Half full or half empty

Perspective. It’s what makes the difference between coping well with misfortune, or falling apart. It determines whether we’re happy with what we have, or always wanting something more. It can turn an event into a huge stressor or a minor bump in the road.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, perspective is everything.

The hurricane barely affected me – a cancelled flight and a messy yard. But the devastation and loss elsewhere is on a scale that is almost overwhelming. Yet, even some of the hardest hit people are able to put their situations in perspective, like the man I saw quoted in the newspaper who had no power and was waiting in a gas line, but was grateful that he didn’t lose anything more; or the people who lost their homes and all their possessions, but were happy they didn’t lose their lives or their families.

It’s the meaning we give to events that makes them more or less stressful to us. Our ability to reframe a situation, to view it more positively, is affected by our personality type, by overall wellness, and often, by something called “hardiness”.

The term hardiness, and the idea of a “hardy” personality, came out of research done back in the 1980s with the breakup of the Bell Telephone companies. Dr. Salvatore Maddi did a long-term study of telephone company employees to find out how they dealt with the stress of job loss or change. What he found was that hardiness was a determinant of how resilient people were in the face of stress, whether they were able not just to survive, but to thrive.

The people he designated as “hardy” had three important beliefs that helped them during adversity: an attitude of commitment that drove them to be involved in events rather than isolated; an attitude of control, which helped them work to influence the outcome of events, instead of passively accepting them; and an attitude of challenge which motivated them to look at the unexpected changes as an opportunity to learn.

So when we see neighbors helping each other after the storm, we are witnessing a form of commitment. When we see people taking out their own chain saws and cutting up downed trees, opening up fire hydrants for water, or walking miles to work, we see them taking control of the outcome. And when we see people hoisting water up to an 8th story window by ropes, cooking dinner on their outdoor grills, or huddling around a satellite TV truck to pick up a WiFi signal, we see that they are accepting the challenge of the situation and learning new ways to get the things they need.

We can’t forget, however, that some of the hardest-hit people did not come into this situation with a great deal of resilience or wellness. They were barely surviving as it was, because of economic uncertainty, poor health, or both. For them, and for people who suffered the most devastating losses, their emotional and physical reserves will be exhausted quickly. I’m gratified by how quickly power is being restored in some areas, but there are other places, and many people, who will need our help for a very long time.

The American Psychological Association has some guidelines on their web site for dealing with traumatic stress, such as after a disaster. Many of them come from the research on hardiness and resilience. The American Red Cross, in addition to providing for physical needs, also provides emotional assistance to people affected by the disaster. Please consider making a donation to them.

Well, we all need someone we can lean on, And if you want it, well, you can lean on me.”   (Keith Richards, Let It Bleed)

Life’s illusions

Oscar Wilde wrote, “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” Are we really unable to be authentic when others can see who we are?

The word “authentic” is frequently associated with performance. The actress Annette Bening has said that “the actor is a perfect metaphor to get at that theme of ‘how do we find our authentic selves?’” She says that we all “perform ourselves…as a way of searching” for our voice.

What does it mean to be authentic? For a person, it is to be genuine, trustworthy and reliable; in other words, true to one’s self. But we see all the time the difficulty that people have in being true to their own character. From the presidential campaign to the creation of a Facebook page, many of us are constantly striving to create ourselves, or the illusion of our selves. What is real? What is false? If we don’t know ourselves, how can those around us know? How can they trust us?

Everyone is looking for real and “authentic” experiences. We look for them when we travel to a new place; when we buy products (“Coke. It’s the Real Thing”); and when we watch reality television (“Real Housewives”); yet it seems that the more we plug something as real, the less real it becomes.

In existentialism, authenticity is thought to be the extent to which a person is faithful to his or her own spirit or personality. Even in the face of external pressures, an authentic person maintains his own integrity. If a person is not living authentically, life will lose meaning, and there is the possibility of succumbing to boredom, anxiety and hopelessness. It’s the same thing as not living your values – and it often becomes a source of inner conflict and stress.

Children put on masks at Halloween, in part to try out different roles, to become something they dream to be. In adolescence, they try to solidify who they are; in fact, Erik Erikson said that the major task of adolescence is developing self-identity. But just because we supposedly know who we are as adults doesn’t mean that we always feel comfortable showing it to the world. The desire to be accepted, to attain professional success, or to avoid pain often forces us to wear masks.

The problem with wearing a mask is that it is uncomfortable over the long term, even suffocating. I think most of us want very much to be authentic, to be comfortable in our own skin and to be with others who are. We can all think of people in our lives with whom we are most at ease; and sometimes we are lucky enough to meet new people who make us feel that way too. Chances are that those people are living authentically – they are open, interested, and non-judgmental. You meet them at a party or a meeting, and go home with a glow from talking to them.

Can we each let go of our fear a little, and make more of our encounters authentic? Alanis Morissette has said that she felt liberated after she realized “that secrecy is actually to the detriment of my own peace of mind and self, and that I could still sustain my belief in privacy and be authentic and transparent at the same time.”

Masks are fun on Halloween and Mardi Gras, allowing us to be something we’re not. Enjoy the freedom of being just who you are the rest of the year.

Our essence

Do you consider yourself to be a spiritual person? Do you have only the vaguest idea of what that means? Does it matter?

Spirituality is one of those amorphous words that mean different things to different people. That’s part of why it’s a mistake to draw too many conclusions from the new religious affiliation study by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life. While the number of people who say they are not affiliated with any religion has grown to 20% of adults, 37% of those people say that they are spiritual; and even among those who do affiliate with a religion, many say they are “spiritual, but not religious”.

Spirituality is important for health, which is why it is one of the Six Dimensions of Wellness. Its role is to bring together the other dimensions by providing meaning and purpose to our lives. It is not enough to be physically, intellectually or socially healthy if there isn’t an overarching “world view” supplying significance to our actions. Herbert Benson, in his book, Timeless Healing, discusses the idea that humans might be the only species with a sense of our own mortality. If our brains were not wired to “harbor beliefs” that there is a deeper meaning to life, we could easily be overcome by dread and fear.

More and more research shows that people who are religious or spiritual are healthier and live longer than those who are not. The problem is that most studies are based on religion rather than that vague “spirituality” because it is easier to measure. So it’s somewhat unclear where the health benefits come from – the belief itself, the healthy behaviors required by some religions, or the social support that comes from belonging to the religious community?

Unlike religion, each of us can personally define spirituality. At its core, it is about feeling connected to something larger than ourselves. As we become more spiritual, we focus on others more than just ourselves, and move away from material things as a source of meaning. So how do you tell if and how you are spiritual? One good way is to ask yourself where you are and what you are doing when you have feelings of spirituality. In the Pew study, about 58% of people said that they have a deep connection with nature and the earth. For many, spirituality can be found most easily in nature.

What are your beliefs and values? Are you putting them into practice in your life? For many of us, stress results when there is conflict between our values and our actions. The Dalai Lama says, “I don’t see any difference between religious practice and daily life. One can do without religion, but not without spirituality.” He calls spirituality “the full blossoming of human values that is essential for the good of all.”

Other characteristics of a spiritual nature are compassion for others, having the capacity to love and to forgive, altruism, and the ability to experience joy. Even if you feel that you are lacking in one of these areas, they can all be developed and enhanced through practice. Whether it’s volunteering in your community or engaging in compassion meditation, there is a way to cultivate greater spiritual connection.

The root word of spirituality, spirit, comes from the Latin word for breath. A sense of spirituality may be as natural to us as breathing. We not only need it to live, we need it to live well.

Getting to someplace safe

Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.

Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.

Wouldn’t you like to get away?

Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name

And they’re always glad you came.

The theme song from “Cheers” is the first thing that popped into my head when I started contemplating the idea of having a safe space. A place where “everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” appeals to me, and may have had something to do with the popularity of the show during the eleven years it aired on TV.

The studio where I practice yoga is called “Sacred Space”, but I often think of it as a “safe space” for that exact reason. Everyone there makes a point of learning, remembering and saying people’s names. It’s an incredibly simple, yet powerful, way to make people feel welcome and known. Well, of course, you might say, it’s a yoga studio; they’re going to make that effort. Unfortunately, my experience tells me that it is the exception rather than the norm.

What makes a place a safe space? The safety we seek could be physical, mental or emotional. For some, a safe space might simply be a place they feel protected from physical harm. For others, it’s the place where they feel comfortable enough to speak freely. Or it’s the place where they feel accepted and loved unconditionally, just as they are.

Once, when talking with a landscape designer, she told me that people don’t like to sit outdoors with their backs exposed. So she would plan a row of trees or shrubs behind a seating area. In the same way, we feel safe emotionally when we know that someone “has our backs”, supporting us, not leaving us exposed. Who has your back? Is it your family, a friend, a community? How does knowing you have backup change how you go through life?

Sometimes the safe space is where we go when we need to get away from our own negative emotions. The term “breathing room” often refers to a break, or respite, from work or other stressors that are weighing on us. Thich Nhat Hanh, however, recommends that people have an actual breathing room in their homes, a designated place to go when feeling overwhelmed by anger or other strong emotions. He writes, “That little room should be regarded as an Embassy of the Kingdom of Peace. It should be respected, and not violated by anger, shouting, or things like that. When a child is about to be shouted at, she can take refuge in that room. Neither the father nor the mother can shout at her anymore. She is safe within the grounds of the Embassy. Parents sometimes will need to take refuge in that room, also, to sit down, breathe, smile, and restore themselves. Therefore, that room is for the benefit of the whole family.”

A safe space is where people are valued, and have values in common. It’s the place where we are free of judging and being judged, the place where the masks come off and we can be our truest selves. It can be outdoors or indoors, a physical space or a room in our minds; it can be found in the covers of a book or the warmth of a hug, the darkness of a theatre or the stillness of a church, in a community of people or the solitude of nature.

Growth comes from leaving our comfort zones, but it shouldn’t mean leaving them behind for good. I don’t think growth would be possible if we didn’t know we could return to that part of the comfort zone that holds our safe space. When we fail, when we feel rejected, even when we’re just plain tired, we need a refuge. When we’re overwhelmed by life’s ups and downs, we need shelter. Where is your safe space?

Reading for a better life

Reading for pleasure has always held a central place in my life, but I’ve long realized that it’s not so for everyone. In spite of the evidence however, reading does seem to be alive and well, at least in wonky Washington D.C. People packed the various tents at the National Book Festival this weekend, listening to authors read from their works and checking out resources to encourage reading, especially for kids.

According to the National Education Association, children who read regularly at home are more successful in school. Parents who want to give their kids that head start were out in full force at the festival, taking advantage of booths sponsored by PBS, Scholastic and other purveyors of kid fare.

Scholastic’s slogan for its global literacy campaign is “Read Every Day, Lead a Better Life,” a simple but profoundly true statement. Their research shows that kids who grow up in homes where there are lots of books tend to stay in school longer than children who don’t have that advantage. Plus, the more you read, the better reader you become, which has important implications for us as a society.

Proliteracy.org cites statistics that 43% of the people with the lowest literacy live in poverty. Low literacy also leads to increased health care costs, including a 50% increase in risk for hospitalization. Low literacy reduces our national productivity, and leads to lower civic engagement. While adult literacy programs are very important and effective, getting young children hooked on reading is really the key to turning those statistics around.

Every state was represented at the festival, promoting humanities and literacy, touting notable books about their states, and celebrating famous authors who hail from their states. Programs like “One Maryland, One Book 2012”, a statewide community reading program, were also on display.

When I visited, Sandra Cisneros was reading from her book in the Literature tent, while Douglas Brinkley was discussing his new biography of Walter Conkrite in another. Meanwhile, people were waiting in line outside the huge Barnes and Noble tent, just to get in so that they could buy books!

The great thing about reading is that it offers such a world of possibilities. We can learn about the lives of actual people, we can read fantasies about worlds that don’t exist, we can experience the rhythms of poetry, or we can enjoy the exploits of superheroes. There truly is something for everyone inside the cover of a book.

For me, reading is a distraction from stress, a journey into other lives, a source of ideas, and at times, pure joy. I read every day, and I think I have a better life because of it.

So maybe life is a journey

It’s amusing while driving on a long trip to read people’s vanity license plates and wonder about their messages. A couple of months ago, somewhere in the Carolinas, I saw this on a car:

NOTDONE

The message has stayed on my mind ever since. I think it’s because it can be either very straightforward or deeply profound in its meaning. I speculated that it might relate to food or cooking – maybe a chef or a baker drives the car. But it also occurred to me that the driver is saying, “I’m not done” with life, that he has some sort of “bucket list” of things to do, and isn’t finished with it yet. That’s what keeps me pondering it.

When are we finished? When have we done everything we want to do, or think we should do? These kinds of questions can dog our daily life – the never-ending “to-do” list – as well as our overall feelings about achieving goals, making a difference, being satisfied with life. A young person struggling with what to do next told me recently that it surprised her when other people admired her for being so successful in her work. She didn’t feel successful; she felt as if she still had so much to do to get where she wanted to be. In her friends’ eyes, though, she looks like a success right now.

What is success? We equate it with fame and fortune, reaching some sort of end point, accomplishing something big or difficult. In my thesaurus, however, the first synonym for the word success is fulfillment, which to me implies that it is possible to be successful, while still being “not done”, if you feel fulfilled by what you do. The flip side is that someone could have all the money and fame in the world and still not be successful if a sense of fulfillment isn’t there.

Yoga teaches us to practice detachment from results. Detachment doesn’t mean a lack of feeling or emotion, rather a letting go of the outcome of events. As Kate Holcombe explains it, “…detachment means that you strive toward your goal, but if things don’t go the way you want them to, your sense of Self is not shattered…This has the effect of keeping you in the present moment of your action or practice rather than being distracted by thinking about the outcome.” In other words, focus on the satisfaction that your life and work offer right now, while still acknowledging that work remains to be done.

Another instructive lesson comes from Soren Gordhamer in his book, Wisdom 2.0. He relates the story of a martial arts student who goes to a master to learn everything he can. The student wants to work as hard as he can to achieve mastery as quickly as possible; but every time he says he’ll work harder in order to finish his studies sooner, the master says that it will take even longer. When the student asks why, the master tells him, “’With one eye focused on your destination, there is only one eye left with which to find the way.’”

I went to a time management workshop once where were advised to write our goals in the present tense, rather than the future. So a goal like “I will become a writer,” became “I am a writer,” and “I will exercise every day” became “I exercise every day.” It was a way of visualizing ourselves where we wanted to be. But it’s also a way of staying present-focused, of realizing that the person I want to be is here inside me right now, and that the steps I’m taking now are what will bring fulfillment.

So we may forever be “not done”, but by keeping both eyes on the path, with an occasional glance at the destination, we may find that the journey is quite successful.

What it means to be happy humans

Today I attended a discussion on the question, “Are we losing our humanity?” It was a wide-ranging conversation on what it means to be human, how the study of humanities serves us, and what it means to put the humanities into practice in daily life.

One of the many topics that came up was reading, and the importance of reading in helping us develop as human beings. One of the panelists commented that “reading is the vehicle for getting us into narrative,” and that narratives (stories) teach us about human behavior, which can be the basis for discussions about society.

This reminded me of something that my children’s elementary school principal used to say: “Reading is the way in, writing is the way out.” Although she never specified in and out of what, I have some ideas on it in the context of what I heard today: Reading is the way in to your mind, to your inner self, to a deeper understanding of life. Writing (and other forms of expression, especially speaking) is the way out to the world, out to society, out of yourself and into your community.

So to “do” humanities involves engagement in the world. But that’s another area that troubled some of today’s panelists – what is true engagement, true connection, in today’s world? Technology allows us to “talk” all the time, but does it help us listen, truly listen, to others? Certainly we’ve seen that the decline of listening has made us less tolerant of others’ opinions, and less likely to change our own.

Part of that issue is the shrinking of people’s attention spans. We communicate in ever more truncated “language”, we engage in shorter and shorter bursts of activity, and our brains are changing accordingly. Many of us would be hard-pressed to sit and listen to someone for any length of time. In order to be fully engaged as citizens of the world and members of our communities do we need to reverse that trend? Should we be re-training our brains to be able to pay attention and focus for longer periods? There was talk today of the “slow reading” movement – literally an attempt to get people to “move away from the computer” for a while and sit with a book, reading slowly and carefully, even re-reading favorite texts.

Modern life has been made easier by technology and by many of the societal changes that have occurred; but I don’t think that people are really much happier than they were two or three generations ago. Martin Seligman and others who study happiness have developed a three-part model of what happiness is. It includes positive emotion (the kind that comes from having pleasurable experiences), engagement (being in the “flow”, fully absorbed by some activity), and meaning. Tweeting and texting and multi-tasking might provide moments of pleasure, but I doubt that they can generate that feeling of flow that comes with full engagement, let alone supply meaning to our lives.

Engagement and meaning are more likely to be found in reading a book that touches something in your soul; listening to music that moves you; seeing a piece of art or a play that provokes ideas or controversy; writing a letter or a journal; or learning something new. The ways that we assimilate those experiences and make them a part of us opens the door for a deeper connection with others and something larger than ourselves. That’s what makes us happy.

So maybe the question is, are the humanities the key to more happiness in life?

Looking in the mirror

“What did I receive today? What did I give today? What troubles did I cause others today?” These are the questions that form the core of the Japanese meditation practice called Naikan. It is not about keeping score; rather, it is a way of putting life in perspective and acknowledging our interdependence.

The word “Naikan” can be translated as “inside looking”. The practice was developed by Yoshimoto Ishin in Japan as an accessible method of structured self-reflection. In the U.S., the ToDo Institute offers programs in Naikan and other methods of purposeful living. They refer to the practice of Naikan as being like a “shift from a zoom lens to a wide-angle lens”.

So what did I receive today?

  • A good cup of coffee made for me by my husband
  • An invitation from my friend for dinner
  • Pleasure from the butterflies attracted to our yard by the bush my husband planted
  • I wore a robe that was given to me by my mother
  • A walk on safe sidewalks and streets in my neighborhood built by my county government

What did I give today?

  • I bought groceries and made dinner for my family
  • I invited my neighbor to walk with me
  • I listened to the chatty person who kept me from my work
  • I collected things I no longer need so I can give them to charity

What troubles did I cause others today?

  • I kept the light on when my husband was trying to sleep
  • I hurried my son when he was talking to me so that I could read the newspaper
  • I was impatient with people in the store parking lot

Practicing Naikan reflection can help alleviate stress too. By stopping to appreciate the things other people do for us, we acknowledge that they have a choice, and we can’t just expect that they will do what we want. That helps us let go of rigid ideas of the way things are “supposed” to be. At the same time, by reflecting on the trouble we might be causing others, we become aware of the ripple effect of our actions and the possibility that they might be the source of some of the conflict in our lives.

Asking the questions can be revealing. Did my impatience impact how someone else’s day went? Am I failing to appreciate someone who is doing a lot for me? What would others say that I gave them?

Taking the time to examine my day, even down to the tiniest interactions, takes me out of the “I’m the center of the universe” mindset and reminds me that every day I depend on others to do their jobs, to make me smile and to challenge me to be my best self. President Obama’s recent comment, “You didn’t build that,” was taken out of context and criticized by many of his opponents. But what I think he meant to say was, “You didn’t build that alone.” Our success, good fortune, and wellbeing are not just a result of our own choices, actions and temperament; they are built on the cumulative choices and actions of people who came before us and who work and live alongside us.

As Albert Schweitzer once said, “Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me.”

Be kind

“Be kind, for everyone you know is fighting a harder battle,” says the Plato quote that is on the plate displayed in my kitchen. “Be kind…be kind…be kind…” Why is it so hard to keep that mantra in my head?

For instance, I’m always baffled by how quickly after finishing a yoga class I can sometimes be not nice to someone! Whether it’s swearing at another driver, or snapping at a store clerk, it seems that my mellow mood evaporates as soon as I walk out the door. Why is that?

Like compassion, kindness is easier when the recipient is someone we love, or someone vulnerable, or someone clearly suffering through no fault of his own. It is much more difficult to practice when the other person is a stranger, or someone unlikeable, or someone who has clearly done something wrong. Being kind in that situation requires a degree of mindfulness and intention that needs to be cultivated purposefully in most of us.

Emotions like anger or impatience are always preceded by a thought, if only for a split second. That’s the moment when we have a choice of how to respond to a situation. Too often, we get trapped by our notions of how things should be, and our “choice” of response is harsh and unkind. Strangely, though, we don’t usually feel better after yelling at someone, but we do have feelings of well-being after acting kindly.

Olpin and Hesson have developed a framework of “levels of responding.” At one end of the spectrum are attachment, rightness, judgment, blaming, resistance and complaining – responses that are usually not effective and result in negative emotions. At the other end are observation (noticing without judgment), discovery (seeking to learn and understand), acceptance and gratitude – responses that are more effective and result in positive emotions. Studies conducted by Sonja Lyubomirsky  and others also show that people who practiced a variety of random acts of kindness experienced an increase in happiness.

It’s so easy to make every situation personal. Why did she do that to me? Why did that person cut me off? Why is he so mean to me? It might not have anything to do with me. It might be accidental, it might be that the person is having a bad day; it might be that the person is in pain. When we stop judging, stop personalizing, and start trying to understand, it becomes a lot easier to respond with kindness, or at least with acceptance.

Kahlil Gibran wrote, “I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.” Plato’s reminder in my kitchen makes me realize that kindness is not something to master, but something to practice. Luckily, I meet someone every day who gives me the chance to do just that.

Something to teach, something to learn

Today I learned that my new yoga teacher is about to be a high school senior. I knew she was young, but not that young. She had just led us through a vinyasa flow class that was challenging, yet gentle; energetic, yet calming. Everyone thought it was great.

I am amazed by the grace and composure of this 17-year-old. When I think back to myself at that age, I can’t imagine even doing what she does, let alone doing it so well.

What makes a good teacher? Passion, confidence, knowledge? Along with those attributes, I believe that a good teacher cares deeply about her students, demonstrates it, and has the wisdom to know that there is as much to learn from them as there is to teach to them.

We benefit most as students when we let go of any expectations we have about what our teacher should be. Age, sex and size don’t define a talented yoga teacher, just as degrees and credentials don’t define talent in a college professor. Losing the words “should”, “ought”, and “must” from our vocabulary opens the door to invaluable experiences, and prevents a lot of the stress that comes from the belief that situations have to evolve in a certain way. Opening that door prepares us to engage, learn and make the most of what life, and our teachers, offer.

Certainly I used to be more rigid than I am today. From my children, I learned to be patient and adaptable. From my older relatives, I learned about dignity. From my friends, I learned to be compassionate and understanding. From my neighbors, I learned about community. From difficult people, I learned to forgive and let go.

Perhaps the most self-discovery comes when the lines between teacher and student blur, and we realize that there is something to be learned from everyone we meet. Every interaction is an opportunity to uncover something we already knew, but weren’t seeing. I only hope that I am able to touch other people the way my new yoga teacher touches me.