Tomorrow is the presidential election. We will have a new president in 2025 who some will hate and others will love. (We live in a polarizing time, and so to that end, I am using polarizing language.) The United States will either flourish and shine or die a horrible death and become unrecognizable. Celebrations will abound, or riots will spout up like popcorn in an air fryer. This is what the news is telling us, depending on which aisle you tend to lean. So on Wednesday morning, or three weeks from now when it's decided, your fate will be laid out for you. Except it won't. Because elections are about politics, and while they have consequences for sure, they do not determine how you decide to move forward. It was only four short years ago that the pandemic changed the world, our lives and our health, and sometimes, unfortunately, our friendships and family relationships. And what happened? We got through it and moved on and life became more normal. It's just what happens and what history has shown us over and over again.
I remember telling an anxious client during the pandemic that the news will never tell us that Mrs Magill baked a pie for Mr and Mrs Jones after the loss of their beloved pet Peanut. Why? Because news has to sell. And that story, even though it may really have a lasting relational outcome just isn't interesting enough. Don Henley wrote a great song in 1982 called "Dirty Laundry". Google it. The lyrics are timely and true. Here is a snippet: "We got a bubble headed bleach blonde, comes on at five, She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam in her eye.I It's interesting when people die, Give us dirty laundry." We have to remember that all of the media wants to grab our attention, and we all tend to gravitate towards the negative. There are actual studies that show that our brains seek out the negative and try to focus on what is wrong. And so we lose focus on what is good and noble and kind. And polarizing language and behavior is none of that. The news rarely brings us any of that. I am not trying to make light of people's real anxiety about the election. I have some myself. What I do want us to remember is that we have a choice in how we behave and think and move forward when all is said and done. I bet I'm not alone in saying I lost a friend because of politics, and I find that tragic because politics doesn't define us (or shouldn't). You are not defined by your politics. You are designed to be a relational person, loving deeply and being loved. And you get to choose how you live and love others after the election, regardless of outcome.. And you get to choose how you will move on after November 5th, 2024. I feel pretty confident that in a year's time (and more accurately, a week's or month's time) we will be back to normal. We will tolerate, like or dislike the new president, because that is what we tend to do. And life will go on, and we will find our equilibrium, and we will find that politics truly falls back to the backdrop of our daily lives. I know that some of you are really scared. I do and I feel that pain with you. And, as someone who has seen a lot of life (and has the dyed gray hairs to prove it), history repeats itself. Every generation has a Trump/Harris moment, and lived to tell the tale. Don't forget, the news serves us daily "dirty laundry." Maybe turn it off for a while. Go outside and listen to stories about the real people in your neighborhood and communities and be inspired.
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I have never written anything so personal, but today seems like a good day to start. Twenty-three years ago today, my mother died. She had moved to California, where we lived at the time, to graciously let me take care of her in her last days. My sister had taken such good care of her for a few years prior, and I wanted to not only give her a reprieve (she too had a young family), but I wanted my mother to spend the last months with me. I had no idea that she would be gone within seven weeks of arriving.
My mother moved in with us on Saturday, September 8, 2001. She was hospitalized the next day, and two days later, the planes crashed in NYC , DC and Pennsylvania. The phone rang early in the morning and I remember thinking that she would still wake us up, even living in the same time zone. We had no idea the news she shared would be world-changing. From her lonely hospital room, she saw the news first. She rallied for a few weeks, but I could see her fading and she could, too. We had many long talks and one day she told me she wanted to go on hospice, She just couldn't fight any more. Her doctor tried to talk her out of it, and she gently asked, "Is there anything you can give me that will change the outcome, or make things better?" He said no. She said, "OK then. Let's do it." I think that was a Monday or Tuesday. My sister and brother flew in that Friday after a frantic call from me after a frightening night with my mom the night before. She died that Sunday. I wish I could say that I was patient all the time with her, that I was always loving, kind and generous. I was not. There were times when taking care of her was hard while I took care of my own family. There were times when I wanted a break and felt resentful when I didn't get one. There were also times when I saw her lovingly take care of my small-ish children, making them Brazilian treats and sneaking them candy. There were times when we had good laughs and shared deep thoughts with each other. We sat at our kitchen table and planned her funeral, but we never really talked about dying like I had so openly with my father. She was all business about the funeral, and then that was that. A couple of months after she died, I called my sister, doubled up with emotion and sadness and told her, "I am staring down an abyss and if I don't pull myself up, I'm going under." I was bereft. And in that phone call, I made the decision to stop grieving. I decided that I needed to put it away and raise my children, and that I would deal with it when they were a little older and I could take the time to do so. We moved to Texas and at some point, I decided to plunge into therapy and grieve my mother. I dealt with my guilt and trusted that she knew I loved her. Maria Cecilia was an excellent, loving, generous mother who adored her three children until she breathed her last breath. My sister and I started a tradition the year after she died that we would commemorate her death with good food and good wine, because she was the original "foodie" before that was a thing. And we never missed a date except for once, and now we are this year because I am in the PNW. At some point we brought my brother into the mix and we toasted our mom and spent time together. Nothing made her happier than knowing we were close. So, what did I learn about grief? You have to go through it. You can delay it, you can do it over periods of time, but you cannot avoid it. I often tell people I grieved my father well, but I didn't with my mother. I just couldn't deal with the depth of it at the time. Make no mistake, though, I had to go through it. And when I did, I did it well. I learned that guilt is part of it. We all regret something. And I learned that we have to revisit that sometimes and remember that our imperfect selves need some grace. I learned that grief is so much easier in a good relationship. I have sat with so many clients who have struggled with abusive parents and they grieve not so much their death but what they never had. I learned that the second year is harder than the first in some ways. Everyone else thinks you should move on. The numbness is over, and you really get that that person is never coming back. I learned that tears are healing, that laughing at stories with siblings is so helpful, and that grief is a gift. I learned that I was deeply loved, and I loved her deeply, too. Those tears remind me of that gift. Grief can be a reflection of that love. There are times when I find myself asking if therapy works. Do my clients really benefit from working with me? Why is it that some people leave changed and others either take eons to make any progress, or sadder still, leave abruptly or feel hopeless? Is it about them? Is it about me? And, on top of all of this, I have read that 30% of people seeking therapy feel better, 30% feel worse (yikes!) and 30% feel like nothing changed. I am not sure about the other 10% but maybe that's for another time.
When I think about the times I have gone to my own therapy, I found each time to be very helpful. Even when I disagreed with my therapist, I found myself even years later pondering what was said and why I reacted negatively to that exchange. Was therapy hard? Absolutely. I've gone for grief therapy (more than once) and marital therapy. There were times when I thought I'd rather cancel and call it a day, but I went anyway and it was good that I did. If I didn't change as a person, I changed my perspective and sometimes, my behavior. What do I notice from my clients? I have noticed that some people run with it! They come to therapy prepared (I never did that!), notebook in hand, mind open, ready to move and move on. Some people come in tentatively; unsure what will happen, if they want to change at all, unsure about me, unsure about the process. Some people come in because they were forced to--either by a partner or a parent or some loved one who said they had to or else. I get all of that. Therapy is hard and if I am honest, highly intrusive. What are the results? I think intuitively we all can come to the same conclusion. The ones that come in expectedly, wanting to move and ready to change, do! The ones who come in tentatively do one of two things; they either slowly open up to change, and do!-- or they slowly shut down and put up a wall--not willing or unable (for various reasons) to put in the effort and make the change. Do I think sometimes the issue is with me? Yes. In therapy world we call that "a goodness of fit." We have to have a good rapport to build a connection because, as I said, therapy is intrusive by nature and we have to feel safe. I have been fortunate to not have that happen often at all, but it can and it needs to be respected by both the therapist and client when it does. So, what's the conclusion. Does therapy help? I think so. If it didn't then I'm a charlatan who takes people's money and snickers on their way out. But it helps only when this happens: 1. There is a good fit between client and therapist. 2. The client or clients are ready to work. 3. The client or clients are "sick of being sick" and are motivated to work hard. 4. The clients are clearly informed that 50 minutes a week (or 100 minutes if I see a couple) will not change anything unless they put in the work between sessions. 5. The clients use the tools provided and know that it's not a one-time fix but a minute-to-minute, sometimes day-to- day practice. Are you ready to make the change? It seems as though more and more I have clients talking about the problems they have with either their own parents or the parents of their partners. These are not conversations that are easy to have. It's one thing to be talking smack about your own parents, but it's another when your partner is going off on yours. I could use this space to talk about how to handle it, and I may at a later post. (If you look at the side of this page and see "Archives", you would understandably think that it may be 2 years from now when you read it. Like you, I am a work in progress!) I want to use this post to talk to you--the parents of adult children.
It is difficult to have an adult child. It's an oxymoron. The conflict is obvious. He or she IS an adult. And, he or she is also your child. The trick is to focus on them being adults and not children. Easier said than done, right? But the truth is, they are grown and raised and living a life that is theirs and theirs alone. They have chosen a partner and may or may not have children, who are also theirs to raise. We had our chance and now it's theirs to do the raising! So sit back and enjoy the ride. The end. Goodbye. Ok, not really. I'd like to offer a few things to consider as you navigate this new relationship. Keep in mind that they are day to day practices. You don't arrive and then it's all good. Things come up and you will have to contain yourself and remember that these are adults living their own lives. Here are a few pointers. 1. You didn't like it when your parents told you how to parent, There is no rule book and we all learn as we go. Unless the grandchildren are in danger (literally, not you being nervous about the possibility of it), be quiet and be a loving observer. 2. Give advice only when asked. Period. 3. Your adult child gets to set the rules. If you think it's stupid that their child eats McNuggets or is Vegan, that's fine. But you don't get to share that opinion. If they ask you to feed Joey X, then feed Joey X. If you step back and think about it, it is very disrespectful to ignore the parents and do what you want. I hear this one all the time and it amazes me. Basically you are saying, "Yeah. I couldn't care less what you think. I will do what I want because your rule is stupid." 4. Your child chose the partner they chose. Being critical of that person, making off handed remarks and being downright disrespectful is a good way to alienate the relationship. Choose to be a friend and not a foe. If you have grave concerns about their partner*, do this anyway. It costs nothing to be kind and polite, If things go south, you may be (though not always) a safe place to land if you aren't critical. And if things don't go south, then you are setting an example of what a loving in-law can be. *I am not talking about abusive partners here. 5. HELP! There is nothing worse than a houseguest who takes and takes and offers nothing. Even if they don't take you up on your offer, it matters that you offered! Offer to babysit if they have children. Offer to make a meal when you are there. Clean up after yourself. This may seem obvious, but trust me, you would be surprised. I don't know about you but when I had two little ones, any help was such a gift! Assume your kids are exhausted. 6. If there are no grandchildren, don't harp about when. Their reproductive choices are not your business. Don't ask. This is a great time to develop a friendship with your in-law. Get to know him or her and appreciate your adult child's choice. Be curious, ask questions, be interested! So what is an "out-law?" Do the exact opposite of 1-6, and you will learn quickly what it means. If Door A is being a healthy in-law, and Door B in the unhealthy out-law, choose Door A. Every. Time. I have been allowing thoughts to simmer for a while now even as I have spoken to most of my clients about what happened in Uvalde, Texas. You know the story--an 18 year old went into a classroom, locked the door and killed children and teachers. Like most Texans, if not all of America, I was shaken to the core. I felt hopeless and wrecked. The next day I saw a comment saying, "F--k the Republicans." Very helpful. What can be done? What do we do? What is wrong with us?
Stay with me here--I'll put it all together. I was walking my pups in my neighborhood and right by a sign saying "A Proud Parent of a (Blank) High School Senior" was a sign that said, "F--k Governor Abbott." Nice. I was walking said pups this morning and a woman probably in her 60s whom I have passed and waved to numerous times over the years, says to me in a shaken up voice, "Avoid the big house on the next street! The f---ing a--hole yelled at me for shooing his charging dog at me! He told me to 'Keep walking and stop being mean.'" This woman doesn't know me other than being a dog-walker with cute pups. Yet she didn't hesitate one iota to use harsh language telling me a story. I get it, she was shaken up, but he's a f---ing a--hole? Really? We can talk about guns, we can talk about policy, we can talk about mental illness (I hate the term--brain illness is more accurate), we can talk about all of this until the cows come home. But it will NOT stop until we become a more civil country and people. Our political leaders ON BOTH SIDES use coarse language and vitriol to demonize the other. Parents scream obscenities at each other and flip drivers off in front to their children. Children no longer think twice about dropping the f-bomb in front of a stranger (me) and continue on talking.( I get it--I'm older--but when I was a teenager if we swore in front of an adult we would turn red and apologize profusely and pray to God they didn't know our parents.) Why do they do this? Because their parents and adult friends talk this way. And if they don't, our national leaders do and it's ok because, hey, they're right and on the "right side of history!" Everyone is so angry. Harshness is no big deal. I could go on and on but I won't. So where does this leave us? We can decide RIGHT NOW to end the verbal vomit, the verbal violence and model civility and moderation. It starts with each individual and each one of us deciding to be moderate with our partners when we are angry. It starts with making decisions about how much (if any) violence we allow in our kids' video games so we aren't deadening the senses of seeing brains blown to pieces. It starts with taking a breath and yes, being angry but choosing to LOSE THE HARSHNESS. It starts with choosing to not join the mob and hating the political opposition and remembering that thoughtful debate and respectful disagreement used to be a thing and can be so once again. It starts with your own thoughts unspoken. When my thoughts are harsh, I try, not always successfully, to change what I thought and be more charitable to the person with whom I disagree. If you think about it, there is just no room for harshness. I cannot change what happened in Uvalde, nor in any of the other mass shootings in our country. I wish things were different. But I am sure of one thing--kindness, a lack of harshness and a commitment to living a non-violent life, beginning with language and tone, allows me to be an agent of change in my house, in my community and in my interactions with others. And that gives me hope. When I was a kid, there was an oft used saying; "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." I would use that as a pithy line to whomever said something mean, or my mom would say that to me when I complained that someone hurt my feelings. Well intentioned, right? Maybe. But it's not right. In fact, it is seriously and harmfully incorrect.
Words matter. Think about something that someone has said to you that stung. You can (and should) put a good boundary up and scan for any truth to it, but nonetheless, it stings, even as it hits your protective boundary. Now, think about when someone said something truly mean. It doesn't just sting, it reverberates in your brain, cuts to your soul and wounds you deeply. Even if you know the person said it in anger and, "didn't really mean it--I was just mad"--it is difficult to forget and forgive (I will blog on forgiveness another time). We tend to carry those wounds around like a bag of stones or an ugly scar. There is research about the weight of criticism vs the weight of a compliment. It takes many more compliments to negate or lessen the impact of a criticism. Something like 10 compliments to 1 criticism--and--we don't forget the criticism and we minimize the compliment. I remember when I was a TA at Pepperdine. I had one evaluation that said, "She is the most unethical professor I've ever had." I remember the chair of the department blowing it off, knowing it wasn't true. Even as I knew it wasn't, it still hurt. And do you know what? I remember that but I don't remember the compliments from the other students. Words matter. Think about that the next time you are angry at your spouse, partner or children. Take a breath. Think about the weight of your words. Think about the damage that it will cause. Think about the impact it will have on your relationship. You may be able to get past it. You may even get to a place where you have a really great relationship, but you will never forget it. Sticks and stones may break my bones--and words can hurt my soul. Monica and Chandler (clearly not their real names if you are a Friends fan) are hard working 30 somethings who have been married for three years. They are both fit and good-looking, climbing the corporate ladder in higher education and oil and gas. If you saw them at a trendy restaurant in your area, you would guess that they are on top of the world and their big smiles and contagious laughter seem to confirm that. If you saw them at home, however, your thoughts of couple perfection would be shattered. Chandler takes his coat off and goes upstairs and plays video games up until the wee hours of the morning. Monica takes an melatonin and tries to sleep because she's already worried about the meeting she has tomorrow with the executives. They cannot remember the last time they went to sleep together, let alone the last time they had sex.
So what happened? It wasn't an affair, it wasn't porn addiction or binge drinking. It wasn't in-laws who butted in and caused trouble. It wasn't even that they worked long hours. No, it was just what happens to all of us at one time or another, particularly in the age of instant gratification on social media or web-browsing. It was just that they got lazy or less harshly, too comfortable. I see this every week in my office, and, if I'm honest, in my own living room with my husband and me. We all forget at times to pay attention. I tell every couple that sees me the following story: We are on Flathead Lake in Montana (go someday--it is gorgeous!) and our children are having a great time with their grandmother and we are taking a much needed break. We get on a canoe (But only because the water is almost still, the weather perfect and there's not a cloud in the sky. I hate water without being able to see the bottom.) and row into the crystalline lake. At some point we put the oars down and just visit, floating gently in the water. After a while, we decide to go back and the shore is so far away that I feel a bit panicky. And then just like that I think, "Wow. This is what marriage is like. You are coasting along and before you know it, you cannot see the shoreline." And it was there that I was clear that I will always have to pay attention in my marriage. Not that I always do, or always have, but I knew that if it was going to last and be fulfilling, one of us had to pay attention! Back to Monica and Chandler. What brought them into therapy was that Monica began to notice that she was more excited to see her co-worker Joey (it couldn't be Ross because, you know, no.) than her husband. She had the courage to tell Chandler that that was the case, and she wanted to rekindle what they had before things got out of control. We talked about what habits they had gotten into, and what things they needed to change. After a month of meeting with me, they were more connected and excited about how their relationship had changed. I don't often talk about clients in my blog (everything has been changed that could identify them), but once again I was reminded that we have to pay attention to our relationships. Ask yourself, if my partner was a plant, would that plant be dying or growing? Ask yourself this too; if I feel like I am withering away, have I asked my partner to do something so that we can get reconnected and begin to bloom again? We are well into the eighth month of Covid, or at least when it all hit the fan and we began quarantining, locking-down, mask-wearing and the term I hate the most, "social distancing." When it first began, we thought we could "flatten the curve" by nobly staying in our homes, disinfecting the crud out of everything and hunkering down for 14 days. But 14 days became a month which became a half a year and beyond. Yes, depending on where you live we have fewer restrictions, but nothing is the same. It has become a shock when we see someone sans mask. Early on, I had the distinct feeling that I had to do something that created a sense of normal. So, I dressed up (normal), went to my office (normal), and began doing video sessions (decidedly NOT normal). What have I learned in the last eight months?
I have learned that we are amazingly resilient. Somehow life does go on. We take care of our families, we go to work (more on that later), we fix dinner and we watch Netflix. We learned how to video friends and have happy hour (hopefully with only moderate drinking). We got into therapy when our marriages were in trouble, we tried to be creative with our children and we were respectful of others when we were walking our dogs, being careful to walk on the other side to give people physical space. We found our own rhythm and pace and found a schedule that somehow worked. I have learned that our society is obsessed with physical health but much less concerned with emotional health and mental health. This is to our detriment. Media talks about safety ad nauseam, but the medical media is practically mum about suicide rates rising, increased addiction, depression and anxiety not only with the adult population but with children and young people in particular. My clients are hurting! We are social beings; we are healthier and live longer when we are connected and physically touched. We cannot do enough of that now. I have learned that shutting down caused tremendous economic loss and therefore emotional and physical loss for millions of us. I cannot imagine losing a business that I spent my life-blood building, only to see it torn down by a virus and governmental restrictions. What about families whose caretakers have lost their job or jobs and struggle with paying bills and putting food on the table? I don't have the wisdom to offer another option, but I am willing to bet that the real cost will be seen even decades from now. And, what about the cost educationally? Children have disappeared from the educational system by the thousands. Where are they? What will happen to a generation of children who have lost at least a year of education? There are so many losses. Too many to name. If you came to this blog hoping to find hope and reassurance, I have a feeling you will be disappointed. Do I think we will recover? Absolutely! Do I think we will eventually learn and be stronger because of it? Without doubt. But for now, I am with you. I am a fellow journeyman struggling with being sick of COVID in 2020. WARNING: THIS ARTICLE IS NOT POLITICALLY CORRECT.
I was walking alone yesterday after I had let my dog back in the house, panting like crazy in the Houston heat. I wanted more exercise so I continued my walk, zig-zagging around the neighborhood. I was serene, listening to classical music and enjoying the flowers and green grass. Since our sidewalks are often not level due to tree roots, I happened to look down just in time to avoid a very large mound of dog poop, right in the middle of the sidewalk. My thoughts came like a rushing current: "How could someone be so entitled, so thoughtless and so selfish to let their dog take a dump and just walk away? Didn't they think of some unsuspecting person or dog stepping in it and having to deal with the after-effects? What the..." And then I thought about the couples that I see sometimes, that they figuratively take a dump (OK gross but I am making an important point here!) on their partner and walk away, leaving them to deal with their mess. And then I thought, "Of course they do! Their parents never taught them to manage their emotions and be kind! It wasn't modeled for them." I thought about the entitlement that we see on college campuses; you can't share your opposing thoughts/positions because it might offend someone (because it's all about me after all!) instead of modeling respectful dialogue. Let's reconsider grading because it might hurt a student's feelings, instead of allowing kids to learn from failure or learn to work harder. Or, let's not keep score because it might damage a child's self-esteem, instead of teaching them good sportsmanship. I thought about how children are not disciplined when they are being rude, how they are taught more about their rights then about living peacefully amongst others, considering the other's thoughts/feelings as they would want that to be reciprocated.I thought about living in LA and a 5 year old visiting my home for the first time and calling me Angela! Seriously? You are five!! I could go on and on with example after example of how we are FALSELY EMPOWERING our children and not teaching basic rules of kindness and mutual respect, and then we wonder why they cannot get along with others, and why they have difficulty launching, and why they have messy and destructive relationships. Listen, when we have children, it is our responsibility to raise them for future relationships! We discipline bad behavior not because it's bugging us, but because it will hurt them and others in the future. We correct rudeness, lack of respect, pitching fits and the like because they will grow up to be rude, disrespectful and immoderate with their emotions because they were not corrected when they were young. We stop tantrums not because our ears are ringing, but because they need to use words for feelings and that being sad or angry is perfectly fine, but rolling around and screaming is not. Why? Because they will scream at their spouse, pitch fits and cuss when they feel badly or feel something unpleasant. We have to teach children that the world does not revolve around them and their feelings because if we don't we rob them of healthy relationships. They will look at their future therapists like they are aliens when we ask them about how their parents got along, how they were nurtured or disciplined and who taught them about regulating emotions.And, we will sadly understand perfectly well why couples dump on each other and have no skills to a) not do that or b) correct it when they forget to be relational. In so many ways, therapy can be like reparenting, and teaching skills to couples that were not modeled or taught when they were young. And so back to the dog mound--it made me wonder about what was going on in their household, what was modeled to them when they were younger, such that they could be so blatantly disrespectful to our community. I went from seriously angry to seriously sad. A while back I heard a quotation by CS Lewis and it goes something like this: If you seek comfort at the expense of truth, you get neither. If you seek truth at the expense of comfort, you may get both. The truth is so hard to hear sometimes. Just this morning my husband pointed out something to me that was hard to hear. My first reaction was to get defensive, which is something I always talk to couples about (as in "don't get defensive!). But after I thought about what he said, I saw the wisdom in it, and I thought he was right and I began to think about a few instances recently when I should've responded differently.
I'm known to be a pretty straight-shooter by my clients. I often tell clients who see me for couple's therapy that I take sides and sometimes I'm on one person's side, and then I switch and I'm on the other person's side. In many ways, I am a behaviorist when it comes to couples. I pay attention to how couples treat each other, what they say, and what they do to and for each other. Sometimes, I know that what I am about to say could hurt someone's feelings, or that person may become defensive and make up that I'm attacking them in some way. I have to weigh this out in the moment. That being said, I am committed to being truthful to my clients, even if it causes momentary discomfort. What I tell them, and what I believe based on almost 30 years of experience, is that when your partner says something, or when your therapist says something (once trust and a good rapport has been established), there is usually some truth to what is being said. It may not be all true, but you can be sure that there is at least an element of truth. Therapy is hard work, and most people don't come into therapy to just vent and have their ego boosted. Most people come in wanting to make a change or work through something. We are relational beings--in every aspect of our lives--even at Target or the dry cleaners. We effect others whom we encounter, We all have edges that need to be smoothed out. We all have rough patches and blind spots. To be sure it's much easier to hear truth from a trusted friend or individual. The relationship needs to be there to speak deep truth. If your rough patches or blind spots are exposed and confronted, do you want the truth or do you want comfort? In my better moments, I'll take the truth. In my not-so-good-moments, I can become defensive. With time, however, I have become much more appreciative of people loving me enough, and caring for me enough, to speak difficult truths to me so that I can become more relationally connected and kind. Good therapy promotes truth telling and you should expect it. |