Part II: The Gold in the Shadow

As I said in my first piece about shadow, there's gold in there. It is precisely because of that gold that we must go mining in the caves of shadow. But let me explain how shadow develops in the first place.

At birth, each of us possesses a full range of human qualities. These qualities start out neutral. But as we grow, influential people in our lives (like parents, teachers, and peers) point out qualities they dislike, and label them "bad." In a desire to be loved and accepted we react. We take those "bad" qualities, and one by one, excise them from our personalities.

What do we do with those cut off parts of self? As Robert Bly says, we throw them into a "long bag." With unsightly aspects of ourselves safely tucked away, we go on, seemingly scrubbed clean of our bad traits. Problem is, we continue to lug that long shadow bag and all its contents around with us. The trash man never comes to cart it off to the dump.

Furthermore, each time we throw something into the bag, really good stuff goes too. Examples. You are four years old. Your mom is at the kitchen table having coffee with her friends. You keep interrupting. Later she punishes you for being rude. Out comes your shadow bag, and you toss in rudeness. Along with it goes some spontaneity.

You're in the fifth grade and your teacher scolds you for clowning around. You get angry and get sent to the principal's office. You open the bag, toss in anger, and along with it, some passion and humor.

To sum it up, by the time we hit age twenty, we've gone from being a full circle of possibilities to being just a sliver of our potential selves. We've dumbed ourselves down. We've learned to color within the lines of life.

As adults we have two choices. One is to deny that we've thrown anything into the bag (even deny the existence of the bag itself). Or we can go into the bag and retrieve the gold we've thrown away.

Most of us are afraid to stick our hand in that bag. We don't know what might bite us. It is truly an act of courage to do so. But the alternative is leaving great chunks of ourselves languishing in the dark. Even worse: what we deny about ourselves we inflict on others. (More on that next time.)

Meanwhile, consider what parts of you you might have thrown away, thinking they were bad. And rejoice. There's great beauty in the shadow.


copyright 2007 starfishdoc
(Thanks, JMR for the first photo.)

My Kind of Christmas

I don't make a big deal of Christmas, which may cause you to think I have a humbug problem. I don't. I'm just saddened to see how stressed folks get during holiday time. And for what?

I have abandoned all the empty rituals that have nothing to do with the spirit of Christmas. Shopping has been whittled down to a single present: a Secret Santa exchange we do as a family. I do not put up a Christmas tree or other decorations. D and I turn down most holiday party invitations.

This simplification of Christmas has been a process. There was a time when I did it all, including sending out hundreds of Christmas cards. It takes some getting used to, this counter culture adjustment. So I'm not recommending you go whole turkey, so to speak. But I'm convinced that you would be happier and calmer this Christmas if you dropped one or more of your usual holiday chores.

Thinking about all the things I don't do for Christmas, got me feeling like the Grinch on a bad day, until I noticed what I was doing when I had that thought. I was in the middle of making pizzelles. These little waffle cookies are an Italian tradition passed down to me from my grandmother. Even my mother, who was French Canadian, had to learn to make them to earn her stripes (make her bones?) in our family. I have been making them every year since I don't remember when. It's written in the DNA.

Pizzelles take all day to make. You can only cook them two or three at a time, depending on your waffle iron. It's an intense process, too. They take only a minute to cook. Without constant vigilance, they'll burn. Unlike baking a cake, you can't put them in the oven and walk away. Pizzelles are a labor of love.

So Sunday was designated pizzelle day. I started around 9am and finished at 6pm. The task spilled over to Monday morning, when I sprinkled on the powdered sugar and packaged them in cellophane and ribbon to give away to our friends over the next few weeks.

All this leads me to the conclusion that there are traditions that really matter to us. But there are probably many more things we get caught up in that we only do because we think it's expected. I suggest you try separating what really matters, from what doesn't and just do the former. For me, that's making pizzelles.

copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Shadow 101

I've just been reviewing a dog-eared copy of one of my favorite books. It is called Meeting the Shadow. If you're a follower of Carl Jung, you already know that "shadow" refers to the darker, often unconscious, and not very attractive parts of our personality that we try to keep hidden from ourselves and others.

Why would I want to reread a book on such a depressing topic? Well, because recently, I had some of my faults pointed out to me, so I thought I'd jump right in the game. Also, I know that taking a routine inventory of your shadow simply makes you a better human being. Best of all, when you do your own "shadow work" no one else has to do it for you.

Each personality is a complex mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly. There are parts of us we are proud of, and other parts that bring us buckets full of shame and guilt. We proudly display to the world the parts we are proud of, but hide the bad and the ugly. We try to disown those negative qualities as not part of us, but that's no more possible than it was for Dr. Jekyll regarding Mr. Hyde.

A client once told me, "I'm a really good person and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt someone." Meanwhile, he was carrying on an affair, destroying his marriage, hurting his children. Yet he believed, and wanted me to believe, that despite all evidence to the contrary, he was pure goodness.

We call that denial. He was denying that big chunk of ugliness that was clearly part of him. If he had been able to confront his shadow rather than deny it, he would have owned his actions, recognized them as the result of some dark desire or need, and taken steps to avoid repeating the same behavior. When we perpetuate the facade of wonderfulness, we're likely to do the same mean and rotten things again and again!

To be imperfect is human. If we accepted our imperfections instead of perpetuating the myth of pure goodness, we might take up shadow work with eagerness. Why eagerness? Because knowing yourself, all parts of yourself, helps you to live in the world with integrity and dignity. It is a blessing to all your relationships. When you are able to own the trouble you yourself cause, you no longer project it onto someone else.

Best of all, what lurks in the shadow is not all bad. Mixed in with those ugly parts are the more interesting, vibrant, gritty parts of our personalities. When we search the shadow, we mine for gold!

Next time: More on the gold in the shadow and how shadow reveals itself to you.

copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Thanksgiving? It was Mixed.

So how was my Thanksgiving, you ask.

It was really nice. The family was here. We reminisced about the past and tried to predict the future. The turkey was moist. I tried a new stuffing recipe that was a wild mix of ingredients, but it worked. Peace and harmony reigned.

That's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either.

I don't know about your family, but mine is no Norman Rockwell painting. We are a bunch of strong willed, and sometimes confused individuals, whose views about the present and recollections about the past don't always jibe. I'd be inclined to keep that family business to myself, but I know that my experience is not that different from yours. Families that epitomize the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving are either extremely rare and fortunate, or they are just a figment of our collective imagination. I'm inclined to believe the latter.

For most of us, the good parts of Thanksgiving were mixed with some degree suffering. I have friends who were sad and bewildered to be out of their usual element this Thanksgiving. Others were furious to be stuck in the same lousy rut as always. I heard many stories of loneliness from clients separated by miles, death, or conflict from the ones they love. Some had no one to share the holiday. Many wished there were no holiday at all.

I believe we create much of our own Thanksgiving disappointment through unrealistic expectations. We expect the day to be special, our family to be better than it is, and all our feelings to be positive. We forget that life is an ambiguous and complex mix.

Just as we create our own disappointment, we can create our own joy. Let's consider changing our thinking to reflect reality:

• Our families aren't perfect. Neither are we.
  
• We can't have perfect love in our hearts. It's imperfect at best.
  
• Even the best relationships have ambivalent feelings within them.
  
• The people we love don't live forever, but can live in our hearts.
  
• Children grow up and move away. That's what we raised them to do.
  

So, how was my Thanksgiving? Mixed. As mixed as my stuffing recipe. Yours?

copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Seeking the Good, the Real, the True

I just Googled "under the weather" - for two reasons. First, because I've been sick all week (sorry I haven't written). Second, if I use a phrase, I want to speak with authority about its origins and uses.

Google returned a variety of sites claiming etymological expertise. Most say that "under the weather" is a nautical term describing how a sick sailor was kept below deck, away from (but literally "under") the weather. Sorry, but I can tell you this from experience: below deck on a boat is the very last place you want to be when you're sick!

So it got me to doubting the reliability of the sites. Lucky for me, D is an expert in sailor history. If the phrase is a nautical one, he will know it. What's more, he will go to his substantial library about sailoring, and hand me a primary source to prove it. (Ah yes, going to the source. Another lost art.)

Too sick to work, but well enough to surf, I thought I'd use this down time to do some research on blog-to-book publishing. I was quickly overwhelmed by the websites promising instant fame and fortune to any dumb ass who thinks she can write.

So I emailed KC. Because she's in the book biz, I knew she'd lead me to sources of reliable information on the Net. One of her recommendations was a blog dedicated to exposing publishing scams and helping would-be authors navigate the mine fields. Pay dirt.

In the absence of expert guidance, the Internet is flat, no one set of information appearing more valuable than another. KC's insider knowledge helped me to distinguish The Truly Valuable from The Totally Useless.

Readers, please tell me about your experiences when searching for experts and expertise. What methods do you use to separate wheat from chaff? How do you know valuable service when you see it? How do you evaluate web information?

I'm asking this because I'm wondering if, like the blog exposing scammers in the publishing industry, I should be offering you my take on some of the dime-a-dozen sites that claim to offer therapy/counseling/coaching, along with some tips about what to avoid. Your opinion?

While you're thinking, let me go ahead with my first tip.

Be wary of therapists/counselors/ coaches (hereafter known as tcc's) with too many letters after their names. People with the hard-earned credentials like PhD and MD seldom add strings of additional initials with commas in between. A long string indicates padding: trying to look impressive when there's little of substance there.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Mind Your G's and Q's

My second summer job as a teenager (my first being counter girl at Zaccagnini's Pastries), was clerk/typist for the mayor of my home town. He must have liked me, because he would have been crazy to hire me for my typing ability.

On my first day, he handed me a Dictaphone and told me to type a status report on the fire department. (For those of you who don't know what a Dictaphone is, consider being plugged into your iPod and having to type what you hear.) I had never used one, so whenever he paused on the tape, I threw in some punctuation. That's when he told me I was "comma happy." (I do love a good comma, but not as much as I love parentheses.)

Whenever someone in our town won an award or achieved something special, the mayor sent out a letter of recognition. The last sentence in all the letters was boilerplate. It read, "Congratulations, you are the pride of your community." Nice, right? With one tiny typo, I converted one such letter to, "Congratulations, you are the price of your community." Good thing the mayor never signed anything he himself hadn't proofread.

Recently, an avid reader of this blog wrote to tell me how she had misread my list of topics, and was very eager to read the posts that had to do with "guilting." I don't know if she was disappointed, but I know she must have been surprised when they turned out to be about "quilting."

But she sure got me to thinking. Just like love, guilting is a verb. Well, it's really not a verb, but should be. Here's my attempt at a definition. Guilting: the use of statements and behaviors to manipulate someone into thinking they have wronged you, and thus getting them to do what you want. Behaviors include crying, sulking, pouting (women, usually) anger and silent treatment (men mostly). May include crossed arms and foot-stamping, slamming doors and statements like, "You don't really love me," or "I thought you were my friend."

If you've never been, well, guilty of guilting someone, raise your hand. Those of you with your hand up may leave the room. Hmmm, I don't see any hands. So here's a mature and direct strategy to replace guilting.

1. Identify the need or desire you have.
2. Acknowledge it as a need or desire, not a god-given right.
3. Ask your partner/friend if they can indulge you in this need.
4. Find out what you can do for them in return.

Thanks, MG, for getting my wheels turning on this one. Shows you just how important my readers are.

And if I had continued to glaze donuts, where would we all be now?

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Everyone Needs a George (or Two)

There are a couple of pocket doors in our house stuck from day one. Dysfunctional, you might say. We have entertained several theories about why they don't work. One was that they had fallen off their tracks. With that theory in place, we tried with a crowbar to raise them back into position. Didn't work. Bad theory, no solution.

Neither of us has a passion (nor an aptitude, obviously) for household fix-it projects. So the pocket door issue languished unresolved in the "not important/not urgent" category. That is, until we were two days away from having a houseful of guests.

Of course we've had housefuls of company before, but there were always some family members in the mix. So we did what you do with family: we stuck them in the dysfunctional room with the door that won't close and the closet that won't open. When they complained, we just said, "tough."

But now we were faced with house guests who were, well, "bona-fide." The pocket door issue became both important and urgent! There was only one thing to do. We had to call George.

George happens to be competent in several (hundred) areas we are clueless about. While we had wasted precious hours trying to diagnose the doors, George looked at them with expert eyes. He examined them from a few angles. He rubbed his chin. He said "hmmm" about three times. "These doors are too long," he declared. In fifteen minutes he had them shaved, reinstalled and working just fine.

Andrew Keen wrote a provocative book in which he laments the demise of our faith in the expert. He holds the Internet responsible. It has become way too easy for us to Google or Wiki something and think we've become instant experts. Everybody thinks they know everything.

I don't deny that there's plenty of information (some of it even accurate) available with just a click. But does it make any sense to think we are completely competent to synthesize, interpret and act on information in subject areas we have not taken the time to study in depth?

Experts see things we don't see. Experts see things differently. Experts carry tools we don't possess.

The smartest, most successful people are not people who know everything. Rather, they are people who can distinguish between their areas expertise and their areas of rank amateurism. To handle the latter, they hire the experts.

If you think you may have fallen off the wagon and become addicted to the idea that you know everything, I have the Three Step Progam for you.

1. Acknowledge that you have a pocket door problem.
2. Admit your powerlessness over the pocket door problem.
3. Call George.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Time Out For Fish

I have many serious things to write about and that will soon follow. But right now I'm giving myself (and you) a break from the serious to attend to the whimsical.

That I am a serious quilter is no surprise to readers. But I've recently become a whimsical quilter, and I'm finding that to be quite a different and important experience.

Early this month, I attended a lecture and slide/trunk show by artist, Susan Carlson, who specializes in fabric collages. I was so taken by her work that I bought her book and followed her guidelines to make a fabric collage fish. I say "guidelines," because Susan isn't fond of "rules." She breaks all the rules perpetrated by the quilt nazis. She even glues pieces of fabric together. (No stitching? Mon dieu!)

All of my quilting forays to date have been satisfying. But this was satisfying in a new way. As I auditioned little pieces of fabric to represent fin and tail and eye, I heard myself laughing out loud at the results. I've never laughed while quilting before.

Look closely at the fish's mouth. That was my greatest victory. I found a single piece of fabric that had just the right shape to it. On its original cloth (in another life, you might say), it was the pant leg of a man in a tribal scene. One thing you learn from Susan is to look at fabric in a whole new way.

So what's all this have to do with you? Well, a few things. (I make the promise here and now that if this blog ever becomes all about me and offers you nothing, it will be time for me to stop. And I will.)

First, throw out most of the rules. If there are ten rules, it's likely that you really need only one or two of them. Failing to question the prevailing wisdom (the rules) will lead you straight to mediocrity.

Second, put whimsy into your life. Something or someone needs to tickle your funny bone (or fish scales) every day. Laughter is indeed the best medicine for maintaining mental health.

Finally, and most importantly, learn to look at things with fresh eyes. Go find the fish mouth in the pant leg of life.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Love is a Verb

Talk is cheap when it comes to loving someone. I've seen way too much evidence that people think saying "I love you" is enough. So I'll skip the lecture and get to the bottom line.

Love is a verb. To love someone means taking every opportunity to demonstrate it through acts that support the statement, "I love you." The words are otherwise hollow.

Salvatore Minuchin, one of the greats of family therapy, opened a conference on couples therapy by asking, "Why is it that we fall in love with someone for all the ways that that person is unique and different from us, and then spend the rest of the relationship trying to make them into carbon copies of ourselves?" The answer: ego. We tend to let our own personal and biased view of the world get in the way of clearly seeing what is meaningful and beneficial to our partner.

Gary Chapman's book, The Five Love Languages, is among my top ten reference books for couples. His thesis goes like this: there are five categories that capture all the ways there are to show love to someone. They are:

• words of affirmation


• quality time together


• gifts


• acts of service


• physical touch

Each person ranks the importance of the five differently. We do our best job of loving someone when we know the rank order that person puts them in and act accordingly. Seems simple, but then there's that tricky little ego. It gets in the way. Instead of acting according to our loved one's preferences, we act from our own. Example.

Bobbie and Steve had been making significant progress in therapy. When I commended them on their efforts, Bobbie said, "Yes, but wait, it's almost Valentine's Day. We have had a huge fight every Valentine's Day for the past ten years."

Here's their story, repeated every year.

Steve: "What would you like for Valentine's Day, Bobbie?" (Notice, his heart is in the right place.)

Bobbie: "I just want you to send me flowers at work." (Her favorite love language looks like gifts, but is really words of affirmation. In her case, public affirmation.)

Steve: "That's not good enough for you. I want to buy you something expensive. And besides, sending flowers wouldn't be a surprise." (One more testimony to the overrated worth of surprises. See Really Big Birthdays.)

So V-day would come, she'd cry when she opened the diamond bracelet, he'd get angry at her lack of appreciation (notice the tricky little ego getting in his way?) and they'd go into yet another month long cold war. (By the way, he's the one who loves the expensive clothes and jewelry.)

After hearing this story and the arguments that ensued in my office, I decided to meet with him alone. If I were Dr. Phil, I would have said, "So, the expensive gifts, how's that workin' for ya?" But I'm not, so I taught him about the love languages, and suggested he try it her way just this once.

Convincing him was harder than herding cats. (Sometimes the power of the ego can be daunting.) But he did in fact send her flowers at work. She was ecstatic. He was proud he could please her. Therapy ended shortly thereafter. (I bet you didn't know that good therapy is about working yourself out of a job.) PS He still sends her flowers every Valentine's Day.

You too can try the love languages approach. Here are the three simple steps.

1. Ask your partner to rank order the list.
2. Start behaving accordingly.
3. Give your ego a swift kick every time it tries to get in the way.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

SAD, but not for long

"Oh mister sun, sun, mister shiny sun..."

It's been raining for five straight days, thunderstorms in the mix last night and today. When it is cloudy for more than three days in a row, I begin to feel down-- my own personal Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I saw only tiny glimpses of it before moving to Maine. Much as I love it here, winter is much longer and grayer than it was just a couple of states south. To add to the misery, winter is followed by a beige spring that Mainers call "mud season." And if you want to know what mud season is like, a local TV commercial compares it to having a colonoscopy. In short, plenty of dull days, colored with my least favorite crayons in the box.

"Won't you please shine down, oh won't you please shine down, oh won't you please shine down on me........"

The first time, it hit me as a really bad case of the blues. I rounded up the usual suspects looking for a reason. There was nothing I could put my finger on. That's the earmark of SAD: no apparent cause. And despite years of helping others with SAD, I couldn't see it in myself. (It was D who suggested SAD as the explanation for my melancholy. Thank you D.)

"Oh mister sun, sun, mister shiny sun, hiding behind that tree...."

I knew he was right instantly. What to do about it? I could take the advice I've given to clients many times and order a light box, but that would take days. My misery was NOW.

Well, at the same time, I was trying to set up my craft studio. I thought it would do me good to stick to my plans, despite my mood. So armed with my list of hardware needs, I headed to Home Depot. Pushing yourself to accomplish things when you're down helps.

But serendipitously, something else turned out to be the miracle I needed. Among my purchases were two four-foot workshop lights. You know, the fluorescent ones that come encased in the ugly, aluminum-waffle reflectors. I spent the afternoon hanging them from the ceiling. By evening I was working on a little project under the lights. After a couple of hours I noticed that my mood had lifted. I felt back to normal.

"This old gal is a-tellin' you, to sunshine she will ever be true...."

I was really struck by the power of bright lights to bring my mood around. Sure, there are other things that I can recommend to you to lift your mood when you're down, from vitamins to antidepressants. But I must say that the simplest, cheapest, most readily-available and quick-acting remedy I've found are bright fluorescent lights.

So now, when the days are consistently gray, you'll find me spending as much time as possible in my studio under the lights. Oh, yeah, and also singing the "Mister Sun" song Sister Benedicta taught me in third grade.

"So mister sun, sun, mister shiny sun,
Won't you please shine down, oh won't you please shine down, oh won't you please shine down on me!"

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Seasoned

Yesterday, D made a comment about the woodpile as we sat having morning coffee on the porch. "Look at how much it has settled since we stacked it last month. It reminds me of how people settle into certain ways as they age."

He met this man long ago when he was working for a chiropractor as a novice massage therapist. The patient had been in a nasty accident. The combined work of the chiropractor and the massage therapist had given him back 90% of his physical functioning, but the man continued to lament, "When will I get back that last 10%?" D asked his boss what could be done for this unsatisfied customer. The doc responded: "The man is almost seventy. He's had a major accident. We've worked some miracles getting him to where he is. He's never going to get back that last 10%."

So it got me to thinking about having realistic expectations. Physical flexibility is a free gift to the young, but as you age you must exercise to maintain it. Even doing your best, you will lose some of it over time. But as physical flexibility wanes, it can be replaced by growing reserves of wisdom: a flexibility of the mind and heart. I say "can be" because if you focus only on your physical self and fail to develop your mental, spiritual and emotional qualities, you will be disappointed by the results.

I do not fret over the settling of the woodpile. I expect it. I won't call my wood guy to say that as a result of the settling, I didn't get my full cord. The wood is aging as it is supposed to.

If we set our expectations and our goals to be in keeping with nature's way, we won't be disappointed. In fact, that old wood will burn with a warm radiant glow come winter.


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Whisper Words of Wisdom....

I was reviewing my posts recently and was surprised to find a common theme running through them. It is about letting go and leaving things alone.

It came up in a conversation with a client last week. She's concerned about her daughter who is stuck in an unhealthy relationship. She asked me several times what she could do about her daughter's problem. Mostly, my answer was the same each time: don't do anything. If you do, you will deflect your daughter's attention away from grappling with the situation herself. Instead, she will put all her energy into defending the relationship and arguing with you.

Most of us have grown up in a society where exerting influence over people and events is highly valued. When faced with a problem, we believe we must "do something." So when I tell a client to let something go, the reaction is often: "What? There must be something I can do!"

If you haven't seen the movie, "What about Bob?" you must. Richard Dreyfus plays a self-important shrink who tries to go off on a family vacation. Bill Murray is a clinging, needy patient who follows him to Lake Winnipesaukee. No matter what the doc does to set limits and keep him at a distance, Bob sticks to him like flypaper. I think it illustrates in a most humorous way how our attempts to control others often backfire.

I am not immune to wanting to exert my will over events around me. I once led a weekly therapy group that met in a room with an assortment of comfortable chairs. One of them was a beanbag chair. Each week George would arrive early to secure the beanbag chair for himself. Shortly into each session, he would fall asleep and snore through the rest of the meeting! I thought I could take care of this by locking the beanbag chair in a closet. Wouldn't you know that the next week George showed up with his own beanbag chair in tow?

So I guess the message today is, next time you've got a problem and you're trying to think of what to do about it, ask yourself, "What would happen if I did nothing?" It may be best if you simply go with the flow. Listen to those great philosophers, the Beatles. "There will be an answer, let it be."



Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

September Blessings

It's the end of the month, and I'm sitting here paying bills. It's a chore I neither like nor one that leaves many pennies in the bank. Hence my mood is less than charming.

So I've been trying to think of an antidote for the misery it brings, and I think I've come up with something really great. I'm counting my September blessings while I pay my September bills! Brilliant, huh?

I'm not talking about those global blessings, like my children, my home, my health. Although those are blessings of the highest caliber, counting them becomes a cliche. Rather, I'm recalling the things that happened just this month that made the month sparkle. How easy it is to forget them in the misery of the moment.

So here are my September blessings.

1. Touring a great landmark, the Portland Observatory. This is an historic site that looks like a lighthouse but isn't. And I made my way to the top for a quick view of the panorama below. Quick because I have a dreadful fear of heights. (Yes, I have my little closet insanities, just like you.)

2. Moody Pond Day. So named for spending a leisurely Sunday with good friends Emily, George, and Sarah, -- just canoeing and kicking back. Later we ate "Dave's famous" hamburgers, followed by apple pie (made straight after picking at Bailey's orchard) topped with home made vanilla ice cream.

3. The Common Ground Fair, where I alway have fun and learn something new.

4. 90-degree weather. This is especially to be celebrated when we know what's in store in just a couple of months.

5. Two new requests to teach: one of my favorite things to do.

6. Foraging with Jerry and introducing Fran to rug braiding and plaiting.

7. Meeting Kathy: quilt diva extraordinaire.

8. A watsu from Emily. Awesome!

9. And best of all, meeting my new "grandchild." Say hello to Kallie.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Stillness Speaks

I heard a piece on public radio the other day concerning the people of Newton, Massachusetts. Newton is mostly a middle to upper middle class community, full of stately Victorian homes and manicured parks. People take great pride in the appearance of their property. Hence, the leaf-blowers.

That's what the radio piece was about: how residents of Newton are being driven mad by the constant roar of leafblowers. It was no stretch for me to take a walk in their shoes. Before moving to Maine, I lived in a wonderful house on a postage stamp lot. There were so many days when I stepped out to the back yard, seeking a quiet moment in the garden, only to hear some neighbor's noisy machinery roar into action.

I now live on a pond in the woods. On almost a daily basis, weather permitting, I hop in my kayak for a sometimes vigorous, sometimes lazy paddle. I usually make a ritual of leaving all my cares on shore and go off to seek the stillness. Before too long, my thoughts turn off and "stillness speaks."

That phrase is borrowed from Eckhart Tolle. I'm a big fan. He is all about stillness and being present. He probably would like my stillness practice. But he would also say we need to find stillness wherever we are. That it is a condition we must create within so we do not need to rely on an environmental one, like my pond and woods. (Although the environment helps, and I wish you were here.)

Which leads me back to the folks in Newton. Shutting out the sound of those mechanical tornadoes is not easy, but having a stillness practice might help. My old house was on a commuter street. Late at night, one car per hour might drive by. But starting around 5 am came the delivery trucks, the school buses, and all the workers heading into town. And of course the sirens. At first, it would wake me and keep me awake. But I began to tune in to the silence inside my room. Soon I no longer heard the noise outside.

Like the Newton folks, many people live in situations where stillness is a precious commodity. And Tolle has taught me, "Stillness is where creativity and solutions to problems are found." So, developing a stillness practice is one of the most important gifts you can give yourself.

Thanks for your wisdom, ET. Oh, and ET, I bet you don't even own a leafblower, right?


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Blessings Come When You're Not Looking

I've been braiding rugs for our log home ever since meeting my braiding teacher at the 2005 Common Ground Fair. (Yes, that was the same day I took the mushroom class that turned me into a forager.)

This picture is a sample of my work. Like two lovers, rugs and quilts compete for my creative time and attention.

One morning last December, I was surfing cyberspace looking for rug wool. Wool has been replaced by synthetics in recent decades making it more expensive and increasingly difficult to find.

This particular day, I stumbled upon a Yahoo group for rug braiders. (Who knew?) A new post had just come in. It was from a widower whose wife had been a rug braider. He was looking for a local braider to give his wife's stash of wool to. (I know, don't end with a preposition.)

The operative word here is "give." With wool increasing scarce, "give" is not a word commonly associated with it. And seeing as how he lives in the Midwest, I did not even faintly resemble "local." So I wrote and offered to buy his wife's stash as well as pay for postage.

A deluge of Yahoo responses followed from other wool-starved braiders. I suspect he was overwhelmed by the numbers, since he posted a message to all saying he'd think about our letters and get back to a lucky recipient. (Sounds like the dating game, doesn't it?) Ever the loser in any game of chance, I forgot all about it.

Then in March an email arrived. The name of the sender did not ring a bell, but as I read the message I recalled the widower with the stash. He made a proposition (not that kind). He asked if I would finish a rug his wife had not completed in exchange for a box of her wool. He further offered to send the remainder of her stash once the rug was returned to him. I accepted.

A week or so later, a very large box arrived, containing beautiful wool in assorted colors, and Meg's (not her real name) little rug, with one unattached round of braid. That weekend, during a Nor'easter, I sat and butted that final round onto Meg's little masterpiece. Anyone who has ever finished or repaired the handiwork of someone whose creation has outlived them, knows what a spiritual experience this can be. Here's a picture of Meg's rug completed.

I returned the rug to the sender and as promised, two more cartons of wool arrived in a couple of weeks. What had I done to deserve such riches? How does someone take such a leap of faith to send a precious artifact and valuable goods across miles to a perfect stranger? And why did he choose me from all the respondents?

He told me he visited my website where he read my statement about placing a high value on creativity as a source of mental health. That made the difference.

So what's the point of this story? First, isn't it amazing that people interested in one of the earliest American crafts are using such seemingly contrary modern technology to find one another? And isn't it fascinating that you can put out some aspect of yourself not knowing how or when someone else will resonate with it?

So, maybe the lesson here is: allow yourself to be known to others. Let them know how you think and what you feel, and most importantly what you believe in. They will do the rest.

Copyright starfishdoc 2007

Control is Such an Ugly Word

I've been thinking lately about the word, "control." We toss that word around a lot. "You're trying to control me!" "She has control issues." "Have you got a control problem?" We tend to see it in strictly negative terms.

But there are different ways of looking at control. At one end there's abuse and domination. Seen in this light, there's nothing nice or good about control. But in the right context, control can have merit.

Consider the bonsai. If you've ever tried to raise one of these miniature trees you know what a challenge it is. You must attend to its roots, its trunk, its branches and leaves. You must give it just the right amount of sunlight. You must learn when to fertilize and when to water. And you need to know how much. And despite how you would like it to grow, it appears to have a direction all its own.

I've been told that some people consider the wiring of bonsai branches to be torturing the tree. On the contrary, this practice is essential to guiding the tree's proper growth. It's a loving form of control.

But there is a limit to the control you can exert on a bonsai. You cannot take a branch that wants to grow left, twist it, and wire it to go right. Rather, bonsai experts will tell you that you must study the tree and observe how it wants to grow. As Saburo Kato says, "you'll sense that the plant is trying to tell you something."

So healthy control has its limits. You cannot force a tree to grow in a direction it does not appear to want to grow. Rather, you can only shape the natural direction of the growth.

Nurturing a valued human relationship, be it with your children, your spouse, or a dear friend, is a lot like raising bonsai. You need to be open to what the relationship is trying to tell you about how it wants to grow. The control you employ must be in service of the direction the relationship naturally wants to take.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Really Big Birthdays

I just had one of those Really Big Birthdays. You know, the kind that ends in a Zero. (Sorry, you'll have to do the math.)

I kept it pretty much a secret, because as an introvert, the last thing I wanted was a party. And a surprise party would be the worst.

No, what I wanted was a quiet time doing my favorite things with close friends. And I got what I asked for.

My two best friends drove five hours to spend the weekend with us. We spent most of our time settin' on the front porch solving the world's problems as well as our own. One of the things that makes us best friends is we don't mind listening to stories over again that we've told each other before. (Is that helping you with the math?)

We also had a wonderful dinner at a local bistro where we know the owners by name and they treat us like family. We toasted the occasion many, many times!

And the weekend was not without its excitement. After dinner we had to do catch and release on a bat that was performing acrobatics in our living room.

So what's this post really about? Two things. Really Big Birthdays and Introversion. And how the two go together.

When I was about eight months pregnant with my second child, I told my family that I absolutely did not want a baby shower. Despite their attempts to heed my request, one friend insisted. Worst of all, it was a surprise shower.

Introverts hate surprises. Introverts hate being in the limelight. I mean, really hate it, as in rather spend the day cleaning toilets.

Imagine my misery walking into a room full of people shouting "surprise!" and focusing all their attention on me! And I was in fact not surprised.

That's another thing about introverts. We are keen observers who rarely miss the subtle cues around us, such as someone talking a little too softly on the phone. So, I was not only miserable about going to the party, but now I felt the obligation to act surprised so my friend wouldn't be disappointed.

So, thanks to those who honored my desire for a quiet birthday, especially those who wanted to throw me a party but knew better. What finer gift than to be accepted and understood? What could feel more like love?

Moral of the story: if you want to help someone celebrate a special occasion, stop and walk around in their loafers. Especially if they are introverts. Help them celebrate in the way they would most desire it, not the way you think it should be done. They'll really be grateful.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Bulb-Changing by Proxy

I had been seeing this teenager weekly for a few months, and frankly, we were getting nowhere. (Teenagers can be ornery when they are forced to get counseling.) Her parents and I agreed there were things she needed to change. As far as she was concerned, she was fine as is.

Then she announced she wasn't going to come anymore. So I asked her what she would do if her parents insisted. She said, "I'll just come and sit here for an hour and not say a word."

Every therapist gets the silent treatment sometimes. In fact, we call it the dental interview because it feels like pulling teeth. But this kid was planning to make a career out of it.

So I told her parents I wasn't going to see her anymore. Naturally, they were disappointed: they still had a difficult teenager on their hands.

So I suggested to them that the three of us meet without her, which we did. As a result, a miracle happened. She got better.

How could this be, you ask? Well, knowing that your parents are going off to discuss you once a week may make your ears burn. But I believe that it was the parents who needed to change in order to set things right with their daughter. They needed new parenting skills to increase their competence as parents and assert a more powerful influence over her.

This is basic systems theory. If one part of the family system changes (namely the parents), it forces a reaction in another part of the system (the adolescent). Moral of the story: If one part of the system resists change, work with the part that is open to it.

This approach is not limited to adolescents. It works for any relationship - spouse, friend, employer. If the problem person refuses to seek help, the person who is stuck with the fallout should. Just by learning new ways to relate to the problematic person, you can cause changes to occur.

There's the old joke that goes, "How many therapists does it take to change a lightbulb? Only one, but the lightbulb really has to want to change." Not true. Lots of great changes occur as a result of bulb-changing by proxy.

So if you are living with a lightbulb that won't change, make an appointment for yourself. You'll be glad you did. Just be prepared to do some of your own changing.


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Waiting for Black Trumpets

About 20 of us sat under a tent that beautiful September morning. The scene was the Common Ground Fair, Maine's most popular annual event celebrating organic farming. We were there to learn about foraging for mushrooms.

The teacher passed around samples of the ten most desirable edible mushrooms native to this area. There was one he could not show us because it had eluded him for ten years. It was the black trumpet. Nevertheless, his enthusiasm for hunting wild mushrooms was so contagious that I began my career as a forager the very next day.

The woods were loaded with mushrooms of every size and shape. Being new at this, I took my time and followed all the directions for accurate identification. I couldn't have imagined that on my very first day foraging, I would stumble on a sizable patch of black trumpets.

Every year since, I return to the same spot, hoping the black trumpets will appear. Last year, they arrived in mid-June. This year, I have been out looking for them at least once a week since Memorial Day. I had just about give up hope. But yesterday, there they were, covering a patch of ground about ten feet square. The earth once more yielding her abundance.

Whether the crop is wild or planted, there is something besides abundance to learn from a harvest. And that is patience. Nature evolves in its own time, not on our schedule. And what applies to mushrooms or potatoes, also applies to people. We tend to want the people in our lives to change in the direction and at the speed we dictate. But the harder we try to make that happen, the less it is likely to occur.

All things in nature, people especially, grow at their own pace and in their own direction. The black trumpets, looking like ribbons of dark chocolate, arrived splendidly, not according to my expectations but by their own clock.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

A Loss of Innocence

I just finished listening to a friend's tragic story of being fired after someone made a spurious and false accusation of wrongdoing against her. The details of her story are not mine to tell. Nor are they important to this piece, which is about what happens to the life of an innocent person who has been unjustly accused.

Here are just a few of the damaging and long term effects. The psychological impact includes despair, self-doubt, ruminations, withdrawal, shame and embarrassment. Physical manifestations include sleeplessness, loss of appetite, deterioration in self-care, loss of concentration, and other health changes, like elevated blood pressure. There are social changes too. People start treating you differently. You begin to notice them withdrawing as if you were contagious. People avoid you out of a suspicion that the allegations may be true. The quality of previously healthy relationships turns sour. The social institutions assigned to investigate such allegations, in their attempt to remain impartial, treat you no differently than someone who is guilty.

Worst of all, I think, is leading a double life. By that I mean having this catastrophic experience going on inside while you try to pretend that everything is fine on the outside. The answer to the simple question, "How are you?" becomes a lie, "I'm fine." And the wheels of justice take so long. The time between accusation and exoneration is months, even years. And by the time exoneration comes, all the damage described above is done. Your reputation, your finances, your well-being, all compromised.

I wish there were a way to stop accusers from making false claims so easily, because once an accusation is out it has a life of its own. And let's be honest. When we hear an accusation about someone else, we may say "innocent until proven guilty," but secretly we may feel, "where there's smoke there's fire."

I have heard stories like this many times, because a therapist's office is one of the safe places to talk about such things. You have no idea how many people are carrying around stories of false accusations, but are too ashamed to tell. This experience is so serious, and, I believe, so widespread, that I thought it deserved a name. I'm calling it, "post-traumatic sucker-punch syndrome." I know my friend will never be quite the same.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

How to Find the Right Therapist

When I asked people to suggest topics for my blog, "How to Find the Right Therapist" topped the list. Having been on the search end once myself, I know that finding a good therapist feels like a crap shoot.

The stigma surrounding the need for help is probably the greatest obstacle to the search. (You know, the one that says if you need a therapist you must be crazy.) If the stigma were not there, you'd do the same thing you do when you're looking for a good place to buy shoes, or a good hairdresser: you'd ask some friends for recommendations.

But since asking friends is still somewhat taboo, and our friends often do not tell us they have been in therapy to begin with, here are some guidelines you can use when the time comes.

1. Understand that the quality of the relationship between you and the therapist is the most significant predictor of a successful outcome.
You want to find someone who puts you at ease. If the therapist feels comfortable in her own skin, she is going to make you feel comfortable in yours. Credentials are important, but all the credentials in the world are not going to lead to resolution of your problems if you do not feel safe.
2. Be a smart consumer.
Most folks don't realize that shopping for a therapist has many things in common with shopping for a new car. You need to do your research. You need to make comparisons. Get the names of at least three therapists. Take them out for a test drive by spending at least fifteen minutes talking to each of them by phone, instant messaging or email exchange. Pick the one who was easiest to talk to.
3. Do not let insurance companies dictate your choices.
If you start your search for therapists with your insurance company's list of participating providers, you may be limiting your choices. Many experienced therapists do not accept insurance (that includes me), because insurance companies do not pay us well. And here's a secret insurance companies are not eager to tell you: many policies require the company to reimburse you for payments you make to a qualified professional who is outside the network. So I suggest starting your search with the yellow pages or the web. You can get a good initial sense of the values and credentials of the therapist by seeing how they advertise.
4. Take the therapist's level of experience seriously. This work is complicated and takes many years to learn to do well. (I for one believe I have just hit my stride!) You need not rule out younger therapists (we all have to start somewhere), but you do have the right to ask how long they have been in practice, how much experience they have had with your particular problem, and if they consult regularly with a more experienced therapist.
5. Think about your needs.
What are the qualities in another person that you respond to best? Someone who gives you practical suggestions? Someone who is a good listener? Spend some time thinking about the qualities that work for you, and look for those in the therapist.
6. Consider the best format. It used to be that face-to-face therapy was the only format available. Today, you can choose other formats like telephone, instant messaging, video conferencing, and email. With face-to-face, your choices are limited by geography. But if you are willing to try one of the other formats, the sky's the limit. You can do an online search for therapists and find someone hundreds of mile away who's just the right match. Telephone and IM have some advantages over face-to-face. For one, you can do this from the comfort of home and don't have to dress for the occasion. Many of my telephone clients like the opportunity to take notes, while sitting in their favorite chair with a cup of tea.

Well, I know this is only a start. Let me know if this information is helpful, and if you would like me to go into more detail about some of these points. If you have tips to add or would like to share how you found your therapist, please comment.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

What's a Blog, Anonymous?

Blogs have been around for ten years give or take. I certainly did not think of myself as "cutting edge" when I started doing this a month ago. But when I told my friends what I was up to, I found out that many of them had never seen nor read a blog before. Indeed, many comments on my posts begin, "I'm new to blogging..." One response to my email announcing the birth of this blog was, "What's a blog?"

Now, I admit that most of my acquaintances are over thirty, which may account for the cluelessness. For those of us who did not grow up with computers, cyberspace can seem a rather strange new land. So I offer this little blogging primer to make it easier for you to become part of the Sanity Made Simple community.

1. Blogs are journals. But they come in all kinds of crazy shapes and sizes. All they really have in common is that there are entries made on a regular basis. You will notice that the newest entry is the first thing you see on the page, followed by older posts (journal entries). As posts age, they are "archived". You can usually find the archives section on the sidebar. My archive section is entitled, "More Mental Notes." As I make more entries, that section will grow. (Right now it's just a baby.)

2. While some blogs are personal accounts of someone's everyday life, others offer information about a particular field or area of interest. If you were an entomologist, for example, you could search for "bug blogs" and find people blogging on your subject. (Hmm.... accordion blogs.... I should look... never mind...) Anyway, the idea here is that when someone starts a blog they are announcing to cyberspace travelers, "Hey, I know something about bugs. If you do too (or even if you don't), come talk to me. Let's create a discussion group, or community on my blog about bugs. How about it?"

3. As far as this blog is concerned, I know something about sanity (or maybe I only think I do). I offer this blog in an attempt to share that information. You can react to what I say, forward my posts to friends, or add some thoughts of your own. When you click on the word comments at the end of a post and write a response, you help the sanity garden grow (and give the bugs a place to hang out). The goal here is to build a community of people talking about sane living.

4. People who visit blogs but never leave comments are called "lurkers." I think it's okay to lurk, but I also believe that everyone has something important to say. So I want to suggest that you "delurk" as soon as you can. And you have some choices when you do.

• You can identify yourself with your real name if you're comfortable, but you don't have to. (You'll notice some real name users in my comments section already.)
• If you don't want to use your real name, you can make up a screen name so that each time you write in I know the comments are coming from the same person. For example, I may not know who Maine Poet is, but each time MP writes in we're building a dialog nonetheless.
• Maybe you want me to know who you are but not everybody else who reads the blog. In that case choose a nickname that I can identify you by. It just so happens that Maine Poet is a nickname for someone I know.
• You can do the screen name thing by clicking on the radio button next to the word "other" that's under the comments window. Once you click the button, a box will appear where you can type in a screen name unique to you. So, why am I making a big deal of this? Read on.

5. Yesterday, SO (significant other) was reading the comments on my blog, and asked, "Who's Anonymous?" Answer: anonymous is everybody who is clicking the "anonymous" button rather than creating a screen name. It's like an ant hill. I don't know which ant is saying what. You all look alike. So, let's have some fun. Make a name for yourself so our interactions can be more specific, more personal, even if they are, well - anonymous. In other words you can retain your anonymity with a screen name. "Hi, it's me, Callipygous Ant." (And we throw in vocabulary lessons at no extra charge.)

So I hope this helps you understand and participate. By now you should be thinking, "How many metaphors did she mix up this time? I better get in there and help her!"

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Quilt Lessons, Part Two

Picture this. There are forty women assembled in this room to spend the morning learning a technique called, "Quilt As You Go." We gather with all our quilting paraphernalia, each having carted along her best sewing machine (quilters tend to have more than one). The temperature outside is 98. The air conditioners are fired up along with the sewing machines and flat irons. Collectively, we are an energy consumption nightmare.

Each of us has her own level of skill and her distinct approach to the quilting process. There are the obsessive-compulsive types who mark, measure, pin, and baste everything; and the rest of us who merely eyeball and stitch. Despite our differences and the fact that we have never met, we are an instant community. We are quilters.

There are many steps in the technique we have come to learn today. Our teacher leads us through them one at a time. We complete each step at differing rates of speed. Small groups crowd around her asking questions.

Suddenly, she stops and addresses the entire assemblage. "Everybody come up here and see what Mary has done." Translation: Mary has goofed, and the teacher is about to turn her blunder into a lesson for the rest of us. "Remember to fold the two bottom layers back before you stitch." And, "Remember the solid line is the sewing line, not the cutting line."

You might think Mary would be crushed. Not at all. She's smiling and taking a bow. That's because tradition here calls for a round of applause for anyone whose mistake benefits the rest of us.

Consider this. What if you got a standing ovation for every mistake you made in life? Suppose it was commonly understood that we owe a debt of gratitude to mistake makers for helping us avoid the same pitfalls. If we thought of our mistakes as a service to humankind, would we stop feeling ashamed of them? Isn't goofing up life's little standard operating procedure?

So thanks, Mary. My hat is off to you. Take another bow.


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Quilt Lessons, Part 1

I spent the weekend taking classes at the annual Maine Quilt Show. I went last year as a casual observer and got hooked right then and there. I've been a quilt junkie ever since.

Like anyone who takes up a new endeavor later in life, I feel a certain envy for those who have been quilting for many years. I know I'll never reach their level of competence: there's simply not enough time left! But despite my late start, I'm content to learn as much as I can, enjoy the process, and satisfy myself by surpassing my personal best.
Above is a picture of my very first quilt.

Age (nor anything else) has ever stopped me from pursuing something new, no matter the perceived degree of difficulty. Other things I've started well past 40: earning a Ph.D., teaching myself to play the accordion (I see you wincing), rug-braiding, and studying Italian.

So why am I making such a big deal over this? Well, because I'm tired of conversations like this.

CLIENT: I'm bored with life.
ME: Do you have any creative pursuits?
CLIENT: Well, I play the guitar but I'm not very good.
ME: When did you last play it?
CLIENT: Two years ago.
ME: Why so long?
CLIENT: I just don't think I have any talent.

It has been said by many others more clever than me that becoming accomplished at something has very little to do with talent. It has everything to do with sweat and putting in the time. Anyone who hasn't pursued something really hard is losing out on experiencing that deep satisfaction that can only come through self-challenge.

The fear of failure keeps most people from even getting started. We hear those little I'll-never-be-good-enough voices, and we give up before we start.

So, take a tip from me. Invest yourself in doing something really hard. If you can't get over the fear of failure, here's a suggestion from Benjamin Zander, conductor of the Boston Philharmonic: start out by giving yourself an A. Now that you don't have to worry about the grade, you can drop into the groove of possibility.

Here's a picture of my most recent quilt.
I give myself an A.

Copyright 2007, starfishdoc

Listen to Your Body Talk

It starts out okay. You and your partner are having a "discussion." It's about something mildly unpleasant - like she's complaining that you don't pick up after yourself. Nothing really terrible has been said so far, but you start to feel uncomfortable. Maybe you're getting flushed, maybe there's even a little knot forming in your stomach. But you partner presses on, and the flush and the knot begin to grow.

You start to lose the ability to focus. Suddenly you find yourself screaming and saying some really nasty things. By the time the two of you are finished, you are pretty sure you've done some real damage. It may take days before you're even speaking again, and although you deny it, you have this nagging sense that things will never be quite the same.

What you've just experienced is called "flooding," that sudden jump from rationality to irrationality that occurs when you feel threatened or angry. Those strong emotions start a physiological reaction within you that quickens your pulse and raises your blood pressure, sending a message to your brain to prepare to run or fight.

John Gottman, the great couples therapist, points out that nothing productive will come out of an argument once flooding has overtaken either partner. But to many of us, that seems counter intuitive: we think it makes more sense to argue through to the end, to settle the matter. Gottman says no. Rather, to keep a relationship free from wounds so deep they can't heal, couples need to learn to table the discussion at the very first sign of flooding.

The way to do that is to come to know the first bodily sensations that precede the loss of rationality. The early warning signs are varied and unique to each person. Do you experience a tightness in the neck, chest, or stomach? A flushing in the face or hot all over? Clenching of teeth, tummy or fists? These are just a few such warning signs.

Think about the last time you were in a heated argument. Remember what your body was feeling as it started? Once you know what it is, you can stop trouble early.

When you first feel that bodily sensation arising, tell your partner that you are flooding and take time out to calm down before you resume the discussion. (Please note: this is not an excuse to avoid the problem altogether or indefinitely.)

Conflict and disagreements are a part of any relationship. When clients say, and they often do, "We don't handle conflict well," I teach them about flooding. That's the first big step toward better conflict management.

Copyright 2007, starfishdoc

The Unexpected Metaphor

He's a musician, and just last night he was pointing out why he prefers a particular microphone. "When I sing into it you can hear all the nuances in my voice. That's because the mic leaves air around my voice, especially at the top end."

Today, I'm sitting with two parents and their teenager. The teen has been angry with them for a long time, and behavior problems have been the result. But things are going better, partly because of a great metaphor. It's the one about the helicopter. It describes the type of parent who constantly hovers and buzzes around their teen, asking if homework's done, grounding a kid who walks in one minute past curfew. These parents have worked hard to stop doing that. It was the metaphor that clinched their understanding.

Now that they have removed much of the negativity, I want them to stop what they think is helpful behavior: using every conversation with their teen as a "teachable moment." I want them to see that if they're doing the talking, even when what they're saying is positive, healthy, and character-building, the teenage can't process and think. A teenager needs to hear the sound of his/her own voice. So I tell them the microphone metaphor. There's silence for a moment, then Mom says, "Oh, I get it! We're not leaving enough air at the top!"

I'm not a poet. Many of my chosen clinical metaphors are, well, clunky. I am exceedingly grateful to all the clients who have endured them. But clunky or not, metaphors work. They become a shorthand for profound moments of "Aha!" I still hear about them from past clients, who will say things like it was the "teacup thing", or the "rowing away looking back" or the "bull and the matador" that helped everything fall into place.

Are there some metaphors that have helped you crystallize a problem or discover a solution? I'd love to hear about them.

Copyright 2007, starfishdoc

A Primer on Introversion

An introvert is a person who prefers his own company to the company of others. More specifically, what distinguishes introverts from extroverts is how they recharge their emotional batteries. After a stressful day, the introvert is rejuvenated by time alone, while the extrovert is more likely to meet friends at a bar to rehash the day's events.

Introverts are a distinct minority (of which I am a proud member) in our culture, making up only 20-25% of Americans. What makes that minority status challenging is that our culture favors extroverts and the qualities they possess, especially their social skills. Introverts tend to be aloof, prefer a few very select relationships, like to work alone, and dread parties. These are just some of the characteristics that draw judgment and criticism from extroverts who often find it difficult to understand us.

To make things more complicated, many introverts have no idea that they are introverts. As children, we were victims of attempts by well-meaning adults to make us more social, more likable, more, well - extroverted. If you are like me, you went through most of your life acting like an extrovert (probably not convincingly), while feeling inside like there was something wrong with you.

When I was in high school, I happily served as treasurer of my class for three years in a row. By some fluke, I was elected class president in my senior year. Suddenly high profile, thrown into the limelight, I was miserable! I couldn't understand why I hated the attention and status so much. If I had understood my introverted nature, I would have seen what a poor fit the role of class president was for me.

Even later as an adult, I felt the same self-doubt in social situations. Take the typical professional conference for example. I always dreaded the coffee break. It made me so nervous to try to mix and mingle with total strangers.

When an introvert lives life as a "pretend" or "wannabe" extrovert, it takes its toll on energy and self-esteem. Once I learned that I was an introvert, it put my whole life into perspective. I began to embrace my introverted qualities. I stopped doing the things that went against my nature. No more forcing myself to chat at those coffee breaks. Now I was free to take walks by myself instead.

If any of this sounds familiar, you may be "an introvert in extrovert's clothing." You can find out by going to my website at http://www.starfishtherapy.com/pdf/introversion.pdf and taking the introvert quiz. Tell me about your experiences as an introvert in an extroverted culture.

Copyright 2007, starfishdoc

Blogging for Sanity

Since this is my first blog post, here's some background and rationale for my decision to do this.

I have 30+ years experience in the practice of psychotherapy. I have learned as much from my clients and students as from the research and study it requires to master the trade. Until now my audience has been limited to those who seek therapy with me or sign up for my courses. Now I have the perfect opportunity to share my knowledge and skills with all of you, and hear what you have to say in return.

So many problems are universal and so many solutions are simple. But because we often feel embarrassed by our problems, we keep them to ourselves. By staying isolated from others, we deny ourselves the chance to find out that we are not alone in our suffering and that there are ways to ease the pain. Here we'll be able to share solutions.

I want to talk about the "goodness-of-fit" problems - within yourself, in your relationships with partner, family, friends. Work stresses, role stresses. Those things that make us feel off-balance and slightly insane.

I want to talk with you about "seeing through" the cultural garbage that clogs up our functioning in life. (Do you really need to own an iPhone the day it comes out, or ever? Who made it up that chartreuse is THE color this spring?)

I want to talk about communication - one of the most complicated things we do every day. There are very few of us who do it well, mostly because we don't understand all its facets. And if we have the knowledge, there's not much evidence that we practice it.

Some other things I'll talk about? Life as an introvert, how to parent teenagers (or handle your parents if you happen to be a teen), movies and books that offer some insights into sanity. Some of the brilliant theorists who have influenced my work and are making a mark on living sanely in an insane world. And finally, perspectives on life viewed from my own little "Walden."

Copyright 2007, starfishdoc