Monday, July 20, 2015

Expecting the Best


A healer and energy therapist, Carol Tuttle challenges us to assume the BEST. Of ourselves, our circumstances, the motivations of others. That simple shift opens us to possibilities that anxiety, fear and negativity can never provide. When I invite a calm, productive day to unfold before me, I am much more likely to notice glimmers of grace: an effortless drive into the office, a blue jay perched in a tree above me on my morning walk, a Facebook shout-out from an old friend. Even when obstacles creep into my awareness, my expectation for positive happenings somehow cushion me from their sharp corners. I used to consider "looking on the bright side" to be naive, a Pollyanna-ish approach to a complex, sometimes scary world. But, as Tuttle suggests, if we assume the Universe is moving more and more towards operating on a higher energy level than ever before (I.e., more rapid medical and technological advances than in past centuries combined, longer human life spans, more people adopting lifestyles conducive to spiritual wellness), we can more genuinely embrace the belief that goodness and plenty ARE boundless. My capacity to love, to invest more deeply in my work and my relationships, even my physical activity levels are expanded when I turn my focus from what is broken, scary, and stuck to an expectant invitation to all that is lovely and nourishing and forward-moving to enter my awareness. No, I haven't forgotten that pain and trauma and loss and injustice exist around the globe, even around the corner. (I AM a social worker, after all!). But, time after time, I find that looking for the good, even inviting and EXPECTING its arrival, is a practice with no negative cost. Why wouldn't I choose to delight in my dogs' cute wiggling behinds as they chase each other in the yard, or flood my senses with the comforting smell and feel of my son's hair fresh from the shower? A driving teacher in high school, of all people, was a wise philosopher of sorts when he warned me, "You'll STEER at whatever you STARE at." In the past, I could easily drive myself into the chaos of depression, hopelessness and fear. But today, I'm choosing to steer toward joy.

Monday, July 6, 2015

"For Life and Death Are One" -- Khalil Gibran


I attended two memorial services over the weekend. Jim, a friend from church, died after a long illness, and my high school friend's mother, Marilyn, passed unexpectedly. Both of these beloved people were past 80, although their lengthy lives don't alter the grief of their family and friends. As I connected with old friends, church members, and family members of those who had passed, we shared stories about our loved ones. We laughed at old tales from our childhood, joked about church politics, teased one another about graying hair or faulty knee joints.

LETTING GO, MOVING ON 
As the sharing went on, our memories of Julie's mom, of Jim's decades-long commitment to the church, gave way to queries about each others' kids: had they started college visits? who was anxious about the ACT? which parents would be delighting in their empty nest, and which would be caught off guard by sorrow? We provided updates about our own aging parents, fussed over Jim's widow and children. We pencilled in coffee dates that were long overdue. We updated cell numbers and email addresses, traded names of tutors for reliable referrals to orthodontists. Even in the midst of our breaking hearts, we couldn't resist attending to the daily tasks of living. As we wept, we were aware of the breath catching in the person beside us, could hear the signs of the mourner behind us. I realized that, as much as I tried to wrap my mind around the reality that I would not share space again with Jim or Marilyn in this incarnation, my heart was filled with love for the people around me, my mind with plans for the future. I was aware of a knee-jerk guilt for not mourning "more" for the souls who wouldn't be here for the next holiday, the missed hugs and family portraits. But equally present was the sense that, even in grief, our instinct needn't be to STOP living, but to look FORWARD. Despite the holes in our hearts, the space our loved one's one leave that will be forever gaping in our lives, we can choose to move ahead, to embrace one another, to honor those who are gone by loving and living with all that we have. Perhaps that's the truest, most honest memorial of them all. 

Friday, June 12, 2015

The Many Faces of PTSD -- Part III

SEEKING HELP FOR PTSD 

Treatment for PTSD can help symptoms from getting worse, especially if help is sought soon after the event. But regardless of how long ago the traumatic event occurred, the following therapy options can help sufferers move forward, away from the feeling of being "trapped" in the trauma, to a future of calm, strength and hopefulness:

1. Family therapy
2. Trauma-focused cognitive behavioral therapy
3. Medication to alleviate secondary symptoms like depression, difficulty sleeping, panic or agitation
4. Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing (EMDR) therapy

Like a home that needs to be rebuilt after a devastating tornado, the life of a survivor with PTSD can as surely be refashioned to allow the survivor to reclaim her power and step confidently into a resilient future.

If you or someone you know has been diagnosed with PTSD, reach out to your physician or contact a mental health professional in your area for help, The suffering of PTSD doesn't have to last--you have the right to take back your life and to move forward with health and happiness.

The Many Faces of PTSD - Part II

Clients with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) experience symptoms in a myriad of individualized ways. But some  similarities in their symptoms are shared by all survivors.

SYMPTOMS OF PTSD

After the traumatic event, survivors report the following characteristics:

1. Distressing memories of the trauma
2. Dreams related to the event
3. Flashbacks of the experience
4. Avoidance of stimuli associated with the event (I.e., a survivor of a catastrophic car accident may choose not to drive or even to travel in a car; a sexual assault survivor may avoid approaching the neighborhood in which she was attacked.)

Other symptoms include a negative alteration in cognition and mood, People who may have been high functioning and coping well with typical life struggles may find it difficult to combat depressive moods, panic or anxiety, and may experience difficulties in concentration and memory. It's not uncommon for survivors to report being unable to remember important aspects of the traumatic event. Calm, passive imdividuals can become quick-tempered or even exhibit verbal or physical aggression. Difficulties with sleep, emotional regulation, fatigue and somatic complaints often plague survirors.

Next week: Treatment and recovery from PTSD. 

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

The Many Faces of PTSD - Part I


"PTSD is a whole body tragedy, an integral human event of enormous proportions with massive repercussions." Susan Pease Banitt 

June is National Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Awareness Month. Most people are familiar with PTSD as a syndrome often experienced by combat soldiers. In reality, PTSD is a challenge for people of all ages, from all walks of life. 

Defining PTSD

PTSD can result from experiences of actual or THREATENED death, injury or sexual violence. Sufferers may be diagnosed with PTSD even if those experiences occurred to a family member or close friend. In addition to war veterans, survivors of abuse, physical assault, violent crime, natural disasters, severe automotive accidents and witnessing domestic violence are also at much higher risk of developing PTSD. Children, who may have less resilience and underdeveloped coping skills due to their limited life experience, are especially vulnerable to being diagnosed with PTSD as a result of trauma exposure. 

Next week's blog will detail symptoms of PTSD. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

The Four Pillars of Emotional Fitness


Movement is essential to keep our bodies in good working order. We walk on the treadmill, lift weights or practice yoga to improve our physical health and increase our lifespan. The characteristics that determine peak physical health can also be applied to our emotional health.

1. FLEXIBILTY.  Emotionally healthy people are able to adapt to various situations and responses. They can bend to accommodate different life realities, and are able to embrace the "gray" in life, rather than seeing the world as "black or white."
2. RESILIENCE. Resilience can be defined as the ability to bounce back quickly from injury or setback. Resilient people see failure as part of the path to success; they don't allow obstacles to keep them from their goals, and they can pick themselves up when life knocks them over with unexpected circumstances.
3. ENDURANCE. Emotionally healthy people can withstand the pressures of life without breaking. They have developed the emotional "muscles" to delay instant gratification and stick with a task or relationship fraught with challenges without giving in to the impulse to bail out or seek out the easy fix.
4. STRENGTH. Just as physically healthy people have bodies that can life heavy weights or hold challenging yoga poses, emotional healthy people have the fortitude to weather difficult emotions, longstanding pressures and psychological stressors without losing confidence in their abilities and self-worth.

A gym or yoga studio membership can provide us with a venue to work out our physical selves. Consider investing in your emotional health by engaging in therapy, reading self-help books, developing a meditation practice and surrounding yourself with positive, supportive people. Whether or not you can finish a marathon, enhancing your emotional fitness is a a finish line everyone can cross. 

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

The Stories of Our Lives


"Despite the habitual turning away, the 'now' is always better than the story about it...Because there is no way to engage with, move on from or handle the to-ing and fro-ing of a story."  -- Geneen Roth 

I got stuck on this passage in Roth's Women, Food and God. So stuck, in fact, that I misstepped on the treadmill and nearly catapulted off the back. I read and re-read it, feeling like the words were identifiable, but the meaning was beyond my grasp. Then it sunk in. There is NOW. And then there is our STORY about NOW. 


TELL ME A STORY? 
Anxiety is a sign that we are either revisiting the past ("why did I have to say that to my boss?") or projecting into the future ("have I ruined my career? How will I ever find another job? What if I end up destitute and homeless?") We spend untold hours ruminating on our mistakes, and negatively predicting future outcomes. All of this cognitive energy prevents our presence in this moment. And in this moment, we are absolutely fine. We may be sitting on the couch, snuggled in comfy clothes, listening to soft, doggy-scented snores. We may be cutting an apple for our toddler's snack, or folding laundry or paying bills. Whatever we are doing in this moment, we can be present to it, or we can be creating a story about it. This moment is rich with sensation, emotion, thoughts and beliefs. We can feel this moment in our bodies, through our breathing. The story is unnecessary, and yet, when I reflect on troubling moments in my life, events that still squeeze my heart with regret or pierce my gut with fear, I realize my memory is less about how I truly experienced the event and more often about what I've told myself about it. My story distances me from my truth. It lays a gauzy film over what I felt and thought and did, making the essence of the experience more like a waking dream than a lived event. My stories can be exciting or frightening, morbid or hilarious. But whatever they are, they communicate only a version of the truth that is so much less than the actual realness of those moments. Inside the "now", I can feel and taste and smell and intuit the wisdom and grace that surrounds me. My story, no matter how fantastic, can never come close. My story can, and should, change over time, with insight and new life lessons that allow for new perspectives. But this moment, this now, is meant for me to live. I can leave the storytelling to someone else.