The Importance of Play

Where an apple a day might keep you out of the doctor’s office, doing something fun every 24 hours is a great rule of thumb when difficult times come your way.  Reviewing Richard Dowden’s new book, Africa: Altered States, Ordinary Miracles, author Pam Houston noted that by the mid 1990′s, 31 of Africa’s 53 countries had been ravaged by civil unrest or war, yet there is no word in most African languages for depression. Dowden adds, “Africa lives with death and suffering and grief every day, but to be alive is to talk and laugh, eat and drink — and dance.”

Remembering to play

Remembering to play

Finding time to play or do one fun activity feels counterintuitive when we are struggling. Often we’ll want to put our nose to the grindstone to dig ourselves out of our troubles, or just go back to bed. A Puritan work ethic makes adding something we love seem wrong or out of place especially when the economy is out of kilter.  

 “What brings you joy?” or  “What reminds you that no matter how bad the circumstances, this world is worth the effort?”  are the two questions I like to ask when coaching a client wading through tough times. When dealing with frustration or despair it can be hard to even recall what we enjoy, let alone add it to our day.  Often I’ll hear, “I don’t know what brings me joy. All I do is work and clean the house and neither is remotely fun.”

A way to remember our favorite activities is to consider how we might have spent a free day during the ages of 9 to 13. Harvard researcher Emily Hancock detailed in her book The Girl Within that the “in-between” years create a brief window where many are left to their own devices. Old enough to chart a course through a summer day, yet too young to be expected to work or take on major responsibilities, we were given the time to figure out what we enjoy. So, when figuring out your daily fun pill, note what you would have done as a pre-teen!

Make play a daily rule, like brushing your teeth, since when we are struggling joy seems impractical or inappropriate.  To justify a bit of play, I try to remember that by shifting our perspective to joy we move from a fight/flight adrenaline rich state into a calmer, higher brain region. We will not only cut our body a break (adrenaline is tough on the system), but also operate at a greater level of effectiveness as we move from reptilian brain to our neocortex. So, what might seem like frivolous activities can be the most grounded when life overwhelms.

Need suggestions? Here’s some gathered favorites: 1/2 hour in nature (or in the hot tub?), play Monopoly, watch dogs playing or the birds fighting at the feeder, sing in the shower really, really loud, roller skate, dance around your kitchen, go to an art museum, hang out with good friends, garden and practice woodworking.  And, of course, there is watching the Final Four! 

At a recent workshop, a young woman shared, “After our mother died, my sisters and I arrived home for the memorial service. She died way too young and we were all a mess. One night my siblings and I went to the high school football game and cheered like wild women. We whooped and hollered and laughed until we cried. I’m sure others thought that we were drunk, instead we were probably crazy with grief.  We didn’t act at all like grieving children should. But, we really needed that night and no one in the community said a thing.”

 

Powerful questions

Lately, I have been thinking that conversations work like doors. Sometimes conversations are “open” and through them we can see new possibilities. Other times you can feel a discussion closing down, locking out new information or diverse viewpoints.

Powerful questions have a great habit of re-opening constricted conversations. This week I ran across a short video from Thailand that asks two intriguing questions:  

  • What you are responsible for? 
  • What is your commitment?

 

Asking myself these questions has a centering effect when in stressful situations. They open my internal doorways. The two questions help me clarify what I can control and my appropriate next steps; I pause (a good thing in conflict) as I consider, “OK, what really am I responsible for in this situation?” and “What are my highest commitments?” And, as seen in the video, asking others can transform someone you believe you know well into a fascinating stranger. 

 I invite you to give them a try and welcome your insights!

Learning to Love the Mess

Wander where there is no path. Be all that heaven gave you, but act as though you have received nothing. Be empty, that is all. — Chuang Tzu

A dear friend recently shared a series of losses that he had suffered. As he explained how a terminally ill friend had become the “final straw” in breaking his foundational beliefs about death and his own mortality, I found myself strangely excited. In case you might find me a bit twisted, I hope you’ll understand that my enthusiasm rose from a deep belief in the power of confusion. 

I wouldn’t wish such tragedy on anyone, yet we don’t seem to become wiser when all is easy and understood. Really, why should we? If I have the world figured out, I don’t have much incentive to dig deeper. It’s as though crisis creates cracks that allows wisdom’s light to seep in. I trust that as my friend earnestly wrestles with how to deal with great loss and the inevitability of death, he is going to gather insight. Selfishly, I hope he’ll share his garnered prizes with us.

It feels like our core beliefs create a sort of scaffolding or something solid to stand on over the sea of uncertainty. “I am a mother,” “I am from Minnesota,” or “I live in a democracy,” might be some of the planks that support my identity or the lookout post I have built. But, with enough time, the wood gets worn. Tough times also have a habit of ripping up carefully lain floorboards, like the globally favorite, “The financial markets are secure.”     

When my core beliefs are battered and I can’t tie reality up with a nice bow, I can feel set adrift in that sea. Questions like, “Who am I? What do I believe? What should I do next?” become hard to answer. Life, or my interpretation of it, gets messy or confusing.

I’ve come to have an innate trust in this messiness. My perspective expands when life pushes me to move into a state of not knowing. The more I become comfortable hanging out in the confusion, the more clarity I bring back. Meanwhile, we all have a fundamental desire to get back to solid ground again; I like to know who I am, or pretend to anyway, and to believe that I know how this all works!

Hanging out in messiness as mediator has helped. Usually you will have two sides at the negotiation table that have completely different versions of what occurred in a dispute. A first impulse is to want to determine who is right and who is crazy. Yet, the mediator’s job isn’t to find the real truth, but instead to hold a confusing reality that is created by assuming that the opposing stories are equal. Allowing there to be irreconcilable differences opens the possibility of a third interpretation of the situation that the parties can create together.

Without firm footing on how the world works, or who I am, I notice that I slow down and better consider each step forward. It creates a rawness or necessary vulnerability, as I wonder what else I have been missing. It wakes up my compassion as I realize that we are all madly trying to piece together how to play well with very limited information. Also, if we take a cue from all the major religions, learning to love the mess is “right work” and one of our main life tasks.  So, I get hopeful when those I love dip into confusion, and look forward to the treasures my dear friend might uncover in that chaotic space.   

Repeat after me

Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant –Anthony J. D’Angelo

Eighteen women gathered last weekend for a  “Thriving through Tough Times” workshop I offered in Bozeman. Not the lightest topic, yet one that elicited lots of shared laughter from the group. Ranging in age from twenty-nine to timeless grandmas, everyone had valuable advice to contribute. When we spoke about first finding ourselves in difficult circumstances, one of group elders wryly added, “When times get tough I tell myself, ‘Things might get better (long pause)…or they might not.’”

The grounded optimism of these words summed up a workshop theme. Many of these women had overcome some very tough times. They explained how they had gathered fantastic opportunity and learning from their experiences, modeling how life can indeed improve through adversity. Yet they were realistic, when you lose a child, or your best friend at midlife, things might not get better.

The journey through personal challenges in the Buddhist tradition is sometimes referred to as a “little death.” Our current job/marriage/situation ends or “dies”, we enter into a dark time of transition, and if things get better…or not, a new career/relationship/life emerges. These little deaths are seen as valuable practice to prepare us for the big one at our physical end.

Around the world, we are counseled to be calm and focused on the path ahead whether meeting a little or big ending. Many cultures strive for a “good death,” or one that is conscious and peaceful, since they believe this will supports us getting to the best next destination possible.

Repeating phrases like Theresa of Avila’s, “All is well and all will be will,” is very common global technique to foster a good death and rebirth. We might chant prayers over and over to comfort the dying, reminding them of the life yet to come. For example, in the Catholic tradition, the prayer “Hail Mary…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death” is repeated, while Hindus sing devotional prayers and chant Vedic mantras throughout the process.

When we face little deaths, repeating favorite sayings can both calm and ready us for the adventure ahead. Another workshop participant offered her father’s favorite motto, “Everything happens for a reason.” Explaining how these words provide her solace and courage she said,  “By repeating this phrase I accept my circumstances and I figure I better start looking for that reason.”

Mantras are like a verbal opening bow to the opponent, “Tough Times.”  When this adversary appears I like to say,

  •  “Good teacher” – Borrowing the martial arts belief that our opponents are our best instructors. This reminds me that I can learn something and become wiser (a big personal selling point!).
  • “Opportunity, lots of opportunity” – That’s my version of “Things might get better…”
  • “I get to be here” – Recalling that this might be my only opportunity — in this body anyway — to have this experience.

In the above phrases, notice I invoke attitudes of learning, hope and gratitude. Interestingly, all three of these responses are processed in our neo-cortex or the two hemispheres residing on the top of our heads. This is the portion of our brains best equipped for complex problem solving. When the neo-cortex is engaged we have access to our creativity and can consider future implications of our actions.  We play best when this brain region is in charge. I am thus suspicious that the most effective mantras engage this highest cerebral region.

So, what might be your calming phrases or sayings?

 

 

Sustenance

I believe people want to be of service. As the Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz once said, “The nectar of life is sweet only when shared with others.” You may not buy my hypothesis when you think of others whom appear very self-centered, but I believe that this comes not from their desire, but their ability to give. I am suspicious that a key component in the ability to serve is tied to what I like to call the Bucket Theory.

 Derived from a common cross-cultural belief, we can think of each of us containing an internal water bucket. When it is full, this “water” can be used to nurture, give life to new projects or to brighten another’s day. The water is the good stuff that we give to the world.

 Yet, giving empties the bucket. Ask a new mother about her internal reserves to get a sense of how giving drains us. Tough times also empty the bucket. When my own needs become greater, for example recovering from the loss of a loved one, I’m going to going to be dipping the ladle in my own bucket much more often just to survive.

 When there is nothing in the bucket, there is nothing left to give.  If my can is dry, it’s hard to be a helpful employee, wife, mother or friend. If I am really parched, I may be coming after your bucket too! At an extreme in this state, we become like vampires sucking the life out of our victims.  It is thus critical as parents, leaders and coworkers that we keep our own internal reservoirs in tact. Yet, how is that done? 

We fill our buckets through physical, emotional, creative and intellectual sustenance or activities that feed our bodies, our hearts and minds. These are usually fun, bring us joy or make us ultimately feel better – they “fill” us! It is not the activity, but how it makes you feel. We are not looking for a short term pleasure hit like escaping into a television show or eating ice cream…feels good for a half an hour but then leaves us in the same drained state.  We are looking for activities that are truly good for us. Activities might include:

Physical

  • Healthy food
  • Sustainable exercise
  • Sleep

Emotional

  • Fun times with friends and family
  • Silence
  • Time in nature

Creative

  • Favorite artistic activities
  • Inspirational reading or film

Intellectual

  • An interesting class
  • Thought-provoking book
  • Engaging discussion

Gallup researcher Tom Rath suggests in How Full Is Your Bucket?  it is positive remarks received at work and home that can fill our bucket. Regardless, what sustains each of us will be unique.  Visiting with friends can be fun, nurturing or at times stressful. Exercise can be energizing or terribly draining. In general, when filling the bucket we want to include activities that replenish rather than require an outflow.

And so, some questions to consider:

  • What sustains you?
  • Are you including sustaining activities each day?
  • How are you providing sustenance to your physical, emotional, creative and intellectual nature?

 

And I say hello…

This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival…Rumi

Last Sunday, I found myself employing delay tactics. I hung out in bed for an extra ½ hour and then skimmed a book found at my mom’s bedside instead of taking a shower. When I investigated a new route from my mother’s house near San Francisco to the Mills Peninsula Acute Rehabilitation Center where my father-in-law is recovering from a head injury, I realized I was still dragging my feet.

This surprised me since up to that point I had been welcoming the time to hang out with Peter T. Combs.  His brilliance and sense of humor were passed down well among his children and grandchildren. As the progenitor, it was fun to watch Peter T. still able to creatively analyze a problem, joke with a service provider and then wonder if could tip him.

I had been in CA for four days, but that morning sadness caught me and slowed my progress. I couldn’t relieve his confusion about his whereabouts — amnesia around the fall and the days following makes being in California, instead of his winter home in Mexico, hard for him to comprehend. I also can not solve his periodic wish to “get going and head home.” That day I needed to return to Bozeman for three days and I didn’t like that my absence might add to his disorientation. Away, I wouldn’t be able to make things a little easier.

I know I can’t save him from this challenge. Yet, we are in a time when he suffers, if I show up and pay attention, I too feel pain. I worry about his loss of memory, self-determination and potential companionship. I wonder how long will we all get to practice this form of descent into tough times. 

I don’t initially welcome these uncomfortable emotions. I’d much rather feel happiness, thank you very much! Yet, when my aversion to these feeling, and thus to the situation, has me wanting to run for cover, I know it is time once again to practice “saying hello.” 

Pushing against or turning away from our struggles will not cure them. The Buddhist and Hindu traditions are clear, an aversion to what we don’t like actually causes more suffering. From the Christian tradition we are told to “love your enemies,” even if they happen to be emotions like helplessness or grief. Confusion or sadness do not just go away because we pretend they are not there.

Instead, we are counseled cross-culturally to just notice and be with tough emotions when they appear. From the Islamic Sufi tradition, the twelfth century poet Jelaluddin Rumi suggests we see our interior as a home where every emotion is welcomed as an honored guest. We invite everyone in, whether my favorite buddy Joy or that strange character Insecurity. They visit and keep an eye on them as we might if were to host a dinner party. 

We are wired to try to run from pain. Remembering this, I have developed a habit of acknowledging awkward internal visitors with an unspoken, “Hello Fear,” or “Hi there Frustration.” Strangely, by recognizing I’m nervous, sad, or afraid, I calm down. When I don’t resist the new arrival, both the emotion and I seem to ease. I have to giggle when I find myself saying, “Hi anxiety.” Ain’t that the truth at times!

So this week, as we figure out how to support my father-in-law, I am saying hello regularly to Confusion. Fear drops by from time to time and I’m glad that Happiness and I were able to spend many hours together over those four California days. But, when you see her, do say hi to Sadness for me. She sure has a knack for reminding us of all the good that has come our way.

 

I can’t hear you…

A monk asked Shigui, “What is the first principle?”

Shigui said, “What you just asked is the second principle.”

 – from Zen’s Chinese Heritage

A few weeks ago, I was trying to pass along some information to a friend that I hoped would help resolve a conflict with which she was struggling. She was angry and, no matter what data I provided, I could tell it wasn’t getting through. Every point I tried to make, my friend got more defensive. She wanted out of the conversation and I was ready to give up.

There were clear signs that I needed change my approach. A “fight” (anger/attack) – “flight” (let me out of this conversation) reaction was a blaring indication that she was scared. Fear sits right underneath anger and avoidance.

When we are afraid, we are focused more on surviving than gathering new information. When the adrenaline kicks in, our brain screams, “Get yourself out” and is not much interested in sticking around to learn. So in this state, we don’t hear so well.

Trying to convince another is highly ineffective when she is worried about losing something dear to her. I know this, yet had forgotten as I laid out my well-developed argument…ah yes, teaching what I continue to integrate! After a few tries, I remembered an important cross-cultural rule of thumb, “Ask Questions.”

Asking open-ended questions calms and opens thinking. From a brain perspective, when I need to consider and answer a question, I move from my survival-focused brain stem up into more contemplative neocortex. In that portion of our heads, we can consider past, present and future, be creative, and are more willing to learn.

Open-ended questions cannot be answered with a “yes” or “no.” The better the question, the more it slows the listener to consider it. That might be confusing, but our best inquiries stop others in their tracks.

Favorite questions include:

  • What would you have liked to have been different?
  • What could I do differently?
  • When you have been in your opponent’s situation, what would you have appreciated or needed?
  • Best of all possible worlds, what would you like to happen in the future?
  • What should our next steps?
  • How could I best support you? 

Our conversation shifted when I remembered to ask a question, in my case, the third above. Instead of striving to present positions, I became privy to my friend’s wisdom on practical ways to support another through tough times. We both listened better while she considered her next steps and I provided the information I thought might help. Our conversation, and later her conflict, were transformed.

Ask questions…A remembered mantra in my litany.

 

Fortifying Ourselves

“Well, Blogger Girl,” my husband Bruce teased me last week, “how are you going to sum up the year? Tie up the details in 300 words or less?”  Bruce offered a fair challenge that I doubt I can conquer succinctly, yet his words impel me to write about a topic I have mulling for months…hoar frost.

A strange hook to keep you reading I know, but hoar frost (my children still don’t believe that is its real name) is the northern equivalent of winter dew. When temperatures play around freezing, and the snow becomes colder than the surrounding air, intricate complex crystals form to sit vertically on its back as the humidity fluctuates high enough to squeeze water from air.

Hoar frost in Montana

Hoar frost in Montana

Hoar frost hasn’t ceased to captivate me in the past sixteen years of walking down the driveway to grab the newspaper. Its magical, ridiculous beauty in the middle of tire ruts catches and stops me when all I’m expecting are headlines. These front yard photos show the glittering results of early morning variations. Hoar frost is my winter reminder that any change can bring out the absolute best of us.

Front yard Hoar Frost

Front yard Hoar Frost

 

 

For humans, change brings disruption. It creates conflict when we are asked to let go of money, people, beliefs, jobs, favorite habits…and the list goes on. Change requires us to adjust and adapt, not a favorite human endeavor. It heightens fear and anxiety and can naturally bring out our worst.

Zainab Salbi, founder of Women for Women has spent most of her days over the past fifteen years assisting women and children in war torn countries like Iraq, Rwanda and Bosnia. Asking her how she bears it, she told me that conflict brings out not only the absolute worst but also the very best of humankind. The good fortifies her to cope with the bad.

Like Zainab, I look for the human equivalent of hoar frost. For example, last fall friends threw a “hat party” for our buddy Dawn who is going through chemotherapy. It was a marvelous evening of food, wine and about two-dozen women gifting chic hats to ease the transition to baldness. It was a joy to watch those in the room love up our dear friend as she modeled each new hat and talked about her experience with breast cancer. With somehow perfect timing, Dawn began to lose her hair the next day. 

The financial markets changes are naturally creating fear, anxiety and conflict. I am not surprised that many of my community are battling with spouses, siblings and coworkers as they worry about paying mortgages and job security. These are tough times. Yet, over the holidays I also happily took in stories of authentic, transformative conversations. These were delicious, give-you-goosebumps tales of healing relationships and deepening friendships. During their telling, I was reminded that we are paradoxically lucky to be in the middle of these global messes; they are affording us the unique opportunity to create dazzling displays of compassion and kindness. Big change creates unique openings that are not present during stability.

I have missed a lot of front yard beauty over the past decade when I quickly drove off to work or was late to a child’s event. That thought fills me with regret. Be it hoar frost, a hat party or a transcendent conversation, I really don’t want to miss any of it. So, that will be an overarching New Year’s resolution for 2009 — try to catch everyone, Nature and me included, at their very best.

I leave you with three questions to reflect upon as we complete 2008:

·     What could be your “dazzling display” in the coming weeks or months?

·     How can you support your wellbeing so you might bring forward your best? 

·     How can you encourage the good of others during this chaotic period as a leader, parent, family member or friend? 

May the coming year serve up ample beauty to fortify you through any struggle. Happy New Year!

 

Christmas is coming and…

I’ve been wondering if the goose’s weight fluctuation was a result of stress eating. Normally, this is the “Oh-when-will-I-wrap-ship-buy-cook-decorate-call-address-stamp-clean-and-even-celebrate” time of year. It’s about now I start cursing cultural traditions and hope my friends can wait another year to see a photo of our children.

To make the season extra interesting, let’s add a recession. I’ve noticed that not only are folks struggling with budgeting the financial outlays, but also with determining the appropriateness of their actions. Traditions can be comforting in that we do the same thing every year. But this year, do you hang lights outside and spend that extra cash on electricity? Do you make cookies for all your friends or will that put them in an uncomfortable situation? My family is now laughing since I have never pulled off either of the above in good times…but you get the drift of the internal questioning. We’ve added the stress of asking “what’s right?” to “how do I get this all done?” 

About ten years ago, Angeles Arrien shared an analogy upon which I rely. She said, when we are under stress, tired or otherwise preoccupied we should see ourselves as standing on one foot. Precariously balanced we can easily be pushed over and so, in these instances, we must pay careful attention.

Given the season and the current climate, I propose that many people will be standing on one foot during holiday meals. They may be dressed up and putting on the best face possible, but may also be wishing they could be hiding at home. So, how do we enjoy the holidays and the people with whom we are gathered?

First, I’d assume that everyone is emulating a flamingo. Don’t expect others to be ready for anything. I’d treat everyone, including you, gently. These are not ordinary times, so if someone loses it, we might want to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Next, look for telltale signs of stress and don’t take others personally. In  The Way of Conflict I describe four default conflict styles. Each displays unique and often unsavory characteristics when afraid. So, if someone:

  1. Gets really quiet or stubborn
  2. Becomes passive/aggressive or negative
  3. Impatiently barks at you, or
  4. Regales you with “the real facts,” and your stupidity,

 …recognize that person is struggling. Your dinner party partner is teetering on her one standing leg. As the person falls you might want to give her some room, or get out of the way!

Last, create the right frame of mind.  When we are stressed or terrified we gravitate to the fight/flight portion of our brains. There in our reptilian brain, we lash out as described in the previous paragraph. However, we can trick ourselves into using the calmer and more rational neo-cortex by focusing on learning, gratitude or play.  See my “Tips for Turkey Day” for applying mind shifting to a holiday meal.

Christmas is coming and Hanukkah is here. I hope the holiday season brings you all its best along with some time to regroup and recover. 

Tips for Turkey Day

When I was writing Worst Enemy, Best Teacher, those I interviewed often mentioned Thanksgiving dinner as a magnet for painful people.  I used the  ”challenging sister-in-law, Suzie, who loves to fill your email inbox with ludicrous political propaganda,” as a typical holiday visitor, however, I was also gifted in my research with a number of others. There was the middle-aged sibling who still lives at home, the disapproving parent and the offensive alcoholic uncle. And the list continued with a variety of not-so-favorite characters with which to dine. 

Since Thanksgiving dinner can be stressful and not so desirable at times, I offer three tips for the day ahead:

1. Consider yourself a foreign exchange student — Become a stranger in a new land. Make it a game to figure out the gathered group’s customs and culture. When a meal is an anthropological study, we can look through different eyes. We instead focus on learning, instead of on judgement (or frustration!).  To win the game you must be able to create a list that answers:   

    • How does the group greet each other? 
    • How do they express affection? 
    • What are their prescribed rituals? 
    • How would I show respect? Show disapproval? 
    • How do they accept another into the group?

2. Next, remind yourself what is good or is working in this situation. Gratitude is a centering technique that forces us into our neocortex and away from reaction and constriction. Make a list of ten things you are truly thankful for. It might begin, “I’m breathing, I can walk, there are those awesome dinner rolls…”

3. And last, how might you bring fun to the situation? Play moves us into a good brain space. Artful use of play might include:

    • Teaching the kids how to play charades
    • Making everyone tell a joke before they get dessert 
    • Bringing hats that must be worn for a group picture, or 
    • Using one of the quick drawing exercises prescribed in Tim Brown’s Creativity and Play video 

 Whether or not painful relatives appear on our doorstep, these tips can help us to stay grounded and involved in the holiday. I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with good food, fun and new insight.  With gratitude :)   — Deidre