a man with social limitations who falls in love with a young woman with a schizoaffective (mood/psychotic) illness.

Amelie'  (French, subtitled; 2001):  Audrey Tautou is luminous as a creative oddball full of innocence; she takes joy in the smallest of life's wonders.

Lars and The Real Girl (2007): Touching Canadian film about a very socially awkward man who falls in love with a life-size rubber doll.  Sounds lurid, but in fact is a tender tale about acceptance and the power of community.

The Fisher King (1991):  An angry, suicidal man (Jeff Bridges) meets a joyful transient with a psychotic disorder (Robin Williams, who later falls in love with a very socially awkward woman played brilliantly by Amanda Plummer).

It's Kind of a Funny Story (2010):  Various mental health issues are illustrated, including bipolar disorder, depression, and cutting.  A teen checks himself into a mental hospital for treatment of his depression.  Tiny revelations ensue.


A handful of others:
As Good as it Gets (1997):  OCD, extreme crankiness (Jack Nicholson).
Little Miss Sunshine (2006):  Depression, suicide attempt, color blindness, family-as-bowling-ally-in-your-head, general eccentricity
Forest Gump (1994):  (Tom Hanks) mental retardation/developmental disability.
Garden State (2004):  Depression, family and  identity issues.  Great soundtrack!
Rain Man (1988): A young man cares for his autistic brother (Tom Cruise, Dustin Hoffman).
Transamerica (2005):  Transsexualism, depression, teen with major family issues (abuse/neglect).
Matilda (1996):  A gifted "genetic sport doesn't fit in with her couch potato parents.

OK, there's the tip of that iceberg.  Feel free to send me your favorites.
Jana

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Standing Alone in a Crowd: More on Different

(Headnote:  Watch the video at the end.  Trust me.)

As much as we are connected and similar, there are a million ways to be different.  In fact, no two humans are genetically the same.  Even "identical" twins will show subtle variations in their genes due to minor spontaneous mutations occurring during gestation.  That's in our specie's overall interest -- some of those variations will work better in a particular current environment.  Authors Barbara  Kingsolver (Animal, Vegetable, Miracle) and Michael Pollen ("The Botany of Desire") illustrate how well this works in the plant kingdom.  Corn and apples produce enough seeds within one generation that some will make their way regardless if the upcoming growing season is colder, warmer, wetter, drier, shorter or longer.

With weirdness (*I use this term very affectionately), the different may be genetic sports, a nicer word for "mutants".  They are the quiet one in a family of extroverts, the athlete in a family of couch potatoes, the artist in the family of engineers.  Or the weirdness may be contained in a gene that is passed in degrees of strength throughout some members of the family, as case of red hair.  Don't think that's weird?  It's the rarest hair color-- found in only 1-2% of the world's population.   And much of what we use to think of as personality variations are actually pretty well cemented in genetics, including tendencies toward depression, anxiety and resiliency.

Knowing and understanding that most people don't exactly freely choose to be/think/behave as they do can go a long way toward relaxing our attitudes towards them.  You can stretch this one as far as you like, depending on your belief system.  We don't get a choice about being tall or short, born here or in a third world country, to rich or poor or a single or unhappy parent.  The most useful advice might be to remember you don't get to choose the hand you're dealt, but you can choose how to play it.

Or like the guy in this video-- maybe someday you'll meet someone who not only gets you, but helps you figure out how to turn that difference into a strength.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Hey, weirdo. Yeah, you.

weirdo photo of weirdo
 statue  from weirdo
friend's weirdo home
Don't feel like you exactly fit in?
 Join the club.
      For a country that celebrates individuality and independence, Americans sure have trouble dealing with differences.  This culture is market-driven. There's money to be had convincing you that you aren't quite right, but hey, we can fix that if you buy this car, wear this brand, live in this zip code.
      Marketing works by preying on common insecurities and the biological need to identify with a group (read: safety in numbers).  Even outliers look for their herd. Witness the popularity of "alternative" fashion chains in American malls.
      Still, people who are on the edges of bell curves of ability, appearance, gender, creativity and cognitive styles-- to name just a few of our lovely genetic variabilities-- find self-acceptance difficult.  The internet helps.  Never had an interest in sex, be it bi, straight, gay or otherwise?  Googling "asexuality support" brings up over a million resources. Wondering what to serve at your Chinese-Italian wedding in a French speaking province?  There's a link for that.
   Despite this glut of information, I meet dozens of people a year who feel like no one will understand their crazy intrusive thoughts,  the depths of their sadness, why it is so hard for them to organize their day or how it is they feel like a phony after 10 successful years in their field.  They feel weird, ashamed and alone.  Even if they have heard about other people with the same problem, they are sure theirs is somehow more shameful, more repulsive and that they are more personally responsible for it.
   Visible differences present other challenges.  While people in the previous examples may worry that everyone knows their difference, if you are biracial, albino, missing a limb, scarred you don't have a choice but to have that difference reflected back to you on a regular basis.  Biracial clients tell me that "What ARE you?" is the most tiresome question they hear. " Human," is the response many wind up giving in exasperation.
     Persons with physical challenges such as cerebral palsy tell me they get tired of being addressed as if they are retarded, and persons with cognitive challenges such as retardation tell me they get tired of being treated as if they are children.  Children tell me they get tired of being treated as if their thoughts and feelings aren't valid.  And on and on.
   Here's the deal.  We ALL have our stuff.  Some of it is private, some public.  Some of it, like learning differences, depression and OCD is usually invisible to others.  Other variables, including physical challenges such as vision impairment and paralysis, are all too obvious and can block out the individuality of their bearers.
     And yet under all the labels-- crippled, crazy, queer, whatever-- is a person.  A person who reflects, cries, dreams, fears, longs, creates and loves.  And if you can't relate to that, well...
    You're really different.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Follow Up: "My Therapist Doesn't Understand Me"

A few weeks ago a reader wrote about providers who "don't really get it."

In response to that post, he sent the following:

I think the reason it's a big deal for some of us is that we are so bombarded with "why can't you just..." "All you have to do is..." and other statements that suggest we should just "be normal," that it is a never-ending reminder that we aren't like "normal" people. And that is a big part of where the depression comes from. We can't "just..." get over it or let it go or whatever "normal" people are able to do. When someone understands that, and accepts us as is, that is the best form of therapy there is. It lets us feel like, even though we may not be "normal," we are legitimate and real and worthy.

Great comment.  Especially this line, which bears repeating: 
When someone understands (us) and accepts us as is, that is the best form of therapy there is.


Normal.  Now there's a concept that has caused more than its share of troubles.  Let's remember that any distribution of traits will spread, averages-wise, across a bell-shaped curve.  Even on the dropping off sides of that curve you are still talking within the range of "normal". And even on those edges, differences may not be significant in the long run.   The baby that walks at 9 months (my girls) and those who walk at 16 months (me and my son) are both on the outside of that "normal" middle lump of the curve (10-15 months).  Guess what?  We were all running at age 2.

We cause so much grief with our desire to categorize.  Judgment (as differed from discernment, which is more about wisdom than measurement) makes us feel better or worse than others.  Neither of these positions is good for us, decreasing either our compassion or our self-esteem. 

I am so glad to live in a generation where we have at least a few positive and culturally visually role models for gay and lesbian youth, persons with physical differences, stay-at-home dads and executive moms, and so on.  That wasn't true when I was growing up.   The information age can connect persons with the rarests of differences.

But we haven't come far enough.  Many of our culture's worst slurs and curses reflect our negativity towards differences in gender, mental and emotional functioning, and sexual orientation.  Although we are quick to display pink ribbons in support of sufferers of breast cancer, we remain in enormous denial to the choice aspects of mental dis-ease.  We blame the victims.  We stigmatize anxiety and depression as personal weaknesses, increasing isolation and shame for those suffering.

It's impossible to truly know another's experience.  I remember not getting why an obviously bright student of mine was such a crappy speller and made so many mistakes in his grammar.   I didn't get that dyslexia had little to do with other areas of intelligence and thought he was just being stubborn or lazy.  I was a great speller back then (don't call me out-- spell checker and years out of school have had their way with me) and figured everyone else could be the same.  We often think the world works the same for others as it does for us.  Think about color-blindness.  No matter how sure you are that there are clear differences in blue and green, someone else's eyes may see no difference there at all.  Which of you is "right"?  Whose experience is not reality?

In a previous post I talked about an author who described our experiences thus:  "It's as if we are all looking at the world through long, thin aluminum tubes, and thinking everyone else, with their own tubes, is seeing the same view".  We are born into these tubes.  If the only language we've heard is English, of course Chinese is going to sound strange and harsh to our ears the first time we hear it.  What we need to figure out is that our language sounds just as foreign to those not speaking it.  


We need to expand our vision.  The next few posts will talk more about being different in a culture that loves the norm. 

Here's a song to set the mood:

Thursday, March 10, 2011

From the Advice Column: My Therapist Doesn't Understand

I received a note from a reader this week:
"As someone who suffers from anxiety/panic and the resultant depression that goes along with those, I find it very frustrating that therapists, and even psychiatrists, really don't understand what this is like. I mean, yeah, they understand it academically, but not from having the actual experience. What do you think about this?"

What I think is that it can be very frustrating to feel your experience of reality is being questioned by someone else who doesn't get it.  But I'd add that if I had been through everything all my clients have been through-- cancer, horrific abuse, war trauma, loss of a limb or ability to walk or everything I owned in a house fire for just a few-- I don't know that I would be able to practice.  On the other hand, I've been through some things.  And I think most people with some compassion and insight know what it feels like to be scared, hopeless, furious, or any of those other intense emotions.  They might not know exactly what it feels like to have a panic attack, just like your physician may not know what it feels like to have a heart attack.  But they've seen plenty.  They should still be able to treat you effectively.  I don't mean that to sound snarky.  I think it helps a lot to talk to someone who has been through your particular experience, just to know more certainly that you're not alone in what you are experiencing.  That's why I often refer clients to peer support groups or give them articles from people who've been there.

The best practitioners I know fall somewhere in the range of "the wounded healer", as Jung calls it.  They've been through enough hardship to understand that life isn't all roses.  They've seen and felt suffering on a level to take it seriously. They can relate, if not to your specific dilemma, to the suffering it causes. Suffering is inevitable if you live long enough. I don't think they need to have directly experienced a particular symptom to understand the effects it can have on you or how to help you address it.

That aside, I remember with big chagrin being a young, childless family therapist and telling people with authority how to handle their kids or marriages.  I remember at 25 becoming frustrated with a patient addicted to anxiolytics (medication for relief of anxiety) and telling him he really didn't have a thing to be anxious about, beings as he was not doing diddly squat with his life.  For me, getting some more life experience was humbling and helpful.  The older I get, the less black and white my thinking becomes-- and thank goodness.  I still think I was helpful, most of the time.  I also think at times I was a more than a little clueless.   I appreciate the clients who called me out, saying, "I don't think you are really getting this."  I appreciate the varieties of human experience, and the gift my practice gives me of having more of them vicariously than any one life could hold.  Each year I feel my heart expanding in compassion, and "that little aluminum tube through which we all look at the world, thinking all others are seeing the same scene through their tube", enlarging.

Bottom line:  if you don't think your therapist gets you, tell them.  Be ready to own your own shist, so to speak.  We are, in other wise words of Jung, "dirty little projectors", often unconsciously foisting our own shame and defensiveness onto the other.  Look clearly at that first.  Be curious and open to information as well as clear as you can be of your experience and your interpretations of it.  Be willing to let go of your assumptions if they really aren't in line with your caregiver's intention.  Give it a little time to see if maybe you are just dealing with vestiges of resistance.  Even bad habits are afraid of dying. 

If after honest conversation, reflection, deep listening for understanding and curious compassion you feel unheard, disrespected or just plain mis-matched, remember this is your nickel.  You can vote with your feet.  You can and should discuss your reasoning and even ask for a referral to someone that could be a better fit.

Nobody can be everybody's everything (and if say they are, run).  I don't make it with all my clients.  Earlier in my career I saw this as a big failure.  But then I read a passage in a book on the Zen of Falling in Love that shifted things for me.  It was something along the line of, "you may have chosen a perfectly outstanding apple, with stellar apple qualities.  But if you want a pear, you're not going get what you what."  Now you have to choose-- learn to deal with pear-ness, or go out and find an apple.  There are deficits, benefits and chances for growth both ways.

But if you feel humiliated, harassed, dismissed-- and you've discussed this to no positive outcome-- ask for a referral or ask others you trust.  Finding a good therapist isn't much different from finding a perfect pair of jeans or shoes. You might have to shop around and try a few before you find what really works for you.

Like most therapists, I have been in therapy.  Sometimes for a few short sessions for a tune-up or problem solving, and sometimes for longer when I needed to dig to get at some perspective or to process something heavy.  I have met with perfectly delightful clinicians who frankly were not what I needed at the time.  Sometimes I needed a handholder and got an asskicker; sometimes the opposite.  I like very active therapy, and the smile-nod-how-does-that-make-you-feel sessions make me feel crazy.  Maybe that would have been a good thing if I'd stuck around longer to find out, but at my age I have some clear ideas of what helps and what doesn't, and I can get close to that level of feedback from my cat.  We all have our preferences.

On the other side of the couch, I may move way too fast and feel aggressive to a client who wants much slower, gentler and contemplative experience.  It's not a bad way to work; but it isn't the way I work.  In such circumstance, I may suggest they'd  find the therapy experience more comfortable and valuable with someone who practices in a different way.  When I refer out like that, it isn't a rejection of the client.  I am truly hoping to find a better match so progress can be made.  I have to get my ego out the door and do what's best for a unique individual.

The take home, as they say, is "know thyself."  This includes knowing your strengths and preferences and warts and defensiveness.  Bring your whole self into the office.  Ask for what you need .  You still may not get it, but it sure as heck improves the chances.  And speaking only for myself, I love it when clients throw me a little education about their diagnosis, recent research on it, and area resources.  I do my best to keep up, but as a generalist, there's no way I'm going to know everything.

Thanks for the thought-provoking comment.  Hope to see more of these inquires as we continue muddling through the middle path. 

Related readings:
How to Do Therapy Part One:  Finding a Therapist
How to Do Therapy Part Two: Bang for the Buck

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Fading the Blue Gene: Cognitive Behavioral Approaches to Treating Depression


PART ONE:  CHANGING YOUR FOCUS
Remember losing a tooth when you were a kid?  How you could hardly leave that hole it left alone?  How big it felt, how you couldn't stop fiddling with it and poking the space where the tooth used to be with your tongue or finger?  Maybe for a while it drove you crazy.  Maybe for a while it was all you could think about. 

And then after a while, you forgot about it.

OK, depression is not much like losing a tooth.  The link here is the idea that when you pay a lot of attention to something, it occupies a lot of space in your mind.  

You know those cartoons where someone stubs his toe so he bites his thumb?  It doesn't make much sense that adding pain could subtract from it.  But what's effective isn't the addition of a new pain, it's the distraction from the original one.  When we use a focused distraction, it's not that the pain isn't real.  It's that we are choosing to focus our minds and energies elsewhere.  This is part of the thinking behind all that complicated breathing they teach in Lamaze to control pain during childbirth.  There's some neuroscience and other physiology there too, but the simple part is:  it's hard to pay as much attention to pain when you are trying to remember all those patterns to the choo-choo breathes.

In the quirky and beautiful French film MicMacs, protagonist Bazil deals with his depression and PTSD by reciting obscure history facts to himself when triggered.  He's practicing a form of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy.  As the name implies, CBT aims to change thinking and actions from nonproductive or destructive patterns to those that support health.

When we are depressed, we ruminate-- obsessively mull over negative thoughts.  The original thoughts are spontaneous; we can't control them.  But by repeating them over and over in our mind we create neural bridges that strengthen them.  What we hear over and over (even from our own in-the-moment-distorted minds) seems believable.  At minimum, we wear a groove that we can now slide more easily down.  If you've ever studied music, think of it like chords or scales.  No one is born knowing how to play a C chord.   You learn it, and at first you have to think about it.  On the piano, C E G: white keys, each with a black between them.  If you've practiced them often enough, you can form the chord with your fingers even if the instrument is nowhere in sight.  If you now pretend to play a D chord, you know that middle finger moves up, to hit the black note in the middle of the chord.  You don't really even have to think about it.  After a while it becomes automatic.

Thoughts can be like this too.  We have a spontaneous thought, such as "Life sucks."  Let's say we don't know exactly why we are thinking it.  If we start ruminating about it, being the problem-solving and pattern seeking people we are, we can probably come up with some evidence to support the thought.  Because we are sorting for supportive evidence, we disregard or fail to look for exceptions to the thought.  After a while, the evidence we've selected comes easier to the fore.  After a longer while, it comes automatically.  And because it is so present, so pervasive...

We believe it.

One way to deal with depression is to question the thoughts and the narrative we use to support them.  As mentioned in a previous blog on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, everyone has crazy thoughts.  The difference in folks with OCD is they pay attention to them.  Say you are driving down the street and you think, out of nowhere, "I could serve my car into that oncoming semi."  Who knows where that thought came from?  Maybe you saw a movie where it happened, or heard a news story, or maybe you just had a random "brain fart."  Most people who have that thought might be momentarily disturbed.  They think, "Where did that come from?"  But the next minute they resume thinking about the burrito they are off to get, or singing along to the radio.  People with OCD have a different reaction.  They think, "How could I think that?  What sort of monster am I?  Does that mean I want to do that?  What if I DID do that?  What if I can't control wanting to do that?"  They go over and over the scenario.  Maybe eventually they can't even drive, because they are afraid of having the thoughts or of acting on them.

In depression, minds can get sticky in a similar way.  Our task is not to control the original thought, but our responses to them.  We can do this in many ways.  Focused distraction--  intentionally turning the mind to something else-- is one.  Singing, paying attention to sensory detail, doing math-- it hardly matters what it is as long as it's a less harming thought.  See Managing the Monkey Mind for more on this. 

As AA says, it's simple, but not easy.  Just like scales, learning a new skill takes time and lots and lots of practice.  If you have depression, you've had lots of practice in negative thinking and narratives that support why you feel so crappy.  And as noted in the last post, it's not that you aren't really feeling that crappy.  The point is the way you are addressing it can change, and that change can do you good.


CBT has been found to be as effective as antidepressants in alleviating depression.  Other CBT interventions and more on how it works coming up-- stay tuned!
 Meanwhile, here's a positive thinking song from Gloria Gaynor:  dance it out.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

A Troublesome Trifecta


Being an oldtimer in the field, I've picked up patterns in clients over the years that are interesting and often predictive.  I noticed the kids I saw that struggled in English and more theoretical classes but were good at kinesthetic learning tended to have cross-dominance handedness as well as temper or opposition issues.  Anecdotal, but interesting, and there's probably a good neurological basis.

A very common feature I see in clients with anxiety and depression issues is what I call the troublesome trifecta.  These folks have a combination of traits:  Big Radar (they take in everything), Big Sensitivity (they feel it bigger) and Big Brains (they want to analyze everything).   As a result they have a high signal to noise ratio and spend lots of energy trying to figure out the data they are receiving.   Since much of it is noise, life can be pretty exhausting.

As stated in a recent blog, I'm a firm believer in the great benefits of the natural variation of human experience.  In other words, let's not pathologize everything.  But I can tell you, folks with the troublesome trifecta are both burdened and blessed.  Maybe they were bathed too long in the Oxytocin waters, and now that's what runs through their veins.  They see everything through the excruciating lens of Love's Potential.  They tend towards the ruminating spirit, as actor/director Jodie Foster called it in a recent interview with the National Alliance on Mental Illness.  The blessings come in the form of increased empathy and higher highs, creativity and a deep curiosity.  The burdens, unfortunately, come from the same place: the capacity for deep wounding, heaviness, and feelings of not being up for the Call.


Some people intentionally choose not to love and feel deeply.  Deep connection can result in deep loss when the connection closes, through choice or circumstance.  Highly empathic folk don't have a real choice about their capacity to experience life deeply.  But they may try to to run interference with the effects by dimming input with  drugs and other distractions. 


Half the battle is learning to know and love ourselves for who we are.  The other half is taking responsibility, even if we don't have the choice, for our limitations/strengths.  We can find ways to tone down the noise, to sort out the signal.  It requires attention and intention.  It is easier in the short run to be self-aversive or try and become comfortably numb.  That's back to losing the baby when we throw out the bathwater.  As Tom Waits sings, "If I exorcise my devils, my angels may flee too" (and he stole that line from Oscar Wilde, I think, though I can't find it now).  But it is our job--our calling-- to be aware of our impact with its gifts and limitations and take responsibility that it doesn't harm others.

Yes, I wrangle with the troublesome three-- well, at least the big radar/big sensitivity part.  I notice a lot and I don't naturally have a big filter.  This works well in my profession, especially if I apply the analysis to the data.   As always, I'm going for door number two in addressing the effects of this predisposition.  I want to wrestle with my demons and see what they have to teach, and trust my angels to keep me in line.  I want to keep enough shadow to know both light and dark when I see it and to pay attention to what I can learn there.  I don't want to trade knowledge with its discomfort and connection and wind up with blissful ignorance, at least over the long haul.

But I know there are tasks for me if I chose the less traveled road.  I need to practice mindfulness, gentle curiosity, and deep compassion as emotions and thoughts spontaneously arrive, sometimes unwelcome.  I can stay in wise mind of not-knowing the outcome.  I can decide when I've worried enough about some difficult matter and see that indulgence is of benefit to no one.  I can engage in acts of kindness and bravery despite lack of motivation or surpluses of fear.   I can practice self-soothing, not relying on others to have been hit in the same way I might be by a recent experience,  I know there is enough suffering in the daily that I won't look for entertainment in the nightly news or latest tearjearking Oscar winner.  I can sing not in spite of suffering but because there is suffering, and hope that like me, others may need my song more than my tears.  I can cry, too, when I need to, but not take residence in my tears.  I want to be available, and that means respecting my ability to deeply feel and connect, and knowing when to go quiet and replenish.

It may be that my childhood led to my family role as a caretaker.  It may be that some sensory integration deficits led to my enormous sponge for interloping sensory information,  It could be I became awash in excess oxtocyin in the womb and am forever reacting to its urgings or chasing its replacements.  For me , I am less interested in the why of how we end up who we are.  I want to learn how to best swim this ocean I am in, with respect for myself and the paths and people I cross and impact.

It ain't easy.  And it's important, beautiful, essential we don't give it up learning how to navigate these beautiful, dangerous waters.

How so?  Come back soon for tools I have gathered on the way.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Resolution #15: Get to know an "Other"

It's Martin Luther King's birthday.  The real one, not that day some of you get off work.  In honor of his beautiful and powerful life work and inspired by Elizabeth Lesser's wonderful TED talk, which ends this post, today's resolution is to open our hearts to someone who is very different from us.  Someone who scares us, pisses us off or just challenges our comfort level.

I may have mentioned in a post here some time ago that a local retired physics teacher, Pat Canon, started a group to do just this during the period of the contentious Bush/Gore elections.  Concerned about the black and white, middle-school bullying nature of what should have been civic dialogue, he asked devoted members of both ends of the political spectrum to come together in dialogue.  Their goal: not to persuade, but to understand the view of the other.

In my work I come into intimate conversation with people of all sorts of beliefs.  I listen with as open a heart as I can muster to grasp how they have come to their views, so that even if I disagree with those views, their actions in light of them make sense to me.  For example, a gay son feels rejected by his evangelical parents.  But in their perspective, his orientation may forever separate them in the afterlife-- and their condemnation of him comes, believe it or not, out of love and fear, not hatred.

Most of the time, the more we understand about each other, the less fearful and reactive we will be.  In light of the recent events in Tuscon and their alleged motivation (here I am talking about political views, not mental illness), it is more important than ever to remember our common humanity instead of our separateness. It is time to get way past tolerance, and to understanding.

This video will give you some guidance on making it happen.

Related posts:
Resolution #12:  Accept Others
Xenophobia