Posts Tagged ‘mental influence’
Not Without Effort
Why does it take effort to see the positive in our world while the negative shows up uninvited? Maybe if I practiced being still and in the moment long enough to see, I would discover that there is no imbalance of negative over positive. In my experience of navigating the world without practicing such meditation, the majority of information that paints my backdrop is less than happy. It takes conscious mental exercise to re-focus the landscape around me to reflect all the positive that is ever-present, regardless appearances otherwise.
I’m afraid there is a significant amount of learned behavior that is responsible for my tendency to find optimism an effort to accomplish. I have many years of practicing fatalistic pessimism to overcome.
But hope springs eternal! Local football teams have signed new coaches. The days are getting longer. The dates for my annual June bicycle trip have been announced. We still have our house. There is food on our shelves. Gas in the car. Heat in our home. Clothes on my back. Family is healthy and free of strife. Love is abundant. We know peace that passes understanding.
Yet it is still an exercise to choose to know all that, over the dismay which presents itself without effort. I bask in the grace that allows me the luxury of doing so. I choose to focus on the unending love that inspires the good we enjoy throughout the entire world. It is always well within our grasp.
We are empowered with the ability to make that conscious choice.
Fine Line
I woke up a couple of days ago and something seemed out of sorts. You know that sense you have before actually getting sick? There is nothing specific to point to that feels wrong yet, but you can still tell. “I’m getting sick.”
At that point, I imagine that if I had a microscopic view of myself, I would be able to see why I feel the sensation of getting sick. Before we even break out with that sore throat, or cough, or fever, there are things going on at the cellular level that we can detect, even though we can’t specifically identify.
On Sunday I became so tired in the afternoon, I fell into a totally involuntary nap, sleeping even though I had no intention to do so. My appetite has not been there at meal time, yet showed up with a vengeance at odd hours. However, Monday morning, I had no reason not to go to work. Since it was Monday, and I was going to work, I packed for the usual morning soccer games. Soccer felt like I’d aged a decade since the last time I played. Again, there was nothing specific to point to, but I felt slow, extremely tired, and enjoyed little success.
This is the time when I feel our self-talk can have greater impact. If I were to keep telling myself that I was getting sick, my body would easily oblige me. Conversely, I choose to focus my attention on the fact that days are passing and no specific symptoms of illness are materializing. Microscopically, my cells are doing what cells do to fight off any tiny invaders and everything is performing the way it is supposed to.
I believe there is a very fine line between getting sick and staying healthy when it comes to the regular onslaught of minor viral infections that we face on any given day.
For not feeling quite my normal peak healthy self lately, I must admit, I still feel pretty good. Nana nana nanna na.
Simple Impact
There is a simple phrase that is on my mind today… “If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.” Think a moment, about the power of negative feedback. It is by no means limited to our words.
It really struck home for me the other day during my morning soccer. I play in a group that includes a variety of ages and abilities, gathering three times a week for recreational pick-up games. We accomplish a wide range of successes and failures in our attempts to enact the artistry of the sport. Nobody that I know intentionally fails. But failure happens, and it’s tough enough for individuals to accept it about themselves –people usually judges themselves much more harshly than they ever would others. There is no constructive benefit from expressing consternation and distress over another player’s mistakes.
Yes, it’s personal experience speaking here. I will admit to being oversensitive, but regardless, yesterday I gained new insight about the power that such a negative gesture holds. For reasons that defy sensible logic, I felt an immense surge of inadequacy when, after my errant kick sailed uselessly out of play, my teammate dropped his shoulders, brought his chin to his chest, and rocked his head side to side in a gesture of the verbal, “no.” My reaction was visceral, immediate, and I’m sure appeared entirely out of proportion in relation to his involuntary behavior that my blunder had triggered. I apologized to him, loudly and directly (twice) as play continued without me. Then I asked for a sub and walked off the floor.
There is a side lesson that deserves to be recognized in explanation for what appears to be an inordinate level of upset over such a simple and obvious reaction from a teammate. It involves taking into account the time-weighted average dose of similar demonstrations of dissatisfaction that I have been experiencing from this same individual. The first time it happens, it is no big deal. A teammate becoming frustration is a pretty natural reaction. This same teammate is wonderfully vocal during play, directing and offering advice for our activity. I’m pretty sure his being vocal contributes to my feeling bad when I am unable to live up to the direction, but again, that isn’t anything out of the ordinary. But over and over, as my ability to fail continues to accompany my successes, his visible frustrations tend to accumulate in my head. It breaks my heart to let him down, it truly does. By yesterday’s session, I guess I reached a breaking point.
The real lesson for me however, involves how a negative response impacts everyone else around. Quite simply, the important fact that it does have impact and there is nothing positive about it. Here’s another way to look at it: consider what making that response positive would be like. What if my failure was met by a smile of recognition, noting that we all miss-hit the ball at times? What if I heard calls of assurance indicating that I’d get it right next time? What if he said, “Don’t let it get you down, John. Keep at it!”? Seriously. He doesn’t even need to mean what he says. It would make a world of difference in my disposition.
As it was, I composed myself on the side for a few minutes and then returned to the game with my attitude reset. In the ensuing play I was treated to a bit of karmic justice, as my friend finished the morning with several of his own failures, one after another. I didn’t exactly shower him with supportive chatter, but it wasn’t hard at all to not hang my head in disgust each time, either. It was simple. I know what kind of negative message that gesture sends.
Forgetting to Remember
I sure enjoy poking fun at things. Maybe sometimes at the expense of appropriateness. For example, I have recently noticed the development of a pattern of forgetfulness that has led me to blurt out a series of comments about alzheimer’s that were meant to be humorous. What if it actually were a memory disease causing my problem? What if someone I was with at the time, had a family member so afflicted? Doesn’t seem like something to joke about.
One of the things that I have trouble keeping track of is, which topics I’ve written about and posted here in Relative Something. Have you ever noticed that you can pretty quickly recognize when you have read something before? Unfortunately, I can’t remember which of my stories I’ve already told here. Of course, the longer I do this blog thing, the higher the odds there will eventually be repetition.
I have lost enough things lately, uncharacteristically of me, that it appears to be a pattern. So what’s the natural reaction? I start unconsciously living up to my fears and losing track of more things. Each new item or issue quickly adds evidence to my expectation and soon I’m convinced it’s getting worse. It must be a disease, no?
Mention to someone that you find yourself losing things and they will immediately be able to share a similar number of ways they are experiencing the same thing. It’s not uncommon. Becoming fixated on it is a classic case of how we create the very situations we expect to see. We all probably lose track of things at a similar rate over time, yet if we put our focus on it, the rate can appear to be excessive.
So, I will dismiss any such pattern, until a time when it truly exceeds typical human foibles. How do I know when that is? Oh, never mind.
Actually, it should be easy to dismiss the pattern, because I will probably just forget that I was keeping track of how often I am losing things. Get it?
Like I said, it’s not that funny.
Truth and Fear
Have you ever tried to actually figure out what is true? Truth is not quite as cut and dried as it is made out to be. I feel differently about a lie. Lies aren’t likely to occur without intent, and as a result are much easier to define. Truth just happens. Truth just is. Ah, but truth is more often referenced against falsity. Falsehood can probably be argued just as much truthfulness. When a person is intending to cover up something, the action is rarely referred to as creating falsity and much more likely to be identified as an act of lying.
Which situation gives rise to the greater fear: telling the truth, or telling a lie? Why do either one produce fear? Look at some of the things we are afraid of… appearing uninformed, drawing undesired attention to ourselves, revealing a deficiency of character, being hypocritical. Lies might be employed in avoidance of such fears, but isn’t it possible that summoning truth could serve one equally well here?
I’d be lying if I said I knew.
I keep coming across another snippet from Gary Zukav’s meditations from Seat of the Soul (because the little flip book in the bathroom doesn’t get flipped very often) that refers to fear in a way that resonates with me…
From page 70:
All souls are tempted, but an individual with limitation of consciousness will find it more attractive to walk into the magnetic field of fear because it would not recognize fear for what it is. It would accept it as something else, as something that is normal to Life.
I often hear people discuss things that to my ears appear related to their fears, but their conversation isn’t framed with any recognition of it being a fear. It comes across as more of a frustration, or anger, or even indignation over details of a given subject (often fueled by news reports which so deftly propagate and then harvest the attention). They don’t even realize where it is they are dwelling, within their field of fear. It is, indeed, accepted as normal to life. It is a drama to which they are attracted. It becomes an addiction of sorts.
Turn off the news. Practice recognizing where it is that you allow your thoughts to dwell. Whether or not it ends up being a place of utter truth, it can certainly be a place other than one of fear.
Speak a Positive Message
I can’t think. My head hurts. It seems I have developed a cold. Where does thinking go when it disappears?
I find it particularly annoying to be sick with a cold during the spring or summer. It just doesn’t seem logical and it doesn’t feel fair. Is that one of the reasons our parents teach us that life isn’t fair?
Last night it struck me that something I have been trying to develop in myself related to my desire to strive for optimal health, is something that I didn’t have the benefit of witnessing within my family growing up. I want to send positive messages in my home with my words. There was a fair amount of sarcasm in my family that became a pattern I developed and executed all too well. Speaking positive messages did not come naturaly for me. It takes a fair amount of practice and a concerted dedication to enact changes in patterns that have been developed over the most impressionable years of a life.
I don’t recall ever specifically feeling any doubt that my family loved and supported me. That familial love was present in a way that I intuitively sensed and the nonverbal message of it provided plenty of comfort. But the verbal messages were coded. It was rarely as simple and clear as, “I love you” or “You are the best!”
Verbalizing positive messages to those with whom you live and work just may be the most dramatic positive influence you can create for the least amount of energy. Even when you are miserable and totally drained from having a cold, you can speak of love and appreciation. And the reward is doubled, because both the person speaking and the person hearing such a message are rewarded with positive, healthy energy.
I invite you to make an effort to listen to the words you speak and the messages you are sending to those closest to you this week. See if you become inspired to develop a more conscious pattern of verbalizing positive messages that will seed better feelings for both yourself and the people around you.
What Happens
How many roles do we juggle in living our days? I have been grumbling a lot lately that rehabilitating a hamstring muscle injury could easily be a full time job. What I wish I had available to help me return to previous levels of athletic activity is entire days to stretch, exercise, stretch, strengthen, stretch, receive therapeutic sports massage and also appropriately rest; not only for my ailing leg, but the healthy one, too, ultimately hoping to recover with some semblance of balance. It ain’t gonna happen.
The other morning, while I was too-hurriedly trying to inhale my breakfast while standing, in order to make up for time spent sleeping-in a little bit to give my liver every possible chance to accomplish its overnight recovery (since I got to bed late after working long hours on overhauling my bicycle the day before) I gazed out at the landscape around our house. Just last week, everything was finally released from the grip of the long winter’s snow, and I was struck by the amount of attention it all now deserved. For the most part, our landscape gets left to fend for itself until one sunny weekend day when Cyndie and I will labor intensively to do what we can to influence some control toward appearances of order and intent. I mourn the fact that what we are able to accomplish is limited by having arrived at the tasks later than each chore deserved. Much of what we deal with could be refined by timely pruning or culling in advance, which would allow us to focus more on helping support the things we actually want growing and less on fighting back undesirables. It ain’t gonna happen.
The list of other areas of interest and/or responsibility that suffer similar limitations is long. The majority of them would be much better served given full-time attention.
As I was lingering (longer than the task realistically deserved) with cleaning the greasy sludge that persisted in sticking to my bicycle chain the other day, it occurred to me how this very situation reflects a common quandary I find myself facing. I have started in on the cleaning, and then believe it worthy to complete the task to the extreme, yet have not really prepared in advance to be as effective as my noble intentions now expect. I end up spending a lot of time toiling with improvised methods. The thing is, I enjoy that level of tedium. It becomes somewhat meditative. It has a component that I liken to my pleasure for assembling a jigsaw puzzle.
Unfortunately, one big problem with operating this way is that it runs right in the face of my inability to commit full-time to my projects. A lot more things linger unfinished than ever get entirely accomplished in my world.
There’s a thread in all that which is integrated with the depression I have experienced. My decisions and choices set up the situations and in that way I contribute to being my own worst enemy. My mental exercises to alter the dysfunctional process have revealed the power to change things for the better. But when I grow weary, and when I lose one of my supporting activities, it is surprising how quick I can revert to the sickly comfortable patterns of depressive feelings, behaviors, and when it really gets away from me, depressive thinking patterns.
Yesterday morning I heard the familiar lyrics of a song that John Prine wrote and Bonnie Raitt recorded for a hit, “Angel from Montgomery”
How the hell can a person
go to work in the morning
and come home in the evening
and have nothing to say
Unfortunately, I know all too well how.
Pondering
In so many ways, it makes sense that ‘out of sight’ leads to, ‘out of mind’. I can honestly report that I do not think about Girl Scout cookies without some reason that triggers it. Maybe a cute little commercial, a feel-good news story, even that weak laugh-getter reference in a second-rate sitcom. Of course, too, there is always that irresistible pair of eyes that show up at the door in a sales call, …and then, BOOM, there they are, on the counter. I didn’t know Cyndie had placed an order. Not just one kind, either. More flavor styles than I knew existed. On the counter. Girl Scout cookies. Boxes of them. Just set there, on the counter.
I don’t know how many of you know about the period in my life when I decided I would quit eating sweets. I had seen it done by two other people I respect, and was impressed and inspired by them. One person started it as a lenten exercise in sacrifice and then just kept on going. I had never practiced such an act of sacrifice like that before and was intrigued. I gave it a shot.
Overall, I was struck by how easy it ultimately was, once I got over the initial withdrawal, to fully enjoy myself without even a craving for the sweet treats and desserts that I had decided to forgo. It turned out that I didn’t need to repeatedly overcome an urge, I found that I simply lost my former passion for all things sweet. Well, sort of.
It wasn’t all miraculous instant healthy diet. I discovered that I happily traded the overt sweet enticements for breads. It’s a whole other kind of sweet.
For whatever reason, probably more psychological than physiological, I eventually decided to relax my behavior and join the crowd in dessert at social gatherings. Now I occasionally put some ice creamy, chocolaty, crispy, crunchy, gooey, smooth and rich treats in my mouth that remind me of flavors I had almost forgotten about for a while there. But, for the most part, my current self-control usually results in pretty humble portions.
Except for Girl Scout cookies. Boxes of them. Just laying there. On the counter.
Arbitrary Lines
I’m guessing there wouldn’t be much argument to the idea that people perceive they have limitations even when no actual limitation exists. Some versions may even present as common phobias. We often hear people admit to a fear of something that is not necessarily a threat that deserves such focus. It is my belief that we each have the ability to make a decision that alters these limitations we allow to exist.
When I was young, I drank milk with pretty much anything I ate. Some foods, I felt it essential to have milk. Toast with peanut butter comes to mind. Then I suffered an episode of a kidney stone. Seems I wasn’t practicing advisable levels of hydration, especially given the high level of dairy products I consumed. I must say, pain is one heck of a motivator for change. I was advised to reduce my intake of all things calcium, and to drink more water. At the time, I literally believed it not possible to eat peanut butter toast without milk. I was wrong. In the end, I found the adjustment to be rather easy.
For much of my life, I wore a wrist watch. After I returned from a week of vacation one year, where I had been without my watch the whole wonderful time, I decided to try going without it when I resumed my regular routine. I found this change to be a little more difficult than not drinking milk with certain foods, but not by much. I used to believe that I could not get along without my wrist watch. Now I realize I can, and I do just fine sans wrist watch.
I used to be a pretty regular viewer of television news broadcasts. I grew up in a house where we watched the news to get a sense of things. I recall the dramatic feeling of being lost when I first moved out of the house where I grew up, to a place with no television. We solved that within days, and I maintained my fixation with television news for decades. Then, in similar fashion to my changing the habit of having worn a wrist watch, I came home from a vacation where I had not seen news for over a week and realized I was doing just fine without it. As a matter of fact, I felt a little bit better without it. The newscasters used to feel like part of my family. We watched their hairstyles change and listened to their chit-chat between stories, as if they were people we knew. I really like not knowing about them any more, and I don’t feel lost at all.
I seriously felt the possibility of changing these things was not only unlikely, but even ill-advised. But these were artificial boundaries I allowed myself to claim. And as such, I have all the power to choose to move and change them at any time. Next time you notice yourself clinging to something a little tighter than makes logical sense, consider the possibility it is a product of your own construct. You have the power to change those arbitrary lines to move yourself to a different place. Shoot, you could even obliterate them altogether.
When people talk about coloring outside the lines, the first thought is of the lines that are presented to us. But we also can choose to color outside the lines we create for ourselves. What would it take for you to become aware of the limits you are choosing to live within? They might not be as limiting as they seem, after all.
All Right
There is a phrase that is commonly used during emergency response, to calm a patient’s mind, that had me thinking the other day, if it applies during critical incidences, there is no less reason for it to apply other times in our lives.
Everything’s gonna be all right.
If we can tell someone who is in serious trauma, that everything is going to be all right, then how can it not apply for situations like not getting out of the house in the morning by the intended time, or when a car surges into our lane without bothering to signal, or when I discover I forgot to properly punctuate a question. How many times in a single day would it benefit us to contemplate the simple notion that everything is going to be all right?
And by now, I think we get the drill: If we say it often enough, we will tend to believe it, and if we believe it, it will come to be.
All right? All right.
When you are helping someone in crisis and they just can’t see any way out, intuition tells you that there will be a calm after their storm. Even if you can’t see any solution to their crisis, you sense that somehow, there will come a time when the crisis is over and everything is okay. They might ask how you can say such a thing, but you know that eventually everything is going to be all right. That’s just the way it is, looking in from the outside. It’s a view we deserve to take more often regarding our own daily dilemmas, both the important and the less so.
Relative Something 