“I’m having a quarter life crisis, mom,” my daughter, a Junior in college, said to me.  “A what?” I replied. “A quarter life-crisis,” she affirmed. “I looked it up. It’s a thing.”  Sure enough, according to Wkipedia’s definition, a quarter-life crisis is a “crisis involving anxiety over the direction and quality of one’s life” which can happen as early as age 18 and last into the 20’s.  John Mayer even had a song about it, concerned the choices he was making weren’t leading to the fulfillment he expected.

It might be a quarter life crisis/ Or just the stirring in my soul/
Either way I wonder sometimes/ About the outcome/Of a still verdictless life/
Am I living it right?/Am I living it right?/Am I living it right?
Why, why Georgia, why?
John Mayer, Georgia

As I talked to her about it and considered how to respond, comparing the idea of a quarter-life crisis to a mid-life crisis, and the idea of any type of life crisis at all, it occurred to me that perhaps having this type of crisis at a young age may be a good thing.  When we have a life crisis, commonly around a big birthday or life event, it gets us to question our values and our choices. Wondering if how you are living is truly in line with the values you have is a great thing. The problem, however, with any life crisis is when we focus too heavily on expectations and not values.  When a crisis leads to despair, it’s often because we’re evaluating life not from our own values, but from societal expectations. Feeling like you haven’t achieved enough, made enough money, had enough success as defined by others is the root of a lot of unnecessary pain and an empty search for happiness.

In general, having a plan and meaningful expectations is a good thing.  It gives us direction and purpose. However, in looking back on my life and in hearing the stories of so many people I work with, often the very best things that happen in life were not planned and we could never have predicted.  If you had asked me at age 21 where my life would be now, I would never have predicted I would be living where I am, doing what I am doing, married to the man I am married to – and these are the very things that make me happy now.

A friend of mine shared a quote with me that feels so appropriate for this blog post: Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about un-becoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.” ~ Paulo Coelho

Thinking about this quote helps me respond to my beloved daughter around her anxiety that she “isn’t where she thought she would be at this point” in her life.  Maybe this crisis is a wonderful opportunity to learn early on that life will most often not go as you plan or expect. But along the way, she’ll find many more wonderful things she never could have even imagined!  If we are too busy looking straight ahead down the road, we’ll miss the side roads that lead to beautiful places. Taking the time, whether you are at quarter-life, mid-life or later-life, to “un-become,” shedding expectations, leaves us living within our own unique values and appreciating what we have right in front or even to the side of us.  Not that this shedding doesn’t come with pain, and often disappointment and anxiety, when things don’t work out as we had hoped at the time. But what leads to authentic happiness is having the resilience in staying the course of what matters most and being open to the unchartered course that may lead to an even better destination.

The more we can unbecome, the more likely it’ll be that over the long term we’ll be living life in line with our values, inoculating us from the kind of regrets that cause life despair.  We won’t end up at the “wrong” place if we are taking the right journey all along the way.

I attended a training on coaching people for change (thank you my Health Education Department at Kaiser) and I learned a relatively quick and easy tool for making changes.  I have tested it out a few times and found it to be helpful, especially with people who feel stuck with something they have intended to do, but haven’t quite put into action.  So if you have any New Year’s Resolutions that have already fallen by the wayside, perhaps you might like to give this technique of Focus Mapping a try.

Focus Mapping was developed by Stanford researcher BJ Fogg, who describes himself as an expert at “behavior design and persuasive technology.”  Very Silicon Valley, don’t you think? Despite its branding, this particular tool only requires a white board and some post it notes, or you can simply do it on a piece of paper.  

The first step is to think about the change you want to make.  Let’s say for example, just a random idea out of thin air, you sit a lot at work and are kind of lazy when you finish your day at a Health Center.  You’ve been intending to get more exercise, as there are days your activity tracker wonders if you’re still alive, but you haven’t been successful.  So you take your white board (or paper) and write “Most Effective” at the top and “Least Effective” at the bottom.  Then you mark “Less Likely” on the left hand side and “Most Likely” on the right side.  Now is where the exciting part comes in.  Begin to brainstorm ideas that might help you reach your goal.  Don’t judge or evaluate them, just try to come up with some creative ideas that would be steps that would help you move toward your goal.  Write each idea on one post-it note. For example, one post-it might say “pack your bag with sneakers and work out clothes the night before”.  Another might say “park your car in the far parking lot.” Try to come up with as many ideas as you can.

Once you have a pile of post-it notes, evaluate each idea on the axis of your whiteboard and stick it on.  So if the idea is “run in the morning before work,” you would ask yourself how effective this would be. Highly effective, you think.  Then ask how likely is this? Now the hard part is to be as honest with yourself as possible. While the idea sounds great, and you would love to be the kind of person with that motivation and drive, the truth is, it is not an idea that is likely to happen.  So place the post-it in the top left corner of the whiteboard, in the highly effective, but not likely category. Now go through each of your ideas and place it on the board. Once you finish it will look something like this:

Focus mapping now has identified several steps that are good places to start as a way to break through stuckness – the post-its in the “more likely and more effective” quadrant. These are behaviors that  have been vetted for changes that are likely to be effective, but most importantly, as likely to be completed. Focus mapping is also a good way to learn about yourself, as it helps explain why you might have been stuck.  For example, if your plan was to run in the morning, you will feel like a failure each day you don’t complete your plan, and give up. With your honesty, you can either change your plan, and decide that running in the morning as an idea just isn’t a good choice and choose something else to meet your overall goal, or it may motivate you to make it happen and you can break that change down into smaller steps, such as starting out by walking the block before breakfast.

As a tool, focus mapping is relatively easy, but it can generate a lot of good ideas and clarify where you are with a particular change.  You can use it for everything from drinking more water to getting a new job. The key, and this is the hardest part for most of us, is being honest with yourself about what you are and are not likely to do.  Try to be non-judgmental, as the goal of the entire activity is to pave the way toward change.  Focusing in on small steps, but ones you will actually do, will be bring bigger results in the long run!

Sitting on my shelf next to a prayer book I was given when I had my Bat Mitzvah (an ancient text for sure), is a little volume of poetry entitled Red Bird.  I pull it out when I am in need of a prayer more often than the prayer book, I must confess.  Her words about nature, love, loss, and awe, inspired not only me, but millions of her fans. Mary Oliver died this past Thursday at the age of 83.  As the rain falls outside my window this Friday morning, I am moved to reflect on her call to nature as a path to healing.

Just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate.
It doesn’t have to be blue iris, it can be weed in a vacant lot. This isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks.  
A silence in which another voice may speak.   

Mary Oliver  grew up in rural Ohio.  She endured sexual abuse and described her family as dysfunctional.  She took refuge in the neighboring fields and forests. Later in life, she moved to Provincetown, MA, where she lived for many years, finding inspiration for her poems simply in walks with her dog.  In quietly observing the life around her, her poems were a path from imagery to spirit.

Attention is the beginning of devotion.

What has always moved me personally about Mary Oliver’s words were the expression of passion and celebration of love and life, even in its pain.  I found her work comforting and her poems served as a challenge for me to look outside myself in times I was pulling inward. A cricket or a tree could be her great companion.  A master at simple imagery she created deceptively rich reflections. Nature was her great companion and she sought to inspire others to embrace its refuge. She was like a spiritual guide to snap me out of my inner neurotic obsession, befriending me with the great awe of the world.

What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
And the present is what your life is,.
And you are capable 
Of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.
So come to the pond,
or the river of your own imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,
And put your lips to the world.
And live
Your life.

Mary Oliver was a great teacher to many and she will be missed.  If you have never read any of her works, I am grateful for the chance to bring her to your attention.  May her memory be for a blessing. And may her memory be for an awakened encounter with a raindrop…or a bird’s call…or whatever is right in front of us.

When it’s over, I want to say:  all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

And lastly, one of my personal favorites:

Watching A Documentary about Polar Bears Trying To Survive on The Melting Ice Flows
That God had a plan, I do not doubt. But what if His plan was, that we would do better?

After a season of indulging, combined with the fresh start of a New Year, its natural that we’re drawn to making resolutions.  Feeling lazy and bloated, it feels good to make a firm proclamation toward a specific result. But the fact that only 8% of people will actually achieve their New Year’s resolution, I am thinking this year may be a good time to reinvent my hope of a fresh start with a more flexible, balanced approach.  So this year instead of a resolution, I am shifting to the mindlfulness based practice of setting an intention.

In order to make any sustained change, we need both determination and patience.  If we are too harsh and strict, a slip up may throw us off track and lead us to resign in failure.  If we are too lenient toward our change, we let ourselves off the hook, most likely as a fear of failure.  So to be successful, a change plan must find the sweet spot balancing effort and patience. It must offer motivation and direction, but allow for growth and regrouping.  In mindfulness practice, there is the concept of setting an intention. In Latin, “intention” comes from “intendere” meaning “to turn one’s attention toward.” Our first step toward any goal is to direct our awareness in a deliberate way.  By setting an intention, we become increasingly mindful with a non-judgmental curiosity.

Intentions allow for an overarching goal with flexible execution.  They allow us to identify areas of growth, summon courage and energy for change, but in a manner of compassion and kindness to ourselves.  Intentions invite us to view our change in broader and more meaningful ways. For example, it’s common to set a resolution to lose 10 pounds.  In doing so, we become focused on the outcome on the scale and tend to ignore the process. Studies tend to show a common paradox of this approach.  The more we focus on results, the less likely we are to achieve them. Instead, research supports a more process oriented approach, such as setting an intention for better health.  In this way, we think in a broad sense of all the steps we can take, such as our diet, exercise, and other habits, that lead to success. In her mindfulness teachings, Sarah Rudell Beach writes, “the focus of our resolution should be the process – the infinite present moments in which transformation will occur – rather than the single instance of its attainment.”

Intentions involve a constant feedback loop of awareness.  They involve a beginning again that keeps us fresh and refocused.  When we fall short in our process, we can gently bring our awareness back to our intention and begin again.  And really, the best way to achieve a resolution is to bring awareness to a behavior, recognize where we drift, and begin again. By viewing our change through a  process of intention, however, rather than a set resolution, we can make our transformation with an attitude of compassion and joy rather than judgment. Intentions lend themselves to renewal…each day, each minute, each breath.

Because change happens in layers, we tend to notice only the big changes, the ones that bring us celebrations or sorrows.  Yet, while all of this is happening, the very world around us is changing and the very body and psyches we inhabit are changing, too.   Time is moving forward in its tireless quietness, changing the very climate we live in, politics we engage in, and body parts we live through.  Our very perspectives change with each passing day, with maturing mindsets and the effects of experience. We can never live through something twice, as the very context in which an event can happen has changed.  My second daughter going off to college this next Fall, for example, is a very familiar event, yet, I am so different going through it, as well as my family being different since our first daughter left. We are wiser, more experienced, and yet, it will be completely new with the emptying of our nest.

One of the traditions I really enjoy this time of year are holiday cards, particularly the ones with the family photos.  It seems like such a great way to sum up the year, capturing in a snapshot what has changed and what has stayed the same.  New family members are added, with births and weddings, and some people are lost, with divorces and deaths. Kids are taller, older people shorter, and the hairstyles and fashions ever evolve.  These recorded images encapsulate for me the bittersweetness of the New Year, the saying goodbye to the old and the ringing in of the new. It may be happening slowly across the years or very suddenly, but everything is changing.

Even our change changes over time.  This January will be the 25th anniversary of my sister’s death. There are days that it feels like it just happened, despite a quarter of a century.  I can remember her face, the sound of her voice, the familiar feeling of sisterly rivalry or supportive praise. Yet, in just a year or so, she will have been gone longer than she was with me.  I wonder what her life would have been like, what she would have thought of my girls, my home, my friends and wonder if we still would have had the same squabbles we did, all those years ago. Yet, my attitudes have softened and my pain has shifted.  Our differences seem trivial and even my own stories of her have been shaped by the years of retelling. She is still 33, still and forever more. The truth is, I am now the older one.

I have heard it said that “Father Time always wins.”  I’d like to think that I have a less adversarial relationship  with the man. Because time also heals, renews, and gives us something to work toward and look forward to.  But most of all for me, it brings perspective and gratitude. With every day that passes, I may have more gray hair, but I also have more appreciation for the meaningful things in life that turned them gray!

When you look at the picture to the left, what do you see?  Is it a duck or a rabbit? Can you see both?  This illusion was  created by Joseph Jastrow, an American psychologist who was studying perception.  Would you be surprised to know that he found more people see a duck when tested in October, but a rabbit when tested close to Easter?

This type of experiment is one of many that researchers use to study how people form opinions and make judgments.  As scientists have learned more about complex mental functioning, it has helped us understand how our brains gather and then interpret information. According to Lisa Feldman Barrett, a researcher at Northwestern University, the brain is an “inference generating organ.” It is constantly filling in information to make sense out of ambiguous sensory input.  We are exposed to simply too much sensory information for the brain to process, so it uses predictions as a way of organizing information. In other words, if it is Easter, you are primed to see a rabbit, and so that it was what you will see.

In life, when interpreting ambiguous information, most of us are primed to see things in a way that is consistent with what we know or habitually think. This is known as “cognitive dissonance,” first posited by Leon Festinger. He observed that people will “cognize and interpret information to fit what they already believe.”  And further studies show the power of this can be very strong. That even when faced with contradicting information, we will hold on to a perception that is comfortably consistent with what we already believe, even if it means slightly distorting the new information or altering our memories.  And we do so without even realizing it! As Barrett writes,  if “the sensory information that comes in does not meet your prediction, you either change your prediction-or you change the the sensory information you receive.” Beliefs act like a lens, focusing our perceptions and our memories toward what we already believe.

So what does this have to do with getting along with my Uncle Fred this holiday, you may be asking?  I hope it will give you some understanding of how you can watch the same football game and one of you will be convinced that the NY Giants receiver was robbed of a touchdown by what should have been a penalty, and the other will be sure that the Dallas defender did a great job in coverage.  Or have greater tolerance for when you hear the latest news regarding the Mueller investigation, climate change research, or Supreme Court decisions and have completely different interpretations as another family member. It is not “just about the facts, ma’am.” It has to do with the way our brains are perceiving these facts.

So save yourself some frustration and energy this holiday.  Don’t waste your time and spirit trying to show Uncle Fred the slow motion rerun of the football play.  Don’t think that if you can just present the right argument or if Grandma could just be shown the “facts,” that she will see the light. And forget trying to convince your brother how Mom took his side in every argument.  The best way to get along in the short term is to agree to disagree. Because the truth is, as author Tom Vanderbilt explains, we all see the duck or the rabbit we knew was there.

While we’re still digesting turkey and pie, the world quickly shifts to Christmas (although it’s been Christmas at Costco since Halloween.)  And with the way the lunar calendar falls out, Hanukah is practically here, the first night being December 2nd! With wildfires and hurricanes and political fall out, there is a darkness that hangs over this season, possibly for you, but most assuredly for someone you love.  It can be a lonely time for people, and compounding it, people who care may hold back from reaching out, simply out of discomfort of not knowing what to say or what to do. In thinking about this, I found a great resource to help us all stay connected and supportive this season.

#OptionBThere is a website that offers tips and support for people going through loss or hard times and for the people that care about them during the holidays.  It is a timely edition of the larger OptionB, which is a website based on the book written by Sheryl Sandberg (of Facebook) and her experience of losing her husband suddenly.  Worried about raising a son alone, she consulted experts about how to build resilience after tragedy. From the book, she began the website that offers guidance and ways to connect with others. They have literally hundreds of articles and support group options for everything from grief and loss, incarceration, divorce and separation, health and injury, abuse and sexual assault, and LGBQT facing rejection.  

One of the best gifts you can give this holiday season is to be there for friends and loved ones who are separated from family, coping with loss, or going through other challenges. Small gestures of love and support—from heartfelt cards to thoughtful conversations—go a long way.  #OptionBThere

Some good tips from #OptionBThere include offering practical help to someone, including grocery shopping, cleaning, cooking, or helping them manage purchasing gifts.  They also have ways to greet someone with sensitivity and words of caring, such as simply saying, “I’m here for you this holiday season.” They even have a series of holiday cards you can send for no cost via e-mail.  I was impressed that Papyrus partnered to develop these cards (it’s nice to know that’s where your eight dollars a card at Target goes).

Personally, this is my first holiday season without either of my parents.  I already feel an emptiness. While I know it will be an honor to carry on some of the traditions my parents started for us (grab bags for each night of Chanukah followed by a visit from Santa the last night?), there is a bittersweetness.  What #OptionBThere offers is a way to help people create a holiday that works for them. There is even a section advising how to “declare Your Holiday Bill of Rights.” I found it helpful just to know what I am feeling is normal and how to express it without bringing others down.

While nothing can replace someone you love or take away the losses you experience, feeling the supportive presence of others is a huge help. So please, take the time to read through #OptionBThere and share it with people you know. And if you really feel the giving spirit, go ahead and make a donation. In the words of Option B:  “show your friends and loved ones that you’re there for them – and that you understand how they’re really feeling this holiday season.  Blah-la-la-la-la,la-la,la, la!”

 

Last week I wrote about my wedding anniversary.  This week what’s on my mind is a different kind of anniversary, the anniversary reaction.  I was hesitant to write about it because I’d written a post about it before, but then it occurred to me that repetition is exactly the point!  An anniversary reaction, or as Ellen Hendrickson, PhD refers to as “the echo of a trauma or a loss,” is a repetition of a date or month or even a season during which a significant or traumatic event occurred.  And for me, today being my deceased sister Sarah’s birthday, and the smoke of wildfires causing my daughter’s school to close, the echoes of multiple losses are whispering loudly.

As research shows is common, although an anniversary reaction is predictable, the intensity and quality greatly varies.  Some years on my sister’s birthday or the anniversary date of her death I find myself sad and cranky, waking up in the middle of the night until I remember.  Other years I anticipate the date, often with a mix of dread and bittersweet nostalgia, appreciating that I still care and remember my sister reflexively. As I walk around our city today, with a deep smell of smoke and the sight of people wearing air filter masks, the topic of conversation is a collective sense of traumatic recall, people triggered by the similarities with a year ago’s tragic events.  Even the checker at my grocery store shared with me her evacuation story from last year’s fire.

If you are lucky enough to live a long time, the anniversary dates will stack up.  Each season may bring the anniversary date of the loss of someone or something important.  We can have reactions to a loss of a job, an accident, or even a move from far away. Any big change, especially if sudden and unpredictable, will be stored in our psyche, ripe to be triggered by the association of the time of year it took place.  Depending on your current stress or life circumstances, the awareness and the reaction will ebb and flow.

Two big steps I’ve found helpful are preparation and ritual.  If I note the date ahead of time in my calendar and create some kind of commemoration, as small as lighting a candle or reading a poem, or visiting somewhere that has pleasant memories, it gives my feelings a container and a space to be experienced.  It also helps to tell people. Even if it has been a long time since the actual event, trauma lives in our minds and our bodies, and the best healing for trauma is sharing our stories and finding comfort.

WIth the holiday season coming, filled with all of the traditions and memories, it’s important to remember that life is rich and complex.  We can have both pleasant and distressing memories at the same time, connected to the same event. An anniversary can make us feel sad that so much time has passed since we were last with someone we loved and we also can cherish and have gratitude for the person we lost and the new love we have found.

And lastly, for most people, an anniversary reaction usually is a finite period of time.  It helps to remind myself that once the date passes, I usually feel better within a few days or weeks.  And if you don’t, it may be a good opportunity to reach out for some help. Our grief changes as we change, and even when we think we have worked through something, it just may need to be revisited again.  There is nothing wrong with you if sadness or trauma resurfaces. In fact the best anniversary gift you can give yourself for old trauma might just be some new support and compassion.

If according to tradition the first anniversary gift is paper, the 10th is tin, and the 20th is china, what should the 23rd  be?  Just recently,  my husband and I decided to go with technology. On sale at half price, we gifted ourselves a robot vacuum cleaner that would help with the dust and fur that collects on our great room floor.  While I joked about it being the most unromantic gift we could find, little did I know how that black and silver bot would grow on me, winning over my heart with its can-do attitude and its daily offering of perspective and inspiration.

Each morning at the programmed time, our little bot buddy heads out to work.  It ventures ahead doing its job until it bumps into something. Not in any way deterred, it turns slightly, proceeds, until it bumps again. Bump and slight turn, bump and slight turn, it continues on for hours, eventually traveling around our entire floor. Then, when it begins to run out of power, it takes itself “home” where it rests and recharges, preparing for the next day’s efforts.

My black bot buddy never gets upset, never blames itself or anyone else for its mistakes.  It follows its path, faces an obstacle, slightly adjusts and tries again. It never needs to hide its errors or recoil with embarrassment or shame.  It stays in the moment, adjusting to experience and feedback, not getting hung up on the past or worrying about the future. It rests and recharges, never a sleepless night.  Bump and turn, bump and turn.

What would it be like, I wonder, if I could be more like my roomba?  How would it be if I let myself try, bumping into life’s roadblocks, without the self critical voice or the generalization of one little bump meaning more than it has to.  In fact, the bumping is part of the process, a natural state of going forward without knowing in advance what the journey looks like. If I could view every bump I encounter as guiding feedback, a message for adjustment, how much calmer would I be?  How much less would I worry about my daughters and feel energized instead of stressed?

What a great metaphor for a successful life as well as a successful marriage:  Wake up each day with purpose; let experience be your guide; then go home for rejuvenation.

 

I was e-mailing a friend and colleague that I hadn’t talked to for a while, trading our “How have you beens.” Her response was not what I expected, however, and made me stop for a minute to re-read. “I am no longer the busiest person I know,”  Rossana shared, and described the deliberate changes she’d made to slow down, do less, and make space for quiet. As I thought about what surprised me, it occurred to me how rare it is, and actually refreshing, to hear somebody so pleased and proud to be less busy.

It’s much more common to hear the opposite, I think most of us would agree.  So frequently when you ask someone how they are, you’ll hear them go on about how busy their lives are, between work, travel, and social engagements. And especially people who are retired, I’ve noticed, will tell you how so very busy they are, even when they have no professional obligations and set their own schedules!   What is it that makes us overstuff our lives, making a plan for every moment? It almost seems that being busy is a badge of honor that proves we’re important or popular. While most everyone, myself included, say they long for more free time, we fill up our calendars the first chance we get.

I can’t help wonder whats driving our obsessive need to do so many things and then post about it on social media.  In fact, I often discover with people I work with in therapy, and for myself, that NOT being busy brings up fears of being unworthy or unloved. We may fear losing respect or connection if we miss out on an opportunity or worry we may let someone down if we don’t live up to an expectation. We, as a society, are addicted to feeling productive, it seems. Sitting still or doing nothing feels like wasted time, and makes people uncomfortable. And cell phones are the greatest tool to help us hide, both as constant entertainment that distracts us or as a way to instantly reassure ourselves of our importance.

I also notice that in a busy culture that values achievement over affiliation, we tend to feel that “time is money.” With this pressure, time feels more and more valuable, which, ironically, makes us try to squeeze more and more into every moment.  And the more we shove into our schedules, the more harried we feel, and paradoxically, the less we enjoy what we’re doing. Even Google has noticed how impatient we’ve become. Their research shows that most people now will abandon a video if it takes more than five seconds to load!

Perhaps it’s just human nature to mistake quantity of engagement for quality.  Writers and philosophers throughout history have worried about squandering the brief time we have on this Earth.  And they didn’t have to contend with binge watching Grey’s Anatomy. So for me, Rossana’s wise example (thanks for allowing me to share it) made me reflect on the difference between being with people versus truly feeling connected, and doing something versus actually being fulfilled. The former experiences can only become the latter if we offer both our time and full attention. Because the truth is, when it comes down to living a full life, we actually need to do less to experience more.