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.