Three Tricks to NOT Take it Personally

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Years ago, I was walking Tiger in the neighborhood when I had a rather unpleasant encounter. A woman was walking her two small dogs on the opposite side of the street. Her dogs, which couldn’t have been more than ten pounds apiece, pulled against their restraints, barking wildly, in a determined attempt to get to my hundred-pound pit bull. My dog, meanwhile, simply kept walking, maintaining his eyes on the street ahead.

“I can’t believe they allow pit bulls in this neighborhood,” the woman hissed towards me.

I was shaken that day. I kept wondering what this woman had against me or my well-behaved dog. I put it aside, but her words continued to resonate whenever I had Tiger out in public (which was often).

Just recently, I was walking Kazh, our new, smaller pit bull who is learning to be as well-behaved, when I again encountered this woman. This time, her small dogs were unleashed in her front yard and one sprinted towards Kazh, barking all the while. “Oh boy,” I thought. “Here we go.” I readied myself for Kazh’s response to the encroaching potential threat and the woman’s response to yet another pit bull allowed in the neighborhood.

Kazh sniffed curiously at the small, loud dog and immediately demonstrated that he simply wanted to continue his walk. I used him to attract the loose dog back to its yard, where the woman was able to scoop him up.

“What a beautiful dog,” she exclaimed, reaching down to pet Kazh.

As we talked, I learned that her adult daughter had once rescued a pit bull that she then surrendered to her parents. They tried, but were unable to train and integrate the dog into their home and finally had to make the difficult decision of finding it a new home.

During that conversation, I realized that when the woman had made the anti-pit bull comment, she was still dealing with the frustration and feelings of failure she experienced with her daughter’s dog.

Her comment had nothing at all to do with me, with Tiger or really even about pit bulls.

Her response was entirely borne from her own pain and defeat.

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I know better. Yet I do it anyways.

When my husband is short-tempered, my first inclination is that I did something to cause his frustration.

When a student grumbles about something, I examine my lesson for reasons for the poor attitude.

When an internet stranger sends me a message informing me that my message is awful, I begin to question all of the work that I have done.

And when my first husband decided to abandon me in favor of another wife, I fixated on how he could do that to me.

In every case, I’m making the same cognitive error. I’m assigning causation where there is only correlation.

Inevitably, I discover that my husband had a rough day at work. I remember that I teach teenagers and they are contractually obligated not to express pleasure in anything their parents or teachers do for them. I recognize that people who read my writing or watch my videos are usually in great pain and sometimes they lash out at whoever is available. And I remind myself that my ex husband is a scum bucket (and also was experiencing his own crisis).

 

The reality is that somebody’s action or response always says more about them than it does about you.

 

When you take things personally, it muddies the emotional waters, stirring up the intensity of the feelings and making it difficult to proceed calmly and rationally.

The following are three easy tricks to help you remember to not take things personally:

 

1 – If it wasn’t you, would it still have happened anyway?

Maybe you’re struggling trying to come to terms with how your spouse could have cheated on you. Or you’re trying to calm down after a particularly nasty customer or client went off on you. Perhaps your ex flaked on picking up the kids. Again.

Take yourself out of the equation for a bit. If it wasn’t you, would it still have happened anyway?

This is a powerful question that can help you distinguish between those things that you have some agency over and those things that are truly somebody else’s problem.

If you realize that it would have happened in the same way without you, then it’s really not about you at all and it gives you permission to let it go. If you discover that you have a role in the situation, then you also have some power over changing it.

 

2 – Why else could they have been motivated to undertake this action?

Part of the reason that we have a tendency to take things personally is that it’s an easy conclusion to reach. It’s neat. It’s tidy. It’s direct.

And yet that doesn’t make it true.

It’s amazing how much of our responses are tied to assumptions born of past experiences rather than the present reality. Before you conclude that this was because of you, examine some other potential causes for the action or reaction.

Remember too that life is rarely black or white, either or. Just because a part of this may be yours to own, it doesn’t mean that you’re responsible for the entire package.

 

3 – Can you avoid receiving negative responses?

Take a moment and think of someone you greatly admire or a book or movie or restaurant that you absolutely love. Then, go to an online review site and look to see how many one-star reviews this person, production or place has received.

I bet there is no shortage.

It’s a potent reminder that nobody and nothing is right for everyone and that even the best are sometimes told that they’re awful. And that everybody is always viewing the world through their own lens, clouded by their own experiences and beliefs.

 

Taking things too personally is both a selfish and a self-sacrificing act. It implies that you’re the center of the action and also makes you responsible for the well-being of those around you. It leads to unnecessary pain and frustration and distracts from root causes and possible solutions.

It’s important to remember that you’re not always the intended target. Sometimes you’re just collateral damage.

 

Related: Just Because it Happened to You, Does Not Mean it Happened Because of You

 

 

I Am…

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I Am…

Before you read any further, please pause for just a moment and allow your mind to complete that thought. Make a note of the word that rises to the surface.

_________________________________________

 

In a recent yoga class, the instructor asked for us to silently completely the sentence, “I am…”

The first word to come to my mind was,

 

I Am Capable

 

Quickly followed by the more critical thought, “Great, so I’m the Toyota Camry of people – dependable, responsible and dull.” And then I remembered that the Camry has been on the most-stolen lists for many years. So apparently there’s at least something desirable about them:)

As the class progressed, people were asked to share their words:

 

I Am Strong

I Am Present

I Am Beautiful

I Am a Child of God

I Am a Mother

I Am Powerful

I Am Sweaty

 

I wondered if those were the first words to come to their minds, or the ones they settled on when they realized that they would be asked to share. I know for me, there are days when my impulse would be to fill in the blank with –

 

tired

lonely

overwhelmed

sad

frustrated

 

I then thought of the power that whatever follows those two little words holds. Saying “I AM strong” is much more potent than uttering “I feel strong.” Stating “I AM sad” is so much more intense and influential than “I feel sad.”

I AM speaks to the soul of you. It says that whatever follows is so important, so vital to who you are, that it cannot be separated from you.

 

Be mindful with the words you choose to follow “I AM…”

 

Are these words kind or critical?

Do they describe a permanent part of your character or do they reflect something that is temporary?

Do they illustrate something that you believe about yourself or are they repeated the words that others have said about you?

Let the best of you, the heart of you, follow “I AM.”

Say it.

Share it.

Believe it.

I AM…

 

 

 

 

 

What You Gain From Sitting in the Fire

Posted on by stilllearning2b
sitting in the fire

My alarm trills. It’s a cruel imitation of a bird’s chirp welcoming a new day. Except it’s too early for the birds. Or for most humans, for that matter.

But still I get up. Just as I have most every morning for the past four months.

Not because I really want to.

But because I know that the benefits are worth the temporary discomfort.

After I swallowed the first mug of coffee, I strapped the pup into his weighted pack in preparation for our morning power walk, the reason for the early start. Like me, he’s groggy, yawning and stretching as I try to secure the clasps of the pack on his undulating body.

Our first few steps are a bit creaky as we shake off the remnants of sleep. But by the time we exit the cul-de-sac, we’ve hit our stride.

Even as I dread the shortened nights of sleep and the often-unfavorable weather, I’ve come to enjoy our morning exercise. This morning, we got to gaze at the full moon for much of the course. Other times, we get to see the neighborhood fox on a pre-dawn hunt or the deer grazing in someone’s yard until we surprise them with our arrival.

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The local fox in the daytime.
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The full moon in the pre-dawn hours this morning.

 

I listen to podcasts over our hour-long trek, but it’s mostly a time for me to think. Which at this time of the year, often means that I’m reflecting back on how the school year has gone, considering the lessons I’ve learned and the adjustments I want to make for next year.

Much of my consideration is directed towards my 6th graders, because in many ways, they have the biggest challenge and growth potential over the year. I think about the ones who’ve made it, who successfully navigated the unfamiliar trial of accelerated math. And I think about those that didn’t quite make the cut.

All of these kids have to demonstrate the ability just to be accepted into my class in the fall. So why are some able to overcome the challenge and others never quite find their stride?

As I turn a corner, I catch a whiff of a fire pit that must have hosted a fire the night before. I smile as I think back to a recent yoga class. Although I certainly wasn’t smiling during the class.

The instructor apparently had some sort of vendetta against quadriceps that day, as we seemed to spend the majority of the 75-minute class in some sort of squat or lunge posture.

“Stay with it,” the teacher said, “You grow by sitting in the fire.”

And that’s the answer, isn’t it? The reason that some students make it and others don’t. The reason that some people return to hot yoga even with the anticipation of difficulty and others vow to never return.

The reason that some people make progress in their lives while others make excuses.

It always amazes me how often people who are looking for advice on how to get into shape, how to rejuvenate their finances, how to navigate a relationship or how to organize their homes know what they should be doing.

They don’t struggle with the know-how.

They falter when it comes to sitting in the fire. To do what they know needs to be done, even when the doing pretty much sucks.

 

Sitting in the fire is…

The discipline to exchange temporary discomfort for some future benefit.

The commitment to staying on the path you want for yourself even when the terrain becomes difficult.

The courage to tackle something that may lead to failure.

The faith that the pain isn’t as bad as it feels and that it won’t last forever.

The gratitude that you’ve been given this opportunity to test yourself.

And, at least for me on my morning walks, it’s the knowledge that there’s another mug of coffee waiting for me when I get home.

 

When I left that difficult yoga class the other day, I immediately decided that the efforts were worth it. I was proud in my determination to persist even when child’s pose was calling to me. I felt energized by my perseverance and calmed because my inner critical voice had nothing to criticize.

My students are voicing similar sentiments as they look back at their year. They share how hard it’s been. Remember those moments where they wanted to give up and return to the safety and ease of an easier class. And then satisfaction and self-respect creeps into their countenance as they recount those periods of intense effort and the gains that were made from the achievements.

Kazh the pup has been able to celebrate as well. We’ve put him through the proverbial fire these past few months. We have high expectations for training and behavior and we’ve put lots of time and effort into teaching him how to be in our pack.

And it’s paid off. His first big even, a March of Dimes charity walk for babies, was this past Saturday. Here he is walking a trail filled with people, dogs and strollers without his leash. And he did awesome. It was amazing to watch his face as he settled into the day and into the expected behavior. He was confident. He was proud. He was accustomed to challenge and so he didn’t let it phase him.

 

 

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I love how he’s looking at his Daddy to make sure he’s doing the right thing:)

 

When you sit in the fire…

You feel at peace with yourself because your values and actions are in alignment.

You gain confidence in your ability to overcome and persevere.

You become stronger with every fire you endure.

You feel honor for keeping your promise to yourself.

And you feel empowered by your ability to make it through.

 

When I finally pulled out of the driveway this morning to go to work, I was a little more tired than I would have been if I had spent that extra hour sleeping. But I was happier that I didn’t simply hit the snooze button.

Because although I have regretted making excuses, I have never once regretted sitting in the fire.

 

Five Qualities You Gain From Struggle

Posted on by stilllearning2b
struggle

When I checked my Twitter feed the other day, I saw that something called the “Barkley Marathon” was trending.

I was instantly curious. After all, I’d never heard of this particular run (even though I’m a runner) and there didn’t seem to be any terrorist activity associated with the race (thank goodness). So why was this obscure race dominating Twitter that on that day?

I had to find out.

One of the Tweets linked to an article that briefly described the race. The second sentence? “Only 15 runners have finished the race in its 32-year history.”

Wow. It was immediately obvious that this race was something special.

It turns out that “marathon” is a misnomer. Because this race is more than one hundred miles – that’s basically four marathons. And it has to be completed in under 60 consecutive hours.

But that’s not all. Just to add to the “fun,” this run is completed on an unmarked, unlit course without any aide stations or lighting (with only 60 hours to complete the course, they have to run through the night). And it’s not just the one hundred miles of horizontal distance these runners have to contend with, they also have to deal with a total of over eleven miles of elevation change over the entirety of the course!

And yet, people still sign up.

So of course, I had to watch the documentary about the race later that evening. I was captivated (and supremely humbled). One of my favorite moments came in a brief clip of an interview with one of the runners –

“I think we all could do with a little more pain in our lives,” he stated after describing what led him to ultra marathons.

And I think in many ways, he’s right.

Not that we should all sign up to run for two-and-a-half days through the untamed Tennessee wilderness, but that we all have capabilities and reserves that are left untapped. That we all are capable of so much more than we believe.

And that we all can gain from struggle.

 

Because when you struggle, you gain…

 

Confidence

The only way to build your belief in yourself is to take on challenges where there is a very real chance of failure. Your confidence soars  you face something that you fear and you somehow manage to summon the bravery needed to take that leap of faith. It matters less how well you do against the struggle; the self-assurance comes from meeting  it head-on.

 

Appreciation

One of the more frustrating parts of teaching suburban middle schoolers is that they rarely understand how good they have it. It’s not their fault – they haven’t seen how bad it can be, so they haven’t gained an appreciation for what they have. There’s a reason that the first sip of a cold beverage is more satisfying after hard labor. When we have to slog through the hard times, we become grateful for even the smallest things.

 

Perspective

We have a tendency to set up residence within our own heads. We often lose sight of what really matters and become fixated on the never-ending (and often frustrating) details of daily life. During times of crisis, we drop those details out of necessity and we often elect to leave some of them behind once we realize that they are not as important as we once believed.

 

Peace

When things are too easy, our brains have a tendency to invent things for us to worry about. For many of us, we worry more about what might happen than what actually is happening. Once we’re in the thick of it, the only option is to focus the efforts on getting through. Struggle acts to prune the mind of superfluous concern as we enter a state of focused intention.

 

Joy

It seems counterintuitive that struggle can make us happy. After all, in the midst of the pain and effort, we are often miserable and dispirited. Yet those very times that almost destroy us are the very ones that allow us to find and recognize life’s greatest delights. In struggle, we learn to believe in ourselves and to put our trust in others. Boundaries are bulldozed and bonds are built. We smile when we’re happy and we smile even more when we’ve fought mightily for that happiness.

 

One of my 6th grade students already understand the value of struggle. On a recent survey about accelerated math, she wrote the following:

“The challenge, risks and excitement I get in this class is what makes me want to go to school. The satisfaction I get from doing something right in math is one I want to keep forever. Sure, I don’t always get the BEST grades in math, but that doesn’t discourage me. You’re supposed to get confused, frustrated and struggle because that’s what math is all about. I feel as though this class is preparing me for the obstacles I’ll face later on throughout the years.”

 

Embrace the struggle.

 

Struggle is both life’s training ground and its proving ground.

Challenges teach us and they put us to the test.

Hard times shape us and reveal who we are.

So embrace the struggle. It will make you better.

Even if you never run a Barkley.

 

 

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Posted on by stilllearning2b
mistaken identity

My car turned yellow while I was at work today.

As did the car next to it.

And the one next to that.

In fact, the entire parking lot looked like it had been handled by the grubby fingers of a kid after eating off-brand Cheetos.

And all because trees are not subject to public indecency laws.

My body has decided that tree pollen is as threatening as a hostile missile attack. No matter how much I try to talk my immune system out of responding at a code red threat level, I’m summarily ignored as the defenses are rallied.

My students laugh as my “sneezures” interrupt class several times an hour. My husband grumbles as I cough and wheeze in my sleep. And even my dog looks at me funny when my voice suddenly sounds like that of a seventy-year-old chain smoker.

And all because of a case of mistaken identity.

The pollen, as much as I like to curse it, isn’t really my problem.

My problem is in my reaction to the pollen.

My misery is rooted in my body’s inability to distinguish between a perceived threat and an actual one.

Geez, that sure sounds familiar.

My brain has been known to have the same problem.

When I think back on the times my mind has perceived a threat in my now-marriage, I can recognize that it was assuming a full-on attack and preparing for assault when the reality was as harmless as some yellow dust on the windshield.

A case of mistaken identity.

And my problem wasn’t really what my husband did or didn’t do, said or didn’t say.

It was in my (over)reaction to the situation because of a misidentification.

One of the possible approaches to treat allergies is to submit to a series of shots where you’re repeatedly exposed to a small amount of the offending substance. The science isn’t fully known, but it’s suspected that the process helps to “teach” the body that the allergen doesn’t actually mean any harm and there’s no reason to prepare for battle when its presence is detected. The shots often work, although relief frequently takes longer than expected.

That’s sounding familiar again.

Over the past few years, I have had many opportunities to face small iterations of my fears of abandonment and betrayal. At first, my reactions were extreme. But over time (and yes, far more time than I expected), I learned that often what I perceived as a threat was closer to the level of a messy irritant. 

And now that I fall victim to mistaken identity far less often, I have found relief.

As long as I avoid the procreating trees.

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