Sensitivity Training

Posted on by stilllearning2b

The room was well over 100°. The humidity inside rivaled an Amazonian rain forest and the sweat dripping off our bodies onto the tiled floor evoked the sounds of the rain falling to the forest floor.

“Again,” said the instructor, not quite yelling but also not leaving any room for dissent. We followed his orders, grunts of effort carried forth on steamy breath.

Guiding us to a seated a position, arms and legs held out at 45° angles. “What, you didn’t think I forgot about core, did you?” he offered in a jovial tone. “Besides, this is sensitivity training.”

We must have looked perplexed because as we entered a grueling routine of lowering alternating heels down to the floor, he explained.

“When I was in the army, ordering the men to change their socks on a long hike was sensitivity training. Demanding that they run one more mile was sensativity training. Making them do 5 more minutes of PT was sensitivity training. Requiring them to finish their meal was sensitivity training. Because out in the field, those things could make the difference that allowed them to come back alive.”

“So this is your sensitivity training. Your one hour in here where you practice how to handle discomfort, how to come back to the breath when you’re panicking and how to find the calm within the storm. So that when you go back out there, you’ll survive.”

My grimmace turned into a smile of appreciation. Even though it’s often nicer to be taught in the quiet nurturing ways of a preschool teacher, life often has other ideas. And it’s good to be prepared.

Twenty Tiny Tweaks to Help You Through Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

For those days when the big changes feel overwhelming and yet you’re still wanting to feel better –

Here are twenty small and easy things you can do to help make your life through divorce just a little bit easier.

Staying With the The Devil You Know

Posted on by stilllearning2b
devil you know

Is it better to stay with the devil you know?

The Monty Hall problem is a famous puzzle in mathematics. In this dilemma, a contestant on a gameshow is attempting to correctly choose the one door out of of three that hides a prize. The contestant selects door and does not open it. The host then opens door three, revealing that there is no prize. The player is then given the option to stick with their initial choice or switch to the second door.

Most people intuitively feel that remaining with the initial choice of door one is advantageous or that the contestant now has an equal chance with either door one or two. Mathematically, however, the player has a better opportunity of winning (67% chance) if they change their selection.

When this solution was first published, the outcry was enormous, well beyond what would be expected for a math-related article. So why were people so resistant to the idea of letting go and taking their chances on something new?

Once people make a decision or arrive at a solution, they take on a sense of ownership of that idea. And once they possess it, they become wary of letting it go. In a sense, releasing the choice becomes a loss. And we often act to avoid loss.

The first choice for the contestant is knee-jerk. At that point, all of the doors have an equal chance of containing the prize. But once the second choice is offered, the situation has changed. Inaction is tempting both because it needs no overcoming of inertia and accepting a loss due to a failure to act is easier than accepting a loss that arises directly from an action.

And then of course, there’s ego that has a difficult time admitting that maybe the first choice wasn’t the right pick after all.

And all of this simply to avoid leaving behind a door that may not even contain a prize.

We face a version of this dilemma in life. Except then, we know what is behind the door. And yet sometimes we struggle to choose another option even when we know that what lies behind the door we picked is certainly no prize.

I think we’ve all chosen the devil we know at times. Maybe you stayed in a job too long that wasn’t a good fit. Perhaps you tolerated an abusive situation after the pattern became clear. Or possibly you have clung to a self-narrative long past its expiration date.

We justify our decision to stay with the status quo –

“At least I know what to expect.”

“I know how to navigate this situation and I don’t now how to do the other.”

“Maybe this is the best I can do.”

“I still have hope that this situation can change.”

It;s scary to leave what you know. It’s hard to admit that maybe your first choice wasn’t such a good one. It’s so hard to let go of one selection when you don’t yet know where the other will lead.

But if you know that the door you chose isn’t right for you, maybe it’s time to select another. After all, that one might just hide the prize you’ve been looking for.

5 Vows to Make With Yourself After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I WILL find a way to see the good in this situation.

I will NOT let this experience define me.

I refuse to let my ex take my future away from me.

I will NOT allow one person to determine my worth.

I have not come this far to only come this far.

When the Problem We Think We Have Isn’t the Problem We Have

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It moved in a few days after I returned from my trip. This particular knot of muscle likes to curl up under my scapula like a kitten under a sofa. It’s my fault – I invite it in with an office chair (one of the few remnants from my former life) mismatched to my desk and too many hours spent typing and squinting at a tiny screen.

So when I found a Groupon that offered a superior price for a customized massage, I jumped at the opportunity. I didn’t even have to mention the spot on my back, the therapist immediately reached out to it through my shirt when examining my posture while I stood in the room.

“That’s my little friend, ” I explained, “But he’s overstayed his welcome this time. Can you help convince him to leave?”

Soon, the massage started on my back. The knot started to loosen, but slowly. And then the therapist slid his hands under the front of my shoulders and along the attachment of the pectoral muscles.

“Ahh,” he said, “Your back is not the problem after all. It’s actually right here. These muscles are too tight and are pulling you forward.”

And sure enough, as he coaxed those muscles to loosen, the knot slowly started to stretch and slide away.

The problem we have is often not the problem we think we have. And you can’t properly address it until you’ve correctly identified it.