Coasting

Sometimes life surprises you, and when you think it's going to rain, you end up seeing the moon and stars over the sea...

Or when you least expect it, you make some new friends and are invited to have a fun and satisfying weekend out at the Coast.

Foggy, rainy, no matter. What's shines through is the shared experience of being close, and being glad to be in a big house with a bunch of other folks who also want to be there.

We need each other in this life.  Not just to listen and care, but to challenge, share, and be. The older I get, the more I appreciate the diversity of our shared experience of being human.

No one can argue with certain types of beauty, we all know what Spring feels like...

But we are also all different, and going along in life in our own way, making it easy to forget that we are part of the same tribe.

It's nice to be reminded.

Happy Spring!

Going Back

I had the opportunity this weekend to go back. My sister was up in Seattle for a work conference, so I drove up Saturday night to spend the evening and next day with her. We grew up there, in that rich green city, when the focus was on planes rather than computers; we skinned our knees and rode bikes surrounded by rain and saltwater and moss.

Seattle felt both different and the same; it is, as always, a city in transition. Sometimes, a city block has undergone such significant change that I become disoriented, losing almost entirely my sense of place and direction. Landmarks disappear, new ones appear, and I feel lost until there is that brief view of water, or mountains, or a familiar intersection, and focus returns.

I know where I am, but not exactly. I think that that coffee shop is just over there, but look, there is a new one. I thought that this street went all the way through, oh no it doesn't. I guess I'll take a different way.

C. and I spent Sunday just walking around, lazily, like we did when we were twentysomethings, when weekend time waited to be filled with conversations, revelations, and trips to bookstores. There were occupy protests and coffee-drinkers; lots of people in layers and Christmas shoppers. And among them were the two of us, talking about the past, present, and future, and being glad to be together.

You can't go home again, so they say, and it is especially strange when home feels like a moving target, a constantly changing kaleidoscope of gray and green and water. But being with my sister always feels like home, and being in a Seattle that feels like my life at its beginning, and not, all at the same time, that felt like home, too.

So maybe you can go back, maybe you can go home again, because home is people, and places, and moments. Home is where you find it. Home is always there, if you are willing to settle in.

The Pace of Nature

I am blessed with great, kind, generous friends.  Some of these people, I met on my own, through college, work, or simply living life.   Others, through my best friend, my husband.  This past weekend, we had the pleasure of spending time with some of those friends, two of our best friends, at a house on a lake in central Oregon.  

We had an unexpectedly glorious day, and took a leisurely drive to the house, stopping for lunch and then, even though we thought about just sitting and taking in the afternoon on the deck, walking over to the lake.

Walking to the lake sounds very romantic and picturesque.  And it was, at times...  But the lake is man made, and most of our walk consisted of walking along the muddy lake bottom, now that the water is down.  It got a little slippery, and sticky, and gloppy, but we made our way down about a mile or so and back, and by the time we were walking on the road back to the house, the sun was bright and the sky and the evening ahead felt big and welcoming.  

After our gloppy, slippery walk, we had a great night, playing games, eating wonderful food from my new cookbook, and talking about life and our lives.  And laughing.

Life isn't always perfect, but when I feel connected to someone else, when I feel able to love them and be loved, everything else falls away, and there is peace and hope and the next moment to live.  

Life, especially this modern life, feels to me to be so full of reasons to be upset, afraid, or hurt.  But, most of the time, when we feel afraid, isn't it really because we are disconnected from ourselves and our own truth?  Seeking that truth is a constant work, but isn't that seeking what creates the life worth living?

When we don't give up on seeking within ourselves, we are more likely to find others who are living real lives, and to connect with them.  And to have those wonderful evenings, weekends, talks, and walks.  May your week be filled with hope and connection, and love.

*Quotes by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Honeymoon Cabin

I have something special of mine to share today, and it comes with, as with all things worth sharing, a bit of a story.

There are people who come into your life and then are a part of it from then on, like streams flowing into a river that flows into the sea.  And there are things like that too, at least for me. The little book you see above is actually both.

When I was single and living in Seattle, in the throes of my quarter-century ordeals, I used to wander around junk shops to pass the time on lonely Saturday afternoons (pass the time? having time? what was that like?). It was a comfort activity, something I often did with my family growing up, an activity that felt sure.  I feel confident that in a junk store - as long as it is not too junky - I will find a treasure, a moment of beauty.  Maybe I'll buy it, maybe not, but I almost always see something interesting, full of history and time.

I imagine that on the day I found this little photo book, it was raining, and I was in Ballard, a neighborhood in Seattle, roaming around with my heart in my stomach, berating myself for not doing the right things, for not knowing who I was.  Oh, those were the days.

But on this particular day, I found something unexpected. Along with something beautiful to look at and touch, I found two new people, and they have been with me ever since.

It would be kind of strange to call them 'friends,' but that's what they feel like. I found their beautiful love book in a drawer full of old postcards. I bought it for $5 and felt like a thief.

The book is a love story, seeming to have been made by him and given to her.  It tells the story of two people who were in love for a long time, and then finally able to be together, and how glad this made them both. You can see in each picture how they delighted in each other, how much fun they had together; the photos show the timelessness of true connection.

 
I don't know their names or where they lived, but their little book has traveled with me through many moves and life changes. I bring it out sometimes when we have people over, when the night has reached a time for sharing.

K. and I look at the book and wonder "Where are they in this photo?", "Who do you think that is?"  He said the other day that it was too bad that they didn't write down more details about the photos, but I think that just adds to the mystery.   Besides, they didn't need to, because when it was made, the only people who mattered already knew.

Their story has inspired me over the years many times.   I see in them the love, friendship, and constancy I now know to be a part of long-term togetherness.  I hope that their extended courtship led to a long, happy life together.  Little did they know that their memento would add so much to someone else's life.  I hope you enjoy it, too.

Leafing

Fall is striking. Spring brings relief and joy; summer, relaxation, but Fall stuns with the beauty of death and the completion of the cycle. Fall stirs in me both melancholy and an intense gratitude for the experience of being alive. There is a kind of urgency as each silvery Fall day glitters like a melting jewel. I take deep breaths and do my best to simply accept each day as it comes, rejoice in its beauty, let it go.

I recently went for a weekday afternoon walk in my neighborhood. This is a rare thing, as I am usually downtown working at the office during the week. But on this day, I was home, so I was lucky to have the chance to go walking, armed with a light canvas bag for collecting leaves.

When I was a freshman in college, as the first Clinton election approached, I went crazy for leaves (and flannel and big, baggy Levi 501's). My new best friend and I would gather armfuls and take them to the student union, to people's apartments, to the long wooden table at the sorority house we would both leave the next year.

I went to college in Northern Idaho, and on that beautiful Moscow campus there are many many towering oaks and maples, so there were always lots of leaves to be found. This friend of mine was also into puns, so for many weeks I received notes written in purple pen that said "I leaf you" or "Don't leaf me." As many at that age are, we were quite infatuated with our own cleverness.

 

I thought then that we would be forever friends, but it wasn't to be, and that close, clever friendship turned out to be fleeting. Really, we both changed, and thus went, in different ways. The next Fall, she was in Sweden on exchange. We both made new friends, fell in love, changed. We wrote almost daily emails for that whole year and nothing indicated that it would be the last year of our closeness, in fact, the opposite. The messages were long, detailed missives about everything that was happening for each of us. But the next year, when she returned, everything was different.

Sometimes friendships recover, sometimes they don't. We both made our efforts at different times, trying to honor the two years, one real, one virtual, that we had been so close, but it never came back together.

Now when the leaves fall, I think of her, and of being so young, so full of ideas and thoughts and self-importance, and of rejoicing in the season of death and return when my existence felt eternal.

On my walk the other day I filled my bag with leaves for another old friend, who lives where there is no Fall, and who I missed seeing this year, and have missed too many times. I pressed them and sent them to her with a card, to tell her that I'm glad we're friends, that she is special to me. Because Fall is a time for planting, too.

Unexpected Reward

Weddings always inspire the silly poet in me.  I recently had an experience that was both an honor and a first: I attended my first client wedding.  It was so fun.  I didn't know exactly what it would be like to see a client I cared about and had seen through good times and bad be celebrated, it was even better than I could have expected.   An unexpected reward for the work I do.

So here's a little silly ditty for the happy couple.  May they love and grow and love and grow.

Celebration
In Honor of J&B
 
Celebrate life, celebrate love,
celebrate leaves falling from above.

Dance to music just for you,
then invite someone else to dance with you, too.

Lean in close to a nearby ear,
someone you love, say something dear.

Don't sit and worry about what comes next,
just use your voice, or if you must, send a text.

Make sure that you say just what you mean,
Quietly, loudly, or anywhere in-between.

An Autumn poem, for you dear reader,
An Autumn poem, with a bit of love for the meter.

Examining Our Relationship to Cruelty

The notion of writing a post about bullying has been flitting around my mind for some time.  It is such a huge, important, topic. And now that cyber-bullying is becoming so prevelant, it seems that bullying in general is finally getting more mainstream attention.

It truly seems that the cyber-world is providing a new dimension for cruelty in our relationships.  A therapist I consulted with recently called out "textual abuse" in a couple she was working with, who were sending abusive texts back and forth throughout the day.  If this is what adults are doing, what in the world can we expect of a 13-year old?

I read a story about middle-school bullying the other day that was so heart-breaking I began to cry.  I won't repeat it here, to save others from having the same experience.  Or maybe I am afraid of talking about it, and am trying to protect myself.  Suffice to say, it made me want to contact every person I was ever cruel to between the ages of 10 and 18 and say, "Good God.  I am so sorry."

I think about people who were mean to me and what it would mean for them to acknowledge that at this point in my life.  Their lack of acknowledgment certainly isn't keeping me from being happy, but I do think a few "Boy, I was a real asshole to you in high school" 's, would hit somewhere deep inside.

Asking for Love

Someone you love anticipates your every need.  They try to make everything easy for you, they are always thinking of what you need next.  You never have to ask, they just do.

Someone you love does something when you ask, but only when you ask.  They do not think of it otherwise, it is not important to them.  But, whenever you ask, they do it.  

Which is love?

Some folks are caring people.  They have been trained/taught to treat others with deference and kindness, anticipate their needs, smile, be nice.  They think of others often.  But this does not mean that they truly love well. 

Some folks are not caring people, but when you ask them to do something, they do it.  This does not mean that they love well, either.  

True loving involves sacrifice.  Truly loving means that you are doing something for someone else that does not benefit you, but that benefits them.  And a benefit to you can be that you feel good about yourself.

Love should be part joyful and part difficult, because it involves sacrifice.  Sacrifice comes in the form of putting off plans that you were anticipating because your loved one needs you; sacrifice can just be saying "I'm sorry" and letting something go.

This kind of love knits the fabric of relationship.  The pattern of the weave is one thing, but without true love, there is no fabric at all.

The Laws of Attraction

Will I find love?  Will it find me?  Will I want it when it appears?  Will I have children?  Will I get married?  Will I get divorced?  How do you know?  Ahhh... a day in the life of a 20-something.

There's been some buzz recently about the idea that men in their 20's aren't interested in love and commitment.  They say that women are succeeding, men aren't.  They say that women are ready for a "man" while men remain "boys."  Hmm.... what truth is there to all of this?

As someone who listens to many of the questions above over the course of a week or a month or a year, I have to say that I don't think there is much truth to it at all.  This is the question I ask and wonder about: what about LOVE?

I've often said that if I were to write a book about finding "the one" it would be called "Patience."  Because that's what it takes.  You just gotta live your life and wait.  Many people seem to expect to "know" that they have met the person of their dreams in less time than they would take to pick out eggs at the grocery store.

The journey to mateship takes time, careful consideration, and above all, it should not feel like a choice.

Here are the few dating rules I give to my clients who are seeking love:

1.  No sex for at least a month after you've met someone
2.  Give anyone you both like and feel comfortable around at least a few dates.
3.  If you feel bad about yourself when you are with someone, give them no dates.
3a.  If you have not fallen in love with someone within 3 months, seriously consider moving on.
3b."Falling in love" means that you know what that means and are not wondering if you are in love.

The right person will...

• make you feel great about yourself without compliments, but with love and friendship
• want to spend most of their time with you
• want to involve you in their life
• challenge you
• interest you
• adore you

Man or woman, boy or girl, that initial connection, that initial love, is vital.  Having a great job, buying a house, having a retirement fund, all of these things are nice.  But it is wanting to love better that turns us into adults.

The saddest part is what goes unspoken

My saddest moments as a therapist often have nothing to do with what's being said.  Instead, they are about the heartbreak that hovers in the room and goes unspoken.

She yelled at me all morning about how lazy I was, and then took off for the weekend without calling once.  What I couldn't believe is that when she came home on Sunday night, she didn't even want to eat dinner with me.  Is that so much to ask?*

If this quote made you twitch, that's a good thing.

What is not being said here?  How much it hurts to be yelled at and demeaned.  The breach of trust that occurs when one person leaves and doesn't call.  How this should call into question the entire relationship, and how the issue should be how this person is being treated overall by an emotionally and verbally abusive partner.

Instead, it becomes about the missed pizza, or not receiving a birthday card from someone who hasn't said a respectful word in ten years, or how someone who yells at you everyday never text-messages back in a timely fashion.

This lack of self-respect, lack of self-love, is the saddest and most heart-breaking thing that I experience as a therapist.  It is what is not said, not acknowledged.   It is the looking to incriminate someone's behavior rather than weep at your own heartbreak.  It is trying to fit into someone's desire rather than draw boundaries around your own heart.

"Love yourself" is mantra we all know.  But what does it mean?  How do you put it into practice?

One day, one interaction, one relationship at a time.  Say no.  Say yes.  Take care of your self.

*All quotes in this post are completely fictionalized accounts of therapy.

Shut the Laptop: one very simple way to improve your relationship

Feeling disconnected in your relationship? Anxious?  Depressed?

Here's a suggestion: unplug.

This weekend, why not put on some music, pour a glass of wine or tea, and just sit and talk or think or read. Rediscover the person you love and cherish! (You or someone else...)

Whether you are single or in a relationship, truly leisurely, directionless time to just be and reflect is so important.  We need it to recharge, dream, and connect with others.   

This type of time does not happen when our primary relationship is with the internet.

When we are sitting on a device, we may think that we are in the room with other people, but we are not.

Think of it this way: every time you reach for your computer or phone, you are leaving the room.

When you find yourself reaching to check that [insert device of choice here], think to yourself, "Is this really what I want to be doing right now?"

Here are some suggestions for unplugging (this goes for phones, too!):

1. Turn off automatic email notification

2. Set a time when you go on the Internet for how long you want to be on the computer. When the timer rings, turn off your computer.

3. Resist the temptation to check everything every five minutes. Do what you need to do when you need to do it. Set aside time for your internet activities, and then engage in your life outside of the screenworld.

What to do instead of looking at a screen:

1. Cook a meal

2. Make a snack

3. Have a conversation

4. Give someone you love a foot rub

5. Listen to music -- dance to music!

6. Read a book

7. Leaf through a magazine

8. Plan an adventure.

9. Think about the future

and on and on...

Sounds like a vacation, eh?

Good luck with having a cozy, unplugged weekend!

Civility -- Lost Art or Loss of Connection?

I read today that Steven Slater, the Jet Blue flight attendant who left his job with a seemingly whimsical leap down the yellow airplane emergency slide--beers in hand--will undergo a mental health evaluation as part of his plea deal for the events of that day. Mr. Slater, it appears, had been under some stress.

When the story first broke, almost everyone I encountered was exuberant about Mr. Slater's courageous exit, his f-you to his job and to the rudeness of a particular passenger. And I felt it too. How many of us have wished that on our last day at a detested job we too had had a slide for our exit, had taken control in that way, spoken our mind, said what's true. It seems so heroic, romantic even.

But Mr. Slater obviously, to use a clinical term, flipped out a bit. He has been under tremendous personal stress and the final straw arrived that fateful day in the form of a "rude passenger". Even though we are much more likely to have been in her shoes as a passenger, none of us relate to her, we all feel for Steven.

But what if she had been the one who, in the face of a rude steward and a full plane, had jumped out of her seat, taken the drink cart by storm, deployed the slide and said "to hell with this!" over the intercom. Then she might have been the one cheered as all of us related to her as she was frustrated--as we all have been--by perceived bad customer service, long flights, small seats. It's all a matter of perspective. And our perspective is skewed by who we think we are, and who we wish we could be.

In my experience as a therapist, one thing overrides all others: we are hardest on ourselves. And when that doesn't immediately show, when we seem harder on others, chances are it is because we are so hard on ourselves that we can barely speak of it. At the heart of this is the fear that we are different from everyone else: everyone else has it figured out, they are fine, they are making it, they are doing great.

This delusion is one reason we love a good celebrity free fall. We want to look away from the unsightliness of it all, but part of us feel reassured, "See, she wasn't perfect, he doesn't have everything."

But, as much as we like to think of ourselves as separate, when we work to understand ourselves and truly enter into the heart of our own life, we discover the rest of humanity there too. We lose the tendency to think that we are fatally flawed and different and outcast. We see that suffering is universal, as is redemption and compassion. And in this discovery is freedom.

My heart goes out to Steven Slater. And to that passenger. May we remember that we are both of them. Our ability to relate to and judge others comes from one thing: our knowledge of ourselves. We cannot see something in someone else that we do not have inside of us. We are both exasperated employee and rude customer; villain and hero. And we all get a little stressed from time to time.

A great opinion piece about the Steven Slater incident inspired my musing today:
The Lost Art of Simple Courtesy

Courage friends, courage!

Courage is key. Fear is what holds us back, what tricks us into believing when we shouldn't, or not-believing when we should. Fear is the bogey man, the one who holds us captive.

Fear affects everyone, so dealing with it is a major concern of the therapeutic process. One of the major influences on my practice is a man named James Bugental. He articulated beautifully the process of overcoming the fear of actually being with ourselves.

James Bugental wrote many books about the process of therapy, emphasizing that therapy holds the possibility of teaching us how to be with ourselves, not just know about ourselves.

It takes time, patience, and courage to be present with oneself, to face the things that have been lurking. In that process, issues we thought we had put away can suddenly surface quickly; or there are themes we begin to notice about where our mind goes when we feel certain emotions.

This is the exciting part of therapy, whether individual or couples: discovery. It is what keeps the process alive, fresh, inspiring, and life-affirming.

I really enjoy the books of Paulo Coelho for this reason. His books stir the heart, encourage courage, and affirm life. This is what I strive to do in my work with clients, and hopefully I get there sometimes.

All Over Again

Here it is, Friday all over again.  Today in Portland, it is gorgeous, glorious, sunny, beautiful, perfect outside.  The city heaves with the wonder of it.  Everyone talks about the weekend, dreams of green grass, vegetables, and summer.

The longing for sun and its appearance in May is part of the cycle of the seasons here.  Truly.  Every year I remember this.  "Oh yeah, it will be sunny and warm and then cold again after Memorial Day, and everyone will be sad, and then it will get hot in July"  That's how it usually goes.

Yet every year we all wait for it as if it will never come.  And hold onto it as if we could.  And forget about the cycle.  Understanding the cycle, though, is where it's sweet.

This is true about our own lives, no?  When we recognize our cycles, we are able to stay more sane as they move through us.  Without cycles, we would not be alive.  This is the nature of the seasons.

In September, the evening air is cool with death, and the beginnings of winter.  But now, the evening air is cool with the warmth of summer in its breath.  And we wait, and it will come.  And then go again.

The Object of My Affection

Love is about the subjective, not the objective. Too often we see others just in the way they exist for us, not in the way that they exist for themselves. When this happens, we "objectify" them. This term is often used in reference to the way women are perceived and presented in media and culture. One is objectified when one's inner life is disregarded based on what is better for the observer. i.e. when a person is treated like a piece of cake, tasty or not, good or not, to be eaten or thrown away by the one making those judgments.

If we want love to work, if we want love at all, we have to give it, not expect it. When we put expectations on another (and I'm not talking about common courtesy and respect) for who they should be for ourselves, we kill love. When we seek to put the welfare of someone else above even or own (not to the detriment of our own, but to go out of our way to support and love someone else) we discover beauty. When a person does this for many people, they are considered a saint.

So, the next time you are wondering about your relationship, about your love, trying loving instead of trying to receive. Give more of your time, more of your self, do something they love to do, just for them, because you love them and their happiness means something to you. And then you discover the true secret: that joy in life lies in actively loving and giving. As Mother Theresa said: “We can not do great things. We can only do little things with great love.”

Honesty

Brutal honesty is one of the keys to satisfaction in life. But not the kind of honesty where you tell everyone what you think, no holds barred. No, true honesty is the honesty you have with yourself, your ability to take responsibility for your own feelings, thoughts, and reactions. And without that, honesty in relationships with others is almost impossible.

Often, we are very afraid to be honest with ourselves; it feels as if the sky will come falling down if we admit that we know in our heart of hearts that we really did mean what we said at dinner the other night. The difference in responsible honesty is that we are able to admit that yes, we meant what we said, but also, that we were saying it out of hurt feelings or anger or ...?

This kind of honesty can only happen in a safe environment. Couples often come to counseling in order to find that environment, to work on "communication and trust". These two things are completely intertwined, and cannot exist without the other. But we are talking about communication from the heart, realness. Not about what you're going to do, but about how you feel.

Sometimes we don't communicate how we're truly feeling to our partner because we are, in fact, being responsible. We realize that our partner does not deserve to hear or experience the wrath that we feel inside, that it has nothing to do with them. But we must reach beyond that type of holding in, if what we want is intimacy and connection. We must admit our own difficult emotions, but in a responsible way.

"You're right, I was being sarcastic. I guess it's because everytime you talk to him, I feel like you don't want me around, and that hurts my feelings."

Honesty requires trust, trust requires honesty. It is the circle of life, and we have to be willing to take some risks if we want to find that reward, that safe place of love that we long for.

Feeling Comfortable in Your Own Skin

What does it mean to be comfortable with ourselves?  To be at ease in the world and in our relationships, able to enjoy life's beauty and endure its hardships?  These are questions many who come to counseling are asking without even knowing it.   What is it to be happy? 

Looking outside
 
We often make the mistake of thinking that outward things are going to make us happy.  Yet even as we buy "Real Simple" or turn towards political movements in an effort to live a more simple life, we are clinging to the idea that changing what is on the outside is what will make the difference. Time and time again, though, we find that the things outside of us are not what matters -- truly, it is what is going on inside that affects our daily life.

The first step in becoming more comfortable with ourselves and in our own skin is accepting things just as they are, in this very moment.  This process is about letting go of judging that everything is terrible or perfect; it is a state of mind that allows the heart to open to the world.

Acceptance
 
We can spend a lot of time trying to fix what is in our minds and hearts -- trying to be something or someone different -- but what we need is the courage to allow and accept.  Once we are able to allow what is there to just be, we find that it suddenly changes, moves, comes to life, teaches.  This dynamic, mysterious movement allows us to come to life, too.

Acceptance leads to choice, the choice of what to do with whatever reaction we find arising inside of us.  Choice leads to empowerment, and empowerment allows for relaxation.

You are flawed
 
The quest for perfection also affects our relationships.  It is very difficult to become truly close to others if we are afraid of what they will find when they get to know us.  This is why we need to find our courage.  If we are able to face our worst fears about ourselves, we become less vulnerable to and scared of the judgments of others.  When we lose this fear, we discover the ability to love and be loved.

Though it may seem to go against everything you have ever thought, it is our acceptance of our flaws that leads to emotional freedom.  This acceptance allows us to have compassion for ourselves and others, rather than self-pity and anger.  It releases us from the quest for perfection, and opens our heart so that we stop taking ourselves -- and others -- so seriously.

Take a breath

The next time you notice yourself getting upset about how you feel, take a moment to accept that feeling, just as it is.  Take a breath, and ask yourself, "What is this?"  The answer may surprise you.  And if you are having a lot of trouble with this, seek out a good therapist.  What I describe above is one of the central goals of good therapy.