Conversations with Nana

The choices we make and how we go about making them can be a test of our relationships. Sometimes we act too hastily or with little introspection. Other times there simply are no right answers and whatever direction we choose means someone will feel distress. Unfortunately, people make mistakes from time to time. Our hope for on-going relationships lies in seeing the situation from the other person’s point of view as well as our own, reviewing all the possible outcomes before jumping into a decision, and understanding our private inner motives and desires. And finally, ability for relationships to survive lies in giving each other the benefit of the doubt in our decision-making.

A version of the exercise in Part 1, taking four opposing positions and trying to fully understand each argument, was originally developed by a group of Japanese schoolchildren. The “Pillow Method” gets its name from the fact that a problem has four sides and a middle, “just like a pillow” (Adler and Towne. Looking Out/Looking In, 7^th Edition. Pages 113-117.) Yet another version of this exercise comes in handy when you find you have to make a decision that requires choosing one thing over many other things of equal value, such as a career path, for example. In the first seat pick one of the things and think about it as your final choice. Continue to the next possible choice. There will be as many seats as there are choices to make. Next, decide to make no choice at all and then imagine all the ensuing consequences. Finally, as impossible as it may sound, decide to choose everything. If you can hold this position for a while, you may actually discover there is a way to have at least a part of some or all. What is needed is letting go of all your preconceived notions about how things work and having a brainstorming session with yourself.

Keep in mind the rules for brainstorming: Don’t criticize any idea that occurs to you, don’t feel obliged to do something just because you thought of it, and feel free to disregard any idea after careful consideration.

If you still have not reached a conclusion, go to the last seat, that one reserved for special circumstances, and imagine how you will benefit from any choice you make, so that once again, the specific choice really doesn’t matter as much as the act of choosing and moving.

Here is yet another version of the same exercise to try when you are in disagreement with yourself. Perhaps, like many of us, you have experienced times when you feel and say that you want something very much and yet you fail to follow through. Examples could be as simple as getting up on time after sleeping, or as serious as working with addictive behavior, such as gambling or excessive shopping.

What you want may be to change a part of yourself, stop a habit, or acquire something through personal effort. You really want this, but to date you have yet to act in a way that will bring it to you. Many people experience ambivalence in some area of life on some occasions. Being ambivalent pretty much stops decision making so that eventually we feel less and less respect for ourselves. After all, if someone else continued to say one thing and do another, we would lose interest fairly quickly.

This exercise is usually drawn out over a long period of time, due to the length of time your ambivalence has been around. It takes awhile to cautiously uncover unknown parts of oneself. The first seat may seem counter-intuitive, but also possibly the easiest, because in it you list all the things you like about the problematic behavior. If, for example, gambling is the behavior, a person might list things like the thrill of winning, the excitement of anticipation, the sense of camaraderie with other gamblers, a sense of personal power. To develop as complete a list as possible, follow the adage of “sleeping on it,” and make the list over time with several breaks in between. As always, this list must be approached with as little negative judgment and as much impartial objectivity as possible in order to be effective. (And, remember, as with any serious problem, this exercise is just one of many tools for insight. It may be necessary to combine many types of intervention to make a lasting change.)

The next three positions can be approached in any order that works for you, or you may want to move back and forth as ideas occur. One position, again possibly an easier task, will be to look at your ideal, the behavior you have been saying you wish you could do. What do you like about it? What are the short and long-term benefits? In our example of not gambling, for instance, you may have more money to save or spend, less debt, or more peace of mind. Even if you don’t think peace of mind is possible, write it down if the thought occurs to you. Part of what you are doing is giving some freedom to your inner life’s mind, the part of you that has been restricted from getting too widely speculative in what “the good life” might really mean. Conversely, this is also the part of your mind that dares not openly admit what you like about the problem behavior. The point in both cases is to begin breaking through the shoulds so there is more freedom to cultivate your own truly positive nature.

The last two positions are to talk and write about what are the disadvantages with the targeted behavior, and then with the ideal, how each negatively affects you both short and long term. It should be fairly easy to think of some things wrong with gambling, for example, because you most likely have a memorized litany you say to yourself every time you affirm your desire to stop. Ultimately, hopefully, your list will go even more deeply than the spoken problems, and some hidden meaningful link will surface and resonate as truth. As to the ideal goal, there will probably be some easy answers at first, such as, stopping gambling will stop you from having fun, or separate you from certain friends. Keep looking, taking some breaks to let things develop organically, and eventually some thoughts may surface that again seem counter-intuitive, maybe even self-defeating. However, the truth is that you have been in this position all along or there would be no problem behavior. Now you are just trying to get to know it the same way you would want to know other people’s important reasons for doing what they do.

Once you have reached understanding — without judgment — the next position is to state “I both want it and don’t want it because…” Seeing both sides is the beginning of true self-understanding, the best path to freedom of choice. Here is a brief chart of possibilities that will aid in understanding the whole picture, thus aid in making satisfactory choices and decisions. 1) One side on the issues:  What, when, how, why, who, where? 2) The other position on the issues: What, when, how, why, who, where? 3) Both positions in union with each other: How can both sides work together to solve the problem? 4) Both positions in opposition to each other: How can we each meet our separate needs? 5) The overall picture: What is the effect for all sides in the long run?

Finally, the very last position seems especially tricky and one that not everyone will want or need to use. In this case, a person takes the seat that says, “it doesn’t matter which I choose because there is something for me to learn in each case.” One somewhat related story comes to mind in which a man was released after thirty years of imprisonment when modern DNA testing proved him innocent. When asked if he was bitter, he responded that, in his final assessment, he was able to learn what the life of a prisoner was like. In the extreme case of a life-threatening addiction, to simply adopt a “whatever” position may prove dangerous if approached without counsel and a new concrete depth of understanding acquired in the previous exercises.

Unfortunately, we don’t always know what it is that we don’t know. In our rush to gain knowledge and be done with lingering irritations, we sometimes tell ourselves we are further along than our strength or stamina provides, and we eventually slip back into old ways. Thus, one of the adages in the addiction fighting twelve-step program, is to admit powerlessness and to keep everything present tense: “Hello, I’m John, and I am an alcoholic.” In such programs, anyone who stated, “I was an alcoholic, but now I know so much more,” would no doubt receive counsel from his or her peers.

The point of the final position is really this: a problem can lessen or slip away entirely when learning instead of changing becomes the goal. Changing something implies there is something wrong with the thing that you want to change. Living in a world of right and wrong is stressful and usually creates rigidity or rebellion. Learning about something implies objective, non-judgmental interest. Without the pressure of needing to agree or disagree, all sides of the story are in view and a final direction usually becomes clear. As a matter of fact, the learning versus changing stance will help in almost any of life’s situations.

End

The Lovin’ Spoonful song says: “Did you ever have to make up your mind? Pick up on one and leave the other behind? It’s not often easy and not often kind. Did you ever have to make up your mind? Did you ever have to finally decide? Say yes to one and let the other one ride? There’s so many changes and tears you must hide. Did you ever have to finally decide?”

Every now and then we have to make choices that ignore the wishes of someone else. Sometimes this single-minded decision can look selfish and stubborn. A choice has to be made and the decision on which way to turn will benefit only one of the people involved. Any number of examples can come to mind, such as choosing from something expensive and one-of-a-kind like a vacation spot, to everyday kinds of arguments like what movie to see, or what to make for dinner. Perhaps there is a moral dilemma involved, such as choosing a path of questionable ethics, or one that looks desirable but goes against your previous ideas of right and wrong. The overriding issue in the scenario is that someone else, or maybe your own inner voice, holds different values, or has different desires that will be met or not through your decision. You are feeling the weight of making the right choice.

How can we choose for ourselves without feeling guilty and selfish? How can we gracefully let go of our independent wishes, and when should we cling with all our might? How can we make a choice between two or more equally important directions? How can we continue to give service to another without sacrificing our own desires? These are the kinds of questions that many good hearts face on occasion. The decisions and choices you make may vary from time to time and may even seem inconsistent as you try to find balance in each design. The point here is that, depending on your choice, you may have to act in opposition to someone else. When this occurs, a basic guideline is to try to avoid making a snap decision. “That is a good question; let me think about it,” is the most prudent answer when confronted with something momentous. Slow down and look at the scene from every angle. In the end, even if you don’t change your mind or your course of action, you will at least feel more confident knowing that you have mulled over several perspectives. How to do that mulling without getting tangled in a net of cross purposes is a skill that can be practiced and learned.

Here is one skill-building idea* in grappling with choices and decisions that are in opposition to those around you:

Imagine a room that holds the heart of your problem. A scroll, or notebook, or piece of paper sits in the center of the room where you record the problem – briefly and only the problem, such as, vacation in Hawaii or pay down the Visa bill

Next, imagine there are several comfortable chairs or large pillows tossed about the room. Each represents a particular overall position of the argument or debate. The point will be to inspect the problem from each position. You can do the following in your mind, or, even better, physically move from seat to seat as you sit through the following positions. You may even want to take one perspective each day and really immerse yourself in it, writing in a journal and/or drawing your responses in picture or symbol form.

The first seat holds the position that says, “I’m right, you’re wrong.” This is probably the easiest to sit through since most of us take this position, anyway, or there wouldn’t be much of an argument. List all the reasons you believe you are right and the other person is wrong. In some cases, you may feel both sides hold value and you want both but can only choose one, (or don’t want either but must choose one of the two.) When this division occurs, simply pick one side to start. Later you will have the same opportunity to explore the other side. Since this is a private exercise that only you will see, be sure to include even those reasons you may think of as childish or foolish. Don’t leave this position until you are sure you’ve covered every aspect. Recording your ideas will help keep everything organized and is a good way to slow down the process.

The next position is opposite to the first one, in which you are wrong and the other person is right (or in which you have simply stepped to the other side of the argument.) Give it the same depth, which may mean an even longer period of time to adjust to this abhorrent idea. Remember to record even the craziest sounding parts to the argument, or the most selfish sounding, for example, “I deserve this no matter what.” By being willing to state even the most unconventional ideas without criticism or negative judgments – remember this exercise is for your eyes only – you will free your mind to offer up the deeper aspects hidden even from you.

Next, repeat the process as this time you think of all aspects that make both sides right, even if only in part. Finally, spend time with the reverse, those parts that make both sides wrong. You’ve already worked out the rights and wrongs above, so ideas will be at hand for both these seats, however these last two positions are asking for something more. This is the opportunity to ease out of the rigid stance that says there is only one right answer. More so, you can begin here to see that choosing one position does not mean the opposite one is wrong. After a person sits in these two seats, he or she may be able to choose more confidently precisely because he/she will see the value in the other side as well, and be better able to offer compassion and kindness as the decision is made.

Several things may happen in this exercise. The other person’s position may make more sense to you, your own position may become firmer and clearer, or you may see a middle way you had overlooked before. If none of that happens, there is a final seat, reserved for special occasions, a philosophy that ultimately whatever decision you make really doesn’t matter. Granted, some lessons are more humbling than others, but you are bound to learn something no matter where you land. If you get to this stage, you may find that a lot of what previously seemed like a burning issue is really not so great a bonfire after all. Hopefully, you will discover what a solid and meaningful decision feels like.

I didn’t really know I was a social phobic until I was in my 40’s and starting my most important job up to then. In looking back I now can see serious performance anxiety appearing as early as about six years old. At that time, I sobbed in abject panic as I begged my mother not to make me try to entertain her friends with a song or dance. Then there was Camp Little Bear, where my girlfriend and I, maybe 8 years old, stood together on stage well rehearsed and ready to sing to our fellow campers and counselors. She began and ended the song while I stood in involuntary silence with my mouth open but with no sound coming forth. Elvis had left the building. I was about 12 when I actually fainted – as I opened my mouth to begin singing with other choir members. The next public display was at a high school conference where I was asked to read a passage out loud and I so lost control of my voice that it warbled through my chattering teeth. And yes, everyone stared.

Still, I did not see these isolated events as any way connected to each other or to my ability to perform. Only after I started teaching, and my fear escalated until I had passed out in three different classroom settings, did I seek professional help. At first the clammy, blank feeling that signaled I might faint could occur anytime during the dreaded event, but over time and with psychological and pharmaceutical help, the anxiety was contained to before and right up to the moment I started speaking. Once I actually started and could see that my performance was ok, things would relax.

Anxiety can be defined by physical feelings in the body, especially the stomach and chest, such as shakiness, feeling woozy or faint, even diarrhea. A phobia, much more intensely and acutely felt, develops due to one’s thoughts about the anxiety. The phobia part of anxiety is the fearful anticipation that the worst is going to happen. The dread of what might happen becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, bringing on that very thing. For me the slightest early sensation of shallow breathing or clammy skin was enough to paralyze me. Passing out at the crucial moment of performance was pretty much for me the worst that could happen, so that in the early days of the phobia I needed anti-anxiety medication in order to be able to create a positive outcome to learn from. Finally, after years of successful public presentations, supported by medication, behavioral and talk therapy, an arsenal of contingency plans, and simply having opportunities to behave confidently in general, I could finally say, “So this is what it feels like to be normal.”

Recently, however, what I thought I knew about myself under stress changed, as I entered a new field of self-discovery. About a year ago I had a stroke. For the first ten months or so after the stroke, I felt wrapped in the arms of peace far greater and unrehearsed than the learned relaxation of my teaching days. Although I was cognizant, understanding and being understood, events around me, no matter how potentially disturbing or anxiety filled, just didn’t bother me. I was automatically operating in an almost blissful state of “let it go, let it be, everything will work out as it should, all is well.” But social anxiety must lurk inside like a dormant, opportunistic virus, for mine, apparently, was just waiting for new inroads.

It has taken me some time to track how the old unfounded dread of teaching days started to surface again, this time intimately connected with my body’s new post-stroke limitations. Because of the stroke, my left leg and arm muscles spasm or cramp when under as simple a stress as stretching to take a step up stairs. Regular exercise and strength building help somewhat, but I was told that the curving and locking is “pattern” that may or may not change over time. Walking is difficult now. It requires paying attention to my surroundings, while concentrating on balance, pace, and which foot to use for each task. My relaxed foot drags, so that, even with the help of a moderate leg brace, I have to remember to place it flat before applying weight and to lift with my thigh muscles to take a step.

Stepping off a curb, for example is scary, and something like the old phobia days: my fear of falling is directly connected to my toes curling under and my foot locking up, so it is hard to tell which comes first and which response causes the other. But one behavior has been repeated enough times for me to see a sign of the old social anxiety: I will be walking along fairly well with my foot relaxed and my toes flat until I encounter another or others in close proximity. They may want to pass, or perhaps have to wait as I pass first. The worst is when I am inching my way over a crosswalk while drivers sit at the wheels of their cars waiting. Now I am no longer invisible, I am thrust in the middle of a social situation where I am expected to perform smoothly and quickly – or at least that’s what my mind says.

A friend was trying to grasp what I could possibly fear. “You think people will get mad at you for walking slowly?” This is where my mind wants to complicate things. The reason I really don’t mind my wobbly, awkward appearance when walking is most likely I don’t have to observe it. There are seldom mirrors exposing me to myself in public places, and, fortunately, no one is videotaping. But I do mind my foot cramping at crucial times and thus slowing me down even further just because I feel so unexpectedly out of control.

In the case of my mind’s old programming, people won’t be mad at me, but just mad and impatient, inconvenienced during their busy scurrying about. Exercise can only do so much. Therefore, I am currently thinking of the cramping as a phobic response, and I am mentally reviewing my old lessons in working with social anxiety. My work is not to concentrate on how we all need to slow down, or how foolish of me to think they care, or even how I should not care that they care. Those are all good suggestions for other types of people, but my work is precisely this: Although my petty mind wants to think I am a worm, my deeper truth is that I am a good person. I always make every effort to accommodate others, and I try never to take advantage. Therefore, ironic as it sounds, I’ve earned the favor of causing inconvenience whenever the need demands and I cannot do otherwise.

Good afternoon, Jan. Your new assignment, should you choose to accept it: move the idea to your memory and on to your belief system. This tape will not self-destruct.

8/7/12

I read with horror and tears Sunday’s story about the two year tracking of a child rape ring that spread across two continents and caused the arrest of 43 so far. Denise Lavoie’s excellent journalism, from the clever opening paragraph through the step-by-step forensics was engaging and chilling.

But as I read about the accidental yet intricate set of clues that led to the criminals’ unraveling, I couldn’t help but think that this part of the story was, for the casual reader, really only entertainment, albeit fascinating and as well crafted as any segment of Law and Order. Isn’t it possible that this kind of investigative information, so precisely laid out, will also be read by other predators and used to hone their skills at avoiding detection?

I’m brought back to the old question, when does effective journalism cross into sensationalism (not in this case), or, in this case, too much information?

8/5/2012

Molly, my neighbor’s golden cocker, was spayed in her youth, but she still gives off a seasonal estrus scent. She’s not truly interested in mating, but her mixed breed suitor, a much larger and younger dog, doesn’t seem to care about her disinclination to present herself. Molly, contrary to her constant companion during these heady days, is a middle-aged matron, probably a many-great-grandmother by now, having had one litter in her pre-surgical youth. Apparently, she loves her young blond stud’s attention, because when he is not around I see her trot through my yard over to his and then trot back again with him right on her tail, literally.

During these flirty times, old man Spike, who pretty much sleeps all day, comes alive, and follows the amorous pair around like a chaperone. Spike is a tall, muscular type of bulldog, with a broad flat nose and a language in his large brown eyes that ranges from aggressive guardian to trusted friend. He allows the boyfriend close proximity to Molly, but when too close, his warning growl causes Boyfriend to plop down on the spot, as if to say in his own defense, “I’m not doing anything.”

Today I don’t see Spike anywhere, probably tired of all the running back and forth in the futile game of keeping them apart. Molly, an occasional visitor, is sitting on my back porch stretched against the wall. Boyfriend has arrived and is standing next to her watching me to see if I mean him ill will. Satisfied that I don’t, he returns to his business. He is a polite young male, not rough or abusive, without rape in his heart. On the contrary, his mating intention is to spark Molly’s mutual interest.

He starts by putting his nose under her tail for a sniff and a gentle shove. She hardly reacts, except to look at me with a bland expression in her eyes, as if to say, “What’s a girl to do?” She continues to pant which gives her the appearance of smiling. After the licking and nuzzling of her genitalia proves ineffective, Boyfriend steps around and works with her nipples, nosing them like a puppy going for a drink. This maneuver gets her attention, and she turns her still smiling face in his direction. As if a silent signal has passed between them, Boyfriend momentarily glances up at Molly, and then dives back in with greater intensity. He nuzzles her belly and along her side, a lover’s gentle massage.

However, not much has really changed. Molly may be smiling, but her placid body is definitely non-committal. Boyfriend stands up straight again, looking down on her, as if in thought. He repositions himself and lies alongside her, his head next to hers. He lays one paw over hers, which she accepts, and on his other paw he settles his long jaw. The happy couple rest side by side for about ten seconds before Boyfriend begins yet another creative approach.

This time he nuzzles under Molly’s neck ruff, jaw line, and up under her floppy ears. She seems to lean into his caresses, although it’s hard to tell because her back is pressed against the wall and she may simply have no choice. When his roving muzzle becomes more insistent, rougher, Molly finally begins to move and extricate herself from the press of his bulky weight. She stands with her back to him and slowly starts to move a step away – not a real presentation but good enough for Boyfriend. He mounts her, which she allows. He squats on his hind legs like a circus dog, so that, as he locks his front legs through her back ones, he, not Molly, is bearing the weight of his larger body. The final movement is quick and I would bet all external. Boyfriend is satisfied and trots off toward home. Molly follows him about a foot behind with not so much as a turn of her head in the direction of her tail.

Spike sleeps a yard away in the shade.

I was sitting on the front porch, at home in Costa Rica, facing the big garden, an expansive mix of flowering tropical plants, palms and ferns, surrounded by a tall hibiscus hedge, and  overhung that day with a midmorning cloud streaked sky.

Two yellow-breasted birds circle and land on the electrical line over the front yard. After sitting together for a few moments, one flies off in a large sweep while the other remains perched in place.  Shortly, the first bird returns to his or her place on the wire with something in its mouth, and the two join their half-open beaks in what looks like a gentle kiss. A kiss, except there is the transfer of something from beak to beak – a bug? a crumb of leftovers from the garbage?

This sweep is repeated several times, the same one flying off and the other one waiting on the wire. When the feeder bird leaves to get more food, the other bird, the one being fed, flies out in a little circle, then lands again, stretches its head up high, and opens it’s beak like a funnel, reminiscent of baby birds in the nest. The waiting bird’s juvenile behavior continues until the first bird returns with its special delivery food service. After several rounds, the two fly off together, ending the somewhat bizarre display.

What was I watching? Perhaps a mother feeding her last hatchling? These two birds were matched in size and flight skills, so the baby bird theory is unlikely. Could this be courting behavior? If so, is it the female doing the feeding or the one being fed? Is this a teaching exercise, or a playful game, or maybe a doctor bird administering medicine? What?

I asked the uniformed attendant at the park station about this ambiguous behavior but she said she had never heard of it. And I have not seen it since.