This time of year marks the Jewish New Year.  Unlike most cultures that eat great food and party all night, we Jews fast and feel guilty for everything we’ve done wrong the previous year.  But seriously, I do appreciate the idea of reflecting on the life we’re living and how we may have “missed the mark,” as it’s referred to.  New Year’s rituals provide an opportunity, in community, to own our mistakes, make amends, and commit to a better path.  To be honest, though, I sometimes get a little overwhelmed by negativity.  It’s painful and makes me feel helpless at how to move beyond actions I feel badly about but can’t undo  So when I came across Daniel Pink, author of The Power of Regret:  How Looking Backward Moves Us Forward, I found some helpful advice on how we might move out of painful guilt and into healthy change all year long.

Pink’s book is based on surveys of over 4,000 Americans about their relationship with the feeling of regret.  As we would imagine, most people experienced regret as painful, the intensity of which depended on the level of consequence of what is regretted.  For example, some regrets can be inconsequential overall, such as wishing we’d learned an instrument or not accepting an invitation that turned out to be a good experience for the people who did.  We may feel a sense of loss, but it’s relatively easy to move past.  The regrets that really hurt us are the ones when we wished we’d done something differently in circumstances that were morally or emotionally significant, like not making peace with someone before they died or saying hurtful things out of anger to someone we love.

The first tip offered by Pink is to view our pain as a source of growth and insight.  We can use our regret as information to learn from and it can clarify what is most important to us.  Regrets can serve as guides to future action if we can listen to what our feelings are telling us about our past action and the outcome of our choices.

But in doing so, Pink emphasizes we need to talk to ourselves with compassion and create understanding.  Speak to yourself as if you’re talking to a friend you love, offering support and guidance over judgment.  Sometimes sharing our regret with other people can help us gain perspective and decrease the isolation we have around our regret.  Once we share, we’re likely to hear that others have similar experiences.  Writing about them can also be a way to process our feelings and let them out, allowing ourselves to think it through and release it.  Writing to answer the questions “What did I learn from this situation,” or “How will I make a different choice in the future,” can solidify our growth mindset.

Another tip is to figure out if there’s still something you can do about it.  Often we’re so overwhelmed with guilt or negative feelings, we become paralyzed.  We avoid thinking about it and even avoid the people involved because of our shame.  It’s helpful to ask yourself if there’s a way to make amends or change your current course of action to be more in line with what you’ve identified as a mistake or error in living your values.  Taking action is a great tool in overcoming the helpless feelings that can accompany regret.

And finally, Pink offers the suggestion of using the term “at least” with your situation to reframe it and gain perspective about how it could’ve been worse.  By shifting from “if only I’d done more to help my brother with his illness,” we can reframe it to remind ourselves of the things we did do, such as “at least I called him regularly, even if I couldn’t visit him as often as I would’ve liked.”  When we’re pulled into regret, we often overlook balancing forces or intentions that we would readily recognize for others.  

Allowing ourselves to explore our regret is a way of coping with it and gaining insight.  The process is not about letting ourselves off the hook or making excuses, but to find a truthful understanding of what our feelings mean to us and how we can use them as a beacon rather than a weapon.  As I sit in the High Holy Days services, I do notice it’s nice to be among others who are also taking stock of their lives.  Somehow it reminds us that we’re all human and no one can live a life without errors or missteps.  And actually, the very nature of the holiday is the assumption of this common human frailty.  It’s nice to allow ourselves the opportunity to release these burdens and commit ourselves to a better path.  Otherwise, we’d regret it.

In my previous post I had a chance to honor the resilience of people to carry on through tough times.  Shortly after, I came across an article that got me thinking about the important role of other people in our lives who help us persist. The article described the role of Assistants who team up with Paralympic Competitors (The Quiet Collaboration Between Paralympic Athletes and Their Assistants, NY Times).  I was so touched by their joy in playing such a significant role in enabling someone else to compete and push themselves to their personal best.  It led me to think about our roles as friends, family members, and in community to be a guide or assistant to someone in a way that makes a difference both to them and just as much to us.

I had no idea, but in 22 Paralympic sports, athletes compete alongside a guide or assistant.  In some sports the role is very active such as riding in the front seat of a tandem bike or running alongside a blind person holding a tether (they are literally tied together). But in other sports, it can be as simple as tapping a swimmer on the shoulder in order to let them know they are at the pool wall. Long jumpers rely on a guide shouting or clapping when it’s time to jump and blind soccer players listen out for a sighted goalie to yell and give direction for what is going on in the field.  In triathlete, a disabled athlete will swim tethered to a guide that swims slightly ahead of them, then steers the tandem bike, and finishes once again, tethered during the run.  In all sports, there are strict rules about what and how the assistants may offer support and if violated, an athlete will be eliminated.

It struck me what a special person you need to be an athlete assistant.  Not only do you have to be a spectacular athlete yourself, you have to totally dedicate your performance to the competitor.  In reading about these athletes, I was so impressed by their goal of winning with their partner, enjoying the process of training and competing as a team rather than as an individual.  For example, Gabriel Garcia, an athlete who competed in the Olympics on the Brazilian men’s 4 X 100 relay team also competed as a guide for a sprinter Geber ds Santos in the Paralympics.  Of both experiences, he stated, “I actually prefer to be an athlete guide rather than an Olympic athlete,” stating he felt more pressure at the Paralympics.  “You have to give 200 percent of yourself not to cause any mistakes and to keep the other athlete at a high level.”

Skyler Espinoza was a cyclist in the U.S.A. Cycling Development program but missed the dynamics of being in a team sport.  She now pilots a tandem bike with a visually impaired athlete, Hannah Chadwick.  About the experience she states, “You don’t just train for yourself, but for the other person.”  Gregory Billington finished 27th at the Rio Olympic Games in triathlon.  He partnered with athlete Brad Snyder and has found great success.  Brad describes the intensity of their relationship, “We’ve been able to train together stride for stride, stroke for stroke.  We’ve really bonded as friends, teammates, and as competitors.”

It was only in 2012 at the London Olympics that assistants were also given medals when the team made the podium, which they now also share.  It recognizes the challenge of working as a duo in order to be successful.  The choice of guide involves not only finding a talented competitor, but one who can form a compatible working relationship with the athlete.  One sprinter, David Brown, described running with a guide as “like running a three legged race.”  As I guessed would be true, the word “trust” came up in many of the descriptions of the most important factor in a successful pair.   Visually impaired skier Menna Fitzpatrick pointed out that “if you don’t have trust in the guide then you won’t have the skill and speed.  They also have to trust that I’ll follow their instructions.”  Also consistent in the article was how these guide athletes disputed the notion that they were “sacrificing” on behalf of the disabled athlete.  The relationship between athlete and assistant extended far beyond a technical connection into something more personal and deeply reciprocal.

Which brings me back to what struck me about this article in the first place and how it connected to my thinking about getting through hard times.  I think of the athlete’s tether or the clap as a great metaphor for how someone else can help us through the darkness of grief or depression.  Our connection to others gives us a reason and a drive to move forward and live beyond what we think we are capable of.  Life’s many challenges are also opportunities for us to be a support to someone else and in return reap the reward of meaning and purpose.  Building and maintaining the trust of people who need us is a great honor.  There may not be a medal to wear around our necks or a podium to proudly stand on, but we certainly become winners nonetheless.

Last Monday, being Labor Day, is celebrated to honor American workers’ social and economic achievements.  But as anyone who has ever had a job knows, some days are better than others.  Some days we go to work full of enthusiasm and a determination to do our best.  But sometimes, when our dog just died, or after a rough custody hand-off, or when we’re filled with the fear of being laid off, just showing up is hard enough.  We still have to serve the customer, stock the shelf, or teach the class.  Everyday, whether we realize it or not, people around us are making heroic efforts to put aside their pain and do what they need to do, anyhow.  Through some periods of our life we need to be celebrated for our resilient capacity to put aside what is burdening us to get our job done.

My older daughter wisely says, “You just don’t know about people’s stories.”  She does a good job of giving people the benefit of the doubt when they might have been rude or unattentive.  This makes me think about my many clients who come to get support for their grief, their trauma, or their mental or physical illnesses.  They are so filled with emotion and pain and I get to provide them with a space and a time they can fall apart.  But I also know they have to put themselves back together to feed the kids, make the sale, and check on their mother.  I think about the energy it takes to stuff all of this mess back inside to show up for their jobs.  I am sure some of them are underperforming in regard to what is required or may be snapping at customers they find irritating.  But they are doing their best to perform.

One person eloquently told me, “Life doesn’t care if you have a broken heart.”  She held back her tears throughout her work day and then cried on her entire car ride home.  It takes a lot of energy to balance the processing of difficult emotions with taking care of our responsibilities and duties, especially when people count on us.  Perhaps these are the true Labor Days, when we need to give ourselves nurturing and compassion in order to keep on going.  We may need to take breaks frequently throughout our day, sometimes needing to get away from people and sometimes to connect.  We have to pace ourselves to keep up our momentum, balancing out our week ahead.  We have to identify when we have the most capacity, and let go a bit when we dip into our lows. And highly important, we need to schedule ourselves a big ‘ol reward for just making it through a day, a week, a meeting, or a meal.

“Lights, camera, bitch, smile / Even when you wanna die,” is a line from Taylor Swift’s song, “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart.”  Now there’s a woman who knows how to turn pain into power!  It’s not healthy or helpful to pretend your pain doesn’t exist. Our biggest challenge in order to move through our bad times is to open ourselves up to acceptance, love, and compassion. And we need to not only show this grace for ourselves, but remember to offer it to others.

I will never forget my Grandmother Rose sitting with my family as we watched a football game.  My brother was especially angry at how his team was performing (you guessed it, the NY Giants) and was exuding frustration and negativity.  With her sweet voice and heavy New York accent, she leaned over to him and said, “Dahling…don’t be so upset.  They’re doing the best they can.”

There are so  many different kinds of change.  There are the changes we want to happen and the changes we don’t.  There are the changes we predict and plan for, and the changes we don’t see coming.  There are the changes that seem to happen so slowly we can’t stand waiting for and the changes that hit us so suddenly like running into a wall.  But what I’ve been thinking about lately is not just the change, but the ripple effects of change.  They can often be more unpredictable and impactful than the change event itself.

According to the great and wise Wikipedia, a ripple effect happens when “an initial disturbance to a system propagates outward to disturb an increasingly larger portion of the system, like ripples expanding across the water when an object is dropped into it.”  In other words, a ripple effect is when one small change kicks off a chain reaction of events that you may not be able to foresee.  (A random example might be someone who adopts two adorable mini donkeys…then  needs a trailer to transport or evacuate them…and then a truck to pull the trailer…just for example.)

Ripple effects can be force multipliers. If I make a change in one area of my life, it will impact another area and can be additive.  I can step by step build up my confidence or my discipline, etc.  For example, if I take a class and learn a new skill, I can feel more confident and get a new job, then earn more money and improve my family’s well being.  Or, if I, as a member of a community, make a change, it can influence others to make a change and the effect size can magnify and grow exponentially.  This source of power is a key to what we see in political campaigning this time of year.  One person can inspire others to act, that inspires others to act, and so on.

And while ripple effects can be powerful sources for positive change, they can also be sources of stress.  Ripples are the after-effect changes, the unfolding stressors we have to live and cope with in an ongoing manner.  They are often unpredictable and can be isolating as they may go unnoticed, especially by others, compared to the big change itself.  For example, when we experience a profound loss, we lose the companionship and connection to the person who has died.  But months and years down the road we keep experiencing the ripple effects of the loss in a myriad of ways.  “My wife used to do the taxes,” one widow told me, or, “my son used to host Thanksgiving,” a bereaved mother shared. 

There’s no way to prevent ripple effects, but I’ve been thinking about this topic in terms of ways we can be more mindful of them.  One way involves when we’re planning for a change, we can be more conscious of thinking through the effects it will have on ourselves, on others, and on our organization or community.  Sometimes we underestimate our impact and minimize the disruption that happens when we make a change.  Part of healthy change is anticipating the effects on ourselves, the people, and the environment around us. We can think of it as a personal environmental impact report, of sorts.  Good planning can also help people adjust to our change and to make it go more smoothly and successfully.

Another way we can use a proactive approach to ripple effects is to be a sensitive support to others.  I often hear and have experienced myself that people tend to forget about your change.  Not due to any intention, but other people move on.  It might be nice to be on the lookout for ways that people may be affected in the long term by ripple effects.  For example, inviting someone to a holiday dinner after they go through a divorce or offering to give someone a ride if they are battling an illness.  Extrapolating the effect of a change for someone can help you anticipate how to be a good supporter, or for yourself, in how to prepare and ask for what you need.

In addition when change happens to a large community, it effects each of us in a different way. While we can assume some similarity, our ripple is specific to the unique landscape of our lives. The pandemic hit the entire world, but each country, state, city and family had their own challenges. It’s important to be mindful that other’s do not experience change in the same way. that we do.

And finally, being aware of ripple effects can help us recognize our potential as a rock thrower.  As Mother Theresa had said:  “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.”  We each have the ability to be a force for change in the smallest of ways.  Smiling at a stranger, asking someone if they’re ok, making a small donation, baking a meal, or saying you are sorry.  Generally speaking, you don’t have to do or post something that goes viral.  We are all influencers.

Just this past week I was totally inspired by words from a man I was working with that also made us both laugh.  He was going on about his worries about the action of someone he cared about and all the ways that he, himself, was at fault.  After listening for a bit, I asked how he knew their behavior was related to him.  He reflected for a bit, and then said with a smile, “Because…it’s all about me.”

Anxiety has a way of making us self absorbed.  Even if our obsessive thinking is about trying to please other people or do the right thing, our very process of spinning in our heads is very solitary.  We try to read other people’s minds and assume we know what they feel. Or we project, assuming they feel or think as we do or as we fear.  Of course it’s not possible, nor advisable, to be immune to other people’s opinions or actions.  It’s healthy and valued to care about what people think, especially the ones we love.  But there’ a difference between respecting what people think and assuming responsibility for it.  When we make it about us, we often act to reduce our own discomfort rather than acting to address what is actually happening with the other person.

I often laugh when I step back from my people pleasing tendencies to see how selfish I’m actually being.  I want to avoid conflict, I want the day to be pleasant, and most of all, I want people to like me.  I go out of my way to assume what other people need and want, and then assume I can deliver it.  If they aren’t happy, it’s because I did or didn’t do something.  In essence, I make it all about me.  And in doing so, I put pressure on the other person to show they’re happy or appreciative of what I’m doing.  They sense that I need them to be happy for my sake.  In fact, it may actually make it harder for them to express what they want or need, especially if they have to worry about hurting my feelings or feed into my anxiety about not being good enough. 

Self absorbed thinking can also work the other way around.  Rather than us being responsible for other people’s reactions, we instead assume others are intentionally responsible for ours. We blame them for how we feel.  I often remember my mother telling me I should put a sweater on because it made her cold to see me without one.  It seems funny, but we do this in bigger and more subtle ways all the time.  Often we make our preferences someone else’s problem.  For example, I get just a wee bit irritable when I’m hungry.  Not wanting to ruin my appetite or overeat, I would stress my husband out about coming home for dinner at the time I wanted to eat.  I’d get annoyed, and especially when he got home late, a wee bit snarky.  I’d accuse him of causing me to be hungry and blame my bad mood on him. Rightly, he finally called me out on it.  My preference and my reactions were not his problem.  While he would try to be home at our usual dinner time, if he was forced to be late, it was up to me to either choose to eat without him or eat a bit to even out my blood sugar.  I had to let go of the story I had built up in my head that he was disrespecting me and creating difficulty for me.  The truth was, the time he left work was not about me.

To be clear, being a considerate and generous person is wonderful and being assertive about our needs is important.  But people pleasing and obsessional thinking are different.  Giving is about the other person, while people pleasing is an attachment to someone else’s reaction in order to avoid our own discomfort. And blaming other people for our own discomfort is a way of avoiding the burden of responsibility for our reactions. Either way, personalizing reactions leads to blurred boundaries and unhealthy communication.  We can tie ourselves up in knots creating stories about what others do and why.   Stepping back to remind yourself that “it’s not all about me” is a great way to detangle ourselves.

I’ve noticed quite a few people feeling stuck lately.  Whether it’s working toward a personal or professional goal, they describe spinning their wheels (mostly mental) with good intentions, but little progress.  It’s easy to get overwhelmed by frustration and paralyzed in comparing where we are with where we wish we could be. This leads to feeling angry and frustrated and feeds into a negative mind loop, which only holds us back.  At these times, change experts recommend taking a simple small action.  No matter how little, building a chain of small steps can get us unstuck. In this post, I’ll keep it small and simple with a description of an action plan with the hope it can lead to movement in the right direction.  

An action plan is a list of tasks or steps you need to achieve your goal.  It breaks down large goals into smaller steps that build toward the larger achievement.  For businesses, action plans can be complex and detailed to address the totality of a transition.  But for most of us, the smaller and simpler we can make an action plan, the better.  All it really takes is answering the four basics: Who, What, Where and When.  The more specific, the better.  

For example, you’ve wanted to learn Spanish in preparation for travel.  An action plan might be:

• Who – me
• What – Using Babble App
• Where – in the car and in the kitchen
• When – when I drive and when I cook; minimum twice a day for three weeks

Research shows that this little bit of planning can actually lead to significant change.  It helps if you write it down and then track yourself.  Make a check mark each time you do the behavior and have a finite end.  If its open ended, it tends to fade over time.  At the end of the time frame, evaluate your progress and then recommit to a new action plan.  Fresh action plans tend to re-energize us and allow for adjustments based on how things have been and what you’ve learned about your tendencies.  

A key to an effective action plan is choosing the right behavior.  If it’s too challenging, you’ll get discouraged.  If it’s too small, it won’t bring satisfaction.  Also make sure the action you’re going to start making will actually move you closer to your goal!  

Action plans are a way to set ourselves up for success.  In choosing a goal and thinking through the four W’s, we take away the contemplating and negotiation we tend to get lost in.  Rather than reinventing the wheel every day, which offers opportunities to delay or avoid, an action plan clears away the barrier of not knowing what to do, when to do it, and how.  A good action plan can factor in work-arounds to any potential barriers that might throw us off track.  So adding in a few “if…then” caveats can be helpful.  For example, if your action plan is to walk 3 miles in the park after work 3 days a week, but the weather is too hot, you can add an ”if it’s too hot, then I’ll walk in the mall” as a contingency plan.

A good action plan channels the mental energy in thinking about a goal into actually doing something about it.  Taking action makes us feel more hopeful and builds momentum and a sense of competence.  Most often, the first step is the hardest, and once we get going, we keep going.  And another suggestion?  Don’t make your first action plan be googling action plan!  Trust me, you’ll waste more than a few hours sitting in one place reading about action plans made by the United Nations on Child and Armed Conflict and clicking on pretty images of colorful diagrams.  Don’t ask me how I know.  (Perhaps in general googling anything shouldn’t be considered an action.)

If you were like me, the thought of having a computer generated friend seemed pretty appalling.   As a society already suffering from an epidemic of loneliness, it seems absurd that we’d be turning away from real connection and intimacy, subbing out human relatedness for a superficial, literally artificial version.  But over time, in reading about the possibilities and potential uses, I’ve become more open minded.  And now,  I laugh at myself for my naïveté.   It’s already way too late to think about whether it should happen or not, because it’s already here.   Most experts predict that millions of people will be forming close relationships with A.I. chatbots.  They’ll meet them on apps that can be downloaded for that purpose, or use them through social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat.   So perhaps what’s most important to think about now is how best to use them.  And in considering this, I find myself asking, “Would I?  Could I?  And why?”

A recent example of what’s influenced me in my opinion of A.I. companionship is reading about a robotic companion named ElliQ.  ElliQ consists of a small digital screen and a separate device about the size of a table lamp that vaguely resembles a human head but without any facial features.  The device swivels and lights up when it “talks.”  Unlike Alexa and Siri, ElliQ can initiate conversation and was designed to create meaningful bonds.  It tells jokes and can discuss complex topics, like religion.  In a New York State effort to ease the burdens of loneliness for its older residents, many of whom are widowed, divorced, and isolated, ElliQ devices were distributed to hundreds of people.  Since the state began this project in a pilot study, roughly 900 devices were given out and according to a report from the Office for the Aging, 95 percent of users say the robots are “helpful in reducing loneliness and improving well being.”  New York State is now allocating $700,000 a year to its budget to include ElliQ for individuals and senior living facilities.  Seniors interviewed reported it helped stave off boredom, practice social skills, and cope with their grief from the loss of a significant loved one.  

Other proponents of A.I. friendship also point to its value as a tool for mental health and companionship.  Users who struggle with social anxiety and autism report that it helps in practicing social skills.  Others report it as a way of getting support when they need it.  The sophistication of the algorithms and language processing creates personalized experiences and users report meaningful conversations.  Research on the long term effects of A.I. companionship is limited, due to it being so new, but it does seem that it can be a short term benefit.  One study conducted by Stanford researchers in 2023 found that some users of A.I. companions reported decreased anxiety and increased feelings of social support.  A few even indicated their A.I. companion had prevented them form self harm and even suicide.  

But there are concerns about these A.I.friendship devices including how data is stored and used and the unreliability or instability possible with such artificial friends.  When an App developer changes features, or increases fees for their availability, it can leave users feeling vulnerable and betrayed.  Other people worry about the social effects of immersing ourselves with “friends” who only tell us what we want to hear and don’t provide a real word experience of needing to be reciprocal and empathic to others.

Kevin Roose, a New York Times writer, expressed it well after testing six apps and interacting with 18 A.I. character friends for a month, sometimes having group conversations with them.  He wondered, “Can A.I. friends actually make us less lonely, or is their presence just an illusion of intimacy?”  While these companions can be good for some people , he also wonders if they are really just a distraction from our loneliness.  He worries that as the technology improves, we’ll miss out on the spontaneity and depth of real connection.  We might settle rather than make the effort to engage in relationships that are less predictable and with someone who may say things that could be important, but hard for us to hear.  As with most things in moderation, Mr. Roose sees a place for A.I. companions as an adjunct to our social experiences, but not as replacements.  If made responsibly, these companions can serve in a role as “flight simulators” to social engagement, he proposes, or a low stakes way to get some support or stimulation.

Which takes me back to my own question about if I would or could use an A.I. companion and under what circumstance.  After reading quite a bit about it, I actually think perhaps there would be ways it could be of use to me.  Sometimes I just want to vent about something that I don’t want to keep burdening others about.  For example, when I was caregiving for my mother, it would have been nice to have a “friend” that could support me.  I didn’t want to keep burdening my real life people with the same old complaints or stress stories, so it might have been nice to have a supportive voice available on demand.  Or perhaps I might create a work out coach to chat with.  I’d never want to give boring and tedious daily reports of my diet and exercise accomplishments and failures to people I care about!  Because I care about them!  But an A.I. chatbot who could give me a lift when I fell off the wagon might be just the companion I could burden. 

But then again, who am I kidding?!  I tend to anthropomorphize every device in our house!  I feel badly when our robot vacuum is lost or running low on battery (it’s so tired)!  I say please and thank you to Alexa, worrying about sounding too harsh in my commands.  And although I know it’s silly, I like that I care about them, as it feels natural to be grateful for their assistance.  So for me, I wonder if adding more “relationships” may just dilute the energy and effort I have for the people in my life I really want to be there for. 

I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, as it seems unlikely to escape the many A.I. people moving into all of our neighborhoods.  I just hope I don’t start worrying if I forget their birthdays or stress about hurting their feelings if I haven’t talked to them in a while.  Or even more of concern, is once I create a companion and give it “life,” how will I feel if I choose to end it?

When I was in first grade I was terrified about moving up to second grade.  I thought the kids looked so big and capable and that there was no one there who would be my friend.  I wasn’t able to think ahead that I, too, would be older and more capable by the time I got there.  I simply projected the me I was then into the future. And although I was young and naive at 7 years old, I do think this happens all the time in varying ways and at varying ages.

Seeing change in ourselves is difficult, as we’re used to being the person we’ve been.  But seeing ourselves as we’ll be in the future is even more difficult. Predicting ourselves as how we’ll be in a year, or even more challenging, a few years time, we tend to simply project who we are now forward.  

At work, in training young psychology interns and medical professionals, I talk with them all the time about their insecurity.  Most of us have experienced what is known as imposter syndrome.  We see ourselves as the inexperienced person in a role that feels hard to imagine us being competent in.  We have doubts about our ability to grow and evolve to become what we’ll be.  We’re forced to have faith in a process of maturity and the internalization of experience.  When I hear interns talk about their fears in becoming licensed, I have to remind them that they’ll be a different person by the time that happens: more competent, capable, and by then they’ll be teaching the new group of interns entering the program.  That is what the intern year is about and they have to trust the growth process.

But the flip side is also true.  We have trouble trusting the aging process in terms of our own decline.  We see ourselves as we are now in the future.  It’s scary and unpleasant to acknowledge the process of aging when we’re in the final acts of it.  At this point, I can joke about having my mini donkeys pull my wheelchair or having to yell so my husband can hear.  It’s easy to laugh about it when it seems like a distant future.  But there are apparent truths I must face now that feel heavier.  My identity is changing, both in how I see myself, but in how others see me.  I am an older person at work now and am shifting to letting younger people have opportunities.  I notice myself pulling back for their sake, but also for my own.  They’re more capable than me in many areas now and their ambition is palpable and forms the foundation for the future.  My work/life balance priorities feel different.  My identity is expanding and my willingness to adapt to a culture or decision process I don’t fully agree with is less flexible.

Looking back five years ago when my husband and I started seriously thinking about a plan for retirement, my view of who I would be even now wasn’t accurate.  I ache more, I forget more, I’m less willing in some areas and more in others than I thought I’d be.  My predictions were on target in some areas and but not at all in others.  But it does feel really good to have started a plan that serves as a bit of a safety net for how we‘ll handle the inevitable changes that we both fear and look forward to.

Most all of us go through this with our aging parents.  It’s so damn painful to watch our once strong leaders struggle and weaken.  When we first started planning for my mother coming to live with us in California, she joked about becoming the “old lady up the hill.” But in time, it did happen, but not as we thought it would.  And much, much sooner due to her disease.  One of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do was take away her car keys.  And then her cane to use a walker, and then her walker to use a wheelchair.  She didn’t see the need and was angry and closed off to speaking about it.  The saddest part was knowing how years earlier her younger self would not have wanted to put me in this position.

And this leads me to what prompted me in thinking about all of this.  The debate.  It broke my heart, as it did to many who respect and admire Joe Biden.  It makes me wonder if the people around him love him enough to confront his truth or if they are vested in keeping him in power for their own self interest.  No person wants to see themselves as they are when they face decline, let alone predict future decline.  But if we are lucky enough to live long enough, it will happen, guaranteed.  How we handle it will be our legacy.

Today, being Father’s Day, I’ve naturally been thinking about my Dad.  He was such a role model for me in facing change with courage and resilience.  There were several times when my Father had to change his identity almost instantly by circumstances completely out of his control.  In fact, in one distinct occasion he literally was released from a hospital with the challenge of recuperating and starting from scratch in remaking a career.  But my Father had a very strong determination to change his identity as needed, not dwelling on what was lost, but seeing new possibilities in what he had to gain.  So in his honor, I did some reading about the topic of identity and change.  In doing so I was amazed at how he had instinctively done just what the research shows are the recommended steps for successful transformation.

Researchers Madeline Toubiana, Trish Ruebottom and Luciana Turchick Hakak (Harvard Review) conducted hundreds of interviews with people who had gone through various kinds of positive or negative identity shifts.  They found that many people experienced a sense of stuck-ness, or as the authors called it, identity paralysis, in which their sense of self couldn’t keep up with their new role.  This tended to happen especially when a major change was forced on someone.  But they also noticed a pattern of people who were able to make the identity shift and were open to growth in contrast to stuckness.  From their work, they outlined five strategies that enabled people to move forward with change, whether they were happy about it or not.

The first strategy was to acknowledge a distinct break from the past.  Many of the people they interviewed noted an event or moment that marked an acceptance of the change.  For many, it was like a tipping point, in which they felt a break with the past and the beginning of something new.  The particular event or experience was not as important as the fact that there was a symbolic shift to a new way of being. Some examples include packing away an old uniform or getting a new day planner.  The act itself may be small, but it carries a meaning of a new beginning and creates a ritual of letting go and becoming open.

A second strategy was creating a narrative about your transition that links your old self to your new self.  In this way you tie up loose ends of who you used to be.  For example, someone who left a high paying job to do something simpler can shape their story around the importance of sacrifice in becoming a better parent.  Or in the case of someone who is moving beyond a troubled past, they may tell their story in terms of their past behavior shaping who they are now, how they moved from darkness to light.  Having a narrative helped people to weave their past into the present without needing to hold on to it.

A third strategy involves acknowledging not just the facts, but the emotions that can get stuck in the past.  Frequently anger, sadness, shame, or hopelessness can be an anchor that weighs us down.  Researchers noted that people who were able to work through the feelings that were holding them back had a better chance of being open to their future self.  This might include letting go of shame, forgiving yourself or someone else, or refocusing your energy in a new attitude and reframing your feelings.  For example, instead of allowing herself to be stuck in shame after she lost her job, a researcher noted how one interviewee had worked to shift her feelings into pride in starting her own business.

The next strategy involves broadening your identity.  Research shows it is possible to have a number of identities at the same time.  If you are uncomfortable with your identity in one area of your life, you can shift your focus to another aspect of your identity as a way of coping and getting through a difficult transition.  Recognizing we are all composites of many identities can help you feel more resilient when one identity is challenged.  

And the final strategy outlined was perhaps what I remember most about my Father’s process of resilient change.  He had a great imagination for visualizing what might be possible.  Researchers noted that people who were most comfortable in their new identities were people who imagined their current circumstances were stepping stones in a path to their ultimate desired future.  Fantasy was, in fact, a great beacon of hope to the future, even if for some interviewees, the fantasy was objectively unrealistic.  What was important was to have an abstract future, a daydream, that they could lean into in order to see beyond their past, and even through their challenging present.  

My Father earned a PhD in science when he was 25.  Despite leaving the field and having a career trajectory that led him way outside of chemical engineering, he didn’t let that stop him when he lost his business in1990.  He had been shot during a robbery at his transmission shop and nearly died.  But after a long recovery, my father brushed off his degree from 1955 and made his way back into his beloved world of science (much changed over thirty years).  With mostly his own conviction and dream to rely on, he became a consultant for several companies across the country experimenting with polymer chemicals.  It took some time and some u-turns, but I had never seen my Dad happier than when he was off to the airport with his briefcase.  And I do not exaggerate when I tell you that he had to carry an x-ray because he triggered the airport security screening with metal pellets from his gunshot wound that still were embedded inside him.  The man who shot my Dad was never caught and my Dad never was able to reclaim the business he had lost, but to him, it didn’t matter.  Dr. Leonard Weissbein was too busy conjuring up experiments and postulating formulas.  

Happy Father’s Day, my dear Dad.  In your honor, I just read an abstract I found online from a journal article you wrote in 1960!!  From the Textile Research Journal, Volume 30, Issue 1: The Physical State of Direct Dyes in Viscose and its Influence: Part I: A Method of Examining the Physical State of Direct Dyes in Viscose.  Sure wish you were here to explain it to me!!

I love this time of year because it provides the opportunity for so many happy memories.  Graduations, weddings, and summer travel are the perfect framework for family photos and good laughs as we come together for big adventures.  But as I get older, and hopefully wiser, I realize that some of the most precious things I want to remember don’t always come with such big hoopla and packaging.  Because of it, though, they’re easier to forget.  So, in response to this, I started to do a little digging around about memory and how to help my brain hold on to more of what I cherish. 

Most of what we intensely remember, research shows, is related to emotional arousal.  It turns out the neurobiological systems mediating emotional arousal and memory are closely linked.  This makes sense as a survival tool.  When we are faced with things that are traumatic, our neurobiology is primed to encode it, so that we can prevent it from happening again.  In fact, traumatic memories are often stored so deeply as both body memories and a re-experiencing, they can create a syndrome we know as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  We’ve all had the experience of reliving a car accident or a fall when time seemed to slow down and when we can recall it as if it just happened.    

Fortunately the mechanism for encoding significant memories can also be used to recall happy events.  The enhanced encoding happens due to the release of cortisol and other biologically automatic processes that occur during intense emotional arousal.  So while, yes, bad events will kick them off, other arousing events that are stressful, but also good, can enhance our remembering of them.  The jitters in walking down the aisle, the thrill of kicking the winning goal, or the pain of giving birth to your most precious being – all arousing!!

But how, then, do I enhance my memory for the beautiful ordinary?  The way I feel when my daughters visit and tell me about their lives, or when my husband pridefully tells me he figured out how to fix the leak, or when my friends invite me to dinner for a girls night for no other reason than they want to. Fortunately, researchers have thought about that, applying what other researchers have found for encoding memories.  For example, Chip and Dan Heath, in The Power of Moments: Why Certain Experiences Have Extraordinary Impact suggest ways to approach interactions that will kick up the likelihood of remembering them using what arouses us.

First see if you can boost up the sensory appeal of a situation.  Take in what you are seeing with vivid detail, what it smells like, or what you are listening to.  It’s ok to ask someone to repeat something that feels pleasurable to hear! Reach out and touch it, as well.  How does the sofa you are sitting on feel, or the smooth table at the restaurant, or the taste of your pasta.  Take the time to pull in all of your senses.

Another tool can be to break the script a little bit.  Surprising things tend to be remembered more than the usual.  Try meeting the person you cherish in a new environment for the two of you.  Neuroscientist David Eagleman writes that when you inject novelty into your life, you prevent the blur of things running together.  Research shows that when older people look back on their lives, a disproportionate number of their big memories come from a narrow window of time – from age 15 to 30.  And it’s not because their memory was better then, but because so many new things happen in this time, so many firsts.

Another strategy?  Create moments of pride  We tend to remember events like graduations, winning a prize, or achieving a goal because of the strong feelings we get from being appreciated.  But these events are rare and don’t always apply to the everyday beauty we live in.  But getting creative with our planning can help.  Create an anniversary event or a reason to appreciate someone.  For example, have a celebration for ten years of friendship!  Or a “You are my best co-worker” lunch.  Creating and celebrating what can feel like “silly milestones” will make it even more memorable because it’s unexpected.  You can even create arbitrary milestones!  My book club is reaching its 100th book and a member has initiated a club meeting at a winery for a tasting and discussion.  We’re all going to remember that!!

And a final suggestion for creating lasting memories in your relationships based on research – struggle!  No, don’t pick a fight with someone you love, but do things that require some challenge or meaningful effort.  Painting a room together or playing another family for touch football are far more likely to be remembered than watching a movie. Researcher Dimitris Xygalatas reports that groups that go through “high ordeal” events rather than “low ordeal events” are far more bonded.  It’s often the things that at the time felt like chores that we remember fondly.

The anniversary of my Dad’s death is coming up soon.  Some of my most intense memories of him were certainly during times of high arousal, some really tragic and others ironically very funny (looking back at least).  But I’d also like to take the time to remember the quiet things about my Dad.  The way his chest of drawers squeaked when he opened it to pick out his clothes for the day.  Or the way he lit up when we were on a fishing trip or smiled when I talked about school.  And the many, many, seemingly ordinary and routine afternoons of watching football together.  I still think of him every single  time I watch a game.  But, then again, we are NY Giants fans, and that is frequently traumatic.