You Up For Something New?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

That was the text that came to my phone at 3:30 this afternoon. Of course, there’s only one appropriate response:

“Sure.”

The text came from a friend of mine that I frequently refer to as my “sprinting buddy.” We first met at the gym a couple of years ago. He was in the early stages of trying to regain his fitness after a knee surgery that ended with a staph infection and landed him in the hospital. When we met, he had been cleared by the physical therapist to lift weights again but his leg was still weak and shaky. I admired his spirit from our first meeting. He wasn’t moaning about the years he lost fighting for his leg. He didn’t complain about the loss of fitness he once had. Instead, he talked about his dream to play tennis again and, even more, to sprint again.

Our casual gym discussion eventually turned into a weekly “leg day” workout. I delighted in coming up with exercises that would challenge him and his strengthening leg. He never complained (only would text me the next day to let me know if his legs were sore or not). Although, I did sense a wary look when I pulled out the Bosu Ball or the kettlebell:)  We did squats and lunges. We balanced and jumped. And his leg grew stronger while we shared giggles over the customs associated with our mutual Norwegian roots.

Throughout that time, he still dreamed of sprinting, something he enjoyed and excelled at in high school when he was on the track team. His first tries that year fell flat. He just wasn’t ready.

At the end of that school year, I switched jobs and gyms. We lost touch for a few months. Then, I got a text asking if I wanted to meet up to run sprints. I was thrilled. We met at a nearby park where I watched as he wrapped his knee in a couple of layers of protective gear and jogged a couple of test laps. The mind was ready to run, but the body still needed convincing.

The look on his face while running that day was amazing as he ran the dream that had kept him going through the ordeal with his knee. The joy was contagious. I found myself pushing myself harder and having more fun than I ever had before while sprinting.

We continue to meet up to run sprints whenever we can. He has since well surpassed me (I think there may be some cheetah mixed in with that Scandinavian blood). Every time we run, it leaves me feeling so refreshed and relaxed, even through the wheezes as I struggle for air.

The parallels between our recoveries these past couple years have been interesting. He was cleared by his physical therapist about the same time I was cleared by my psychiatrist. We were no longer “sick” yet we had quite a ways to go before we were fully operational at the levels we were accustomed to. We both tried to push the healing process along on our own timelines only to be reminded that it wasn’t within our control. And finally, we both came through the other side stronger and more grateful than ever before.

So, what was with the something different? Normally, we run 100 yard sprints. He had worked his way to 200 yarders while I was training and recovering from the marathon (sneaky!). Today was my first stab at them. And, I gotta say, they were pretty awesome.

I love the feeling of running while giving 100%. I love the satisfied exhaustion I feel after sprinting. I love having friends in my life that are an inspiration. But most of all, I love to see people accomplish their goals and delight in the fruition of a dream.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish catching my breath:)

 

The Misuse of Affection

Posted on by stilllearning2b

 

Kissing Black-tailed Prairie Dogs (Cynomys lud...

 

I’ve written before about how much I have learned from Cesar Millan – not just about dogs, but about myself as well.

 

10 Life Lessons From the Dog Whisperer

 

One of Cesar’s common lessons has to do with affection. He cautions owners not to use affection when their dog is in an unstable mental state (usually anxiety, but also fear or aggression). He explains that by applying affection when the dog is unstable only seeks to reinforce that behavior. It’s completely logical, yet not always easy to do. When we see a distressed dog, our first instinct is to comfort it, to try to suppress its discomfort with love. That reaction backfires once the dog realizes that it can garner your loving attention by entering into an unstable place.

 

I’ve been thinking and writing quite a bit lately about my own unstable mental states (we all have a propensity towards one or more). For me, I struggle with becoming (and staying) anxious. I’ve worked on managing my anxiety most of my life and, other than the period after the divorce, it really has never interfered too much with my life. I’m not content with that; however, I want to try to figure out where it comes from and how it grew so that I can strive to venture into anxiety even less.

 

I realized that my ex played an unintentional role in nurturing my anxiety. He didn’t like to see me in distress. When I would get anxious, he would respond by becoming overly affectionate. He would soothe me with words and touch. It was great in the moment. But in the long run? Not so much.

 

It kept me from having to learn as an adult how to get myself out of that unstable state. But even worse, it rewarded anxiety with affection and loving attention.

 

Great. Just the association I want to have.

 

I never realized this connection while I was with him. Why would I? I had my needs met and my nerves soothed. It’s become clearer to me as I’ve gained distance and had to learn how to live first on my own and now with Brock. The first few times Brock didn’t immediately step in to pacify my fears, I was hurt. Upset. Even disgruntled. After all, I saw that as his role.

 

It’s not.

 

Slowly, I started to learn the difference between him being supportive when I truly needed it and enabling my disquieted mind. I had to discern the difference between affection coming from love and affection coming from a discomfort with my mental state. I had to learn how to soothe myself. I guess I hadn’t quite mastered that one in infancy:)

 

Again, I take a lesson from Cesar. He dictates approaching a dog’s behaviors with “exercise, discipline and then affection.” Turns out that sequence works pretty well for this human too. When my mind spins into anxiety, I start by going to gym or heading out for a run. Discipline comes in the form of writing, yoga or meditation. Finally, I’m ready for affection, which at that point, serves to reinforce my calmer state of mind.

 

Cesar says we don’t get the dog we want; we get the dog we need. In my case, I think I got the man I needed too.

BrockTiger

 

 

Say Stress to the Dress

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I am a grown-ass woman. I have degrees. I’ve won awards. I can go on national television. I can do home repair. I’m generally pretty confident in myself and my appearance. So why is it that some 22-year-old working in a formal shop can make me feel about as insecure as a teenager in front of her first crush?

Okay, I’m getting ahead of myself.

The wedding is slated for October. It will be a very simple affair – a private outdoor ceremony in the Smoky Mountains followed by a dinner celebration at our favorite restaurant back in Atlanta. No pomp. No circumstance. No stress.

Well, other than the dress.

I’m not really particular about the “look” of the wedding, but it is important to Brock. Even though I still have several months, I wanted to try to find a dress today. Partly because I had a day off work but mostly to leave myself plenty of time in case it became more difficult than expected. I asked a friend to accompany me and to act as a guard against those scary 22-year-old dress sellers.

photo-208
Not the shoes I’m wearing but they’re good for a laugh:)

For my first wedding, I ventured into a Dillard’s alone and found a prom dress for $98. It had a satin bodice with some contoured seams and a long chiffon skirt. It was simple, elegant and cheap. It was perfect.

I wanted something similar again. It’s difficult with second weddings. I chose a ring, a dress and a wedding location the first time around that fit me. I don’t want to repeat that but those same aesthetics still appeal. My idea was to go to the mall and scour the racks of formal (non-wedding) dresses and hope for a similar find.

My friend suggested that a stand alone store that specialized in wedding attire first. She had been in there previously and remembered that they had some budget-friendly items.

I felt like I was walking in to some five-star hotel designed by Disney. There were glitter and rhinestones everywhere. The place was full of employees, dressed head to toe in black, scurrying around to attend to their charges. There were brides everywhere, most accompanied by their moms, choosing dresses and accessories. Everything was over the top and designed to make women feel like princesses. Along with the princess price tag. After talking with the consultant (I’m assuming that’s the proper term), we learned that their dresses started at $2,000.

Started. At. $2,000.

Who buys these things? After saying our “thank you’s,” we promptly left and got into my car (current value – not much more than $2,000).

After touring a few department stores at the mall, we knew we were on the right track. Our last stop? Dillard’s. And they came through again. Even in that more relaxed environment, I was still tense. Sometimes, I don’t understand myself. I’m completely fine trying on bikinis. No sweat. A formal dress? Yeah, that brings out all of the body insecurities. I feel silly in super feminine things with my athletic build and casual nature. It can be frustrating to have arms and shoulders that burst seams and to have trouble fitting my lats into a dress. Would it be out of place to get married in a bathing suit in the mountains in October? Yeah, that’s what I thought.

To complicate matters, I’m weird about spending money. Especially on myself. I feel guilty. Somehow I don’t feel like I’m worthy of spending money on. It’s frugality mixed with a dash of neurosis. I wish I could find a way to keep my thrifty ways but nix the guilt.

I only ended up trying on one dress. It’s formal but not bridal, which apparently is good for a 90% discount, as it was only $200. It’s simple and elegant and relatively cheap. But it’s different than before. It fits my frame, showing off my muscle in a flattering way and the sleeveless style gives my shoulders endless room to move. I can borrow jewelry from my friend and I should be able to find shoes once the weather warms up. Mission accomplished.

So now the dress is hanging in the closet waiting for its fall debut and my blood pressure is slowly returning to normal. I should be okay now as long as those 22-year-old dress consultants stay away:)

Taming the Monkey Mind: My Monkey’s Alive

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Monkey channel surfing

Do you ever have one of those days where you just feel a little more alive than usual? Everything just seems a little bit clearer. The breath a little lighter? The focus just a little clearer?

I’ve had one of those days today. It’s just a normal Saturday for me – writing, laundry, meditation, gym and a run, and the weekly trip to the grocery store. Usually, I pass through these activities with barely a thought. I get each one done to move on to the next. By the way, that mentality is the absolute anthesis of meditation. There’s a reason I call myself stilllearning2b:)

Today has been just a little bit different. Perhaps it’s related to the clear, sunny skies after being blanketed by rain for the past week. Maybe I’m feeling the freedom of a Monday off work. Or, possibly my mood was lifted by finally replacing my old, partially working headphones with a new, working pair. It turns out that music sounds much better when you can hear it in both ears. The difference between the old headphones, which haven’t worked right for over a year, and the new was so strong that I actually startled when I pushed “play.” I had grown so accustomed to the static and one-sided sound that the clarity coming through felt bigger than life.

That’s kind of how my whole day has felt. I feel like I’ve fully experienced each action today, from the run along the river to selecting apples at the store. I haven’t felt pressure to get it done or to rush on to the next thing. I haven’t grumbled about having to do chores or run errands.

When I started my meditation challenge, I looked at meditation as a separate part of my day. A time set aside to be mindful. I would get it done and then move on to the next item on the list. I’m finally starting to incorporate mindfulness in each moment, which of course is the ultimate goal.

I need to remember this feeling. I need to remember that monkey mind is alive, not just in those moments when I turn inward and focus on the breath, but all of the time. I need to remember that when I am fully present in each moment, I can find joy even in the mundane. I need to remember that I choose to feel rushed and that I can also choose to feel at peace. I also need to remember not to wait so long to replace my broken headphones next time!

Other adventures of my monkey mind:

Taking the Monkey to the Gym

Shaving the Monkey

My Monkey’s Flinging Poo

Experimenting on the Monkey

Embracing the Monkey

Lose Your Illusion

Posted on by stilllearning2b

(Any Guns ‘n Roses fans smiling at the title?)

Illusion
Illusion (Photo credit: Nikos D.)

Brock and I caught the second half of a show on Discovery last night about how easy it is to fool the brain. The first segment we saw had volunteers sitting at a table with their right arms hidden from sight behind a screen. A fake arm was then placed on the table in front of them. The researcher went through a few steps (I didn’t see the beginning, so I’m not sure what all this entailed) to make the participants connect with the fake arm. Then, the researcher slammed a hammer down on the plastic arm. Most of the volunteers jumped. Makes sense. Slam a hammer down in front of me and I’ll startle too. The interesting part, however, was that the majority of the participants claimed to feel pain in their fake hand. The brain was relying on the visual clues and was fooled into believing that the plastic substitute was indeed the real thing.

The brain’s fallibility goes well beyond parlor tricks. The brain is an expert at filling in the pieces, at seeing or hearing what it expects to see or hear and at creating a narrative to make sense of any input. We are not normally conscious of this effect; it happens quickly and automatically. In the case of the situations presented by the show, the illusions were inconsequential. It doesn’t really matter if your brain interprets wet rags on plywood as the sound of raining hamburgers in Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. I don’t think that misconception will impact your life one way or another. (I apologize if having this auditory trick revealed causes you any mental distress.)

That’s not always the case, however. When you take the brain’s innate tendencies to misinterpretation and to complete gaps with its own information and you add in all of the messy emotions of the human experience, you have a situation that can lead to trouble. We all live in a land of illusion to some extent. On a biological level, it is impossible to process every single piece of information that our senses are bombarded with every second. Our brain takes shortcuts. It makes sweeping generalizations. It has to. On an emotional level, we can try to be empathetic but we can never truly understand another’s perspective. We see the world through our own fallible filter.

The trouble comes when the illusions go too far. When we stubbornly act as though our fake-arm belief is the truth even when the screen hiding the reality is removed. It’s easy to believe our own narratives even when they are disproved. Manti Te’o held onto the belief that his girlfriend was real even though she never materialized in real life. Lance Armstrong refused to come clean about doping even when evidence to the contrary was produced. My ex husband failed to see his actions as wrong even when he was sitting in a jail cell.

To those of us on the outside, it seems so clear, so obvious. But that’s because it’s not our illusion. We are the bystanders who can see both the real arm behind the screen and the false one in front. It’s so difficult to see our own illusions. The mind puts up such strong defenses. It hates being wrong. Once it has decided on a narrative, it will work tirelessly to find and filter information that supports its conclusions.

My ex husband’s need to maintain the illusions was so strong that he attempted suicide soon after being released from jail. A couple of days later, he reached out to my mother via text. A brush with death had the effect of removing the screen for a brief period. One response of his really stands out:

I tried to create a world where I convinced myself that everything was somehow fine no matter how bad things looked. As crazy as it sounds I believed my own bullshit and just deluded myself into believing that everything could be ok.

Again, from the outside, it seems so clear. How could he believe that everything could be okay when he spent every penny he could find, lied to everyone around him and committed bigamy? It seems crazy. Yet there I was in my own illusion, believing that my husband was honest and loving. My mind also refused to see the truth behind the screen.

So, what do we do? Are we captive to these minds of ours that seem hell-bent on fabrication? Well, yes and no. It’s impossible not to fall sway to any illusions. Even by the end of show last night, I was still fooled by most of the tricks even though I knew they were there. We cannot stop our minds from filtering information selectively and reaching conclusions based on experience. What we can do is let go of the assumption that we are always correct. We can be open to the thought that maybe what we are experiencing isn’t reality. We can strive to see with our eyes rather than with our presumptions. And, we can summon the courage to remove the screen once we become aware of its existence. Just make sure you watch out for any hammers coming your way.