GUESS WHAT NORMAL IS

What's THAT Supposed to Mean?!

This short book is PACKED with ah-has.  It's written by Deborah Tannen, Ph.D, and called That's Not What I Meant! How Conversational Style Makes or Breaks Relationships

In the book she writes about why critical comments can mean 'solidarity' to one person, but hostility to another.  And about why some people think being direct is the best way to be understood and others think it's rude.  

Deborah Tannen has written more than half a dozen books about conversational styles, all of which have great, wry names, like You're Wearing That?   And, I Only Say This Because I Love You , and--one that I'll be reviewing, You Just Don't Understand: Women and Men in Conversation .

We, naturally, assume that people mean what we think they're saying.  But, do they?  How often have you gotten someone's meaning wrong?  Or, in analyzing someone's behavior after the fact, found yourself vacillating between various possible interpretations?  Any meaning could be true, in fact. 

People mean what they say, nothing more and nothing less. But, what the heck do they mean? 

This book explains that to appreciate what someone else means, we have to understand something about conversational style and have an open mind about what other people might mean by their words.

Jack visits his grandmother in a nursing home.  She boasts that she is really "in" with the nurses because they call her Millie.  Jack isn't pleased; he thinks that they aren't treating his grandmother with proper respect.  Jack feels the nurses are establishing toward her a footing that reinforces their position of power; she takes their using her first name as an expression of solidarity. 

Who's right in this case?  Who's wrong?  Both.  Neither. 

People like us are likely to read this book and feel a lot of relief--a lot of, "Oh, it's not me after all." Rather, it's the nature of things, the nature of conversation between two individuals that makes for misunderstandings. 

With a doting spouse [a woman] might find herself craving to be left alone, and with an independent spouse, [her partner] might find himself craving attention. 

But, ugh, must we de-code everything someone says in order to 'get' them?  Maybe, but to do so always is unrealistic.  Can we give the benefit of the doubt more often?  Sure, we should.

Maybe your husband says, "Well, look for a new job," as you begin to complain about your hard week at work.  You hear this and feel un-heard.  You feel like he doesn't 'get' you.  But what's really going on?  According to Tannen, he's simply acting according to his species.  As are you.  So, who's right?  Who's being insensitive?  Anyone? 

Does it make sense to feel disappointed when the comment, the suggestion, was well-intentioned, although it wasn't what you wanted to hear?  That's up to you, but Tannen suggests that if you let it bother you--you're making that decision.  

The book is all about growing up.  

People say that this book is a marriage-saver.  (The author wrote it shortly after her divorce.)  But I don't think it comes with that guarantee.  

Conditional Parenting, Conditional Love

Conditional love is like the word LOVE with the word IF stuffed into it.  Lifove.  If you do this, I'll love you. Lifove feels bad.  I guess I can sort of see how it makes sense in theory, sort of, but my head and heart know it as wrong in practice.  The word conditional and the word love just don't belong connected to each other.  Love, plain and simple.  

Last week you might have seen this article by Alfie Kohn in The New York Times:  When a Parent's 'I Love You' means 'Do As I Say.'  The article talks about how some parents use techniques for punishing their children that send the message that love comes only when the child is "good," not always.  (I don't think such parents intend to be mean, they are likely doing what they think is best--and, I suspect, not trusting themselves to rely on their own natural instincts about what works/doesn't.)

This won't shock you guys:  but, children who grow up raised with conditional love are...not better for it; nope, they become anxious, self-doubting people and come to believe that only when they're being "good" (achieving things or behaving the "right" way (their parents' way)), that that's when they're loved.  Because their parents cut them off in some way (i.e., a time out) when they didn't behave how mom or dad wanted them to, they became super-focused on What Mom and Dad Wants Me To Do.  They tuned out their own voice as a consequence of desperately tuning-in their parents' needs.   This is the kind of child that dreads calling their parents with bad news later in life, when it should be their parents they can go to...with any kind of news.  Even as adults they fear disappointing their parents, or being rejected (having a 'time out'), again. 

I know a different type of conditional parenting, one that sent the message, If you make me feel whole, I'll protect you.  If you're what I want, you're good.  If you pretend, you'll be safe.  It was much more fundamental, not based on actions, but on emotions.  It was more raw, a less conscious conditional type of parenting. 

It's tough to shake that loose, that inheritance, and just when I think I'm "well," I catch myself thinking that I have to be "good" (have a certain disposition) in order to keep everyone else in a good mood...but I don't, do I? 

The article is food for thought.  The author of it also wrote a great parenting book, about unconditional parenting, Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishment to Love and Reason.  I wish he'd write a book about re-parenting one's self! 

--ae

I Am the Garbage and the Jewel

"If we have not set up the target, it cannot be hit by an arrow. This is to say that each time we retaliate with aggressive words and actions, we are strengthening the habit of anger."

These aren't my words, I wish they were. 

But these thoughts are:  How to I take part in conflict?  In what way do I play the target?  If someone casts an arrow at me, and I'm not playing at being a target, then there can be no game, no battle, just someone throwing arrows at an open heart.   But if I embody the target, then something in me is attracting arrows, and engaged in battle. 

Christmas before last, my aunt gave me the book, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times, by Pema Chodron. You have to really know a person to give them a book like this. Otherwise, a person could really wonder what you think of their life (a scary place) and approach to it (full of fear). Luckily, she knows that I, too, believe that the way into a light and happy life (light of heart) is through the dark tunnel of emotions (and sometimes the other tunnel, or tunnels, beyond that). 

And dark tunnels are scary. 

The publisher was smart to print the book small (fits in your hands like a slim volume of poetry), and comes with a ribbon for marking your page (though I suggest Post-It notes and a highlighter, too) to offset the BIG, scary title. 

Pema Chodron is an American Buddhist nun who is the resident teacher at Grampo Abbey in Nova Scotia, which is the first Tibetan monastery in North America established for Westerners. She has a way of writing that is extremely accessible for non-Buddhists. While I'm not Buddhist, nor am I asking you to be, I have always found Buddhist literature eye-opening, heart-opening, and mind-opening, so if I had to choose a "religion," I'd pick it. 

I like this book because it speaks to the bravery involved in detaching from our old lives and selves. Because it explains how even the most trained people (those who practice Buddhist meditation) have to work at handling their troubling emotions bravely. Because she believes, as I do, that the only way out of the storm is through the eye. (The "I," perhaps!)  Because she acknowledges that we're all human, and we all have a chance--at any point--to transform. 

Pema got me thinking about how "ordinary" moments in life are, actually, spectacular moments, about how getting really, really quiet within my being (sitting outside sans mobile device) for even just 10 minutes observing life around me--whether that life is trees and cows or cars and people--is undeniably exciting.  She points out that we're distracted all day by our thoughts, and we don't really examine those thoughts or how they are functioning for (or against) us.  

About "peak experiences" she writes: 

Even though peak experiences might show us the truth and inform us about why we are training, they are essentially no big deal.  If we can't integrate them into the ups and downs of our lives, if we cling to them, they will hinder us. 

There's a lot to learn from understanding that sentiment for people who grew up under the drama and chaos of an alcoholic home in which emphasis is placed on appearances!  Does the award, or prize, or promotion, or major decision, or finish line matter "more" than the journey there?  Weren't you the same person along the way?  Are we asking others to regard us in terms of our achievements?  We're so achievement-focused in our culture, that being asked to consider achievement "ordinary" is a tough concept to appreciate.  

But it's an important concept to consider.  I mean, if I define myself by my peak experiences, or achievements, then what sort of regard do I have for myself on an average day -- with less regard?  It shouldn't be so.  While I believe deeply in work and purpose, if I put the most value on my peak experiences then I'm not appreciating all the living that I'm doing the rest of the time, which (ack!) is most of the time.   Understanding this concept (and remembering it tomorrow) is a great way to slow down and be in the moment, where happiness is truly sown. 

What's ordinary seems no longer ordinary but, instead, extraordinary.

There is so much wisdom in this little book; here's one more wise concept that I'll share--which seems in conflict with all that my blog stands for, or...does it? 

Trying to fix ourselves is not helpful.  It implies struggle and self-denigration.  Denigrating ourselves is probably the major way that we cover over bodhichitta [an enlightened, open heart].  Does not trying to change mean we have to remain angry and addicted until the day we die?  This is a reasonable question.  Trying to change ourselves doesn't work in the long run because we're resisting our own energy.  Self-improvement can have temporary results, but lasting transformation occurs only when we honor ourselves as the source of wisdom and compassion.

That doesn't mean we're off the hook for trying to improve our lives, nope; it means that we need to take care with how we work at improving our lives.  Don't try to become someone else, try to become you.  Pema goes on to explain why we shouldn't try to "cure" ourselves of ourselves, but rather to look into ourselves for the good:

We are...very much like a blind person who finds a jewel buried in a heap of garbage.  Right here in what we'd like to throw away, in what we find repulsive and frightening, we discover the warmth and clarity of bodhichitta [an enlightened, open heart].

We're the garbage and we're the jewel.  Get it?

I think it's worth giving this book a chance, even if you're intimidated by the Buddhism aspect -- it was certainly written for every human being who wants an open heart.  And with hope for the freedom that opening bestows.  

--ae 

On the Nature of Making Changes in Your Life

When is the last time a thought went through your head that contained some wish or hope that you could change something in your life?  Very recently, I bet.  (Maybe right before you came to this site?) 

We think about making change all the time.  Yet we rarely make changes.  Why is this?  One reason is that we don't view our lives from an objective enough perspective very often.  Another reason may be that on the one hand, we don't take change very seriously in our culture (American, that is) but, on the other hand, we take change way too seriously.  

I say we don't take change very seriously because it's a tradition in our culture to complain about how it's so hard to make change, how we try but just can't seem to, say, eat better food, eat less food, or exercise, for example.  Yet, if we took change seriously, we'd eat better food, less of it, and exercise. Our actions show that we don't actually take change seriously. And I say that we take change way too seriously, on the other hand,  because we often pre-announce planned changes to others before we make changes ("I'm going to Start Going to the Gym!"), because we're expected to make a big list of resolutions once a years for the new year, and because most consumer magazines make their money because of the popularity of the idea of self-change.  

WE'RE OBSESSED WITH CHANGE BUT WE DON'T OFTEN DO IT 

Although we think of things we want to change about our lives on a daily or weekly basis (going to the gym, learning a language, changing jobs), we don't embark on a serious plan to make personal changes very often. 

(Then, again, change is the only constant force in the universe and change happens--in small ways--every day of our lives:  new face at the coffee counter, your hot chocolate tastes different, road closed/detour, new boss, new co-worker, new corporate email policy, new dent in your fender, they've changed your shampoo formula, they've raised the hourly rate on furnace repairs, you get your hair cut, you're a pound lighter, a pound heavier, etc. So, while we have a complicated relationship with change, we should realize we're actually in the midst of it on a continual basis.)   

We officially make major changes in our lives maybe once a year, or twice. We tend to make changes on our birthday and on New Years. Or, when something big has happened and transformed part of our lives on our behalf--someone has died, we lose our job, we have a baby, a child goes to college, or a relationship has ended. When these big life events hit, we take the opportunity to make a change (I don't mean to imply that New Years is a life event, by the way).   Aside from these kinds of transformative occasions, we still constantly think about what we want to to change--yet, we don't actually make a plan for change.  I don't think that it's because we're lazy.  I think it's because we're caught up in our weekly routine--the structure of our lives hurries us along to the next moment, the next day, and we don't schedule time to take stock of our lives, to look at our life objectively.  Maybe we ought to schedule that in.   

I WAS GOING TO CHANGE, THEN I FORGOT THAT I WANTED TO

I think about making changes all the time.  The last time I had a thought about change was this morning, when it occurred to me that I would be smart to hire a babysitter one night a week so that I could work on writing projects on a weekly basis, rather than catch as catch can, and without having to rely on whether or not my fiancee would be able to always do it.  But not just that, but also because if I pre-arrange the time (say Wednesday nights 5-8PM), then I will actually get writing done, because it'll be formal and official; otherwise, I know myself well enough to know I'd  'forget' it was Wednesday Writing Night or procrastinate or somehow fritter away or otherwise sabotage the 2-3 hours that I'd so desperately wanted for writing.  I don't want that frustration. 

So, that's a plan for change, right?  It's smart, it's how smart people get things done.  It's doing that whole, 'If you want to get something done, schedule time for it," simple-but-brilliant idea they write about in books.   

But, you know what?  I've actually had that brilliant self-helping, set-time-aside because writing is important idea a few times now.  I've solved my I've-got-to-make-time-to-write problem--in my mind, on previous frustrated occasions.  In my estimation, I've thought this problem and come to this solution once every other week for the last two, maybe three, months!  

Realizing this made me wonder, What's going on?  Why haven't I hired a babysitter yet?  Why aren't I getting that all-important writing done?  And there's a part of me that thinks this all feels very familiar--this behavior where I've solved my problem but only in my head.  It's too familiar. Annoyingly familiar.  In part, it's my nature that's in my way.  The way I dissolve most of my frustrations is by talking myself through them.  When I realize I'm frustrated, I ask myself what the cause is, I think about that till I identify the cause, then I ask myself what would resolve the cause and prevent the same frustration next time. 

(In the case of writing, a good tip off that I'm frustrated about not getting enough time is a particular type of anxiety and resentment in which I feel desperation and notice mortality-related thoughts entering my head, like, "If that huge fertilizer truck had just swerved, hit, and killed me, would my fiancee try to get my work published...?"  Usually when I'm having thoughts like those it's because I haven't written in a while.) 

 

Becasue this thinking-through-it thought process carries me out of my frustration and brings me to a place of relief and restores my sense of hopefullness--I feel good then forget, completely, to take the action that will prevent the next episode of frustration and angst!  

I might be a slow learner, but if I clobber myeslf over the head with a thought enough times, it will sink in. I learn, eventually!  (That is, I've put Wednesday Night Babysitter on my To Do List (the one I actually look at), and I have also contacted some babysitters.)

FEELING MUCH LIKE CHILDHOOD FEELINGS

Setting and forgetting plans to change creates an emotional pattern reminiscent of those of my childhood. 

It's much like that calm-punctuated-by-frenzy environment I was accustomed to.  Everything was "fine," or at least manageable, but only long enough for me to recover from the last trauma, before the next chaos and terror hit again, as if from out of the blue. And then I'd think, How could I forget, or fail to believe that this would strike again?  Why do I let my father con me into believing he's decent through and through, self-governed, and conscious?  

It's not the same thing, not exactly, forgetting to actually set a goal and make a change, but it's not a coincidence that it's a similar emotional excursion. When I contemplate change I feel better, calmer, due to my plans--then I'm surprised when I'm upset to find the problem hit again, realizing that I never truly dealt with it. 

 (Maybe, if you're not actually making the change you know you need to make, it's because of the familiarity of the accompanying emotions.  Familiarity offers certain comforts.) 

SOLVED YOUR PROBLEM IN YOUR MIND BUT HAVEN'T TAKEN ACTION?

If you realize that you're in the same boat as me with this, my best adivce is to first and foremost go easy on yourself about not having taking action yet.  Feeling dumb or ineffective is a short, one-way trip to personal misery--and that won't help you solve the problem.   What you want is to stay focused and on-task:  making a change and/or solving a problem.  You have every reason to believe that you can solve your problem, and it's not personal--you're not the first person to get frustrated about this thing, whatever it is.  Just take the action that's needed.   

And if you're caught in an infinite loop of frustration because you know the solution (going to the gym, getting a babysitter, joining a special-interest club, saving money for something, taking a night class, etc.) but you just can't seem to make yourself make the necessary change--then ask yourself 2 questions that, I hope, will get you un-stuck (they work for me):

1.  Am I eager to make this change but so overwhelmed by the solution because it's complex and I don't know know where to begin?  

You've got to break it into do-able steps, and take action on the first step, then the second, and so on.  Here  are some thoughts on how to plan projects and deal with so-called procrastination.  

2.  What is this frustration and lack of change preventing me from having to face?  (Is it possible that part of me thinks it's actually "easier" and more familiar to feel frustration and self-doubt than to feel the brand new sensations and feelings that this change will bring?)  

Be willing to be completely honest with yourself about what might be holding you back from a change in your life.  

One last question to ask yourself is -- Am I OK with not making this change at this time?  Or, if I don't do this, will I be just as happy, or do I need to do this?  Answering that will help you sort out the urgency and your true level of interest in the change.  (Asking yourself if you are OK walking away from the change may re-fuel your passion to make a change.)

A lot of times the way I see it is this:  if I'm already frustrated (with no change) then the agony involved in change isn't going to be any worse than the agony of staying frustrated!   I can't hide from the truth; I may as well change.

--ae

Book of Note - Wayne Kritsberg's 'The Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome: A Step-by-Step Guide to Discovery and Recovery'

 

The shortest and probably the most concise book about why children of alcoholics have the problems they do is The Adult Children of Alcoholics Syndrome: A Step-by-Step Guide to Discovery and Recovery  by Wayne Kritsberg. (It's $8 on Amazon.com)  You'll see yourself written in this book -- you'll see your whole family.  The book answers the essential, "How do I know if I'm from an alcoholic family?" questions immediately, then goes on to show how, why, and what now.  Of course, like most self-help books, the words ADULT CHILDREN OF ALCOHOLICS is written in large, upper-case letters across the front cover, so that everyone can see that you're reading a self-help book with one glance. (I got very good at making homemade book covers out of wrapping paper when I used to ride the subway...)  

The book is a great first text to read when you're just getting into finding out about why it's hard to be the child of alcoholics.  A first book because it's short (155 pages) and because it cuts to the point, describing the heart of the matter:  the types of alcoholic families that exist (4 types) and the roles that kids in those families play (6 roles).  For me, it was an eye-opening book.  It's the kind you underline and make notes in as you read, something you truly identify with.   

"Adult children of alcoholics can and do recover.  Thousands of ACoAs are in the recovery process right now, and thousands more will be joining that process as more and more information about alcoholism and its effects on the family becomes available to the public.  It must be remembered, however, that recovery is a process, not an event."

4 Family Types.  According to the author, a counselor, there are 4 types of alcoholic families: 

If you're from family Type 1, your family line is riddled with alcoholism, your parent(s) is drinking and there are drinking aunts or uncles and grandparents and there are rumors of great-grandparents having had issues with "the bottle."  

If you're from family Type 2, the alcoholic(s) has stopped drinking, and gotten sober, but their behavior and the dynamics in the family are still very much in line with that of an active, drinking alcoholic.  So it's a dry but sick family.

With family Type 3 , there hasn't been active, alcoholic drinking for a generation, or more.  This family type is fascinating!  This means that your parents don't drink and don't have drinking problems, but they still act like they do because they're inherited the emotional characteristics and behavioral handicaps from previous generations.  

Type 4 is the kind of family that doesn't have an alcoholic history and nobody is an alcoholic, but then someone becomes one.  This is a brand new alcoholic family. 

The family I grew up in was family Type 1, my father being the alcoholic, until it became Type 2 when I was in Junior High and my father became a sober, recovering alcoholic. There wasn't much difference between the two.

"ACoAs are full of repressed emotions.  They have carried these emotions around with them for years, and these must find a way out.  They must be felt in order for the ACoA to let go and be free."

The 6 Roles We Take On.  The author also talks about the 6 roles that we grow up embodying -- the Hero, the Scapegoat, the Lost One, the Clown, the Placater, and the Enabler.  You might guess which roles your played just by their titles.

The Hero makes the family look good, and like everything is OK, by being successful in school or, later, work.  The Scapegoat gets into trouble, which takes the focus off the family and onto them.  The Lost One hides, doesn't 'make waves,' and has a non-presence (invisible). The Clown is obvious, it's the child who tries to keep everyone laughing and is always cracking jokes.  The Placater's role is making everything "better" by smoothing over conflict (the human resources person).  The Enabler works to protect the alcoholic from experiencing the consequences of his or her behavior.

I played the role of a Lost One for many years -- quiet, polite, asking for nothing, making no demands, and  sometimes played the Hero -- going off to work in the Big City, being independent, and definitely played the Placater role from time to time, too -- helping my siblings pretend everything was normal so that we could get through the day, so that my siblings could feel less pain and confusion.  Placaters can't say "no."

"Letting go of the chains of the past and finding forgiveness for both themselves and their families is an integral part of the recovery process for ACoAs.  To do this takes many hours of work that is both painful and at times frightening.  The question asked over and over by ACoAs is "Is it worth it?"  The only answer can come from within."

Written by a Counselor.  Where the book is weak is that it's not particularly warm or talkative, and it reads like it's written for psychology professionals more than for children of alcoholics themselves.  It's about "them," not about you and I, if you know what I mean. (That's typical of these types of books.)  

Worth it for the Charts. There are some superior charts in the book.  I love this book's charts because I can see, "Yes, that's my experience!" with a short glance.  That was my reaction to the Chronic Shock Flowchart which illustrates how children raised in alcoholic homes deal with shock versus how children of "functional" families do. You'll look at this chart and within 30 seconds have a much greater understanding of why your mind gets fuzzy when you have decision to make or your emotions are out of reach.  

The chart shows that when a serious, upsetting event occurs (divorce, for example) that "functional" families (a) talk about the event, (b) put the event in context, (c) support and love one another, (d) allow one another's various reactions to the event to play out, (e) and integrate the event into their lives, and (f) then it becomes a resolved event.  I'm sure you can predict what the "dysfunctional" family's process is, right?  (a) the family is silent about the event, (b) there is no support of one another, (c) there is generalized emotional shut-down among family members, (d) and the shock is never resolved - there is memory loss and disassociation and a state of chronic shock stays active in us. Sound familiar?

"There are two general types of family myths.  The first is the myth of how the family perceives itself.  The second type consists of those unsubstantiated stories that exist in every family that are not necessarily fact but add richness and a certain color to the family history.  Alcoholic families abound with family myths."

Not Just Emotional Characteristics. The book also talks about the various characteristics of children of alcoholics, and talks about the physical characteristics, too, which I think are so very important (some of the physical characteristics are lower back pain, tense shoulders, gastro-intestinal disorders, sexual dysfunction, and allergies).  The author divides the characteristics into Emotional (fear), Mental (confusion), Physical (back pain), and Behavioral (manipulative behaviors).

Suggestions for Writing & Thinking.  In the second part of the book, there are some writing and thinking exercises for getting a sense of your own personal history in the context of the characteristics and ideas outlined in the book.  This part of the book is extremely worthwhile -- one of the exercises is writing an honest letter from yourself as a child to your adult self, reporting on what that child saw and heard at that time in childhood. Ow, right? 

--ae. 

  

On Mother's Day

"There is nothing so difficult to arrive at as the nature and personality of one's parents. Death, about which so much mystery is made, is perhaps no mystery at all. But the history of one's parents has to be pieced together from fragments, their motives and character guessed at, and the truth about them deeply buried, like a boulder that projects one small surface above the level of smooth lawn, and when you come to dig around it, proves to be too large ever to move, though each year's frost forces it up a little higher."

We all want to understand our parents, no matter what kind of parents they were, whether we admired them or despised them. (I think this quote gets at that craving beautifully, and is from the novel, "Time Will Darken It," by William Maxwell.) We must learn about our parents to understand ourselves, especially our differences. So we dig, and we dig. I have a new analysis of my mother and my father, and my stepmother, too, every year that passes and certainly as I have more experiences and grow older. I then see new angles, perceive new reasons, have new appreciations. 

Mother's Day was always a haunting day for me. My experience of her wasn't captured in any of the Hallmark cards down at Wallgreens. There was no card that I could send to my mother, and I don't think I ever sent her one. This weekend, however, I'm thankful to tears to the universe that my mother and father created me;  because without this life, I wouldn't get the chance to know the enormous love of a child, my son.  It's a love that can't truly be measured, weighed, or described without sounding gooshy, but I suspect that it's why Earth remains in orbit. (I don't exactly plan to share that theory with NASA.) 

Mother's Day is complex. Bittersweet.  That's just the way it is. Whatever you do, however you celebrate your mother, directly or indirectly, try to celebrate yourself, your life, your dreams, and your goodness. Your life is in your hands now; you're raising yourself.  

My great discovery is this:  we can give what we didn't receive--to ourself, our partner, our children--it's within us.  And that giving will transform you if you let it. 

On Forgiveness

People sometimes refuse to forgive what someone has done because they think of forgiveness as giving in or condoning bad behavior;  that's not it.  Forgiveness doesn't mean saying that something was okay, just that you are at peace with what happened -- forgiveness means that you're no longer enslaved by it.  

Years ago, I lived in New York City.  I did a lot of journal writing then.  In cafes, on the subway, in cafes, at burrito shops, and in more cafes.  I was writing to try to understand myself, my mind and heart, my pain then, and how to dissolve the pain.  Journal writing and the thinking that went along with it was my Dawn dishwashing liquid, dissolving the hardest, most clingy pain. 

The complexity of my issues with my mother was particularly tough to cut through then.  My mother allowed my stepmother to adopt me as her own daughter when I was six-years-old.  I was opposed to this with every fiber in my small person's body.  But I had no voice.  I didn't live with my mom after age four, I lived with her parents from age four to five.  She was eccentric (read crazy) and plagued by addictions.  The word "abandoned" is overused these days, but my mother abandoned all her mothering responsibilities.  She stopped mothering me when I was four, so she had memories of us together, while I have none.  She spent her entire life trying to get back on her feet and sober but never succeeded for very long and she died at age 53.  You can read about her here .  

She would call me at two a.m. to talk as if it were two in the afternoon, she sent me Christmas ornaments for my birthday in August (wrapped in newsprint); her strangeness was extremely hard for me to handle and I longed for a normal, loving, nurturing mother.  I ached for it.  I rejected the narcissistic one I had, the one who'd left me to her parents to raise (later she would call this act of abandoning me "setting you free." )

One day the weight of her, and my anger towards her, was too much.  I was in my own way.  I needed to be lighter. 

So, I forgave my mother.  I traded my hate for lightness.  Here's what I did:  I lit a candle and turned off my bedroom light.  I watched the flame of the candle, and tried to put everything else out of my mind--the loud city outside my window, my roommate in the bathroom, all of it.  

As I began whatever I was about to do (I didn't really know), I realized that I had to not just THINK the forgiveness, but I had to say the words, too.  So I found myself whispering.  I said things like I forgive you for hurting me.  I'm not going to carry this anger around after this moment.  I forgive your selfishness, your turning your back on me.  I forgive the world in which this pain happened. 

Whispering was essential.  And the formality--the candle--as simple as it was, was essential.  Every word I whispered to the candle I really, really meant and felt.  That act of forgiveness was a bargain I was making, a bargain of complete forgiveness in exchange for a bit of lightness.  A lot was at stake--I had felt the anger and disgust toward my mother for a very, very long time.  I was attached to that anger and disgust.  It had occupied a space in my heart for so long that it was actually like saying goodbye to a dear but crazy friend when it was time to let it go. 

I whispered the words, and cried and cried.  The relief was immense.  It was real.  I never looked back, I was propelled forward. 

Not surprisingly, other layers of emotion revealed themselves over the years, and there was of course more to think about and work through regarding my mother.  Much!  But the act of forgiveness of the abandonment specifically was a really important, freeing step for me.  And I learned that we're all built to self-heal.  

Don't Tell Me About Authority Figure Issues!

Authority figure issues anyone?  Oh, yes.  We've got them. 

I've posted before about our complicated relationship with authority figures (in college, it's professors, in the work world, it's our bosses, our new "moms" and "dads").  Mainly, I wrote about authority figure issues in the context of handling criticism but I also mentioned it in terms of our assets as children of alcoholics. 

How would you know if you have authority figure issues?  Well, you almost certainly have them if you grew up in an alcoholic household, because you were raised by an unreliable authority figure (with his or her own authority figure issues). Your first model of an authority figure was a problematic one. People with authority figure issues often have problems with their bosses, stemming from an inability to respect the position of authority their boss has.  People with authority figure issues will pick fights with people in positions of authority -- a cop, a teacher, a coach, or anyone who has the power to say "no," or tell someone what to do, such as a clerk, a waiter, or a ticket taker who seizes the food you brought into the movie theater.  

Know the saying "Question Authority"?  I used to see it on bumper stickers a lot in the 1980s.  I think it's an important concept. An ideal. I think kids should be able to question their parents' thinking, and feel free to do so. And I think employees should be empowered to question their bosses, and have open lines of communication between them.  However, questioning authority and inveighing against it are different, and it's important to know where the line between the two is -- and when your actions are productive and when they're counter-productive. 

I witnessed my father have more public arguments than I care to remember with people in positions of authority while I was growing up.  I hated being the girl whose father was creating a scene in public. And, of course, it was always the other guy who was the asshole. What I hope I've inherited is his confidence to confront others, but in a fashion that doesn't have dramatic consequences.  

Anyway, it took me a while (that is, years) to realize that I had my own issues with authority figures. I don't pick fights, I grapple with my issues internally.  I have a history of finding it hard to respect my bosses. I always start out liking them.  But over time, that liking feeling fades--and, soon, I start to see them as "real" people, real flawed people, and then I start to feel resentful, to feel shortchanged for having such an imperfect boss. I then find it hard to want to work hard for the person. Eventually, I caught on to my issue. I saw it for the pattern it was. I realized that bosses are imperfect, all of them, and that I better learn how to work effectively with them -- if I wanted their respect. 

It never occurred to me that bosses were human, imperfect.  I don't know why I should be so surprised that my bosses were flawed.  Of course they were.  Just like parents!  I'm sure that I was re-living an emotional drama from my childhood--the disappointment that I felt as a child when my parents failed me due to their flawed characters and lacking emotional wherewithal.  (That's why it helps, as parents, to 'fess up to your poor decisions, acknowledge to your children that you got mad or did a stupid thing -- it helps them categorize it, and contextualize it. And know you're human, and humans make mistakes.  Even human parents!) 

In any case, none of that is the point of this post.  Rather, this is: lately I've been reading a lot of books about raising children and caring for babies.  One book in particular inspired this post:  Unconditional Parenting, by Alfie Kohn.  It's not for children of alcoholics in particular, it's for anyone raising a child or children.  Kohn's belief, and experience, is that over-praising children backfires and creates insecure children.  He believes that if we tell children that they're "great" all the time, that we love them for doing their chores, being "good," or for sharing a toy, that they will come to rely on praise so much that they won't want to do things not tied to praise (they'll need praise to be motivated to do anything).  

Similarly, he talks about threats and use of authority, and how the use (or mis-use) of authority will always backfire. (Authority figure issues are always from childhood!)

He writes:

"When we make children feel powerless, forcing them to submit to our will, this often generates intense anger, and just because that anger can't be expressed at the moment doesn't mean it disappears."  And, "When we make children obey by force, threats, or punishment, we make them feel helpless.  They can't stand feeling helpless, so they provoke another confrontation to prove they still have some power.  And when do they learn how to use that power?  From us.  Not only does authoritarian parenting make them mad; it also teaches them how to direct that anger against another person.  Such children may grow up with a constant need to thumb their noses at authority figures."

I had to read that last line again when I saw it:  "Such children may grow up with a constant need to thumb their noses at authority figures."

For sure! 

I've always maintained that we distrust authority figures because we had untrustworthy authority figures in our childhood lives.  But the Kohn book illuminated something new for me:  we had parents who were rigid, controlling, authoritarian alcoholics (among other things) and they expected us to do what they said.  Maybe yelling at us achieved results in the short term, but in the long run, their yelling did us a disservice.  

Now we're faced with the task of disengaging from our authority figure issues.  

Perhaps the next time you bristle at feeling like you're being told what to do or you're irritated with someone in a position of authority, ask yourself who really has the issue - them, or you?  What end-result do you want - think about that. 

Perhaps the next time your child questions your authority, have the confidence and calm to allow them room to comfortably ask "Why?"  Nurture your child's sense of reason.  Explain your thinking.  (If you always tell them, "Because-I-say-so," that doesn't teach them much.)

As always, we can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Kindness garners better, longer-lasting results than hostility, always.  

--ae

Be Spontaneous, it will Bring You Joy

 

There are moments in which I feel terribly grateful that I didn’t break things apart in my life. Not that I’m itching to break things apart, but I think we all live with the occasional urge to flee the scene and dismantle our lives, jobs, friendships, or romantic relationships. These satisfying moments are fleeting, but they are also powerful—in them I know with complete certainty what is good in my life. And those moments prove my theory that it’s worth it to stick with things and not run from life. (And I don’t mean ‘stick things out,’ I mean stick with things, things that are good.) 

I often credit my old therapist with my current five-year long relationship because without her telling me, “Just wait and see how things are tomorrow, next week, next month…” I might have listened to the ‘jump out the door and pull your ripcord’ voice in my head. That therapist also helped me learn how to determine from where the voice originated—whether from a old, scared childhood place or from a new, adult, courageous one. More frequently the voice originating from a new, courageous place wins, and I am oh so grateful for that. The more I stick with things, the more valuable life skill I learn—like learning to work with coworkers or managers who have completely different work and communication styles from me (rather than quitting just because someone new was hired above me or because I don’t naturally get along with was transferred to my team).

I had a feeling grateful moment recently. And I learned something new about when life feels magical when it occurred. It was a sunny day, almost hot, with just a few cottony clouds. After running an errand in town, we spontaneously decided to take a drive to Sonoma to get Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Once we got to Sonoma, a short half-hour drive away, I realized that my relatives who were visiting the area might already have arrived at their hotel, and called them.*  My timing was good; they were just arriving at their hotel. We postponed the ice cream for the moment and walked through town to their hotel. We spent the next couple hours talking with my uncle and his wife, catching up on their lives, having coffee and wine, and sitting in the sun in one of the gardens of the hotel. When he became hungry, I fed my baby—outside in the sun under the clouds and the trees. What a joy. After a while, my relatives needed to take their naps, and we left to get our ice cream and sit in the park. As we drove back home, it hit me: the afternoon was perfect. 

I felt that sensation of welling up, not to cry nor to laugh, but a huge yet containable welling up of emotion. I was grateful for it and, I thought, “So glad I didn’t break things apart in my life,” and I was glad for having stuck with all the decisions I’ve made so far. Only by sticking with things can you feel the gratification of longevity. And therefore we could be there—we three, driving through the hills, a family.

But I’m analytical so I had to know, Why did it feel perfect? 

It felt perfect because it was all spontaneous. There was nothing controlled, or planned about the afternoon—just the errand we began with. And because nothing was orchestrated, there could be no expectations. If the exact afternoon had been planned ahead of time, the conversation wouldn’t have been enjoyable, we probably would have been running late (you’re on-time if things are spontaneous), and I’d be preoccupied by where I had to be next. It wouldn’t have felt ‘perfectly lazy’ because it wouldn’t have measured up to the plan, the expectations for it. (I think of these kinds of afternoons as “European,” always.) 

I’m convinced that our prescription for joy is healthy doses of spontaneity. Think about it. It’s not a waste of time, because an afternoon spent spontaneously will give you a feeling of being alive. Try it. 

It’s the best medicine. And you don’t need a prescription. 

--ae

*A note about the phone call to my uncle:  because I didn't want him to think that we'd driven to Sonoma to see them on their one day alone (we actually hadn't; we had plans to see them the next day, and the next), I made a point of telling him why we were in Sonoma. So I said,  "We're in Sonoma anyway, we came here to...run errands."  My fiancee nudged and me,  laughing, "Tell them why we're really here!"  And then I laughed and said, "Actually, correction:  we're here to get Ben & Jerry's ice cream, we're not here to run errands."  My uncle got a laugh out of that.  I'm not sure why I didn't want to admit to being there just for ice cream.  But it was the truth.  And refreshing to say it.  And of course I thought of the characteristic of children of alcoholics:  "Adult Children of Alcoholics lie when it is just as easy to tell the truth."  Why did I tell that silly lie? Was I embarrassed to admit we'd driven to another town to indulge in ice cream?  (Not really.)  Was it because I was worried about their not wanting to see us till the next day, that I felt the need to alter reality? (Yeah.)  Did I not think they'd believe that we were in town just for ice cream?  (Yeah, again.)  For some reason, I was really concerned they'd think we were barging in on them...even when we weren't.  That last bit comes from growing up in a family where appearances were incredibly important to maintaining the fiction of our family being 'just fine' when it wasn't.  

Are You Most Comfortable One-on-One?

Are you the kind of person who has always spent time with friends, family, or co-workers one-on-one, rather than in small groups

It seems to me that people tend to fall into two types, being either 'group' people or 'solo' people. I'm not naturally a group person. In the past I've never been one to suggest that a group do something together. "Let's all go to the movies!" Nope. That was not me. I'm drawn to the individual, because one-on-one time feels well-spent, by which I mean deeper, more interesting, and less superficial. 

But, as always, it's in my nature to double-check my assumptions, to do a 360 degree walk around my habitual behaviors, to investigate myself. So, when I began to wonder why is it that I have spent more time one-on-one than in groups, I came up with the answer that it's got to have something to do with growing up in an alcoholic household. 

People who grew up in a family that spent a lot of time with other families and extended families where lots of people-centered events took place will grow up to find themselves comfortable and naturally drawn to spending time in groups. They were raised that way!  (An image of a first-generation Italian family comes to mind -- food-centered and family-centered gatherings of people, with large amounts of hot, homemade food, jolly conversation, and laughter.) In any case, the alcoholic family isn't one like that -- alcoholic families tend toward isolation. An alcoholic family tends to breed loners. 

If we grew up in a family that was isolated because of its "illness" of alcoholism, then we're not going to be naturals at enjoying group events. Just the opposite; we tend to feel extra-awkward, lost, or left out and insecure in groups of three, or four, or more. We grew up uneasy with our own spontaneity. We haven't let our spontaneous self out to play very often, or not at all. We're out of practice, and some of us are likely afraid that if we let our real self loose, we'll be laughed at for being us, and ultimately be rejected. 

Guess what? It's harder to control one's spontaneity in group settings. Spontaneity is required for groups, and it's impossible to pretend to be what the other person seems to want when you're in a group setting.  (If you're a people-pleaser, then it's easier to be one-on-one and just reflect what the other person seems to need -- not so with groups of people. )

Small talk and large groups go together like pasta and garlic bread (i.e., they go together deliciously.) 

People from alcoholic families don't feel very talented at making small talk (brevity is even a challenge on Facebook).  Small talk is hard because we didn't do much of it in our families. Talk in our families was loaded with meaning, accusations, longing, and suggestions of betrayal.  And, so, we are hard-wired to REACT to what is being said to us. And, also, we never learned how to RELAX, stop reading things into every word people utter, and just have a simple, meaningless conversation.  Let's have more meaningless conversations, let's just simply enjoy one another's company!  Lighten up, laugh.  Let go of your old habit of unconsciously monitoring every conversation for threats to your safety. That's an old habit. 

So, why don't we hang out in groups more often, and let our spontaneity out to play? Why not say 'yes' next time you're invited out, or take initiative and invite a group of people to do something (don't worry what people will talk about or if they'll get along)? Wouldn't it be a relief to let go of your analytical, over-active mind, your self-checking apparatus, and have fun? 

I often admire eccentric, loud, or brash people -- not because I like them, but for their spontaneity. 

If you're a narcissist, this may be hard because one-on-one situations are best for captivating (or would that be monopolizing?) a person's attention entirely -- you only have to fight one person for the spotlight, not three or four. And it's harder to enjoy yourself in a group because you have to draw on skills that you infrequently use, like listening, having interest in what others have to say, and good conversation skills. But, do try it. 

You'll learn more about life listening than you will talking, I guarantee it. Listen with interest, not an agenda. This takes practice, incidentally! Get used to asking people "Why?" a lot, or "Really?" or just, "Yeah?" and waiting, quietly for the response. 

Shut off your head, and open your ears. 

We're growing up, bit by bit.

What I've been up to lately...

Creating life, a son! 

I promise I'll be back on Guess What Normal Is soon as I'm able... 

--amy eden

A Gift is Just a Gift - How to Not Meet Expectations

Right after Thanksgiving the holidays pounced on us, like it or not. And whether or not it's a religious holiday for you, everyone is expected to participate. Macy's, KMart, and Home Depot, and all the rest, will be sure that you don't forget: expectations are upon you.

That is, if you accept those expectations.

This holiday season I remembered a gift that my uncle once gave me. I was in seventh grade. It was a box of Wheaties. Yes, that orange-colored box with cereal in it. Healthy, and high in fiber (and preservatives). None of us believed it. "There must be a real gift inside...?" But the boxed was wrapped with wrapping paper--it was the gift. The top was sealed. "This must be a collector's edition...?" But there wasn't anyone significantly important on the box. "Hmmm." We concluded, "Must just be a box of cereal. Huh. That's weird." We chalked it up to his being in law school, and poor. And a bit quirky...anti-establishment.

Not only did I think about that box of Wheaties recently, several times, but realized that I was fantasizing about giving similarly cheap, odd gifts to my family this year. As if to say, "This is the best I could do this year, this gift will not complete you, and I hope you will be satisfied with what you already have."

100 Ways to Live Better Now

Here's a great list of actions--one hundred of them--we can take to improve our lives immediately. One hundred things makes for a long To Do list, but this one's inspiring, not defeating, and I like how the list is organized into types of things - ways to Stay on Task and be Productive, Staying Connected, ways to improve your mind, your body, your wallet, and the environment as well.

Enjoy:

One hundred ways to improve your life today.

Are You In Your Own Way?

From what frame of mind do you view your world?

The frame through which you view your world is made up of all your life experiences, your emotions, your education, relationship experiences, your social class, financial situation, and obviously your personal issues. You and one hundered other people, in the same situation, at the same gathering, post office, carnival, farmer's market, airport...will each interpret it differently. It's very hard if not impossible to exist objectively - and there's no reason to, unless you want to be a scientist and uncreative about it all. But it's important to consider what your point of view is made of. What's the frame through which you view and interpret the world composed of?

Any time you are in a situation (in line at the coffee shop) or in conversation, you are interpreting what's going on. Think about it. If you text or call your friend while you're waiting in line, you might comment on how inefficient the people behind the counter are, you might comment that the line is really long (but what's "long" given the time of day and amount of time you have and how good their coffee is? Probably the line feels longer if you have less time - that's subjective, an interpretation) or that your day is completely off-track because nothing has gone right, especially not this "quick" trip to the coffee shop. Plus, the jerks are out of your favorite scone. Of course! What a disaster.

Do you think everyone in line is having those same thoughts? Probably not. Look around you - how are the other people in line seeming to 'be' in this situation? At peace? Frustrated? Distracted? Reading? I don't know about you but I am amused by the people who look frustrated and irritated by the situation because they seem like victims of their own personal drama (and unnecessarily so!) Occasionally someone will turn to you, and say, "Can you believe the inefficiency of these people?! Remind me not to get my coffee here!" And it's often a surprise because strangers will be coming from a very different frame of mind than your own. Yet, we often do the polite thing and shake our heads, "Oh, yeah, I know." Unless you're honest enough to say, "I really like this place and I'm happy to wait." (Meanwhile, you interpret the other person as being uptight, and they interpret you as being unobservant.)

Anyway, my point is that while we're all in the same situation, we're not experiencing it the same because of what's in our heads and the frame through which we view the world. We're in totally different but identical realities.

CONTINUED...

October is Anti-Depression Month, Get Your Depression Basics Here

I would go ahead and declare October Depression Month, but I bet it has already been declared by some higher authority, psychologist, or (most likely) the marketing arm of a big pharmaceutical company.

I like Anti-Depression Month better anyway. 'Anti-depression' is encouraging and hopeful to my ear.

In this post I'll share the basics of depression symptoms and summary of many treatments, with links for further reading, like the Discovery Channel's Depression 101.

As always, and I will never had said this enough (I say this for me as much as you all): you owe it to yourself to get cardiovascular exercise every day and eat fewer high-producing foods as well. Heal from the inside-out.

If you're depressed, chances are you already know it. Being depressed is not a state of being to feel ashamed of. It happens--a lot, to a lot of people. Are you hesitating to seek treatment because you don't want to admit to yourself or a therapist or doctor that you're depressed? Depression is normal, and common, and the sooner that you admit you're depressed, the sooner you can work to feel better (then you'll wonder why you waited).

CONTINUED...

Fall is Here, You Depressed Yet?

Long ago I noticed that overcast days and Sundays were days on which I felt blue. And, oh God, a combination of the two--overcast and Sunday--was a guaranteed day of dreariness, during which I felt as if I had slabs of granite cuffed to my ankles.

Since fall is here, the days are going to get darker, cooler, and many of us are already worrying about what our brain is going to do to us now--will it let us fall into a horrible funk?

The grass is always greener: if you live in Iceland, fall is really, really, really dark and dreary. It's about as bad as it gets. I have spent time there during winter and it's hard to imagine what living through so much darkness would be like, year after year (once or twice is a novelty). In Iceland, you see the sun rise, partially, at 11 a.m. and set again at 3 p.m. It only partially rises, there's no high noon sun there, just a low sun. Most of us don't have it that bad, right?

As fall approaches, be ready to handle its affect on your mood. For starters, don't travel to Iceland if you're sensitive to darkness in the afternoon! Figure out what's going on (are you 'depressed' or DEPRESSED?), and take action to manage your mental state. This may mean adding exercise and modifying your diet for some people and medication and therapy for others -- in all cases, it'll require a forgiving, nurturing frame of mind.

CONTINUED...

Read Before Eating: Simple Ways to Educate Yourself about Food

You are what you eat, just like you are what you think. What you put into your body will be reflected by your body, and your mind.

Eating becomes an act of love as soon as you begin to educate yourself about what you're putting in your body. (The food manufacturers don't care about your health like you do. They care about making a buck - your hard-earned buck.) For a meaningful book about eating and emotions, I really like Geneen Roth's When Food is Love - but, to be honest, I recommend all of her books.

Geneen Roth's Eating Books

We all need to make changes to how we eat. That is a constant. The idea is to make small changes, nothing drastic. The idea is to succeed in adopting healthy habits. For example, if you don't exercise and you want to start a running routine, then start walking fast first. Add the running bit by bit. If you want to cut your caloric intake to loose some weight, then make small changes (eat one cookie not two, eat half a sandwich, not a whole one, or skip dessert and have tea instead half the time, etc.)

CONTINUED...

5 Tips for Coping with Commitment Issues (Theirs)

Some people find this blog through Google searches, others find it through Wikipedia, or a link they find on a related site. Last week, I clicked around in my stats to see what Google searches brought people here. I noticed a pattern (I was hoping for that): the word "commitment." Completely shocking that one of us would have questions about commitment, isn't it?

Commitment, by definition, is a pledge, promise, or agreement to engage in something. Committing to something means we made (or they made) a promise to follow-through. Words like commitment, engage, and promise are real and definite; would it surprise you that anyone who battles alcoholism or a similar addiction might have issues with commitment? Promises kept are not an alcoholic's strength.

They're not ours, either. We, just like alcoholics, have issues with promising ourselves. Partly because we've done more promising of ourselves than we ever intended to do (beyond our boundaries) and partly because we were raised by a role model who had issues with commitment -- we're like them by nurture.

CONTINUED...

Criticism, You Can Take It - Your Issues at Work Part III

There are all kinds of criticism. Three main types are regular criticism, constructive criticism, and unproductive criticism. The first two types can be helpful to your professional growth and fairly easy to cope with. The last one can occasionally be hurtful, but can sometimes be useful if you learn how to extract the helpful information from it.

Most people value criticism given to them from people they trust and admire. It's more of a challenge to have an open mind about criticism given to you from a manager, boss, or supervisor -- mostly because we, as adults from alcoholic families, tend not to trust authority figures. Sure, we have good reason not to have trusted the original authority figure in our lives, but need we apply that to all authority figures? I don't think so. Remember, everyone is human, has their strengths and weaknesses -- including your manager. (If you dislike your manager, ask yourself if that attitude is in some way 'protecting' you from having to look at yourself more closely and make changes to your approach to work. It may well be that your attitude is keeping you from growth that you badly need.)

Let's say that you are someone who, for whatever reason, does not always meet deadlines. If your supervisor were to talk to you about this, she might say (using regular criticism): You're inconsistent with making deadlines.

If she were to refer to this issue using constructive criticism, she'd say, "I suggest you start to give yourself double the time you think you need to complete tasks, so that you can always get them done on time and meet deadlines," or something like that.

The key difference between regular criticism and constructive criticism is that constructive criticism offers a solution.

If you're supervisor said, "You never make deadlines and you're making me look bad," well, that would be the unproductive brand of criticism.

CONTINUED...

a short story

A friend recently sent me this short story; I hope his story resonates with you as much as it did with me.

* * *

I went to the cape this weekend. I packed up some miscellaneous camping supplies, threw my surfboard on the roof, charged up my ipod and hit the road.

I didn’t really want to call Rose. I know she’s as sweet as can be, but she just brings back nothing but memories of my old man. And unfortunately, for me, those are mostly bad. When she didn’t show up at my fathers funeral she sent me a consoling email. We went back and forth a few times – me somehow telling her I’d come visit. It’s not like I didn’t want to - I did, I just didn’t want to deal with all that went along with the encounter. I’d avoided all such encounters for over 2 years before my father died. I got busy and moved to California so I thought I was off the hook even though I know that’s just my head talking. But then I moved back. I felt obligated but also felt that maybe it would do me some good to actually face up to my fears. Experience has shown me that it really does help in the long run.

STORY CONTINUES...

Making a Decision? 10 Questions to Ask Yourself

We make decisions all the time, some small, some large -- asking someone out on a date/accepting a date, joining a club, moving, looking for a new job, breaking-up, changing your hairstyle, joining a gym, having a difficult conversation/confrontation, going to a party, buying a computer or car, or going on a trip, buying groceries, making new friends...

Decisions abound!

To make good decisions, "good" being what's right for you right now, you need to know yourself, respect your boundaries, and be willing to stretch your comfort zones.

Stretching your comfort zones is healthy because it adds variety and newness to your life experience. So, if you're not very social, if you isolate easily, then you should say yes to plans that include social activities and anything that gets you out of the house. And if you hate committing yourself to plans because you enjoy having the flexibility of doing 'whatever-whenever,' try committing yourself to one thing that you know you can satisfy.

It's just as important to protect your boundaries, that which keeps you feeling calm and content. Say you know that you tend to say yes to everyone and everything then, consequently, feel stressed-out and over-committed--then it's best to be aware of this, slow down, and say 'no.'

Here are some questions you can ask yourself when faced with making the next decision that comes your way (or just consult the new magic 8 ball):

1. Do you feel impulsive about this decision - are you obsessing over it? If so, you must take a break from it. Don't get caught in the clutches of imagined pressure -- take control, detach.

2. If you feel you need to make a decision quickly, why?

3. What impact might delaying the decision have on the outcome, if any?

CONTINUED....

Still Blaming Others for Your Lot in Life?

Ask yourself, have you totally gotten on with your life and stopped blaming other people, your parents, for your problems?

Here's the way I look at it. I'm not saying you should adopt my mind frame, but I'm offering it up to you because it's helped me a lot. My parents were responsible for how they raised me, treated me, talked to me, etc. while I was in their care, until I left for college. At that point, once I left for college, I became my own charge, my own responsibility, and my own parent. I was the one responsible for me then. Once we leave home, we became the one single person responsible for figuring out who we are, who we want to be, how to be a good person, and how to acquire the tools to do all that. I think that to blame anyone else at this point is a decision to stop evolving; you'll get stuck.

For sure, it's unfortunate that we got a less than ideal foundation laid for us by our family. And it's unfortunate that we don't have the kind of support and encouragement from our family that we see other people receiving. But, there's nothing we can do about that. There is nothing we can do about the childhood we had, it is what is was. Sure, you can complain and blame, but don't spend too long doing that or you'll lose out on creating a life you want to enjoy and participate in. (Far as I know get just one of these lives, so I want to make it count.)

CONTINUED...

Alltop, a New Place to Find Information about Recovery

Guess what? I received an email from Guy Kawasaki, author of The Art of the Start, this week. He wanted to let me know that Guess What Normal Is has been added to the recovery section of Alltop.com, a "digital magazine rack." How nice! (Thanks, Alltop!) You can see the recovery section of the site HERE.

Alltop is a website that offers another way to find information. Alltop's wish is that we get to skip the searching and searching and searching part of finding information. I looked through the Alltop site, which I think of as "all" the "top" information you care to read. The site, which is an information clearinghouse, or aggregator, has a lot of promise. I'm glad to be part of it. The site presents an alternate way to find pre-organized information you may want to read--news and blogs. Alltop is organized in the same way we'd organize information in our own lives (if we were that organized).

I can imagine visiting Alltop when I'm seeking just the "top" blogs and news on a specific topic (this takes trust, buy Guy has mine). It's an appreciated alternative when you're wanting to avoid an overwhelming Google search that delivers thousands of results (I know that I don't always have that kind of time or patience.)

What I like best is being able to "window shop" the site--you can just roll over the data with your cursor and get a previews of what's there without having to commit and click into the links.

They're building up the site now, so you can expect to see more topics and categories as it grows.

Unhappy Customers: Your Issues, at Work II

Unhappy customers are a fact of work.

I've been waiting in this line for an hour! Can I speak to the manager?! Are you people doing this for the first time?! Are you alive? I've emailed you for weeks - I deserve at least an explanation! Why are your prices so high? Why can't you get my delivery there? Aren't you a little young for the level of expertise required? Why didn't you give my son an A? You're late. Again. I said 'Non Fat, No Whip'!

How do you react to an unhappy customer? Do you think you're being blamed? Do you feel guilty, embarrassed, blamed, at fault, or frightened? Do you want to solve the problem as soon as possible just to get it over with?

Unhappy customers? It's not personal. Here's how to keep your cool.

CONTINUED...

Your Issues, at Work

You spend a lot of time at work. I do. Too much. So, it's likely that one or two of our issues would get in the way during the work day, right? I mean, it's not as if we can stop being people from less-than-perfect childhood homes and turn into emotionless robots at work, right? Too true.

So, what are our issues at work and how can we keep them out of the way of getting our jobs done?

Continued...