September 2009

Bergen & Associates Counselling is 10 years old today! Brian, Lynn and Gary surprised us with cake to celebrate.  A day with a Jeanne's cake is a good day! What a fun way to acknowledge the day!

Of course, it looked a lot different 10 years ago than it does today. September 29, 1999, there was one office, which I used only about 2 or 3 hours per week.  The furniture was different, the walls were bland, and I was new to being in private practice.  I was at a life stage where I had little time to let others know what I was doing.  I was working ½ time at Misericordia Health Center while the practice was building and busy in the rest of my life. It was a deliberately slow start.

Over time, my life has changed, and so has the practice.  We now have 4 offices to see clients in 2 different locations, with charmingly designed space designed to feel comfortable, cozy, and safe, yet fresh and light.  There are 7 therapists providing excellent quality therapy to our clients, including an intern in a program that we have had set up for 4 years now.  We have an office manager/intake coordinator who looks after the bookkeeping, administration, and client inquiries and bookings.

Our clients tell us that they are feeling more empowered in their decision making, less anxious, and better able to relate to the important people in their lives.  We work with numerous agencies with our anger management program, helping clients meet their court and employer mandated requirements for beginning to deal with their anger.  Transforming Destructive in Constructive program manages to educate people about their anger, challenge inappropriate behavior, and gently come alongside participants as they deal with some painful parts of themselves that they protect with anger.  The Family Violence Protection Program which facilitates the shelters, second stage housing, and resource centers in the province consult with us about clinical issues.  We provide workshops to them around topics which are of concern.  The work of helping those who struggle with violence in their lives is difficult…we seek to encourage and empower the staff of these programs as they continue to do this challenging work on an ongoing basis.
 

None of this would have been possible without the encouragement and support of our office neighbors at our Pembina Location.  Reimer Advertising is owned by friends of mine…they had an empty office that they let me hang out in the first years.  The rental arrangement allowed me to start a very part time practice. Toni was the receptionist for the other business and took the time away from her other duties to answer my phone when it would ring in those early years.
	Then, over time, as my space needs grew, and technology made their space needs less, Reimer Advertising let me begin to take up more space.  They have been absolutely fantastic to work with, and have, during times which I have had huge demands on me personally, been incredibly compassionate towards me.  They have demonstrated patience and commitment that will always be a lifelong example to me.  Thanx to Gary, Brian, and Lynn. I will always be unspeakably grateful to you for your kindness and support.

In addition to incredible moments of healing and growth with clients, I have other fond memories of this place from the last 10 years.  Here are just a few:

• the “mid-winter summer picnics” that we used to have, when we were so tired of the cold.  We would put out the gingham tablecloth on the floor, put the sound of waves on the beach on the nearest Mac, each bring cucumber sandwiches, devilled eggs, or potato salad, and enjoy the feast.  One year we even had plastic ants, and lit a citronella candle as we sat on the floor in beachwear.
• the celebration of Reimer Advertising’s anniversary where we went to Tavern in the Park and ate in the tower high above the restaurant in Assiniboine Park.  Others who arrived first decided they felt like royalty waving off the balcony as the rest of us came.  The dinner was so much fun up there.
• the Christmas potlucks where all bring an assortment of food native to their Christmas celebrations.  We close the office early on that day and together enjoy some fun and quietness after the rush of the Christmas preparations.  Oh…and then there’s a gift exchange that requires creatively recycyling something from home…the rules of the game are something that are debated and worked out—takes longer than the game some years!
• our therapist meetings happen on a Saturday afternoon every couple of months…over the years, in addition to ensuring that professional matters are attended to, we’ve had baby showers, bridal showers, good-bye and welcome celebrations.
  

We’ve come a looooong way in 10 years.  It feels really good to be a part of this place. I am humbled when I hear the stories therapists tell me about the change and growth that happens in our clients.  I love hearing how clients find a sense of safety and comfort as they interact with us as therapists, and how that creates room for greater insight.  That insight allows for peace of mind, release of painful feelings, and an ability to move forward with a greater awareness of one’s own potential and abilities. I am thrilled with what happens here.  I enjoy coming to work every morning and the people I work—clients and therapists—have a lot to do with that.

This morning, Melanie, our office manager, gave me some flowers in honor of the occasion.  The card said:  "Wishing you and your clients continued growth”.  Thanx Melanie, and may it be so.

Mackenzie Phillips dropped a bombshell last week that has horrified her family, shocked a lot of people, and given childhood incest survivors an ability to hear their own experience and story through the story of another.  The first minute of so of this tape is particularly powerful:

On the 'Early Show', she said: "I was hoping to help incest survivors and find some redemption and freedom," she said on the "Early Show." "I never expected this huge national dialogue. I never expected the rape and incest network to have a 82 percent rise in hits on their website a 26 percent rise in telephone calls."
Last week on Oprah, she read a portion of her book in which she told her experience of waking up from a blackout to find her father having sex with her.  While she initially labelled it rape, her father was surprised to hear her say that...with him declaring that they were "making love".  The incest lasted 10 years.  Of that time, Mackenzie says:

"It became a consensual relationship over time, and I know that I can't be the only one this has happened to," Mackenzie says. "Nobody's talking about this, and someone needs to put a face on not only nonconsensual incest but consensual incest, because I know it exists."

I'd have to say that I quite agree with the following line:

"What struck me most about Mackenzie Phillips' interview," psychotherapist Robi Ludwig told CBS News "is that she's still protecting her father. By calling incest consensual incest, she's still protecting the person who abused her. ... But you can't say it's consensual, because there's always a power imbalance when it comes to a parent and child."

What is helpful about Mackenzie's story is the her implication that at some point she felt she valued the sexual relationship and joined in with it. In my experience in working with survivors of childhood sexual abuse, perhaps the most shameful and hidden horror of the abuse is that the child at some level was made to feel special by the abuse, and so in part, came to welcome it in a life that was otherwise difficult and lonely.  Other times, during times of repeated sexual abuse, a child's body is awakened to a powerful sexual response--it is degrading to hate the sexual experience and want it to end only to find one's body aroused and wanting more.  It is part of the perpetrator's twisted and sinister strategy to have the child believe that s/he wants it and is an active participant.  The child is made to believe that the abuse is part of the way special love is shown to him/her that makes the abuse something to be seen as a sign of privilege.  As the child, in part, is convinced that s/he is welcoming the abuse (even while another part of the child is silently screaming for it to stop), the child begins to feel like an active accomplice in the abuse.

The act of shameful betrayal--to find some part of body or heart welcoming the sexual contact--is something that sexual abuse and incest survivors struggle with.  It is the unspoken horror--with the survivor's assumption that if others knew of it, the survivor would be known to be as sick and sinister as the perpetrator. The agony of this shame is unspeakable, and therefore, not spoken of.

Mackenzie Phillips opened the door to have people begin to dare to speak...to have a voice...to dare to begin to talk about it...to begin to speak out and heal.  I can only hope that her story continues to impact those who struggle with all of the hidden and secret pain of sexual violation at the hands of those that were meant to protect.

“Wabi-sabi”--I happened to come upon the term today, which a totally cool concept I stumbled across.  Of the Japanese term, Wikipedia says this:

Richard R. Powell summarizes by saying "It (wabi-sabi) nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect."….. Fading autumn leaves would be an example. Wabi sabi can change our perception of our world to the extent that a chip or crack in a vase makes it more interesting and give the object greater meditative value.

I’m lovin the term, because of the freedom gives us to enjoy life as it presents itself imperfectly…and to celebrate the beauty of the chips and cracks of life.  It takes the pressure off of a person to “be perfect” and allows them to “be real”.

With people who expect perfection, I have occasionally given the suggestion that they try an experiment:  to do a “B+” job of something—that they are to make every effort, to, under no circumstance, allow themselves to get an “A+” at the task.

Typical possible example:
Like say, a woman is overwhelmed with the family gathering that she does every Thanksgiving—the full meal deal.  It’s important to her that she host the event, but doing so takes everything she’s got and more. So I suggest the gathering be done at a “B+” level.  Her eyes go round, bug out a little, she has a sharp intake of breath—she looks at me like I’ve suggested she go to Mars.

In her desire to give therapy “a shot”, and in her discomfort of her current situation where trying to do everything perfectly is driving her to exhaustion, failure, and guilt, she agrees to give it “a go”.  Letting me know with a subtle look in her eye she think I’m unreasonable, unfair, ridiculous, and well, maybe even just plain nuts—and that I’ve just set her on a course of certain doom.

The following week…this story: She only baked one kind of pie instead of the usual 4 kinds—and so wasn’t as tired.  She put less effort into making the table look ABSOLUTELY perfect—and so slept better the night before because she wasn’t worried about if the tissue paper turkey tails didn’t fluff up on the place cards.  She wasn’t so worried if the usually critical uncle had a good time—he generally chooses not to, and not forcing a good time out of him was one way to fulfill the “B+”.  When the turkey juices spilled on the counter as she was getting ready to make the gravy, she took a deep breath and then…giggled—the others let out their breath and joined in.  And she enjoyed her day.  And the others enjoyed the day as they watched their hostess enjoying hers.

With a smile on her face she says: “I get it.  I did what you said to try.  And it didn’t work.  It was the best Thanksgiving I ever hosted.  We all had an A+ time because I did a B+ job.”

Almost inevitably part of the beauty is relaxing and enjoying the magic of what is created by being together, and experiencing the moment for what it is, not what you strain to make it to be.

Various cultures have tried to reinforce this pattern:

• Religious Persian rug-makers deliberately wove, into each rug, a flawed stitch. This "Persian flaw" was a means of silently, but assuredly, proclaiming the rug-maker's belief that only God's creations are perfect.
• The quilter's humility square is a purposely mis-pieced square.  It is a reminder to the quilter, and others, that only God is perfect, and only God can create something that is perfect.
• Native American beaders would always include one bead that didn't fit the pattern they were working, to indicate that only the Great Spirit or Creator was perfect.  This is known as the “spirit bead”.
  

Doncha love the idea? Put the mistake in on purpose so it’s not perfect...know you're going to mess it up from the "get go"…and relax cuz the pressure is off.  Recognize that perfection for us mere mortals is beyond our reach—and to pursue it is to pretend to be Someone we’re not.

See the beauty of the imperfections of life that are inevitable—see them for what they are—testaments to the “Persian flaws” in your life.  Opportunities for you to experience grace from yourself and others…to be reminded that you’re wonderfully human. A chance to remind yourself to chuckle and accept yourself for who you are, and, with a gentle smile (or even a chuckle) to move on.

Enjoy the wabi-sabi of your life today.

When the urgent takes precedence over the important in our lives, we lose ourselves in the process. The pace of our lives can stop us from being who we know we are, who we really want to be.

I was listening to a discussion the other day regarding a study outlined by Malcolm Gladwell in his book The Tipping Point, done by psychologists at Princeton Seminary.  Eric Nehrlich writes of it like this:

They asked each seminarian "to prepare a short, extemporaneous talk on a given biblical theme, then walk over to a nearby building to present it. Along the way to the presentation, each student ran into a man slumped in an alley, head down, eyes closed, coughing and groaning. The question was, who would stop and help?" (p. 164) The researchers included three variables: (1) the background of the subject - whether they had entered seminary as a way of helping people or not, (2) which parable they were to prepare - several were given the Good Samaritan parable as their subject, and (3) a time context, saying either that they were running several minutes late and should hurry up, or that they were early and had some time to spare.

The results were astonishing, at least to me. The first two variables had no effect. Whether somebody had devoted their life in service to their fellow man, or even whether they had just been reminded of the value of altruism by preparing a speech on the Good Samaritan [a story which celebrates the one who stops to help a wounded and traumatized man at the side of the road], had no effect on whether they stopped and helped. "The only thing that really mattered was whether the student was in a rush. Of the group that was, 10 percent stopped to help. Of the group who knew they had a few minutes to spare, 63 percent stopped." (p. 165)

The researchers checked which variable would make the difference to see who stopped to help the needy--background, sermon text, and so on--none, except the amount of time, was found to be significant.  The amount of time a student had made a huge difference to how well they were able to live according to their values.

It is ironic that people preparing for the ministry, and committed to spending their lives in services to others would be so eager to deliver a message on being the Good Samaritan, that they don’t take the time to be a Good Samaritan.  I feel a wry smile cross my face at the thought.

There is a growing discomfort in the dawning realization that if I was in that situation, I suspect that I would be among the 90% who would not stop in the rush to get there on time.  The discomfort grows as I reflect upon the last week, rushing from client to lecture to meeting to carpool, that I have missed moments that were important. 

• I drove past the lemonade stand at the corner near my home…I like to support small business—and lemonade stands are the smallest of businesses by little people who could use the encouragement.  I was too busy to stop.
• I was invited out for coffee by friends I’d like to get to know better—grocery shopping was calling my name so I declined.  When might I get another opportunity?
• Reminds me of a spouses I’ve met who love their mates dearly, but by the time put in 60 hours at the office, volunteer at the club, help out their parents, and go for a round of golf, there is nothing left…and there is no way for the mate to know that their presence is truly valued.
• Does it remind you of a relationship or value which is important to you, but someone looking at  your life might never guess because of the lack of focus on it?
  

So today, as I was thinking about blogging about this, I was tired and had a headache and we had no milk in the house.  I thought about jumping in the car to dash out to get some (so I could get my tasks done sooner), and then reminded myself of the beautiful evening and how much I enjoy these evenings and how rare these evenings are this time of year.  As I started out on foot for the jaunt to the corner store, I felt the fresh breeze on my face, and realized that it helped clear my head, and it didn’t hurt so much.  I ended up taking a creative route to the store to enjoy the beauty of the evening, and landed up at home feeling refreshed. It was worth the time.

I’m not all the way there…but I’m committed to the process of continuing to work to create the space in my life to allow me to live the life that feels synchronous with my values and my being.  To be able to be transparent about what is important to me because that is how I live my life.  To be able to have the free space in my life to be open to opportunities that are unexpected and delightful, that fit with who I am, that can take the time to show the important people in my life that I am available and responsive to them.

I’m not all the way there…but I’m working on it.  Join me in the journey to match your lifestyle with who you are!  Create the time to live the life you know you want to live.

My brain was successfully escaping the fact that it is mid-fall. I've been in denial, pleasantly so.

That hasn't been hard to pull off, actually.  The beautiful weather would have us all believe it is still summer.  I see the warm sun streaming down the window, see clients come in to session with tank tops and shorts, and feel the heat on my face as I leave the office.

Today after work, I declared it a "Big Gulp" sort of day--the rare day in September when it is warm enough after work that I could justify the trek to 7-11 to grab a gulp.  This furthered my ability to continue with my fantasy that we are still mid-summer.

Then, I saw it:

Couldn't believe it.  Suddenly I felt like the woman in the KFC commercial who freaks out at the first golden leaf that falls to her feet.  This tree isn't starting to turn it's leaves...it's leaves have completed changing their colors.  There it was, on my way to capture another summer memory of a Gulp.  Couldn't believe it (said that already, right? Tells you how shocked I was)  Well, I still couldn't--or didn't want to--believe it.

Wanted to not see it.  Wanted to think that maybe if I looked close, the leaves were just really very light green.  Not.

Hadn't noticed it changing colors, so it seemed impossible this tree could have started, and finished changing colors to fall yellow without my noticing.  I see this tree every day when I drive by it.

Reminds me of clients that come to see me.  People going along in their lives when something happens that is significant and they manage to explain it away.  It seems out of context, it isn't pleasant, and it's seems more real to ignore it than pay attention to it:

"I'm not happy in this marriage and we need to do something about it".  (She doesn't probably mean it like it sounds...things haven't really changed that much over the years and she didn't say this 5 years ago)
or
 Your child's grades start slipping, at first just a bit, and he seems a little thinner, spends more time in his room, and when the teacher calls to express concern you're inclined to think the teacher is looking for problems where there aren't any
or
The lump in your breast (or testicle) doesn't really feel that big...it doesn't hurt, and you're pretty busy right now...your inclination is to wait a while to see if it goes away...it can't really be real...it would be surreal if it was

Right...ignoring oughtta work.  At least it will feel better. 

Actually...take a deep breath when something unusual and unpleasant comes up.  Take a second sober look, and deal with what it really happening.  Look at it straight on for what it is--or isn't.  Gather information, get a second opinion, stay calm--but stay real, and ready to take action.

I think it's time for me to make sure I've got my mittens out. ;)

To those who raise us up so we can stand on mountains:
    The mom who wears the handmade beaded jewelry from Mother’s Day all year long
    The teacher who tells the kid in the back of the room who has long ago learned that she "doesn't have the stuff" that he thinks the kid should try out for the lead in the school play
    The newly engaged woman who blogs this about her fiancée: Love is:  “someone hugging you and you can tell that how hard they're holding you is as much as they want you to feel that they love you, or that they're sad you're sad, or that they're happy you're happy. and it's knowing that when you hug them you're trying to convey the same message.”

To those who raise us up so we can walk on stormy seas:
    To the young couple who slips a newly single mom a large cheque as a ridiculous act of generosity…giving her hope of someone who cares, and ensuring there will be groceries purchased and bills paid for that first awful and terrifying month alone.
    To the therapist who was the first reliable man in a client’s life--who listened to her without any other purpose that wanting to hear what she had to say.  That changed her forever—she’s better able to face life’s challenges.
    To a blogger who is willing to share her ongoing story of supporting a son with multiple health challenges—and then allows us the privilege to let us in on the tragedy when her son dies—her strength in her stormy seas gives courage to others as they face theirs
 
To those raise us up to more than we can be:
    To a man who, while not be biologically related to a child (who has a workaholic father), but at an emotional level becomes a dad to him because there is something that the man sees in the kid that is irresistable--and the boy can feel it and relaxes into the love of the relationship
    To the boss who says, “I’m not going to sign the deal.  You’re gonna handle this one on your own.  I believe in you.”
    To the coach who finds ways of squeezing one more kid onto the team, knowing how much it will mean, and finds ways to play her—including taking the shot to win the game.

To those who challenge us, inspire us, believe in us, love us—Thank you for raising us up.
We are more than we were, more than we might have thought we could be...because of you.

I can almost smell the fresh wood shavings (off of newly sharpened Laurentian pencial crayons) this time of year as school starts as I remember the years of loving those brand new tall pencil crayons waiting for projects to color.  The smell of fresh plastic with the carboflourocarbons (or whatever they are called) wafting off a new pencil case as I loaded and reloaded it with pencils, pens erasers, and whatever else I could fit.  Ahhh…the smells of fall.

This week has been the start of new things.  Roshonna Plett started with us at Bergen and Associates Counselling.  She is an intern from Providence College and Seminary who is doing an SCE (supervised clinical education) with us this year.  She will be seeing about 6-8 clients per week.  I meet with her for one hour per week as she asks me questions that beginning therapists have. She’s off to a great start. We are fortunate to have her work with us.  Her work allows us to offer quality therapy at a reduced rate for clients who are otherwise unable to afford it.  I always appreciate the chance it affords me as she presents scenarios, trys out ideas, and challenges me on questions that I have to force myself to think through—it sharpens me.

I was at CMU  (Canadian Mennonite University) this afternoon for a couple of hours speaking with the staff of the Outtatown Program, a really cool program that allows students a year of university adventure that challenges body, brain, heart and soul.  Students spend the fall learning in Canada at various centers and then leave in the new year for several months in South Africa or Guatemala where they experience the culture, eat the food, live with and get to know and respect the people, and do some work to help out with projects that are ongoing.  I work with them as a clinical consultant—the program stretches students to grow.  Occasionally, the student can have difficulty with  a personal issue.  Though the staff is incredibly experienced and well equipped for their tasks, sometimes a conversation with a professional counsellor is helpful and that is where I came in.  Today I told them about some basic principals of relating to students in crisis, and how to handle their own souls in the midst of a challenging job that is 24/7.  I loved seeing their enthusiasm and energy for what was going to happen in their lives and the lives of the students as they seek the face of God.

What struck me about both of these beginnings is the questions that people have around boundaries—especially important when starting something off.  People who are naturally caring need to ensure that they are helping without taking over. Wanting to do a good job, and not letting the one’s own eagerness get in the way of the client doing good work.  Anxious to help a client, and being careful to focus on a client’s issues in counselling, not taking care of her own anxiety.  That’s a tough one—we all want to do a good job and see a client really succeed—the temptation can be to overfunction for a client and push them in a good direction to ease one’s own concern for needing them to do well.  That’s not fair to the client, nor is it respectfully allowing a client to move forward at their own pace. And the practical questions about sensitively asking about self-harm, allowing a client to get comfortable even if that means allowing the conversation to jump from topic to topic at a more superficial level than we often do.  Even how to take care of oneself as a caregiver when one is exposed to difficult painful stories of those we work with—compassion fatigue is something that we need to talk about so that people can be energized for this work in the long haul.

The work of facilitating growth in another is an awesome task that requires continual seasoning and careful care of one’s own soul.  Helping others begin well gives me a chance to be reminded of basic core beliefs, theories, and approaches that has me feeling more energized to do the work I do with clients.

I may not be needing pencil crayons or a new pencil case this year, but I am ready for the challenges in a new way!

The implications of “knowing” what to expect after a mistake ripple.

All this blogging about mistakes reminded me of an incident that occured some time ago. I realize that most of life isn’t this obvious, and that the back and forth of relationships produce much more subtle exchanges, but it will allow me to illustrate something that I think about with regards to why we fear mistakes so much:

I was helping to host a birthday part for a 7 year old child's birthday party…mostly of boys.  You can imagine the energy and noise level of the room—double that, and you’ll come close.  The time came for the boys to sit down for hot dogs, chips and drinks…the chosen menu of most birthday boys that age.

Just because they’re sitting down to eat, doesn’t actually mean they’ll eat.  They don’t, really.  Much too excited about being together at this occasion—too much joking around, too much trying to impress the others with bravado, too much giggling to take time to eat.  But they putter with their food and the noise goes on (and when they calm down at home right after the party, they eat cereal cuz they're starving).  These boys are not sitting still…they struggle to remain in their chairs, but they alternate between being on their knees and sitting down—lots of wriggling and jiggling…it’s the stuff of seven year old birthday parties the world over.

One more crucial ingredient to that occasion and this story…”swamp water”.  Oh, the passionate cleverness and bravery little boys have as they don’t want coke, orange pop, 7-up or root beer—they want a mixture of it all.  Being courageous enough to have swamp water with it's unknown combination of flavors has boys imagining themselves adventurous as "Indiana Jones".  Having already anticipated this request, I fancy myself one step ahead of them, and have a pitcher at hand, ready to make “swamp” (when you’re 7 and cool, you don’t even say the “water” part) in bulk, to increase efficiency of serving.

I’m watching the table full of little boys, pretending to eat, but really having the time of their lives…when it happens.  In the joyful exuberance of childhood, one child tells a story using his arms for emphasis, and the his cup of swam goes flying.

This is inevitable.  I get that.  Not a matter of “if” a spill happens, but really a matter of “when”.  I am prepared.  I have a towel over my shoulder at the ready, for exactly this moment.

The cup, on its side, with the liquid spreading rapidly is on the other side of the table from where I am standing.  I grab the towel over my shoulder and reach quickly across the table—I’m going to try to catch the spreading mess before it starts to seep over the edge of table onto the chairs, floor and all over little boys.

That’s when the crux of this story happens.  The offending little boy who has just spilled his drink sees my outstretched arm swooping towards his general direction, and he cries out and shrinks back--hard and quickly making himself very small and very distant--well out of my arm's reach.

He thinks I’m taking a swing at him.  He assumes I’m furious at the spill, and I’m going to make him pay.  He cringes, waiting to be struck.

In a split second, it’s over.  The towel gets spread over the spill, my hand well short of him, and he realizes he’s safe.  The birthday boy sitting next to him, bless his soul, calmly says to him, “Don’t worry.  We all mistakes.” And the event continues.

Somewhere in that little boy’s life, he learned to be frightened of grownup’s arms swooping towards him, in a way his little companion has not.  He knows how to take reflexive action to reduce the possibility of him being hurt by reacting hard and fast to get himself out of harm’s way.  He learned mistakes aren’t safe--and now he reacts to all mistakes in a frightened way.

Some observations (as only a therapist can):
-the little boy overlearned the principal, and was applying it to situations that felt dangerous, but really weren’t.  There was no way he could know that it wouldn’t have occurred to me to hurt him for the spill.  Don’t think he had a chance to learn that day, as, for all he knew, he wasn’t hit because he jumped aside successfully. How can he learn that? (The world, in fact, does sometimes take a swing at mistakes--for sure...but statistically, violence is far less likely to happen than some sort of other response.  The birthday boy recognizes this...and for him, the world is a very different place.  Two very different ways of responding to a mistake--one anxiety filled and fearful, the other relaxed and calm).

-the little boy may spend a lifetime jumping away from things that are fearful…what will he miss out on as he jumps aside. He may keep himself safe, but what opportunities will pass him by?

-the effect on the other is powerful.  To every action, there is a reaction, and a reaction to that.  I felt awful to know that my actions had terrified the little guy.  I felt badly, and had to process the bad feeling I had inside--I didn't like to see him cringe away from me--it took a while before I realized (and I could so easily in this situation because of its clarity) that he wasn't cringing from ME...but from previous experiences.  What if it hadn't been so obvious...the other walks away confused and guilty at having hurt someone they care about--but unclear as to what they did wrong.

-the effect on the other is powerful.  I was much more gentle for the rest of the event with him, knowing now, how easily he could be frightened.  What kind of effect would that have on others when there is such a fear of being punished by the other after a mistake? People will change how they respond to him, not joke or challenge him, perhaps let him get away with little errors (which sets him up for bigger ones) and so on.

-carrying it one step further...in a marriage, when one sees the other one shrink back to avoid punishment...it feels like distancing.  When a spouse watches the other distance for reasons unknown, then, quite frankly, the most common response is anger..."Why are you pulling away from me? How dare you pull away when I am reaching out to you!".  And then...the reason for the withdrawal is confirmed and the prophecy of danger-anticipation is fulfilled..."I knew it was dangerous.  I knew she'd be mad at me.  Lucky thing I pulled back".  And an ugly cycle begins.

That little guy “knew” what was going to happen after he spilled his drink…or at least, he thought he did.  But he was wrong in his assumption…what he thought would happen wasn’t going to happen that day.  He was a little kid…7 years old…doing the best he could to protect himself.

But the rest of us…do we operate on what we “know” will happen? We are adults, with greater ability to support, comfort and protect ourselves.  Do we really consider the rest of the possibilities and consider other outcomes of a frightening action?  Can we contemplate reactions we can have that can protect ourselves in more adaptive ways than just avoiding, running away, cringing from what we anticipate is certain punishment?

Take a look at where you withdraw and what is behind the withdrawal. Notice what happens when you withdraw.  Consider other alternatives besides withdrawing, supporting yourself and taking measures to ensure that you remain safe...see what happens when you change your reactions.

Adversity, setbacks, and even trauma may actually be necessary for people to be successful and fulfilled.

I had a rare quiet lunch at home today and enjoyed some leisurely reading…and I found myself drawn to finish an article in Psychology Today that I had started months ago but hadn’t finished.

A couple of excerpts:

• We do know that learning is error-driven—probably as a result of the brain trying to be efficient.  Failures grab our attention.  So many things happen the way we expect them to that mistakes register disproportionately.  We’re forced to integrate that new information.  Researchers have found that the more wildly wrong our prediction was, the quicker we learn.
• We should hope, then, for exposure to failure, early and often….Such a pattern [of failure] seems to promote the trait sometimes called equanimity.  We learn that trauma is survivable, so we don’t plunge too deeply following setbacks. [bold marking mine]
  
• Chess is a game of failure….At the beginning you lose—a lot.  The kids who are going to succeed are the ones who learn to stand it.  A lot of young players find losing so devastating they never adapt, never learn to metabolize that failure and to not take it personally.  But good players lose and then put the game behind them emotionally.
• Bubble-wrapping kids to shield them from failing does them no favors.  Without that trial-and-error learning from gradual exposure to risk, kids become vulnerable to anxiety disorders…But at the other extreme, exposure to repeated and relentless failure can crush the spirit of even a resilient kid.  A parent’s job, then, is to create a kind of sweet spot of exposure to failure..
• It’s interesting how many people are coming up to me and talking about their relationship with failure,” he [author Philip Schultz of Failure], “Everyone thinks they’re a failure.  The only people who don’t are the ones who really are.”

LOVE. THIS. IDEA. of recognizing the value of mistakes.


I love how this gives permission  mandates errors and mistakes as important ways of learning about the world, oneself, and becoming a stronger more resilient person.  I honor our clients who come to us after a colossal mistake to process what happened, and learn from it—to make it a growing experience which, years from now, will be seen as the starting point of something important.

Falling on one’s face is difficult, but essential.  Embrace it?! Let your kids discover failure?

Yup, embrace it!

The handling a mistake is often more remembered than the mistake itself.

It was a beautiful day yesterday morning...and my first class of the year at University.  I've taught this class before, but it was still hard to "get into it" when finally the weather seemed summery.  I rode my bike to school to enjoy the morning, and home at the end of the day--it was gorgeous.  As a treat to celebrate the beauty and accomplishments of the day, I decided to walk to Starbucks and enjoy an iced coffee.

The staff were friendly and joking with each other as one saw if the other could follow her lightening speed order of my drink with all it's little details with regards to the type of milk, type of syrup, etc.  It didn't seem quite right though when he went back for a second big scoop of ice.

When he handed it to me, I quickly saw that the ice went almost all the way to the bottom.  Shucks.

Starbucks is a decadent splurge for me.  A treat that I savor and enjoy.  And there really wasn't that much to savor in this cup.

Without even thinking about it, I noted out loud that there was an awful lot of ice in that thar cup.  He picked it up and took a look...his colleague agreed that it was heavy on the ice.  He contemplated taking some out with a spoon.  His colleague suggested that this  wasn't a very sanitary option and had him start again.

He agreed and started making a new one.

As he was working on it, he asked me if I wanted the first beverage--if I didn't take it, he would just dump it. WOW.  A bonus drink is a bonus drink, even if it is half full of ice!  So I started drinking the first one as he made the second, apologizing for the extra time as he did so.  I was so preoccupied with enjoying the first beverage, I hadn't noticed the time.  When he handed me the iced coffee with the appropriate amount of ice, he handed me a piece of paper with a word that he wanted to acknowledge the extra time it had taken to get the drink right. 

I left the store and went on my walk with one drink in each hand--feeling almost a little foolish, but a little giddy over the unheard of delight of enjoying two of my favorite drinks!  Then I looked at the card he gave me--a free beverage on my next visit as Starbuck's expression of their desire to serve me well.

When I thought about it later, I realized that by the end of the experience, I was more appreciative of Starbucks than before.  The way they reacted to their mistake actually strengthened my relationship with them!  And later on, as I tried to figure out how in the world I might have said something to the barista about the excess ice (usually I have a "life is too short to make a fuss approach to stuff like this), I remembered that on one previous occasion when I confirmed a detail about my drink, they apologized profusely and remade it.  There is a part of me that trusts them to be candid with them.

It got me to thinking about how I tell my students to relax in their conversations with clients--that the research suggests that it is how a mistake is handled that is much more critical than the mistake itself (or, at least, most mistakes that a person makes when they are working ethically and conscientiously). 

I realize that Starbucks uses this as a business strategy to build loyalty...but the reason why this is an effective business strategy is because it works!  And not only at the business level. When the error is owned, apologized for, and restitution is made, it enhances the relationship as the respect and commitment towards the other is demonstrated in a tangible and real way.  What I liked about the Starbucks guy is that he made it right with a smile on his face.  Even though he knew that he made a mistake, we ended our interaction with smiles...he had tools to make it right (give Starbucks credit for that ) so he didn't have to feel guilty or ashamed, didn't have to turn it around and blame me for saying something, or glare at me for pointing out a fault.  Further, it enhanced their credibility with me as a place that takes my concerns seriously and doesn't have me regret being honest--would that I create those relationships in my life where people feel safe enough to tell me when things aren't going well!

Take positive responsibility for a mistake next chance you get...and see what happens!