August 2011

It was a day thinkin’ about grief yesterday…it was Jack Layton’s funeral, and the TV was on as I was going about my day. I usually prefer music when I’m around the house, but it was compelling watching the outpouring of grief for Mr. Layton, and to watch the drama as his friends and family had the public eye on them as they attended the processional and funeral for their loved one.

Then, as I sat down for supper, I happened to flip onto a rerun of Oprah that had been recorded from earlier this week. It was on “life changing moments” from the show over the last 25 years. She played a clip from years ago of a woman quite stuck in her grief after the murder of her 18 year old daughter…the woman had every intention of killing herself on return home from the show, as the grief was unbearable.

Dr. Phil challenged her on her outlook:

 When Dr. Phil asked Jo Ann if her daughter would want her to hurt like this, Jo Ann said that her daughter would actually be angry at her for her behavior. "So it wouldn't be a betrayal," Dr. Phil told her. "Maybe the betrayal is focusing on the day of her death, rather than celebrating the event of her life. She lived for 18 vibrant and wonderful years, and you focus on the day she died." Jo Ann responded by saying, "I never thought of it that way."

Jo Ann went home and moved forward with her life, still thinking of and being sad for her daughter, but also “starting living” as her other daughter put it.

Moments later on the same show, the acclaimed author Toni Morrison was interviewed. Slate, her son, passed away last December. Her heart aches forever. “I expect to be sad the rest of my life…and I’m not unhappy about that. It’s seems that if I were looking for closure and some way to move on, that’s a insult to him. I know how to do my work, I do a lot of work…[but] I don’t expect that memory to go anywhere, I don’t even want it to…I can remember it.”

Sort of an interesting thought to me as I reflected back on Olivia Chow’s comments in the video shown at the funeral today of her husband:

Some people say to me that Jack’s voice is gone, I’m so sad. I’m sad. We’re sad. But let us not look behind us, let us look forward, look at what we can accomplish together to make sure that Jack’s voice is not silenced. I think that is a good way to celebrate his life.

Then she is quiet, and as the camera continue to roll, her eyes tear, and her hand comes to her face, as she weeps…clearly not only looking forward…but vividly remembering her soul mate that is gone. It seems that grief recovery is this paradoxical condition of both 1) remembering and honoring the sadness with acknowledging its inevitable lingering presence and 2) incorporating that loss in a life that embraces the hope of a future and living a life where loss doesn’t stop life, but becomes a part of the fabric of that life. I expect that as Olivia Chow goes back to Parliament, and continues to work on the future that she and her husband have spent years passionately working for—I expect she will be sad for the rest of her life when she thinks on the loss of Jack Layton…and I hope, like Toni Morrison, she’s not unhappy about that.

Sometimes, my job it just tooooo much fun. I mean, who else gets to do zumba as part of their day at work?

The Occupational Therapy students that started in early July are almost done their placement at Siloam Mission. I supervise them…as someone who has limited time, but still wants to be involved at Siloam in some way, it seemed that volunteering to supervise students who work full time for an organization was a good way to go. And I get to hear really cool stuff about what they are doing and ask some (hopefully goo) questions that have them be able to learn and improve. It looks like I’m helping the University and Siloam…but the truth is that I learn and grow and get inspired in ways that are truly lifegiving for me.

So Alana and Ashley have continued the good work that Nadine and Criag started last winter. They held an Open House in the gym last week…the theme being “H+/H-“ …”with or without homes”. It was a beautiful thing to be a part of and experience…dozens of us all together trying to follow the zumba instructor…all of us in sweats and t shirts and runners…couldn’t tell who had a home and who didn’t…didn’t matter if you had a home or not when it came to having fun and working up a sweat.

I liked what Mike, one of the staff members said about the experience:

 …the room was buzzing with high spirits as staff and patrons together tried to follow a very energetic dance leader through a series of complex body twists, booty-shaking and overall wiggling. Laughter spread like wildfire. Staff were affectionately ridiculed by patrons. Patrons chummily bumped into each other.

It was great…and patrons and staff toured the gym area that has been developed. There were door prizes, and snacks…well, it was just FUN!

Ashley and Alana have also been working to establish a “MEDS” program (Medication Education Delivery System)…it’s tricky to get meds delivered to your home when you don’t have one, hard to keep meds safe when you don’t have a medicine cabinet, and can be hard to know how to take your meds safely should your literacy level happen to be low. Ashley and Alana have been working with Siloam Mission and Tache Pharmacy to develop a system to get medications safely to patrons in a way that works for each person. Pretty cool system…and as far as we know, the first of it’s kind in Canada. They have done some other cool stuff about developing resources around effective medication strategies, figuring out how to help patrons get to medical appointments, linking with the university to potentially have pharmacy students come provide support to the process and so forth. And, in between, they have cut up veggies and served meals, sorted clothes in the clothing depot, had interesting conversations around program development, volunteered at the shelter, helped staff with work station and environment assessment, had meaningful connections ith patrons where they have learned much and had a chance to encourage and be encouraged, and the list goes on.

The fun of the zumba…the reggae music, the beat, and the exercise was fun…but what I will remember for months to come is the giggle of the homed and unhomed blending together as we fumbled with the footwork, and joy of joining in with others of many backgrounds and laughing at the fun of getting health and whole together.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

Seems to me that the idea of replacing anxiety and fear with curiosity is a worthwhile idea...but one that can minimize the difficulty of that. I mean, it's one thing to say it, but a whole other task to pull it off. But I have watched clients be able to experiment, to "play around the edges" of trying on curiosity instead of fear in unknown situations. Often they are "underwhelmed" with how "not a big deal" things are, how much more enjoyable new experiences are, and how most or all of what they feared didn't happen, and, if it did, it wasn't the horrible tragedy they imagined it would be. Now...if the rest of us could just take that to heart. :) So...I don't know that it's as easy as "just doing it", like a major shoe company would have us believe...but I'm gonna give it "a go" this week, and see what it might look like...as fall is approaching and all sorts of new things are happening that I can face with curiosity or fears...I will (work to) choose curiosity!

All over this country, mothers and fathers are having “anticipatory grief”…knowing we are in the latter half of August. Soon kindergartners will leave their mothers for school…some can hardly wait to use their new knapsacks and tuck into school. Soon, new high school graduates will be packing up their suitcases and going off to college.

The confusion of these “sending offs” is immense for parents, as parents celebrate the milestone that has been reached, and mourn at the decreasing role and contact in the child’s life. It’s hard and wonderful all at the same time.

I read this in the latest edition of the Psychotherapy Networker, about a father looking forward to going to a baseball game with his daughter…the one soon to leave for college, and she lets him know she’s prefer to go with her friends on her own:

“Is that OK?” she asked, her head tilting, birdlike, watching me intently, as she’s always done. How does one answer such a question? By this stage of life, every parent knows that there isn’t one answer, but two. The first is the one that you reveal to her, the one that’s short and kind and clean: “Of course it’s OK. Have a great time. I hope the Orioles win.” The second answer is the longer one; the one that’s more accurate, but more devastating: “It’s certainly not OK. It’s not OK for you to grow up and leave me behind. It’s not OK for you to hurt me, even if you don’t mean to, even if you must—and I know you must. It’s not OK for you to shove me out of the bright center of your life and into the twilight of insignificance. It’s not OK for you to remind me that time doesn’t stand still, that there’s a distant drumbeat of mortality that begins to pound ever so slightly louder with each child that departs. The Orioles may win; but, tonight, all I feel is loss. No, no, no; it’s not OK!” In every love relationship, there are the words we choose to speak to our beloved and the words that must remain unspoken out of love. We keep these words to ourselves, smile gamely as our children voyage forth into the world—just as we asked them to do, just as we taught them to do, just as we want them to do. And as they go, our hearts break a little, and our souls sink a little as we wave good-bye…

Brad Sachs

I so get the struggle about wanting to be authentic with those that I love…what do I do with the thoughts that I think and feel but aren’t helpful for the other? I like the line that I bolded…to be real and vulnerable with loved ones, but recognizing there are times when there needs to be some careful editing as part of that “realness”. In the above example, it is a very real act of authentic love to say, “Of course, it’s OK”…because, really, IT IS. There are layers…and there are times when sharing those layers isn’t authentic to what you really want the other to feel and to know about you.

"You are beautiful...when you let friends have their space, when you believe, when you laugh, or are moved to tears, when you let it just roll right off your back, when you talk about your dreams, when you help a turtle across the road, when you try to do the right thing even when it comes out wrong, when you love." Anonymous

The difference between good and nice has been on my mind a bunch lately. Trying to sort out the difference, and trying to make some promises to myself about what I want to do with my fresh thinking on this.

It started a few weeks ago when a friend and I went for a looooong walk in the park. She had suggested we meet, because I had alluded to a difficult situation and she was kind enough to offer her support to me. So, we walked around Assiniboine Park, enjoying the beautiful evening…she hugged me, and let me cry, and listened to me, and listened to me some more…in the way supportive girlfriends do. She let me vent, and I ranted and railed for a while. She heard me, and let me know she did.

And then she proverbally “kicked my butt”.

She let me know I was being unreasonable, and demanding of another person in a way that wasn’t fair. She told me I was expecting more than was possible, and the way I was trying to work it out just increased the demands in a situation that was already overwhelming for another. She told me that although my situation was painful and difficult, I didn’t have a full grasp of the other’s position. She, having more experience than I of where the other was at, let me know what it was “really” like. Funny thing was, even though she was setting me straight, telling me how I got it wrong, I wasn’t offended. Strangely, I became more relieved…the whole thing started to make a lot more sense, and though it was still difficult, it didn’t have the same level of turmoil. Hurt—yes, confusion—not so much.

I have thought back to that conversation numerous times over the last weeks, reminding me of the truth of what she said. She taught me much. She wasn’t “nice” in the way I might have expected her to be…taking my side, and “tsk, tsk-ing” the other…she challenged me pretty good. She may not have been “nice”, but gosh, was she “good” for me. I’ve been realizing the toll that being “nice” has on relationships. Spouses who take the easy way out and are “nice”, swallowing the little resentments and pretending it doesn’t matter when he criticizes her family again, or he chooses to stay late and miss something he promised to attend again. Not saying anything is “nice”, but not “good”…it costs the relationship to have some things not working well.

So, I was getting the grey covered in my hair the other day, and I was chatting about this thought with R, my hairdresser. As we were talking, he says, “I always try to be nice.” And I say, “Nice or good?” And he says: “Aren’t those the same thing?” And so we talk about this…it came up because he had recently let an employee go, because although she was very “nice”, she hadn’t been working out well. And R. says: “As we’re talking, I’m realizing how I was very ‘nice’ by saying things like, ‘I was thinking that if you’re interested, you could start….’ Or ‘You might want to think about trying….’ . I did this so that I didn’t appear pushy…I wanted her to like me. But when I said those things, I had timelines and targets for performance for her…I had clear expectations of what I expected from her…but now I’m not sure she would have known that.” Now, we’ve no way of knowing if this employee would have been able to reach these targets…she may have been fired for inadequate performance. But if he hadn’t been so “nice”, she would have clearly known the expectations, and had a much clearer picture of what she needed to do. She would have known where the bar was set, and she would have had a clear opportunity to determine if she wanted to reach it. She still may not have had a job, but she would have had a better chance.

It was interesting to watch R. ponder this out loud…and prompted me to further look at how I can choose to be nice to someone, rather than good for someone.

• It’s easy to be nice, it takes courage to be good.
  
•  It’s obvious how to be nice, it takes careful judgement and thoughtful discernment to be good.
  
• It’s safe for oneself to be nice, it can be risky to be good.
  
• Nice looks after the speaker, good looks after the other, and invests in the relationship.
  
• Nice keeps everybody smiling with each other, but the task can get lost in the conversations…while good may challenge the connection between people.
  
• Nice feels warm and fuzzy and a little hollow, good feels real and authentic and vulnerable, and sometimes a little raw.
  
• Nice is what we were taught: “be nice”, “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all”.
  
• Nice leaves you “up a creek” with few options when the other person is unfair, mean, and rude. 

I talked about these ideas with a group of people last week, and had some interesting discussions after…as people suddenly had a way to articulate an inner tension they had…the desire to have a “nice” conversation with someone but also have a pull to speak truth into a situation in a way that could be hard for the other person to hear.

How do you decide between being “nice” and “good”?

**I apologize for my lack of blogging…my webmaster has been making some changes which means the blog part of the site has a few kinks in it. Hope to have it up and running smoothly very shortly. ☺

Feelings of worth can flourish only in an atmosphere where individual differences are appreciated, mistakes are tolerated, communication is open, and rules are flexible. Virginia Satir