Check out grateful160.com, an online gratitude journal that sends you a text or email (you choose) up to four times a day as a little "nudge" to pause, reflect and notice a gratitude, appreciation, a positive, a "thankful for" etc....and then you reply with what you notice (via text or email). Your reply is stored as an online gratitude journal for you - and once a week, you are sent (text or email) a summary of what you were grateful for that week. Feedback from folks I know using grateful160 is that it's really useful, both to notice in the moment and to be reminded weekly of the gratitudes experienced. For folks wanting to build more positives in their lives - gratefulo160 makes it a little easier! Here's a link to the website: www.grateful160.com.
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A new TED Talk just posted on the power of stories, imagination, and fear by Fiction Writer Karen Thompson Walker. Fear, in most cases, is some version of a story that something bad will happen in the future. Knowing the difference between a story of what might happen, and reality of what is happening is a key distinction. Karen Thompson Walker comes at fear from the angle of a fiction writer - however her message about the power of a story has lots of psychological impact.
Just posted a new video over in the Educational Video section of my website. This TED TALK by Phil Hansen titled "Embrace the Shake" is really about radical acceptance and the power, freedom, creativity, and possibility that can come by learning to work with reality as it is, instead of wanting so much for things, people, situations etc to be different than how they are. While in art school, Phil Hensen developed a tremor in his hand and he gave up on his dream of becoming an artist. That is, until a neurologist suggested that he "Embrace the Shake"..... Check it out by clicking on the Education Video link to the left of this blog.
Just posted another great TED TALK video by Brene Brown (click on Educational Videos link on the left links bar to locate this talk.) Exploring the concept of 'Wholeheartedness", Brene explores the following questons: How do we learn to embrace our vulnerabilities and imperfections so that we can engage in our lives from a place of authenticity and worthiness? How do we cultivate the courage, compassion, and connection that we need to recognize that we are enough – that we are worthy of love, belonging, and joy?
"The art of living is neither careless drifting on the one hand, nor fearful clinging on the other. It consists in being sensitive to each moment, in regarding it as utterly new and unique, in having the mind open and wholly receptive." - Alan Watts
Sitting mindfully with our sorrows and fears, or with those of another, is an act of courage. It is mindfulness as fearless presence. With patience and courage, each of us can learn how to sit firmly on the earth... feel the flood of emotions...see the endless mental stories that repeat over and over, and with the resources of mindfulness and compassion, to let them go and relax, to steady the mind and return to the present. One phrase that I am know for saying is "we always have a choice about how we respond to what life is handing us at any given moment." Tara Brach, author of the book "Radical Acceptance", wrote a wonderful blog post just on this point, which I have re-posted below. Tara's post: One of my favorite stories took place a number of decades ago when the English had colonized India and they wanted to set up a golf course in Calcutta. Besides the fact that the English shouldn’t have been there in the first place, the golf course was not a particularly good idea. The biggest challenge was that the area was populated with monkeys. The monkeys apparently were interested in golf too, and their way of joining the game was to go onto the course and take the balls that the golfers were hitting and toss them around in all directions. Of course the golfers didn’t like this at all, so they tried to control the monkeys. First they built high fences around the fairway; they went to a lot of trouble to do this. Now, monkeys climb…so, they would climb over the fences and onto the course . . . that solution just didn’t work at all. The next thing they tried was to lure them away from the course. I don’t know how they tried to lure them—maybe waving bananas or something—but for every monkey that would go for the bananas, all their relatives would come into the golf course to join the fun. In desperation, they started trapping them and relocating them, but that didn’t work, either. The monkeys just had too many relatives who liked to play with golf balls! Finally, they established a novel rule for this particular golf course: the golfers in Calcutta had to play the ball wherever the monkey dropped it. Those golfers were onto something! We all want life to be a certain way. We want the conditions to be just so, and life doesn’t always cooperate. Maybe it does for awhile, which makes us want to hold on tight to how things are, but then things change. So sometimes it’s like the monkeys are dropping the balls where we don’t want them, and what can we do? Often we react by blaming…ourselves, or others or the situation. We might become aggressive. Or perhaps we feel victimized and resign. Or sometimes we soothe ourselves with extra food or drink. But clearly, none of these reactions are helpful. If we are to find any peace, if we are to find freedom, what we need to do is learn to pause and say, “Okay. This is where the monkeys dropped the ball. I’ll play it from here, as well as I’m able.” So, how do we do that? What if you pause right now, and take a moment to be quiet. Can you think of a place in your life where things are not cooperating with how you would like them to be? Whatever unfortunate place the monkeys have dropped a ball in your life, bring your focus to that. It could be something that happens in a relationship with another person, where you get reactive. What would it mean to “play the ball” here? If you could tap into your deepest wisdom, your true compassion, how would you like to respond to these circumstances? One of the great teachings in spiritual life is this: It doesn’t matter what is happening. What matters is how we respond. How we respond is what determines our happiness and peace of mind. So how might you respond with presence, when you find the monkeys have dropped the ball in a difficult spot? For more posts by Tara, check out www.blog.tarabrach.com (click on link to open) This is a great "food for thought" article by Adam Frank, www.npr.org.
When was the last time you met someone who didn't tell you they were "crazy busy"? It seems like everyone these days is overwhelmed. From the endless tasks of maintaining home and family life to the ever-accelerating pressures of the endlessly troubled, endlessly competitive economy, it seems that all of us are running ragged. In this permanent state of hyperventilation, the issue for us all is not stopping to smell roses. It's not even noticing that there are roses right there in front of us. Joseph Campbell, the great scholar of religion, hit the core of our problem when he wrote, "People say that what we're all seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think that's what we're really seeking. I think that what we're seeking is an experience of being alive." But how can we experience "being alive" in the midst of the crushing urgencies that make up modern life? Well, it might seem strange, but one answer to that question is "science," at least science with a lowercase "s." Science, you see, is all about noticing. This is where it begins, with simple act of catching seeing the smallest detail as an opening to a wider world of wonder and awe. And here is the good news. You don't need a particle accelerator or well-equipped genetics lab in your basement to practice noticing (that would be science with a capital "S"). You already are a scientist. You have been since you were a kid playing with water in the tub, or screwing around in the backyard with dirt and sticks and stuff. If you want to rebuild your inner-scientist-noticing-skills, the best place to begin is with a walk in the woods. There are lots of reasons to take a walk in the woods. To get away from it all, clear your head, smell the fresh air. The problem, of course, is that even if we get ourselves into a park or a forest, we might still be so lost in our heads that we miss what's right in front of us. Practicing noticing, like a scientist, can change that by binding us to experience in ways that are thrilling, even in their ordinariness. Noticing can take many forms. One trick is to count things. Scientists love to count stuff. How many trees are there on the sides of a steep hill compared with its crest? How many leaves are there on the stalks of the blue flowers compared to the yellow ones? How many different kinds of birdsong do you hear when you stop and listen, (by the way, this requires really stopping and really listening, which is awesome). Counting things forces you to pay attention to subtleties in the landscape, the plants, the critters. Other things scientists love: shapes, colors, patterns. Do the rocks at the stream's edge look different from the ones near the trail? Do the big cattails have the same color as the small ones? Get your naturalist on and bring a notebook. Pretend you are or John Muir. Jot down your findings, make little drawings and always, always ask your yourself those basic questions: why, how, when? You don't need the answers. As the poet Rilke once said, "Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language." Questions raise our pulse and sharpen our delight. Noticing need not be a passive activity. Remember the words of the great scientist Ms. Frizzle (of The Magic School Bus), "Take changes, make mistakes, get messy." Who needs a gym when you can climb the steep face of a hill? Hoisting yourself up a tree is a great way to notice the trees, the branches and the roots. Sure, most of us won't be emulating John Muir, riding out a Yosemite thunderstorm in the crest of wildly . Still, we might climb a few low-hanging branches, forcing ourselves into questions like: "Why do the big limbs give way to narrow branches?" or "Exactly where on the branch do the leaves start to grow?" and, of course, "How the hell do I get down from here?" I am not a biologist, geologist or plant physiologist, so I am as clueless as the next guy when I get out in the woods. But these science tricks for noticing help me focus my attention and keep me present. And that's what it's all about: presence. Refining our capacity to notice is an act of reverence that we can bring to everywhere and everywhen. It's an invitation, bringing the world's most basic presence into view, opening our horizons and restoring our spirits. And that is what science is really there for. Author: Adam Frank @ www.npr.org First, a big thanks to Carol Vivyan at GET.gg for giving me permission to share her STOPP worksheet(s). We all find ourselves in difficult emotional situations - the kind where we know we need to think before we speak, but we're losing perspective fast, our feelings are getting bigger, we're struggling not to react - you know those situations..... Carol has created a wonderful worksheet called 5 "First Aid" Steps for Self-Help in difficult situations. The acronym is STOPP! S - stop and step back. Don't act immediately.....Pause T - take a breath. Notice your breath as you breathe in and breathe out. O - observe. What am I thinking? What am I feeling in my body? What am I focusing on? What am I reacting to? Is this fact or opinion? P - pull back! Put in some perspective. Zoom out...see the bigger picture. Is there another way to look at the this? What would someone else say about it? Does it affect others? How important is this situation right now? P - practice what works. Consider the consequences. What's the BEST thing to do? Is this in line with my principles and values? Do what will help most! Think about situations where STOPP might be useful to you. And then think about how specifically STOPP could help you in those situations. It's helpful if you can figure out what you'd like to be different in these specific situations so you can have a goal to work towards. Try practicing STOPP on some situations that are less difficult or emotionally charged to get familiar with the 5 STOPP steps. Try picking one situation a day to practice on....it's a lot easier to learn something if you start small, and practice more often! Then when you run into a difficult situation, you'll be familiar with the steps. I't's much harder to learn and put into practice a new skill or technique for the first time during a crisis. It's sort of like learning to sail a boat, or learning to ski (or think of a metaphor that works for you). You start in calm waters or on the bunny slope, and as you get more familiar and comfortable with what you are doing and gain experience, you move on to open, choppy water or steeper ski slopes. The goal is to be successful as you learn, so again, start small! Most people tend to start "big", then think they can't do it, it doesn't work, give up etc. The tendency is to blame oneself rather than realize you may have started with a situation that was very challenging to learn on. To help you with learning STOPP, I've included links below to STOPP worksheets on Carol's website. (clck on the link to go to workshop pages) And I'm hoping to introduce some of Carol's other worksheets that I think could be useful in later blog posts. http://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/docs/STOPP.pdf (STOPP description worksheet - complete) http://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/docs/STOPP4.pdf (Simple version STOPP description worksheet) http://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/docs/STOPP5.pdf (5 column STOPP thought record worksheet) http://www.getselfhelp.co.uk/docs/STOPPworksheet.pdf (another version STOPP thought record worksheet) I posted a new video in my Education Videos to View section - a powerful TED Talk by Brene Brown on Listening to Shame. From TED TALKS: "Shame is an unspoken epidemic....Brene Brown explores what can happen when people confront their shame head-on. Brene's own humor, humanity, and vulnerability shine through every word".
As part of my private practice, I have worked with folks diagnosed with cancer. It's very natural, after an initial cancer diagnosis or a recurrence of cancer, for folks to grapple with trying to understand what living, and dying means for them. This is a very personal journey - no right way or no wrong way - simply finding the words, the understanding, the paradigm, the faith or the "no faith" that provides comfort at a time when comfort is truly needed. I hope that Roger's Ebert's wise and gentle words may be of use to folks who are finding their way along that particular path.....
I do not fear death.....Roger Ebert I know it is coming, and I do not fear it, because I believe there is nothing on the other side of death to fear. I hope to be spared as much pain as possible on the approach path. I was perfectly content before I was born, and I think of death as the same state. I am grateful for the gifts of intelligence, love, wonder and laughter. You can’t say it wasn’t interesting. My lifetime’s memories are what I have brought home from the trip. I will require them for eternity no more than that little souvenir of the Eiffel Tower I brought home from Paris. I don’t expect to die anytime soon. But it could happen this moment, while I am writing. I was talking the other day with Jim Toback, a friend of 35 years, and the conversation turned to our deaths, as it always does. “Ask someone how they feel about death,” he said, “and they’ll tell you everyone’s gonna die. Ask them, In the next 30 seconds? No, no, no, that’s not gonna happen. How about this afternoon? No. What you’re really asking them to admit is, Oh my God, I don’t really exist. I might be gone at any given second.” Me too, but I hope not. I have plans. Still, illness led me resolutely toward the contemplation of death. That led me to the subject of evolution, that most consoling of all the sciences, and I became engulfed on my blog in unforeseen discussions about God, the afterlife, religion, theory of evolution, intelligent design, reincarnation, the nature of reality, what came before the big bang, what waits after the end, the nature of intelligence, the reality of the self, death, death, death. Many readers have informed me that it is a tragic and dreary business to go into death without faith. I don’t feel that way. “Faith” is neutral. All depends on what is believed in. I have no desire to live forever. The concept frightens me. I am 69, have had cancer, will die sooner than most of those reading this. That is in the nature of things. In my plans for life after death, I say, again with Whitman: I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles. And with Will, the brother in Saul Bellow’s “Herzog,” I say, “Look for me in the weather reports.” Raised as a Roman Catholic, I internalized the social values of that faith and still hold most of them, even though its theology no longer persuades me. I have no quarrel with what anyone else subscribes to; everyone deals with these things in his own way, and I have no truths to impart. All I require of a religion is that it be tolerant of those who do not agree with it. I know a priest whose eyes twinkle when he says, “You go about God’s work in your way, and I’ll go about it in His.” What I expect to happen is that my body will fail, my mind will cease to function and that will be that. My genes will not live on, because I have had no children. I am comforted by Richard Dawkins’ theory of memes. Those are mental units: thoughts, ideas, gestures, notions, songs, beliefs, rhymes, ideals, teachings, sayings, phrases, clichés that move from mind to mind as genes move from body to body. After a lifetime of writing, teaching, broadcasting and telling too many jokes, I will leave behind more memes than many. They will all also eventually die, but so it goes. O’Rourke’s had a photograph of Brendan Behan on the wall, and under it this quotation, which I memorized: I respect kindness in human beings first of all, and kindness to animals. I don’t respect the law; I have a total irreverence for anything connected with society except that which makes the roads safer, the beer stronger, the food cheaper and the old men and old women warmer in the winter and happier in the summer. That does a pretty good job of summing it up. “Kindness” covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out. One of these days I will encounter what Henry James called on his deathbed “the distinguished thing.” I will not be conscious of the moment of passing. In this life I have already been declared dead. It wasn’t so bad. After the first ruptured artery, the doctors thought I was finished. My wife, Chaz, said she sensed that I was still alive and was communicating to her that I wasn’t finished yet. She said our hearts were beating in unison, although my heartbeat couldn’t be discovered. She told the doctors I was alive, they did what doctors do, and here I am, alive. Do I believe her? Absolutely. I believe her literally — not symbolically, figuratively or spiritually. I believe she was actually aware of my call and that she sensed my heartbeat. I believe she did it in the real, physical world I have described, the one that I share with my wristwatch. I see no reason why such communication could not take place. I’m not talking about telepathy, psychic phenomenon or a miracle. The only miracle is that she was there when it happened, as she was for many long days and nights. I’m talking about her standing there and knowing something. Haven’t many of us experienced that? Come on, haven’t you? What goes on happens at a level not accessible to scientists, theologians, mystics, physicists, philosophers or psychiatrists. It’s a human kind of a thing. Someday I will no longer call out, and there will be no heartbeat. I will be dead. What happens then? From my point of view, nothing. Absolutely nothing. All the same, as I wrote to Monica Eng, whom I have known since she was six, “You’d better cry at my memorial service.” I correspond with a dear friend, the wise and gentle Australian director Paul Cox. Our subject sometimes turns to death. In 2010 he came very close to dying before receiving a liver transplant. In 1988 he made a documentary named “Vincent: The Life and Death of Vincent van Gogh.” Paul wrote me that in his Arles days, van Gogh called himself “a simple worshiper of the external Buddha.” Paul told me that in those days, Vincent wrote: Looking at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots representing towns and villages on a map. Why, I ask myself, shouldn’t the shining dots of the sky be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France? Just as we take a train to get to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to reach a star. We cannot get to a star while we are alive any more than we can take the train when we are dead. So to me it seems possible that cholera, tuberculosis and cancer are the celestial means of locomotion. Just as steamboats, buses and railways are the terrestrial means. To die quietly of old age would be to go there on foot. That is a lovely thing to read, and a relief to find I will probably take the celestial locomotive. Or, as his little dog, Milou, says whenever Tintin proposes a journey, “Not by foot, I hope!” |
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