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