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.

 

Emotionally Introverted

Posted on by stilllearning2b
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Me on a bike! Let’s just pretend that it’s not because the coast has a dearth of hills:)

Life is beginning to return to normal after my trip to San Antonio. My introverted nature is enjoying the solitude interspersed with connections that I get to savor during the summer. My trip to San Antonio was awesome but it also strains my somewhat reserved nature to always have people around.

Brock stayed behind in Atlanta for this trip. I’m not sure what it was, but I really missed him during my absence. The feeling was mutual. We’re both used to him being gone (generally for only a night or two) for business, but somehow it’s harder when I’m the one out of the house.

My mom and I on our sky swing:) The only thing missing was a dumbwaiter to bring us beverages!
My mom and I on our sky swing:) The only thing missing was a dumbwaiter to bring us beverages!

While I was gone and during my travels home, he expressed how much he missed me and was looking forward to having the pack back together. When he finally picked me up at the train station, I received a passionate hello from Tiger and a distracted peck from Brock.

My feelings were hurt, but luckily, we’ve been here before so I knew his pattern.

After I returned to a lukewarm greeting a couple years ago, I panicked. I read his seemingly uninterested welcome as a sign that he was not happy to see me. I thought he was pulling away because of some terrible reason.

I brought it up. We talked about it.

As he was struggling to help me understand his perspective, he used the term “emotionally introverted” to describe himself. He went on to explain that the feelings he had when we were reunited were overwhelming, flooding him. He had to retreat until he could become comfortable and then he would be ready to connect.

I got it. I know the way I can feel when I walk into a crowded room or I am surrounded by people for days at a time. I know those breaks I need from the stimulation so that I can reset and relax.

He wasn’t withdrawing because of an absence of emotion. He was pulling back because he felt too much emotion.

As an introvert, my behavior can be read as rude or antisocial when I am just overwhelmed and flooded.

As an emotional introvert, his behavior can be read as unloving or distancing when he is really just overwhelmed and flooded.

Even knowing this, it still stings a bit. It’s hard to to take it personally. I’m working on it.

In this instance, I didn’t say anything. I kept myself busy and gave him time. Within a few hours, I had the greeting I wanted – full kisses and a long, prone embrace. It was worth the wait.

It’s so easy to make assumptions about the reasons for someone’s actions. We see there behaviors through our own lenses. It’s worth taking the time to try to see through their eyes. You just may be surprised at what you see.

So now the two introverts – one socially and one emotionally – have both been reset and are happy to be back together as a family. At least until my next trip:)

My boys:)
My boys:)

 

Igniting the Conversation

Posted on by stilllearning2b

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Relationship trauma will do strange things to you. With my ex, I was never timid about initiating a conversation about a potentially difficult topic. I would even wake him up so that we could talk before I went off to work if I didn’t want to carry the burden and fear of the issue all day. Of course, it was easy to “talk” with him about difficult things; he would lay on the affection and soothe me with his words. Yeah, he sure knew how to rock me back to sleep.

Now, post divorce, my communication style has changed. I am more tentative; I tend to hold things in too long, rolling them around in my mind (and often letting them gain steam) before letting them out. Brock’s communication style has contributed to this tendency. He generally starts off by talking at, not with, and then settles into a place where he is receptive and able to listen. I’ve seen this enough to know to ignore the first minute or two, but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to take the plunge.

Enter the talking candles.

After one conversation that I initiated well after I should have, Brock came up with an idea. He pulled two candles – one white and one blue – from the living room and set them on a small table in the dining room.

“These are the talking candles,” he began. “When you need to talk about something, set the white candle on the kitchen island. I’ll do the same with the blue.” He demonstrated this as he talked.

“When we see the other’s candle, we must make that conversation a priority.”

It was brilliant.

We haven’t used the candles much, but they have certainly helped to change the communication dynamics between us for the better. By setting out the candle, it gives the sign that a conversation needs to happen. The other person then has notice and can approach with the right frame of mind. We are less likely to talk while one or both of us is still decompressing from the day and the start-up is much more gentle. I am more willing to be assertive and not as defensive. He is more likely to listen from the beginning and to be more empathetic.

When we are aware of patterns, we can begin to change them. And that is a conversation worth igniting.

 

How to Apply Labels

Posted on by stilllearning2b

As a teacher, I am quite familiar with the application of labels. Each summer, prior to ever meeting my new students, I study the rosters. Many of the names have associated labels next to them: ADHD, learning disability, autistic, ESOL, etc. These labels are helpful when these children are nothing more than a list of names. It is a starting point.

When I learn that hypothetical Johnny has ADHD, I use that information when I create my first seating chart. I know that he might be a good choice to run an errand to the front office or to help me hand out papers. I won’t be surprised at an off-topic outburst and I’ll have strategies at hand for how to handle one if it occurs. Before ever meeting Johnny, I can have an idea of some of his characteristics and I can plan ahead to meet his needs. However, it would be completely inappropriate for me to stop there. Johnny may have ADHD but he is not his label. As I get to know him, the label loses its importance. The diagnosis tells me nothing of Johnny’s strengths and weaknesses, his adaptive behaviors, his likes and dislikes or especially his personality.

A label should be an anchor, not a limitation.

Whenever I plan a lesson that introduces a new math concept, I start by anchoring the new material to prior knowledge. When I tell students that the new concept is like something they have seen before, it gives them a place to start. Then, as they learn the new material, they can adjust the expectations laid out by the early comparison.

Labels work that same way – they initiate expectations that should be tempered with experience.

When I tell you I am a teacher, you have a starting point for understanding me. You know that I’ve been to college. You can assume that I’m a people person. Maybe you think of a particular teacher in your past. Then, I tell you I grew up in the 1980s. Maybe that causes a revision of your earlier expectations or maybe it just allows you to flesh things out, as you make decisions about what music I may listen to or how I wear my hair. We can continue that process, with each label adding more information and more clarification. Eventually, you would know me and those labels would be inconsequential. Until you were trying to describe me to someone else, that is.

Labels can help us find understanding.

When I went through my divorce, I grasped at labels to describe my husband. I realized that he was not all of the things I thought he was. He was a stranger. So, like we all do when first getting to know someone, I turned to labels to try to develop a framework to anchor new understanding. My favorite designation for him was sociopath. It explained the callousness and extreme nature of the betrayal. It was a starting point. But not the end. As with all labels, some parts fit and others didn’t. As I worked to get to “know” him again, I revised my views, adding some terms and removing others, until the labels no longer mattered.

I use labels when I write about my story. I temper the word ‘divorce’ with ‘tsunami’ to capture the suddenness of my experience. I use the label ‘trauma’ to convey the overwhelming loss. I recently introduced the term ‘PTSD,’ not as a diagnosis, but as a framework to discuss the anxiety and flashbacks that permeated my existence. Those single words hold pages of information. It is a kind of shorthand – a broad strokes sketch of the entire story.

Labels are like Cliff Notes. We use them as shortcuts as we develop our own understanding or to help someone else develop theirs. Just like Cliff Notes, they are not the entire story, full of detail and nuance. If we stop at labels, we are limiting ourselves and others. We may be blinded by assumptions as we fill in the gaps in our knowledge automatically.

Don’t be afraid to use labels but also be careful not to apply them with superglue. They should be used to anchor understanding, not to limit understanding.

Therapy in the Writing Process

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Journaling has long been accepted as a useful tool in the therapeutic process. Traditional journaling can certainly provide benefits. It is a “safe” space to explore powerful feelings. It encourages reflection and honesty and can lead the writer to a better understanding of him or herself. I believe that journaling can be even more beneficial, specifically  after a traumatic event, when it is expanded to cover the entire writing process. Each step in the process helps to promote healing in a different way and the completion of all of the steps will help the writer to move forward from the trauma.

Pre-write: This is the time to purge all of the negative emotions. Do not censor yourself. Do not worry about sentence structure or grammar; simply let the words flow. This stage is wonderful for helping to cleanse the mind of all of the poisonous emotions that can damage self or others if bottled up or inappropriately expressed. Stay at this stage until the anger has lessened to the point where rationality has returned. Feel free to return to this stage as needed.

Rough Draft: After you have purged your mind of the initial anger and hurt, it is time to start making sense of your trauma. Craft your preliminary version, focusing on organizing your thoughts and ideas.This is the time to begin to make sense of your story. Examine cause and effect. Consider different perspectives. Blend the raw emotion from your pre-writing with rational thought born from time and distance.

Edit: Read your draft. Edit for spelling and grammar. Revise your sentences and paragraphs until they are succinct and powerful. Read your draft again. The editing process allows you to find distance from your story. Each time you read it, especially as your focus is on the mechanics rather than the content, you will find that you become slightly more removed from the pain.

Publish: Don’t worry, you don’t have to have an agent for this or even research self-publishing. Rather, share your story with at least one other person. By sharing your writing, you are showing that you own your story. It is yours to tell as you wish. This helps to take you out of a victim mode and casts you as the author of your life.

Pick up the pen and write the rest of your story.