Memories Do Not Have to Equal Suffering

Posted on by stilllearning2b
suffering

I met a recent divorcee the other night. I could feel her suffering behind the memories as she recounted the story of her marriage and its demise. The memories were weighted down with the pain relived in the moments or the anguish at the eventual outcome. The memories themselves were like a minefield, one deviation and you’re faced with an explosion of pain.

I remember being that same way. Every memory was laced with suffering. Every image brought with it the piercing pain as though the blow was freshly delivered. Every recalled fact opened the door to other memories, like dominoes made of lead, quickly burying me under their weight.

For a time, I thought that I would have to forcefully remove all memory of my former life. I wished for some type of amnesia pill to grant me a spotless mind. I saw memories and suffering as eternal bedfellows, forever linked together. After all, they are two things that others can never take from us – our memories and our suffering.

I can’t pinpoint an exact moment when my suffering divorced from my memories. There was no lightbulb moment, no flash of epiphany. Rather, I would sometimes startle with surprise when I realized that a memory came to me without its cruel partner.

I could remember without the pain.

I could see the past without feeling it.

I could allow a thought without it leading to another.

If your memories are entangled with suffering, try the following:

-Retell your story (writing is awesome for this!) until you feel some distance from it. Practice this. Make it matter-of-fact even when it doesn’t feel that way. Rewrite it as dryly as possible, removing the emotion. You’re training your brain how to perceive the pain.

-Pay attention to your physical symptoms when you remember certain facts. Does your stomach drop? Do your hands shake? Does your voice tighten? Focus on relaxing those physical symptoms. It’s often easier than directly addressing the mental pain and it sends the mind the message that it doesn’t need to suffer. (PTSD After Divorce)

-If you find that one thought leads to another and another, institute a distraction policy. You can choose to interrupt the pattern before it goes too far. Change the subject, move your body or switch gears. The more you allow a pattern to occur, the more easily your brain will follow the route in the future. Instead of letting your pain dictate the journey, try building your own road.

-Be selective in your memories. You have thousands to choose from; pick the ones that make you happy. Or select the ones that make you grateful for where you are now. Assign a purpose to a memory. Let it do its job and then file it or release it.

-See yourself as the one operating the slideshow of your life. You are the one that controls the images that appear. You can choose which slide to edit or remove.

-Reframe your memories. Edit out the painful parts. Pan out to see them as part of the larger picture. Zoom in on the smiles.

-And, as much as I hate the sentiment, time really does help heal wounds. In time, the memories will lose their sharp edges and the pain will soften. I promise. (Dulling the Knife’s Edge)

Memories are ghosts from the past. They may frighten, but they cannot really harm you. The suffering comes from within.

Ready. Set. Face.

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I have a friend whose young daughter narrowly escaped a tragedy this past summer. Around the time of the event, the mom could speak of it relatively matter-of-factly, with only the slightest tremble of the hands and tightening of voice belying the pain and fear beneath.

For the first few months, mom strayed strong. She distracted the child and went on about life. She held the trauma of the near-tragedy at arm’s length with only periodic glances that confirmed its existence. She was okay.

And then the child got sick. Nothing major, just a normal fall childhood illness, but it triggered the fear of losing her child in the mother.

She was facing what she couldn’t before.

The first time through, she didn’t know if her daughter would be okay. That was unfaceable at the time.

This time through, she knows that her child will be okay and so the pent-up emotions are released.

And now she can face them.

 

Often we begin to face things only when we feel safe.

Maslow talks about how basic physical and psychological needs must be met before self-actualization can occur. When faced with trauma, our basic needs of safety and security must be met before we can address , face-on, the emotions at the root of the pain. If you try to face it too soon, while your existence is still precarious, your mind will grip and refuse to let go. If you fail to face it, choosing to keep your gaze averted, it will become like a cancerous growth, slowing releasing its toxins.

Facing Trauma

Acknowledge that trauma is often too big to process all at once. Think of it like untying a knot, teasing away at it until it unravels completely. Be patient with yourself. It’s tempting to pretend to be healed because of the calendar. But the mind doesn’t understand time. Stay with it as long as it takes.

Recognize if you are turning away from the whole of the pain because it is too big to bear. Be gentle with yourself, Do not force it, yet do not ignore it either. Face it in time. Total lockdown is no way to live for long.

Look for ways to help increase your feelings of emotional safety or security. These must be met first. Look for tangibles that prove you are okay. Have a back-up plan. Find people that have your back.

Breathe. Pain has a way of shutting down the breath, as though the trauma whispers in with each inhale. Allow the breath to flow, releasing tension with each exhale.

Recognize that healing is a process, not a switch. It comes in waves, following the pain. Just because you do or not feel a certain way right now, does not mean you never will.

 

In the first couple months after my ex disappeared, I didn’t feel much. I was scared to open the dams, not sure if the impending emotions would be too powerful to bear. I was still in shock. trying to make sense of it all. And, I was trying to push it aside so that I could attend to the necessities of life.

But I knew I couldn’t do that forever.

I booked a short stay at a meditation and yoga retreat with the intention of opening the dam with the professionals there as flotation devices. I left all of the distractions (which I was so good at using) behind and steeled myself for the face-off: woman vs. trauma. Go.

It was pretty unimpressive. A few trickles of loss. Some tears. Some aching void.

But nothing on the scale I feared.

Because I wasn’t yet ready to face it. Again, trauma doesn’t speak calendar. It doesn’t respond well to scheduled appointments.

It likes to show up on its own time.

Even though I didn’t engage in an epic battle with my trauma at that time, the trip was valuable. I learned that I could let the pain in, that it wouldn’t flatten me. I learned that I could work away at it a little at a time. I learned that I couldn’t force healing on my terms. And I learned that my responsibility was to address the pain when it did arise (which was never at a convenient time).

It’s easy to see pain as a bad thing. But maybe it’s a sign of healing, an indication that you’re ready to address it.

Ready.

Set.

Face.

 

 

A Different Kind of November Challenge

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It’s November.

The leaves are falling. The turkey recipes are circulating. The mustaches are growing. And the internet is awash in NaNoWriMo and gratitude lists.

I love those lists. I enjoy reading how people are thankful for their families, their jobs and their health. I smile when I see their pictures of cooing babies or mischievous puppies. I appreciate the renewed energy that spills from accounting one’s blessings.

Those lists are beautiful.

Heart warming,

But I also think they’re a cop-out.

It’s easy to be thankful for the good things in your life. It’s easy to summon gratitude for the people and situations that bring us joy.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s valuable to take the time to enumerate those things you appreciate.

But it’s even more valuable to find reasons to be thankful for those things which bring us pain or grief or anger.

 

Which leads me to my November challenge.

It doesn’t require that you forsake your razor.

Nor must you write for 30 consecutive days.

You do not even have to share your results with your Facebook feed.

 

But it won’t be easy.

I call it radical gratitude.
Radical because it’s intense.
Difficult.
Almost unthinkable.
But also because it has the chance of being life changing.

Identify the one person or thing or situation in your life that has caused you the most grief. The most pain. The most anger.

Find that dark hole that bleeds you.

That curse.

Maybe it’s an ex. Or an abusive parent. Perhaps it’s your job or lack thereof. Possibly, you face an illness that has stripped your body or had an accident that stole your health in one fell swoop. Maybe it’s not the presence of a person, but the loss of one.

Whatever it is, identify it.

And then be grateful for it. Create a list of ten reasons that you are thankful for your biggest challenge.

You can share it – here or elsewhere – or you can keep it to yourself.

But write it. Believe in it. And then release it.

 

You cannot choose what happens to you, but you can always choose how you respond.

You have the power to turn your greatest challenge into your biggest blessings.

I took this challenge myself several months ago and listed ten reasons I am thankful for my ex.

Read it.

And then write your own.

 

wrapping paper

Value

Posted on by stilllearning2b

At my former school, we used to have two options for credit recovery for failing students.

The first ran two mornings a week for four months. There was a $50 fee for this option, an amount that was doable (especially with payment plans and scholarship options) for our low-income families, yet was also high enough to be significant.

The other option was summer school, four weeks of all-day classes in the heat of July. This choice was free.

For years, I taught under both programs. And, very early, a pattern began to emerge. Every year, the turn out for the few day or two of summer school would be tremendous – the classrooms barely able to contain the students. Yet every year, the numbers dropped exponentially until the class sizes were often in the single digits.

The morning program never started out with as many students (partly because the parents held out hope that their kid could still pull up his/her grade) yet every student that showed up on the first day stayed until the last.

There was another marked difference between the programs. In summer school, the students often acted as though they were biding their time. Many of them never asked a question, never completed an assignment and acted as if they were simply there to keep their desk company. In the morning program, however, the students wanted to learn. They brought in marked tests for clarification, they asked for help on homework and they worked hard even though the sun had yet to rise.

Frustrated during my third stint at summer school, I asked my administrator about this difference.

Her answer was simple.

“It’s the $50. They have buy-in.”

She went on to tell me that there used to be a fee for summer school and the shift in behavior only occurred once it was waved. She told me stories of morning kids on scholarship and how she learned the importance of charging every family something, even if it was only a few dollars. Once the family parted ways with their money, the program had value.

It was important to show up. It was important to try.

If we perceive that something has value, we appreciate it. We take care of it.

 

 

That lesson has stayed with me and I look for it in other areas.

Brock uses the idea of value to help him keep up with things. When he buys cheap sunglasses, they inevitably get lost or broken. But the pricier pair he purchased four years ago? Safe and snug in his car. They have value to him and so he takes care of them.

You can see it at play in those studies that pour cheap wine from expensive bottles while the more valued product spills from the bargain vessel. Every time, the tasters rate the wine based on the bottle. The labels speak of value, thus changing perception.

In my classes, I reward students for perfect scores on weekly quizzes. It’s not an easy goal to reach. When we have to work to achieve something, it is valuable and, perhaps more importantly, we believe we are worthy.

I see numerous examples every day of this economic principle in action – from Groupons to free Kindle downloads.

 

 

And then I look at my former marriage.

I loved him. I loved our marriage.

But I’m not sure I valued it.

I didn’t have to work for it. It was there.

I didn’t have to earn it. I credited luck rather than effort.

 

I believed it would always be there, whether I showed up every day or not.

I was filled with assumption more than appreciation.

It was easy.

Perhaps too easy.

 

 

I’ve learned from that mistake.

I’ve worked hard to get to where I am now.

I’ve paid dearly, in so many ways in the past few years.

I see the value.

And I appreciate it and take care of it every day.

I’m on the lifetime payment plan:)

 

 

Setting the Stage

Posted on by stilllearning2b

all the world's a stage

 

As part of my calculated not-so-risky risk that I am undertaking, I have to complete a self-paced online course. I signed up for the class over two weeks ago but only just started it yesterday.

This is a change for me.

Normally, I refer to myself as a reverse procrastinator – I get it done in a short period of time under immense pressure, but I do it at the beginning of the timeframe rather than the end.  Yeah, I was the weirdo kid who wanted to get her homework on Friday afternoon.

Adding to that, once I make a decision, I act upon it. Quickly. Very quickly.

So, combining those two traits along with my excitement about this new life trajectory, and I wanted to start the course as soon as I had signed up.

Which was at 7:30 pm on a Tuesday night, after a long day at work and less than two hours before I head to bed.

I could have started. There was nothing holding me back.

Except my understanding about how important it is to set the stage. A smooth beginning pays dividends throughout.

I started paying attention to this when I first started meditating. It was difficult for me to stay centered and avoid distractions. I soon learned that if I spent a few moments preparing the space by tidying up and perhaps lighting a candle or some incense, I was much more successful. The energy spent setting the stage was a transitional moment, a time for my monkey mind to receive the message at what was to come.

I found that the same idea carried forth into writing. Some days, I am consumed with words and they simply flow unencumbered. Other days, I have to be more strategic. Those are the times that I have to set the stage. I make sure that my glasses are off and my contacts in. I have coffee or tea or water close at hand. I ensure that disruptions will be minimal. In other words, I prime my mind for writing.

Setting the stage is important within relationships as well. John Gottman talks about the importance of avoiding harsh startups, finding a correlation between how a disagreement begins and how it will end. It’s not easy when you’re angry or frustrated to take the time to set the stage for a positive interaction. But those few moments of intention 9and holding your tongue) are perhaps as important (if not more so) than what actually needs to be said.

Setting the stage is a time for pause. It is a time to think about the outcome we want and how to limit the barriers to that end. It is a time of preparation for the real work and a time of transition for the mind. It’s a trade of between patience and consequence.

A well-set stage doesn’t guarantee a good show, but it certainly makes it more likely.

As for my internet course, I waited to start until yesterday morning when I was well-rested and could remove other distractions. I’m glad I did. I flew through 20% of it in just a couple hours with no stress and no pressure.

The stage has been set. A positive start to the course gives me a positive feeling about the whole endeavor.

And that’s worth waiting for.