Friday, October 26, 2007

Isn't it Ironic?

It’s like rain on your wedding day, the good advice that you just didn’t take.
Ironic, Alanis Morisette

How we struggle with life’s ironies. Or as we say in psychology, hindsight is 20:20. The key is to be able to move on. Preferably, we’d like move on and learn something.

I’ve heard a lot about unhappy endings this week. Actually, I hear a lot about unhappy endings most weeks. There are ways to look at these endings, whether it’s the end of a relationship, the manuscript rejected, or the job interview flubbed, in healthy, positive and productive ways.

Unlucky (not worthless). I’ve borrowed this from sports. It wasn’t a bad shot, it just missed by a hair: unlucky. The pitch was a little more inside than planned, but not terrible, just unlucky. It wasn’t stupid to try the relationship, it just turned out unlucky. The manuscript wasn’t awful, the editor didn’t like your sense of humor: unlucky. You didn’t totally blow the job interview, the interviewer just didn’t think you’d be a good fit: unlucky. I have a folder for certain editor communications called…you got it, unlucky.

Where’s the learning edge? Now that you’ve accepted that you’re not a worthless individual who doesn’t deserve a relationship, to be published or to have a job, it’s time to consider what you might learn from the experience. What is it about this relationship I do not want to repeat in the future? Similarly, what did I like that I would like to see in the next relationship? Do I edit the manuscript to change the tone, or just try another editor? Preferably one with a sense of humor more like my own. What was I weak on in the interview and how can I improve on it? What did I do well?

What opportunities does this present? As most of us acknowledge at the end of a relationship, it probably wasn’t going to help our happiness much in the long term. The manuscript rejected might be improved or it might force me to send it someplace that’s a bit of a stretch. If the interviewer didn’t care for me, I might not care for the company. And a better opportunity might come along tomorrow.

If all else fails, remember: whatever doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

And remember, even when you’re focused on the pain of it

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end
Closing Time, Semisonic

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Changes

To obtain the full benefit of this entry, while reading, listen to Changes by David Bowie.

I love it when a client says words to the effect of: you know, I just don’t care about [fill in the blank] anymore. It could be the job, the boyfriend, the thighs.

I love it when people say things like: you know, all of a sudden, I just did it; I couldn’t understand why it seemed so hard before.

That’s how change happens. It can be so easy, in that vaguely surreal way that some things simply seem to come to us. There is a confluence of events. Things collide, collude, conspire even, to make change happen. You feel different, you do something different, and almost immediately, there are ripple effects.

Why something is so isn’t as important as recognizing the need to change it, and making the change happen. Later, you can worry about why. If you still care.

I believe people have an amazing ability to make change happen. It might be controlling your anger, it might be getting sober, or it might be writing a book. It’s risky though. If I’m not angry, people might listen to me, and maybe what I say isn’t important. If I’m sober, I might have to have real relationships with people, and maybe I'll get hurt. If I write my book, maybe no one will read it, or if they read it, maybe they'll hate it.

In other words, if I try something different, I face the possibility of failure. But if I don’t, then something is lost to me. The choice between safety and risk is always a difficult one. I believe that we can take risks to live our dream. Sometimes we need a helping hand to get there, or a gentle kick in the pants.

Coaching and therapy generally ask that the client plunge deeply and quickly into the sometimes murky waters of change. My interest in therapy and in coaching both stem from my passion to facilitate change in people on an individual basis. And my belief that such change is infinitely more possible than many think.

I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
Bowie

Monday, October 1, 2007

Slow Starts

When I attended my first workshop in life coaching, Ben Dean, one of the life coaching gurus, said, if you don't get on this in the first two weeks (or four, or some ridiculously low number of weeks) chances are you won't become a life coach. Two years later I took my first life coaching course and I've been at it ever since.

I note that I started this blog in April, then no post til December, then a flurry since July.

Sometimes you have to break the rules.

Take smoking. One study showed that it takes people an average of approximately seven tries to quit, without treatment. For some it may be only one or two tries. For others, maybe nine or ten. That means that if you're in the nine or ten group, you ought not quit trying to quit. You can still get there.

Often I find myself interested in something and I'm all over it in no time. You may be like that as well when it comes to some things. The key is to try not to be so predictable that you can't think outside the box.

I am not a big fan of never and always. As in, oh he'll never stop smoking, he's already tried half a dozen times. Or, serious writers always write daily.

What's my point? I suppose I'll have to disagree with WC Fields', if at first you don't succeed try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it. I'd go more with Mason Cooley's, if at first you don't succeed try again, then try something else.

If you want something, keep going after it, or something like it, until you get it. Break rules sometimes and do the unexpected. Sometimes you get disappointed, but perseverance pays off. To quote Maya Angelou: Nothing will work unless you do.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Divorce Lessons

A friend was talking about her impending divorce and asking about my experience.

Yes, it's hell. Yes, it's devastating. I didn't know how I was going to manage, but...

Actually, after a while, being on my own started to suit me. It's nice to be able to call all the shots. It's nice not to have to answer to anyone. It's nice to be responsible for myself and my decisions. It's super nice not to have to feel responsible for another adult's happiness, satisfaction and general well-being.

Don't get me wrong. I am not a proponent of frequent and senseless marriages and divorces. Especially when there are kids involved.

I am an advocate of long-term monogamy and believe heartily in the sanctity of marriage. Hell, I'm even monogamous when it comes to hairstylists and physicians. According to wictionary.org, sanctity is defined as, I'm paraphrasing here, that which is inviolable, sacred. On inviolable, from the same source, not susceptible of being violated, corrupted or profaned. And sacred? Something inviolable.

Here's where it starts to get sticky. I believe that when the sanctity of marriage has been violated, there is no marriage. They don't call it a partnership for nothing. I think we can all come up with a dozen or so violations that would void the partnership.

Stickier yet, what if one partner is unhappy? It's not really a violation is it? But I also believe, as many if not most of us do, that we have an inalienable right to personal happiness. Yet how to define happiness. As I've said in an earlier blog, "when saying no is really saying yes," there's the quick fix happiness and the lasting, durable happiness.

I do not believe unhappy people should stay married for the kids. But in my opinion, working on the issues together is the way to get to lasting, meaningful happiness.

Check out "Grow up! how taking responsibility can make you a happy adult," by Frank Pittman. Lots of good ideas here about ways to think about relationships, needs, wants and happiness.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Give Yourself a Break

I finally figured it out. After finishing a writing project, I don’t want to write for a week or two, or more. I just don’t feel like it. But I feel a bit guilty. After all, if I’m serious about my writing I should write every day, or at least every other day, right?

I can look back and see the pattern. After something big is completed, writing project, a race, a class, I like to have a little break. I’ve trained (and I use the term loosely) for the run for months and my next run might be slow and short. I’ve studied during the class for months and when it’s over I might not look at anything related to the material for a weeks.

I used to feel bad about it, like I should always be keeping up the pace. Now I realize that I need the break. It helps things clear, or helps me rest or allow things to gel. With a writing project, I have to clear the decks and let my thoughts move on to something new. It takes me a little time to do that. With a race, I’m just plum tired of the push and I want my body to rest a bit and help me decide if I’m going to tackle another. With a class, I find when I leave the material and ideas for a while and then go back to file things away, I can see more clearly what’s really useful now and what I might need later.

Even when you love what you do, there’s pressure if you’re working hard. That’s why we take vacations. It allows us time to have a break and do something different. It’s similar to a suggestion which I’ve found really useful in my writing. Put it away for a day or two, or more, if possible. When you come back to the manuscript, you can see it more clearly from a different perspective. It often allows you to add some depth and clarity.

When you plan a break, like a reward, it feels good. It’s not like the guilty pleasure of sneaking time away which is bittersweet. Just give yourself a break. You worked hard and deserve it.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Stillness

As I stood in my kitchen eating my cereal, running water for the plant on the porch, putting away the groceries I'd just picked up, I ran out of things to do for a moment. I recalled something I'd just read before sleep last night: "when you brush your teeth, just brush your teeth;" and meditations on a shower: "Close your eyes and take some time to feel the water on your body." Both quotes from "Quiet Mind. One-minute Retreats from a Busy World" by David Kundtz.

I tried to stop and eat my cereal, savoring the taste, the feel in my mouth, the moment of doing just one thing. Being mindful we might say.

Soon after I was watering, picking up and considering what I'd do arriving home a bit early tonight. Should I run even though I'm going to yoga today? Is there someone I need to try to have dinner with?

Then, mindful of what I'd just been considering, I thought, no. Just come home, have a little time to do what you need to do. Take a little time to eat dinner quietly, alone while reading the paper and listening to music. This is a combination of things I relish doing and rarely have an opportunity to do. Give yourself permission to do it tonight I thought.

Yes. Slow down and enjoy.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Why Don't They Do the Right Thing?

Why can’t people just do the right thing? Wouldn’t that make life a whole lot easier for everyone?

These are rhetorical questions, of course. People aren’t always going to do the right thing. They’re not always going to make life easier for everyone.

What, after all, is the right thing? What I believe is correct in a given situation is, much as I hate to admit it, colored by my own beliefs and perceptions. There may be information I’m lacking. I may be blind to something others can see.

Think about what happens when a child explains to you how they got into a fight in school, they were just minding their own business, someone picked on them, they merely defended themselves. Open and shut case, right? NOT!

Turns out, according to the principal, they were not just minding their own business when they made the snide remark “accidentally” overheard by the other kid. Nor were they being picked on when they “accidentally” shoved the other kid passing them in the hall. Nor was it merely self-defense when their friends circled the pair cheering them on to an all out knock-down drag-out. Not so open and shut after all.

Many of life’s more complex dilemmas share this type of scenario. What seems quite clear is really a bit cloudy. What seems black and white turns out to have a lot of gray.

When people don’t do the “right” thing and life becomes more difficult as a result, there are some ways to try to ease the anger and frustration that inevitably results.

First, try to keep an open mind. Remember, there are two sides to every story, at least. Try to see things from the other’s point of view.

Maybe you’re not seeing everything or getting all the information. Collect more data. Find out as much as you can before drawing conclusions. And I don’t mean just getting your friends to side with you and support you in the conflict. Although there’s nothing wrong with a little healthy social support.

Is the other person pushing your buttons? Stay calm and act calm. Or, don’t act until you can do so in a calm, cool, collected manner.

Try to see the things you like and respect about the other guy. Sometimes noticing these strengths helps calm us down and act more responsibly.

Make sure you own house is in order. Have you run into this type of conflict with others? Have you had problems handling similar situations in the past? How can you approach it differently this time? What’s keeping you from solving the problem? Are emotions that have no place in the conflict getting in the way? Are your typical (i.e., not always useful) behavior patterns keeping you from solving the problem?

Bottom line, it would be great if people always did the right thing. Life would be so much easier. But a little boring perhaps? So next time you’re quite sure you’re in the right, take stock and figure out what to do next. Right or wrong, it’s always good to be past the conflict.