Tag: mental health

Too Mad To Listen

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“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” – Mark Twain

I saw this gas station sign and it reminded me of a story from many years ago.

The house next door to mine used to be a duplex. On the main floor lived a 40-something year old opera singer and music teacher who had lived there for nearly twenty years. She gardened and was friendly with all the neighbors so it was easy to get to know her.

One summer, a new renter moved into the top floor. She was younger than the opera singer – maybe in her early 30’s. I frequently saw her roller skating around the little lake we live near wearing bright red lipstick. She was noticeable but harder to get to know beyond a wave here and there.

The roller skater frequently walked loudly in high heels when she was home and slammed her kitchen cupboards late at night. This was keeping the opera singer in the apartment below her awake past her bedtime. She tried to ask her to stop. The roller skater didn’t want to talk about it. So, the opera singer tried sending her an email. The roller skater’s dad who lived in Florida called her to tell her to stop bothering his daughter.

Then one night the roller skater came home, parked her car in the driveway and left her car lights on. The opera singer noticed and tried to call out to her but the roller skater slammed the door. The opera singer tried to call her on the phone but the roller skater hung up on her. So the opera singer sent her an email.

The next morning, the roller skater’s car battery was dead. The opera singer watched as she slammed the door crying, eventually getting AAA to come help. The roller skater moved out shortly after.

I heard this story from the opera singer so I only have that perspective. I think the roller skater was a sensitive soul that felt every comment deeply. But even so, it’s always reminded me that not listening to others can come at a cost.

I searched my memory banks for a story of when I was too mad to listen. Funny thing is that I came up empty. I take that as a sign that someone out there is right now telling a story about me not listening. I’m just not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that we often are oblivious to the help never taken.

What do you think?

(featured photo from Pexels)

Upward Spirals

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“Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.” – William Arthur Ward

This was first published on 8/17/2022. I’ve been slowly moving some things I’ve published on other blogs to this one and it’s a great reflective practice for me to remember all the things that touched my heart two years ago – and still do now! Thank you for your patience as I consolidate things if you already read this.

As I was writing my post Good Mood of the Soul, I came across the research that joy and gratitude often result in an upward spiral. The more we focus on gratitude, the easier it is to perceive joy. And when in the midst of joy, we are more open to gratitude.

So here’s the list of things I’m grateful for this week:

For everyone that is willing to read why I am grateful for

That I can still hear the Click and Clack, the Car Talk brothers in the Cars movies.

The quiet way my three-year-old son says, “you are my best mom friend” to me so that I have to lean down to hear. In that position it goes directly from my ear to my heart.

That we have the ability to take pictures with our hearts.

The way it sounds when my daughter says, “I’m thankful for the tooth fairy.” while missing her two front teeth.

For out-of-the blue notes from individuals I admire telling me something I’ve done right.

That I’ve been able to learn, to some degree, how to fix the things that I’ve done wrong.

That broken eggs make food, literal and metaphorical.

For whoever invented yoga pants and made messy hair look sexy, at least on the West Coast. And if that was only in the 90’s and is no longer a thing, for anyone that continues to let me think that.

Speaking of inventions, whoever invented self-sealing water balloons that fill 20 at a time.

That life keeps giving me opportunities to learn that suffering just softens me up for the next great thing.

For every grown-up that showed me what vulnerability looked like when I was a kid.

For every grown-up that shows me what vulnerability is when I’m a grown-up.

For this necklace I bought on a whim and have worn for 20 years that says, “Strength is having a grateful life” and that I have grown into knowing what that means.

Cool sheets on a hot night.

That I have a bed to sleep in.

Green tea on dark mornings.

That connect-the-dots works in art and in life.

For the human traits of kindness, courage and generosity.

For the Divine traits of grace, faith, hope and love.

For the times I’ve been on my knees needing loyalty, courage, generosity, grace, faith, hope and love – and that what I’ve received in those moments has opened me up to knowing what those traits are in my bones.

I am grateful for upward spirals.

What are you grateful for this week? What have you learned about upward spirals?

(featured photo from Pexels)

Love ‘Em Anyway

Posted in meditationTagged , , , , , , 53 Comments

“I’ve often kidded folks that when you start working with people, the first rule that you live with is, ‘People are weird.’ We are ALL weird, we are all funny combinations of funny stuff. So, what’s that mean for us? How do you love people that are different in a weird sort of way? Well, you just try to help them, wherever they are.” – Dr. Richard H. Leon

Not long ago I was helping someone from my dad’s former church install some technology so that she could do some volunteering. It was the first time that I met this person but she let me know that she knew both my parents. Then she ran down the list of all that she did for the church.

As I nodded while trying to keep focus on the technology at hand, she proceeded to make fun of the people that she would help as a volunteer, in a “I know more and am more way.”

This is something I saw a fair amount of as a pastor’s kid. The desire of a few people to use scripture and participation to prove they were better. Usually, my dad was the intended recipient of these claims, but in a pinch, the pastor’s family would do. To be clear, there were many incredibly lovely people in the churches my dad led that didn’t have anything to prove. More it was that the small minority who wanted to use righteousness as a measure of their worth were often very vocal.

I don’t believe this is limited to Presbyterians specifically, or religion in general, because I’ve seen this across belief systems and in other healing therapies. The subtle yet important shift between using a teaching as a shield and measuring stick versus actually learning from it.

To me, it’s the difference between me claiming that I don’t have any problems because I meditate versus saying I meditate to better handle my problems and faults.

In the end, this has made me reluctant to state that I’ve achieved any level of enlightenment. First, because I think life is going to remind me that I always have more to learn. Second, because I’m wary that hubris blocks growth.

And lastly, because as my dad said in the quote I used for this post, we are all weird. I’m including me and my beloved dad in that “all.” The trick is to try to love everyone, including ourselves, anyway.

(featured photo is my dear dad)

My book about the conversations and my journey to find what fueled my dad’s indelible spark and twinkle can be found on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith

Related posts:

The Longer I Live, The Less I Know

Holding Out for a Hero

Deep Knowing

Observable Characters

Posted in podcastTagged , , , , , , , , 21 Comments

“Nothing is more painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.” – Mary Shelley

“What are you going to be when you grow up?” must be the most frequent question my young kids are asked. For adults that don’t really know them, it’s a good conversation starter. But I think it also indicates how attached our identities are to our work.

It’s what Vicki Atkinson and I talk about in this week’s episode of the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast. Identity at the unemployment office.

One of the fascinating positions that Vicki has held is as a career counselor at the unemployment office. She gives us a glimpse into how the jobs we do become our identity by telling us the stories of some of the people who she coached.

We talk about how being a helper or a boss manifests even when someone is no longer doing that job.

I love Vicki’s powers of observation and ability to draw thru lines – talents that show up when she writes, tells stories, and in the many professional roles she has played.

Here’s a snippet of the podcast where Vicki tells me about the people she met at the unemployment office (with captions so you don’t even have to have the sound on):

Vicki Atkinson and I are big believers in the power of story – to connect us, to create intergenerational healing, and to make meaning out of the events of our lives. Each episode of our podcast starts with someone telling a story in each episode.

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor Episode 72: Smiles from the Unemployment Office

Or subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Links for this Episode:

Episode 72: Smiles from the Unemployment Office on Anchor

Vicki’s personal blog: Victoria Ponders

Vicki’s post: Different is Good

Vicki’s book: Surviving Sue

Wynne’s book about her beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

Related podcast episodes:

Episode 71:  Catching an Edge with Wynne and Vicki

Episode 70: “A” is For Ambivalence with Vicki and Wynne

Episode 69: All You Have To Do Is Ask with Wynne and Vicki

Memoir Writing: Understanding the Why

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“Growing up as a kid, we don’t notice that our parents are growing up too.” – unknown

This post was originally published on 6/7/2023. Heads up – you may have already read this.

In the summer of 2015, I was pregnant with two projects. The most obvious was my daughter, but I was also about to give birth to a memoir about my father. My father had died in a bike accident the day after I finalized plans to become pregnant by invitro fertilization. His death kicked off an urgency to take the recordings I’d made of my conversations with him, and finish the effort I’d begun before he died to write about his life.

I spent the nine months of my pregnancy nurturing both projects, afraid that if I didn’t finish the book I might not be able to after my daughter was born. Then on a night in August 2015, at the end of the day on which I’d finished the very last line edits for the book, I went into labor with my daughter.

Essentially, I gave birth to both at the same time. And both events were joyous, scary, and full of “what now?”

I’ve also come to realize that there is another parallel between book projects and children – our understanding of them grows with time. This is the thing that surprises me the most – that with the benefit of hindsight, I continue to learn about what I myself have written. Who knew that was possible?

Here’s what I mean. I recently was reading Vicki Atkinson’s book Surviving Sue which is about Vicki’s journey with her mom, Sue, who suffered from anxiety, depression, alcoholism, Munchausen’s by Proxy, and Alzheimer’s. On the surface, I wouldn’t have drawn parallels between that and my memoir about my beloved father who didn’t suffer from any of those things.

But reading Vicki’s incredibly insightful, entertaining, and reflective words about her mom as she charted a trail through Sue’s life, I realized that we all navigate a path in our parents’ shadow. Whether we dig deep into what that was and write a memoir about it, or choose to go our own way and not think about it, the influence of a parent, present or absent, is powerful.

I think my beloved dad was an incredibly helpful influence on my life – and yet there are habits of his that I still carry, like aversion to conflict, that I need to heal. Maybe even more so because he didn’t do that work.

As I devoured Vicki’s well-written and insightful book about Sue, I found myself engrossed in the themes that Vicki wrote about, including:

  • Rethinking our parents as people
  • Understanding complicated family members and finding ways to love them anyway
  • Tending to unresolved childhood pain
  • Secrets and lies and how the weight of distortion impacts mental health
  • Dads and daughters and special bonds
  • Grace and patience

Whether the themes related to something in my life or not, reading a memoir from someone like Vicki who has done the work to understand the patterns in theirs is so inspirational. Whether our parents were hurtful or helpful, being able to tell their stories is an incredible gift to ourselves to uncover the a-ha of how their touch continues.

As we search for our “why’s” in life – the power behind what motivates us and defines us, figuring out our parent’s why’s is incredibly illuminating. Watching the way that Vicki uncovers that for her mom in Surviving Sue is like being at an archeology dig. Instructive to see the way she teases out the gems, suspenseful as we wade through the project, and thought-provoking for how we can apply it to our own lives. Then we can uncover, as Vicki does so masterfully, the objects and knowledge that give us the power and a chance for intergenerational healing.  

(featured photo from Pexels)

My book about my beloved father is available on Amazon: Finding My Father’s Faith

Vicki’s book: Surviving Sue print edition

Vicki’s book Surviving Sue Kindle edition

Safety in Stories

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“The one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So, write and draw and build and play and dance and live only as you can.” – Neil Gaiman

Three stories that have come up recently in my house…

#1

Four-year-old Mr. D loves telling the story about the parking ticket I recently got outside my mom’s apartment. Even though I have the pay-to-park app on my phone, I choose not to pay thinking we’d only be inside for 15 minutes. It’s a story I’d rather not think about given that I ended up paying $43 instead of the $2, but I have to admit, he’s told it so many times that it’s starting to get funny.

#2

The other day, Mr. D wanted to wear shoes with laces and put them on himself. He got them on and then tied about 10 overhand knots as we drove to school. I heard him in the back seat say, “Yeah, that looks good.”

#3

We bought a small red velvet cake at the grocery store recently. When eight-year-old Miss O had a slice of it, she pushed all the cream cheese frosting to the side. I asked if she didn’t care for it. When she said she didn’t, I swiped up a finger full. “Ugh,” she groaned and then added, “Sorry, didn’t mean to ‘yuck’ your ‘yum.’”

The Point

One of the things that I aim for in my house, is that we can express ourselves without judgment. That is, I want to be the place where the kids can tell their stories without worrying how they land.

The funny thing is that it’s had a bonus effect on me where I have to get to talk about the bonehead mistakes I make (like the parking ticket.) I’ve found it’s helped greatly to learn to not let my inner editor curate only the stories I want to talk about.

The Bonus

When I talk with my dear friend and podcast partner, Vicki, I get the boost of knowing she is a really safe person to tell stories to. Not that I always communicate well the first time, but she is such a good and encouraging listener, she brings out the vulnerable and brave me.

By contrast, in our most recent podcast, Episode 71, Catching an Edge with Wynne and Vicki, we talk about the unexpected responses we sometimes get to our stories.

I know I’m not alone in being surprised sometimes by how a story is received. We tell about an experience to a person or persons and then are shocked at how it lands. We thought it was funny and they thought it stupid. We thought it was deep and they only appreciate the surface. Whatever it is, it is out of our control for better or worse.

When our inner editor starts curating the content we share, we sometimes short-circuit our ability to be fully seen. So Vicki and I talk about the healing effect of telling our stories, no matter how they land.

Here’s a snippet of the podcast where I tell Vicki about a recent exchange of stories with a long-time friend (6 minutes with subtitles so you don’t have to have the sound on):

Vicki Atkinson and I are big believers in the power of story – to connect us, to create intergenerational healing, and to make meaning out of the events of our lives. Each episode of our podcast starts with someone telling a story in each episode.

Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to it from your computer on Anchor Episode 71: Catching an Edge with Wynne and Vicki

Or subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.

Episode 71 transcript of the podcast

Links for this Episode:

Episode 71: Catching an Edge with Wynne and Vicki on Anchor

Vicki’s personal blog: Victoria Ponders

Vicki’s recently released book: Surviving Sue

Wynne’s book about her beloved father: Finding My Father’s Faith

(featured photo is Mr. D’s well-tied shoes)

In Our Element

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“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” – Carl Jung

We rented an AirBnB over the weekend that touted bunk beds in the laundry room. Clearly the charm of this place lay in its location on a beach on Whidbey Island. And that it accepted dogs.

Mr. D has been calmed by water since day one. The babies that don’t like their first bath? Nope, not Mr. D. What did we do for at least an hour on his first day of daycare? Play in water.

I watched him this weekend pouring water with a clam shell for thirty minutes from one hole to another and then back. An incredibly long time for a four-year-old to stay with one focus. If it weren’t for the tide coming in, it looked like he would have done it for hours.

I wonder if we all have an element we are born with that calls to us. For Miss O, it seems to be singing. First mine and my mom’s, and now her own.

If given the option between beaches and mountains, I’d say “mountains.” One step onto a hiking trail and my stress level drops by five notches. Every step gives me further improvement in my mental health, resilience, and sense of humor.

But I’ve spent more time on these rugged beaches of the Pacific NW than mountains since I’ve had kids. And I’ve found the beaches remind me to breathe out all the stale air I hold in. Whether it’s because Mr. D has water and Miss O can sing by the campfire, or because I can walk along the sea and the surf, I’m not sure. Whatever it is, it works magic.

Who cares if the bunk beds are in the laundry room if the location puts us in our element?

(featured photo is mine – Mr. D by the sea)

Five Ways to Be a Happier Parent

Posted in ParenthoodTagged , , , , , , 43 Comments

“Children are great imitators, so give them something great to imitate.” – unknown

A friend who is pregnant asked if I had any tips. There are so many parenting philosophies and opinions out there. I can’t imagine I have anything to add. Besides, each kid and each parent is so unique.

But I do know what has made me a happier parent.

  1. Finding a way to ground the central nervous system. I remember walking into a room where my kids had spent a happy day hanging out with my brother and his wife. Miss O was about five-years-old and Mr. D was about one-years-old. As soon as they saw me, they started crying and clamoring for my attention.
    It wasn’t that they were unhappy. It’s just that they had spent the longest time away from me so far. I was the lightning rod for the relief they felt after all the bravery and novelty they had experienced.
    Having a way to calm myself – meditation, breathing exercises, time spent in nature – has lessened the overwhelm I feel when my kids need that extra boost.
  2. Understanding that life is a science experiment. One morning when Miss O was about three-years-old, I was trying to get us ready to leave the house to meet my friend, Katie. I found Miss O at the art table where she’d made a huge mess cutting into a squishy into her scissors. I was incredulous, “Why would you do that?”
    When I saw Katie, whose kids are grown, she laughed and said, “Life is a science experiment.” Understanding that has made such a difference to my parenting attitude. We all try things to see what happens next. Sometimes the kids will do this and it messes with my sense of order. But it isn’t personal, just a part of learning.
  3. Following their lead. On a recent Saturday morning, Mr. D and I were out front as he drove a remote control car down the sidewalk. When we were in front of our favorite neighbors’ house, Mr. D said, “Let’s ask them to play.” I demurred, thinking we might bother them, but Mr. D said, “Follow my lead.” I did and my neighbors, a couple in their 70’s were delighted to see us and have a turn to drive the remote control car.
    Dr. Alison Gopnik, a research psychologist at UC Berkley says kids’ neural pathways look like the streets of Old Paris, many, windy paths where you don’t go very fast. They are wired to look for what can teach them the most. On the other hand, our adult brains have neural paths that look like boulevards. Not very many but you can go faster. We are wired for getting things done.
    When we follow kids’ leads, they get us out of our ruts and help us be creative.
  4. Being creative to connect. The early years of parenting can be so isolating. Spending time with other parents who are also overwhelmed, and conversations that are constantly interrupted by attention to little ones often isn’t satisfying. Working, blogging, pursuing one interest that puts you in the path of adults you can connect with has made such a difference.
  5. Accepting that a great and happy parent is perfectly imperfect. I remember walking my dog past a house where a kid was crying when I was pregnant with my first child and thinking, “I’ll never let my kids cry it out.” Hah!
    Giving up the idea that I would be a perfect parent – always calm, with a clean and orderly house, and full of ideas that would keep my kids entertained and screen free – is the best thing I’ve done for myself and them.
    Instead I have come to see that a perfect parent knows if they lose it and yell, they can also show kids how to own it and apologize. And laugh at themselves, and be okay with being flexible with any no screen, all organic, and any other high-minded ideals to do their best for that moment.  

Anything you would add to the list?

(featured photo from Pexels)

I pulled this list from other parenting story posts I’ve told:

The Most Important Work

Posted in ParenthoodTagged , , , , , , 56 Comments

“Children are not a distraction from more important work. They are the most important work.” – C. S. Lewis

Sometimes I think Hallmark has it backwards. Take Mother’s Day for example. My kids didn’t do anything to choose me. I, on the other hand, took a very intentional path to become a mom.

From the realization that I wanted to have kids later in life because I cried whenever I saw Princess Kate pregnant with her oldest child nine years ago, to deciding to do it without a partner (for now), then through IVF three times (I had one miscarriage), I made very deliberate choices to parenthood. I couldn’t be more grateful that I’m a mom.

Here’s the top three reasons why:

I’m so much healthier

You didn’t know me before I had kids. I didn’t write in the period of life when I was numbing my feelings with wine every night. Meditation changed that pattern so that I had a different way to irrigate my irritations.

But having kids has given me so much more practice. That’s a funny sentence. I didn’t mean that they give me many more irritations to irrigate but on some days that’s true too.

Mostly I meant that these beautiful and honest beings have shown me what emotional honesty is. By helping them name their emotions, I’ve learned how to name and feel mine too.

Every day is an adventure

I’m a creature of habit. Without kids, I’d have likely continued my pattern – hike every Saturday, do a big trip every two years. Like my trips to Everest Base Camp, climbing the Via Ferrata routes in the Dolomites, or biking from Vermont to Canada to New York – great trips that totaled about two weeks out of every 104.

But with kids – every day is an adventure of curiosity and learning. We rescue bunnies, dig in the dirt, ride bikes, or sell lemonade. I’m learning to be flexible and adventurous on a daily basis instead of a bi-annual one.

Big messy love

Parenting is the messiest form of love I’ve known. Not just sticky hands and faces but so much laundry, picking up detritus, territorial incursions because of changing boundaries, and spilled over spats between siblings.

But it seems to me, that the messiness that makes it stick like Velcro instead of slide off like a glossy surface. It’s proof that nobody is perfect any we love each other anyway. The repetitiveness reminds me how many chances we have to get it right. Over and over we make a mess. And over and over we get to come together and make it right.

The news has all sorts of stories about what isn’t working in this world. But then a day like Mother’s Day comes around and I look at all the people who are trying their best to love wholeheartedly – with young kids, and old kids, and/or other people’s kids. For me it’s a celebration that love wins.

Going to the Next Level

Posted in inspiration, UncategorizedTagged , , , , , , , , , , , 45 Comments

“I am convinced all of humanity is born with more gifts than we know. Most are born geniuses and just get de-geniused rapidly.” – R. Buckminster Fuller

We are coming to the end of our school year. 28 more school days in third grade for Miss O. And 50 days until Mr. D graduates from his preschool program. Do you remember that feeling as a kid? Being not only ready for summer break but also ready to ascend to that next level?

It has me thinking of what milestones we have in our lives as grown-ups that celebrate our readiness to go on to the next level. There are some big ones like becoming an empty-nester or retirement. Or we have annual ones like birthdays, anniversaries, and New Years. But often, I find myself at those moments planning on what I’m going to do next instead of commemorating what I’ve learned.

Let me suggest that we take a moment to bring back that feeling of finishing a school year. To actually name something we’ve graduated from and celebrate it. I’ll start:

I’ve come to believe that I am enough. Or at least to understand that pretending to be someone else is ineffective. So if a situation or expectations make me feel otherwise, I try to slow enough to double-down on being me long enough to get through.

And by graduating, I don’t mean being done. It brings to mind another graphic from Miss O’s 3rd grade teacher:

It seems fitting on this last day of teacher appreciation week to honor our teachers by naming what we’ve learned. Are you with me? If you are stuck, maybe visit the list from Pick Three Affirmations to find a place to start.

(featured photo from Pexels)

For a story about the circle of life, please listen to our Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast: Episode 66: The Power of Story with Wynne and Vicki.

We are changing our format starting with this episode. Vicki Atkinson and I are big believers in the power of story – to connect us, to create intergenerational healing, and to make meaning out of the events of our lives. To set the stage, we will be starting with someone telling a story in each episode.

To listen to the podcast, Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts. Or subscribe to our YouTube channel to see a video clip of each story: @SharingtheHeartoftheMatter.