 There’s so much going on out there in the world. And there’s so much going on inside my head, too. I wake up worrying about the world, my kids, my elderly dog, climate change, my job... The list is long. If worrying was an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist.
Worrying has negative consequences mentally, emotionally, and even physically. Your body doesn't know the difference between a made-up, all-in-your-head stressor and a real life, in-person one. In both types of situations, you get the same flood of the stress hormone cortisol throughout your body, which increases blood pressure and heart rate, creates a sense of hypervigilance, and produces other negative consequences. In the real-life stressor, you can calm down once the situation is over. When you’re a worrier, the stressor is you, and doesn’t go away. There’s no benefit for worrying. Intellectually, I know this. Running through the long list of possibilities of what might happen won’t help me to prepare for what does. A research study of college students found 91.4% of what participants worried about didn’t even come true. And, another helpful statistic: of all the worries that ended up coming true, research study participants admitted that more than 30% of those situations turned out better than expected. Excessive worrying is a burden I would rather not carry anymore. Here are small steps I’m starting this month to create change:
There’s admittedly a lot to be concerned about. As you maneuver through an ever-changing landscape, internally and externally, try to drive past the worry, like it’s a scruffy hitchhiker asking for a free ride. Instead, focus on mapping out where you want to go, how you want to get there, and how you can pay attention to every part of the journey. You can always create change without giving worry a place to sit. Hugs, Kathleen - - - - - - - - - - Photo credit: Photo by Jacqueline Munguía on Unsplash Research study: LaFreniere, Lucas S., and Michelle G. Newman. “Exposing Worry’s Deceit: Percentage of Untrue Worries in Generalized Anxiety Disorder Treatment.” Behavior Therapy 51, no. 3 (2019): 413–23. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.beth.2019.07.003.
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 When life gets hard and frustrating, when you’ve lost something important, or when you’ve simply lost your way, it’s easy and natural to focus on what’s not working. To look for ways to shift what’s wrong into something that feels comfortable and right. Sometimes though, we can get too good at over-fixing. For me, I’ll tenaciously research ideas and work on a problem until I find its solution, which means that I spend a lot of time looking at what’s wrong and exploring ways to turn what I don’t want into something I do. Living in the “life is a problem to be solved” space doesn’t make my life problem-free though. Instead, it makes everything a problem, creating a constant perspective that there’s always something wrong. There’s so much in life that’s unfixable. A decades-old mistake that can’t be undone. Harsh words that can’t be unspoken. A stubborn relative who won’t do what (I think) is best. All of that time and energy focused on what isn’t working keeps me from appreciating — and being present for — what's right here, right now. And almost all of the time, when I really pay attention, the present moment isn’t a problem at all. So what do you do if you find yourself in problem-solving mode when there might not really be a problem at hand? Here are a few ideas (and a lot of questions to ask yourself):
Every problem has a gift for you in its hands.
Richard Bach When devastation comes to someone else, or to an entire geographic region in the case of the wildfires in Southern California, it's not always clear what we should do. We can donate funds to organizations like the Los Angeles Fire Department Foundation, Pasadena Humane, or the American Red Cross. We can add items to a neighbor's long list of necessities that are being driven down to Los Angeles.
But it doesn't always feel like enough. And when the devastation is so great, whether you're watching someone sift through the rubble of what's left of their home, or standing by a friend at the funeral of their loved one, or helplessly watching another friend's marriage deconstruct, it can be hard to stay open to their grief because of what their loss cracks opens in us. And yet, that's the best thing you can do for them: stay open. You can listen, even when your heart is breaking because you're filled with memories of your own grief and loss. You can heal old wounds when you allow yourself to feel the emotions that you experience and then let go—at a time when you're separate from your grieving friend because you wouldn't want to overshadow their experience. You can offer to help with specific tasks, like taking their kids for a night or a long weekend so the parents get a respite, picking up items at the grocery store, taking their dog on the day that a vet is coming for the end of life care for their very ill cat. If you're far away, you can send a gift card for a meal delivery service and meet with them on a video call to make space for their difficult emotions. I have friends who have generously and easily offered to help when I've gone through hard times and my gratitude for them is immense. In December, my car up and died unexpectedly and these friends loaned me their car until I found a new one. They're the people who took care of Jasper, my rescue poodle, on the day when our cat, Traviesa, was ready to be put to sleep, so my family and I could focus our love and attention on our beloved cat. During a time when I needed a quiet sanctuary for a few days, my friends offered a place for me to stay. They always seem to know what to do and say to help. If you're not sure what to do or say when someone else is in crisis, you can use a helpful tool called Ring Theory, developed by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman. Here's how it works:
Once you have the rings filled in with names, understand that support—physical, emotional, spiritual—always goes inward, toward the person in the center. Permission to complain always goes outward. For the person in crisis in the center of the ring, all support goes to them and they can complain and grieve and be as messy as they need to be. For example, if someone is in a closer ring than you, with the Ring Theory, you wouldn't call them to discuss how hard this situation is for you, because complaints only go outward. Instead, you'd reach out to a friend who's in a more outer ring on the chart to work through your emotions. Following the Ring Theory can be helpful when you don't know what to say or do for someone in crisis. You'll probably worry that you'll say or do the wrong thing. You'll probably say or do the wrong thing anyway. If you're coming from a place of love, it matters more that you reach out, even when you're uncomfortable, even when it's hard, even when it hurts to stay open. "Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving." Elizabeth McCracken, author of The Hero of this Book.  [Reposted from thewellcraftedmom.com]
Last year, I met with a girlfriend, the lovely and wise Aubri Tallent. We ate a Covid-safe but chilly dinner outside in downtown San Mateo and spent way too much time talking about the company we both worked for—and left—in 2021. The last time I had seen Aubri was before my last day at my old job, where I was doing HR for a small company, and we had a lot to talk about. I had liked the work I was doing at my last job and loved nearly every single one of my co-workers, but the overall work culture had changed and was no longer a healthy one, sadly. While I talked with Aubri, I realized that despite working for a new company, one that's filled with lovely, supportive people, I was still holding on to resentment, disappointment, even anger over the loss of my last job. I had worked remotely in that position and I’m currently working remotely at my new job, so while my job has changed, my physical environment hasn’t. It feels odd to be staring at the same monitor, my hand on the same mouse, looking out the same window. To spiritually and energetically cleanse my home office, I’d been burning sage, a Native American practice to expel negativity. At dinner with Aubri, I talked about my incessant sage-ing and joked that I needed some kind of sage to clean my inner psychological landscape, too. My lingering negativity wasn’t funny, though. At odd times, I was drawn back into memories of psychologically unsafe meetings, the cycles of idealization-devaluation-rejection from a certain person, and how I'd be filled with dread when that name would light up on the Slack app, telling me there was a new message from her, waiting to be read. While cleaning up my office, I found notes I had written in a shaky hand, documenting one particularly bad meeting at my last job. I took the pages and a book of matches into the backyard and ritually burned the notes, sweeping the ashes into the dirt at the base of a tree. But even with the destruction of this “Horcrux," I didn’t feel better. I leaned into my spiritual practice—meditating, reading the Tarot cards I pull each morning, and listening to the wisdom of my therapist—and discovered something new: Forgiveness is the inner sage. Forgiveness is uplifting. Forgiveness blows away negativity. Like smoke from burning sage can clear the dark corners of a room, forgiveness can purify the mind, too. As Maya Angelou said: “It is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive.” Since then, forgiveness has been the focus on my spiritual work. Recently, I had a long phone call with another dear friend who's still at the company where I used to work. We talked for more than an hour, only mentioning the company once to express gratitude for the skills and experience I gained while working there. The dark corners of my mind aren't 100 percent cleared yet (memories still have the power to pull me in occasionally), but I feel so much freer. There's a sign that my husband Bill bought me that hangs in my so very well-saged office that says, "Only look back to be grateful." I'm getting there. Is there someone in your life who you’re ready to forgive? Someone you’re ready to disconnect from, both physically and emotionally? Ellie Grace’s guided forgiveness meditation on Insight Timer is a beautiful 25-minute journey to peace (and it's free, too!) Photo by Ginny Rose Stewart on Unsplash  A little while back, author Elizabeth Gilbert shared her mental health self care routine on Facebook. She wrote her morning begins with prayer and meditation and dancing and then maybe some yoga or therapy and then continues on with love and even more love throughout the day.
I was struck by the audacity of Liz's list. Her unapologetic recital of the tasks she takes daily for the care and feeding of her soul. And, after justifying why Liz can take care of herself in this marvelous way and why I'm unable to (she doesn't have kids, she has more money, she's a successful writer - all of which have everything to do with me and absolutely nothing to do with her), I asked myself what would I do if nothing stood in my way? What would I build into my schedule? How would I care for myself? My first thought was that I'd sleep longer into the morning. Immediately, a part of me countered, "But what about the dog that needs to go out and pee? And the hungry-hungry-hungry cat that starts crying at 5:45? And the teenagers, who are starting school in just a week and the older one has a zero period that starts at 6:45?" I wouldn't even let myself imagine a schedule in which I took even a little bit better care of myself. I realized what gets in the way is not the animals, kids, responsibilities, and obligations. What gets in the way is me. I'm the one who chooses what to expect from myself. I'm the one who fiddles with my inner tuning knob so I can clearly hear the voices that tell me that what I want is impossible and so far out of reach. As my kind friend/life coach buddy pointed out so gently to me the other day, I'm a pleasure denier. I'm a bully who doesn't allow myself to enjoy herself. The thing is, I don't need to do anything extra to allow more pleasure into my life. I don't need to schedule massages or book weekend getaways to the coast. Neither do you. We're always in the moment making choices of what we do and how we think and whether or not we give ourselves permission to take pleasure from what's right in front of us. Like smelling the eucaplyptus trees at Beresford Park while on my morning walk with Jasper. Or taking the time for little longer snuggle fest with Traviesa the cat. Or luxuriating in the sweetness of sliding under the covers and resting my head on my pillow after a very long day. Psychologist Rick Hanson says that our brains are wired to be Teflon for the positive and Velcro for the negative. It's called negativity bias and it's a natural – but now mostly unnecessary – protective perception of the world in which we automatically look for and remember the negative. It's a mindset that kept us safe when a rustling in the bushes could mean that we're at risk of being a predator's next meal. You can shift your mind to see the world from a more positive place with Rick Hanson's four-step process he calls HEAL: have a positive experience, enrich it, absorb it, and then take the optional link step, essentially overwriting a negative memory with a new, more powerful positive one. You can start right now, in this very moment. You can make choice after choice after choice (because building a new habit takes many tries) to firmly turn your inner tuning knob to a new station, switching from the negative playlist to a brand new one, listening instead to the curious, joyful, and eager voices within you. xoxo Kathleen Photo by Alex Blăjan on Unsplash  The cashiers at the grocery store always raise their eyebrows when they see my overflowing shopping cart. With two teenage boys, my family goes through a refrigerator and freezer full of food a week.
On Wednesday, the cashier asked the ages of my boys, now 17 and 14. She has two sons, too, ages 39 and 34. "Tell me it gets easier," I asked. I didn't think she heard me as she attended to another customer. As I began to walk away, she turned towards me and said, "It gets different." I spent my kids' infant and toddler years wishing for different. Less crying, fewer disagreements (between the boys and between my husband and me), more sleep, more of the quiet joy I felt watching my boys as they slept. I missed so much, wishing for different. Parenting is hard now. Again. In a different way than when the boys were little. I can't mom-handle my way to what I want. I have so little control of the outcome when it comes to my kids. And I spend so much time wishing for different. Hoping for easier. Crossing my fingers that there won't be an argument this evening, that I won't get pushback this time, that it won't be another complicated negotiation. Those quiet moments of joy are even more elusive. I've realized they're elusive because I've relied on my outside circumstances to infuse my inner feelings with joy. And my outside circumstances can't be controlled. They never could but, bless my heart, I carried the illusion that I wielded more power as Supermom than I actually did. I'm working on finding joy from the inside out these days. It's not easy to break the old habits of telling myself "I'm happy because everyone is getting along," "We had a good day because there wasn't an outburst." I've restarted meditating, a long, slow journey of inner change. I'm finding brief moments to practice Tai Chi. I'm working on acceptance of what is, the good and the bad, hard and easy, and everything else in between. "Peace doesn't require two people; it requires only one," writes Byron Katie, author of Loving What Is. "It has to be you. The problem begins and ends there." xo Kathleen The Well-Crafted Mom Photo by Hu Chen on Unsplash  I’ve been going through a rough patch lately and all of my tricks to pull me out of my funk aren’t working so well.
I feel like I’m doing everything right - walking three to five miles a day with Jasper the dog, eating well, meditating, and journaling - but I’m still having a hard time finding how to get my wheels back on track. I turned to the internet for more ideas to add to my feel-better-soon activity list and found many research studies extolling the virtues of a gratitude practice. Every lifestyle guru worth her salt has a video or blog post about using gratitude to generate more happiness, including Danielle LaPorte, Gabby Bernstein, Oprah... The list goes on and on. They say a regular practice of gratitude may improve physical and mental health, increase self-esteem, boost positive emotions like happiness, optimism, and enthusiasm, and can even reduce anxiety and improve sleep. Sounds great! Sign me up! So, after a long night of waking at 12.56, 2:33, 4:14, and 5:21, I stood in the shower under a stream of hot, hot water and said to myself, “I’m grateful for this shower.” Then, I started thinking of the times when I didn’t have hot water, like camping, and the Grand Canyon adventure in the RV with a shower that didn't work, and years ago, when the hot water heater in our home broke on the Friday before Memorial Day weekend and we couldn’t get anyone to come until Tuesday and then they needed to order a new heater and then something was wrong when they came to install it so it was 10 whole days before we had hot water again. Standing in the shower, I realized that when I practice gratitude, I always add in a “because” ... • I’m grateful for hot water because I've lived without it for 10 days. • I’m grateful for clean drinking water because there are people all over the world – even in this country – who can’t drink safe water straight from the tap. • I’m grateful for my life because it’s everything I ever wished for and I should be grateful and satisfied with what I have. I’ve been doing gratitude all wrong. It's like adding in the “because” cancels out the gratitude. It’s the same way the word “but” works: • I love you but we’re not right for each other. • We’re proud of you but you need to be working harder to get that physics grade up. • I know you’re upset, sweetie, but I can’t pick you up right now. No one remembers what was said before the “but.” In the same way, your soul cancels out the gratitude, only listening to what follows the “because.” Instead of a wonderful mood booster, your gratitude practice becomes a shaming exercise. “I am grateful” becomes “I should be grateful” and you end up "should-ing" all over yourself. Instead of a nonstop flight to happiness, you’ve climbed aboard a slow train to disappointment, with frequent stops at resentment, unhappiness, and despair along the way. The next time you sit down to reflect on the tiny, taken-for-granted, or extraordinary things in your life for which you are thankful, try leaving out the buts, the comparisons, the shoulds, and supposed tos. Be in this moment. Be grateful, just because. Big hugs, Kathleen The Well-Crafted Mom  A lot of times, we assume that feeling bad is, well, bad. That being angry, lonely, sad, disappointed, resentful, and the link is something to be avoided.
So, when those feelings rise up, like when children test your patience or a friend lets you down, we try to sweep our negative emotions under the psychological rug. We try not to notice them and definitely not feel them. They're too big. Often too scary. Too much to handle. We say things like, "I shouldn't feel this way." "I'm making a big deal out of nothing." "I'm overreacting, as usual." But feelings that are pushed down and covered up don't go away. Like guests who have outstayed their welcome, they're loud, irritating, and in the way, affecting every bit of your daily routine. What would it be like to befriend your "bad" feelings? Maybe the feelings that get us riled up or battened down aren't bad at all. Maybe they're simply moody friends passing through. By sitting with our feelings and noticing that resentment is here or anger is definitely in the room, we acknowledge our emotions. When we take time to be present with what is - not by picking a fight with a loved one or complaining to a friend - simply by sitting with the discomfort, we can notice and name the feelings without a story: "I'm feeling sad," "I'm lonely," "I'm really mad right now." Then, like a friend sitting next to you on the couch, you can sweetly say, "Of course you're feeling sad." "It's fine to feel lonely." "Anger can be a sign that your boundaries are being crossed." Sometimes, it helps to be creative with our feelings. Artists, musicians, dancers, and other creative folk entwine emotions into their work, creating art that connects us all. You, too, can link your sorrow, fear, disappointment, even anger to your own art. Whether it's a scribbled entry in your journal, fingerpainting beside your toddler, or a freeform dance in your living room, you can use whatever art is available to be with what hurts, stand next to what disappoints, and put your arms around what doesn't feel good at all. Then, once you and your emotions have had a little chat - or enjoyed a soul-clearing dance party - you can let your feelings go. Acknowledged and accepted, your moody friend can find their way out the door and be on their way. And you can be at home with yourself again. Hugs, Kathleen  The holidays are coming - fast - and everyone has expectations of how the season is supposed to go.
What presents will be under the tree? Do you buy everything your child desires? Which set of grandparents will you disappoint with the holiday visiting schedule? How will you get your children to behave when they're up way, way, way past their bedtime - and not incur the rolled eyes and pursed lips from the relatives who obviously think you're not doing your best as a mom? There are heavy expectations resting on your shoulders. And even if you have help, the responsibility for putting the happy into the holidays is most likely mostly yours. But what if you're already exhausted? Already stretched thin? The expectations and responsibilities that fill your holiday season can take all the joy and fun out of it for you. Every autumn when my kids were little, I would dread what was coming: shopping, cooking, scheduling, baking, planning, managing, returning, wrapping, calming, scolding, reviewing, hedging, reality checking, standing in line, waiting in traffic, looking for parking... I didn't know how to manage myself or my time and so the holidays were a long string of obligations I didn't enjoy. I couldn't wait for January, and felt constantly guilty for not having a happy holiday season. It's different now. I figured out a plan that was a lot like fixing a string of holiday lights. Now the holiday season is a lot more sparkly for me - and my family, too. I narrowed it all down to a three-step process: 1. Find the bad bulb (What's dimming your happiness?) The first step making any kind of change is to notice what is and isn't working. Pay attention to the thoughts that careen around inside your head. Are you telling yourself stories that are making the everyday moments even harder? What are the obligations that you truly dread? Making a list is always helpful. Start with a prompt like "The things I really don't want to do" and see what ends up on your list. 2. Replace what isn't working (with new ideas, new self-coaching tools, or new choices to do nothing) What showed up on your list? Can you brainstorm ideas on how you can drop what you truly don't want to do? Or, can you make what you don't want to do better somehow, like going shopping with a friend? One of my girlfriends is overwhelmed with circumstances in her large extended family, so she's dropping the drama and celebrating the holidays in Mexico with just her spouse and children. A coaching client and her partner decided to shorten their holiday time with his parents to only three days instead of a whole week, spending the rest of their time on a ski trip with their kids. I'm working on ways to simplify gift-giving with my family which I hope will ease my stress significantly this season. Look at your "Don't Want to Do" list and see what you can do with dreaded tasks and obligations and either ditch the don't want to's or do something to make them better. 3. Shine, shine, shine Once you've replaced what's dimming your happiness, give yourself permission to enjoy the bits and pieces of the holidays you love: lighting the candles, the quiet of Christmas morning before everyone wakes up, the sweet smell of your home once the tree is up and decorated, your kids' sticky fingers and faces as they decorate holiday cookies. (Mom tip: give each kid a sheet pan with raised sides to contain the cookie decorating mess.) Shine the light on what's dimming your happiness and make your holiday season sparkle. xo Kathleen “The art of being helpful is behaving as if everything we do matters - because we never know which ones might." Gloria Steinem  It’s been a crazy week. Whether you spent Thursday live streaming the Senate hearings or not, there was no avoiding the drama unfolding in Washington D.C. For so many women I know, getting through the week felt like trying to stay upright in hurricane force winds. Me, too. The crazier the world feels, the more I want to hunker down and wait out the storm in the safety of my home with family, trusted friends, and my beloved pets. But that helps no one. And I want to help. I'm offering $30 off your massage or coaching session until election day. If you need nurturing and a place to relax, come find your sanctuary with me in a life coaching session or a massage (use coupon code SANCTUARY when scheduling for your $30 discount). Massage therapy appointments* are provided in San Mateo. Life coaching sessions** can be in-person at my home office, over the phone, or via video conference call, whichever you prefer “From what we get, we can make a living; what we give, however, makes a life." Arthur Ashe Schedule your session here. Use coupon code SANCTUARY to receive your $30 discount.
I hope to see you soon. Big hugs, Kathleen * My life coaching/massage therapy practice is women-centered. I work with men who are referred by friends or trusted clients. ** In my life coaching sessions, we focus on current issues and find ways to work through obstacles that are in the way of making a life you love. If you’re feeling the need to process through old hurts, you may need the help of an experienced therapist. You can do an online search to find one here: findapsychologist.org |
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April 2023
Kathleen
I'm a mother of two incredible boys, author of the books The Well-Crafted Mom and Signs of a Happy Baby, five-star pet and housesitter, animal communicator, and an intuitive coach, blending psychic and Tarot Card readings with life coaching tools. I like to blog about my adventures with my family and the life lessons I'm learning along the way. I hope you'll join me on this journey. CategoriesCheck out our past newsletters by clicking the link below.
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