Learning about mindfulness from The Mentalist

Have you ever been upset with someone, frustrated because they didn’t understand what you needed from them, only to have them say, “I’m not psychic you know!” The message, of course, is that we can’t read each other’s minds, so how can we possibly know what another person feels or needs?

But the reality is that we really don’t have to be psychic to know some basic things about other people; we just have to pay attention.

In case you’ve never seen The Mentalist, it’s about Patrick Jane, a man who at one time pretended to be a psychic. In reality, he just has very keen powers of observation and a lot of chutzpah. His arrogance as a fake psychic caused his family to be murdered, however, so he stopped pretending, and went to work for the police, helping them solve criminal cases.

Of course, The Mentalist is a fictional TV show, but it’s fascinating to watch as the character explains what he knows about a suspect or a witness, just from observing or talking with them. Body language, clothes, nervous habits, accents, the things we surround ourselves with – they tell our story, if anyone takes the time to read it. Patrick Jane does that – he questions things that seem out of place; he uses his senses; he looks for what people value, he empathizes.

If only we were all TV characters like the Mentalist! We might understand so much more about each other. Don’t despair, though, there’s an app for that. Cognitive psychologists have been developing wearable gadgets that can monitor emotional ups and downs by measuring things such as heart rate and electrical changes in the skin. Depending on the device, they send messages about your emotional state to you or to other people. This is not as creepy as it sounds. Worn by children with autism, they can provide valuable messages to parents and caregivers so that the adults can respond to a child’s behaviors appropriately, even if the child isn’t able to express what he or she is feeling. The devices are also useful as biofeedback tools so that you can learn to recognize and manage your own moods and emotions.

Would feedback like that help us understand each other better? If you’re wearing a wristband that sends me messages when you’re feeling low, would I eventually learn to recognize those moods without the technology? Or would I become dependent on the technology and no more sensitive than I was before?

Humans are hard-wired for empathy – somewhat. We learn it as children by watching the adults around us, and from stories we read and hear. But we need to keep practicing it. Even as adults, we can improve our emotional intelligence. Before we can truly understand others’ emotions, we have to start with ourselves – staying connected to our emotions instead of suppressing them, learning how to reduce stress and being okay with strong feelings. Then we can expand that intelligence to include others – communicating better by staying focused on the person we’re with, making eye contact, paying attention to nonverbal cues (like the Mentalist!)

Daniel Goleman says that, “A prerequisite to empathy is simply paying attention to the person in pain.” How you turn your attention to someone may not matter in the end. Staying tuned in emotionally with the people we love makes our relationships stronger, whether it comes from a gadget, a mindfulness practice, or even psychic ability.

 

A new balance

I thought I had stress management under control until I decided to move. I was maybe even a little bit smug, staying calm when others fell apart, stepping in to support my friends and family through their crises. Now I’m realizing just how easily the balance can be disturbed, life can feel chaotic and turmoil can take over.

In most stressful situations, there are both emotional coping responses and practical, problem-focused responses that will help ease the feeling of discomfort. For me, it’s easier to focus on the practical steps, so I make the to-do lists; I schedule the cleaning, the repairing and the painting; I go through the closets; I sort things to keep or get rid of.

The problem is that focusing solely on the action steps is making me more than a little anxious and kind of obsessive. I literally can’t stop thinking about what needs to be done next. I can spend half a morning organizing my Craig’s list posts and Freecycle emails. I can spend half an afternoon organizing bags of castoffs for Goodwill. Meantime, all semblance of normal life is lost.image

Larry David once quipped, “I don’t like to be out my comfort zone, which is about a half inch wide.” Getting ready to move has been forcing me to see the limits of my own comfort zone.  I keep thinking that if I can just clear the clutter out of my house, I’ll feel calmer. But really what I need to do is clear the clutter out of my mind. It’s time for some emotion-focused stress management steps.

Emotion-focused coping means using techniques that help change how I’m looking at the stressor of moving. According to Richard Blonna, one such emotion-focused method comes from Morita therapy — accepting the strong feelings that I have right now, and turning my attention instead to productive work (like writing a blog post!) Another thing I could do is examine whether any of my thinking around the move is illogical. For instance, am I setting arbitrary deadlines for myself? Am I catastrophizing any aspects (if I don’t do this today, the move won’t happen)? If that’s the case, I can try substituting more positive statements for the negative ones.

I realize also that I’m making a classic mistake of people who have too much to do. I’m sacrificing some of the very activities that could make me feel better. While I’m continuing to do yoga regularly, its benefits would last longer if I also added some meditation or breathing breaks on the days in between classes. I could also be turning to my friends more for social support — a night out is okay, even when there’s a lot to do. And, in spite of the cold, a walk in the park would be calming.

Most of all I need to be mindful of spinning my wheels. As Robert Anthony has said, “Moving fast is not the same as going somewhere.” Maybe there are days when the best preparation for moving is not to pack, clean or organize anything.

What needs changing?

No one ate many sweets at my New Year’s Day party. Yoga class was packed yesterday. Gyms are full. In other words, a normal January.

Statistics are dismal, though, when it comes to people maintaining their new exercise routines, keeping pounds off, adopting new habits. By the end of the month, most of us will be back to our old, comfortable ways.

That may be because we’re not seeing the forest for the trees. Having a view of the big picture can help us figure out which tree is going to fall today, or which aspect of health lends itself most to changing. Much as you might not want to hear it, maybe exercising more isn’t the thing that’s going to make the biggest difference for you right now.

Michelle Singletary, who writes a personal finance column for the Washington Post, gets it. She wrote a column last week about how better financial health is inextricably connected to physical health, social support and gratitude. She makes the point that health care costs can eat up retirement savings — so isn’t it a good idea to stay as healthy as possible before you reach that point? Are your relationships with family and friends weak or broken? Those are the people you might need if you fall on hard times, so Singletary says it makes sense to keep the ties strong.

In other words, all the dimensions of health — physical, social, spiritual, intellectual, emotional, occupational — help hold the structure of self together, and are equally important if we are going to reach an optimal state of well-being. So while you might want to lose a few pounds in the new year, is your physical health really the dimension where you are most in need of change?

I think of the dimensions of health like a Trivial Pursuit game piece. Each different colored piece of the pie has to be filled in before you can win the game. The same is true for overall wellness. So if you’re already strong with the piece that signifies physical wellness (even if you would like to lose that extra 5 pounds), but you’re struggling to obtain the piece for spiritual wellness, doesn’t it make more sense to focus your efforts in that area?

stick figureIn my stress management class, I sometimes use an activity from a text by Olpin and Hesson to assess balance in the different dimensions. Students get index cards and are asked to draw pictures of their bodies. The head represents the intellectual dimension; the trunk is the spiritual dimension; the arms are social and emotional, respectively; the legs are physical and occupational. If they feel balanced and healthy in a dimension, that body part is drawn so that it is in proportion to the rest of the body. If they feel that they overdo in some dimension, that body part will be outsize. And if there is an aspect of health that is lacking, the body part will look small compared to the rest.

If you do this exercise, are you wobbling from the imbalance? Is one leg shorter than the other? Is your head too big from overthinking everything? Let that be your guide to better new year’s resolutions. Sometimes making a change that no one else can immediately see is the missing piece. As Plutarch said, “What we achieve inwardly will change outer reality.”

What’s in your suitcase?

I’ve been a sporadic journal-keeper for most of my life. My most prolific period was during my angst-ridden teen years when I wrote about everything from bad luck with boyfriends, to concerts I attended, to books I was reading. Some people destroy their youthful writings, mostly because they’re so cringe-inducing. I don’t know if it’s vanity, voyeurism or something else, but I haven’t done that yet.

Recently, when I was looking for something else in my attic, I came across some of my old journals and brought them down to read. Surprisingly, the cringing was minimal. I was mostly intrigued by my younger self, as if she was from some foreign land.  And I found this poem in a collage on one journal cover:

Poets and true pathfinders have

Traveled like this: tires

Stripping pavement have been

Music to ears far finer

Than my own, but

Still I grow gladly

Into my vagabond self. I

Have died sometimes; I have left bolts and

Scraps of my life in unguarded

Corners and have smiled

In apology at my scattered,

Misstated thoughts. I am

Collected now, into one worn

Suitcase and the healing conviction

That everything left

With me is absolutely relevant.

I don’t know who wrote it, but the poem still resonates, even though I’ve been anything but a vagabond.The idea that we can boil down the true necessities of life to what would fit, metaphorically speaking, into a suitcase, rings true. The poet sounds weary, as if it took a long journey to reach that point, and maybe it does.image

Especially at this time of year, when there is such a temptation to indulge in excess holiday buying, it seems wise to remember what is really relevant and valuable in life. To love and be loved, to be safe and secure, to do or create something meaningful, to learn new things, to feel healthy in body, mind and spirit — those are the most important things in my suitcase. Do I really need anything more?

A recent article by Stacey Colino in Bethesda Magazine talked about why people in our affluent area, with money, physical health and great educations, could still be so unhappy and dissatisfied. One possible reason is the constant comparing of ourselves to others. Psychiatrist Norman Rosenthal was quoted as saying, “To compare up is to invite envy; to compare down is to invite gratitude…When we compare and find ourselves wanting, we make ourselves unhappy.”

If I pack my suitcase with the true essentials of my life, I can only feel gratitude, knowing that for many others, things like love and security are elusive. But even if I had to fill a suitcase with the material possessions that matter to me, I don’t think I would have too much trouble fitting them in. A few pictures of my kids, my wedding ring, a special book or two, and I feel rich.

When I was eighteen, I saved that poem because it was romantic to think of myself as a vagabond and because I already felt that I was leaving a little bit of myself behind with each new experience. I share it now for completely different reasons. I hope that the scraps I’ve left behind have touched someone along the way, and the scattered thoughts have gathered themselves into a more focused path forward. Have I learned to compare myself only with the younger version of me?

Intentional living

Many yoga teachers suggest setting an intention at the beginning of a practice. It helps ground you in the moment and keeps you focused on why you are there. But an intention is not the same thing as a goal. Philip Merrill wrote about the difference in Yoga Journal: “It is not oriented toward a future outcome. Instead, it is a path or practice that is focused on how you are “being” in the present moment…You set your intentions based on understanding what matters most to you and make a commitment to align your worldly actions with your inner values.”

Life has been busy and stressful for me lately. Luckily, most of the stress is the good kind: getting ready for an upcoming vacation, planning a move. But as much as I want and look forward to those events, they have upended my life a bit, and made me anxious at times. So two weeks ago I began to set intentions as I woke up each morning. Working with an intention has helped keep the stress at bay and provide clarity about what is important.

Some of my daily intentions have been:

Joy. Waking in the morning and setting a simple intention of being joyful that day has been very powerful for me. So many times our days are spent dealing with problems and mistakes, and things that go wrong. We lose the feeling of innate joy that we are born with. Setting an intention of joy helps me laugh with people, find humor in bad situations, and stay focused on the overall happiness of my life even on a bad day.

Organization. While this sounds more like a goal than an intention, my purpose was very immediate on the day I woke and this word came to mind. I think at that moment it was about having an organized mind as much as an organized life; about acting in an organized way rather than jumping from task to task, and worry to worry.

Equanimity. Like organization, the intention of equanimity is about how I react to what’s going on in my life. It’s easy when we’re under stress to overreact, to catastrophize, to overlook the solutions or silver linings. Setting an intention to foster equanimity in my life helps me recognize that while I cannot control what happens, I can control how I react to what happens. It’s my choice of reaction that will lead to either suffering or happiness.

Kindness. It seems to me that kindness is deeply connected to mindfulness. It’s hard to act kindly without being present to what is happening around me and noticing what others are experiencing. Practicing kindness and compassion gets us out of the mind and into the heart. We forget our own problems for a while to focus on someone else. It’s a win-win for all.

Setting an intention for each day helps guide my actions. The Chopra Center quotes from the Hindu Upanishads to explain the connection between intentions and actions:

“You are what your deepest desire is.
As your desire is, so is your intention. 
As your intention is, so is your will.
As your will is, so is your deed.
As your deed is, so is your destiny.”IMG_0648

When we set intentions, we direct our will in such a way that all our actions take the course we have chosen. If my intention is kindness, and I choose to act kindly, then I have set myself on that path for the day. It becomes my destiny.

Winston Churchill said that, “It is a mistake to look too far ahead. Only one link of the chain of destiny can be handled at a time.” In that sense, setting a new intention each day keeps us present-focused, touching just the one link that will lead to the next.

Prepare yourself

The government is closed for business, and the impact has quickly become personal for a lot of people. No pay, no parks, no museums, no monuments. It’s at moments like this that my Girl Scout training comes to mind: Be prepared.

There is perhaps nothing as stressful as having our best-laid plans turned upside down by events that are out of our control. This week it’s the couple whose wedding can’t take place at the Jefferson Memorial as planned, and the tourists who scheduled a big week in Washington only to find the museums and monuments closed, and the government workers who were hoping to pay bills and save for Christmas and will now lose pay for every day they don’t work.image

But even when we don’t experience something as dramatic as a government shutdown, life throws us curve balls. Storms cancel our flights and take out our power; illness and injuries keep us from work and activities; friends let us down. Some say that managing stress is about managing expectations, as if by lowering our expectations and anticipating less, we won’t be disappointed. But being prepared doesn’t mean we should have to look forward to less; it means we need a plan B.

Having a plan B might mean building redundancy into systems, or bringing two power cords for your phone, or making backup dinner reservations, or applying to a safety school for college. Before we can solve a problem with a backup plan, however, we often need to change the story we’re telling about the situation. Herbert Benson and Eileen Stuart (in The Wellness Book) refer to this story as the “emotional hook”. The emotional hook consists of all your judgments, feelings and self-talk about the event – the shoulds, nevers, musts, oughts, and alwayses. “The government shouldn’t shut down. Why does this always happen to me? I’ll never be able to do this again.”

In order to effectively solve the problem and come up with a solution (the plan B), we need to get past the emotional hooks that are trapping us in the story. Taking some time to calm yourself, breathe and reflect puts you in a better place to counter the negative self-talk with positive statements and then choose how to respond. After that, you can look for possible solutions. For instance, The Washington Post is helping out this week by listing alternative destinations for all the major attractions that are closed, but if you haven’t gotten past the hooks, you might not see that help is there.

The more someone practices calming techniques and positive self-talk, the more it becomes second nature in times of stress. That takes us back to the Girl Scouts (of course). On the Girl Scouts web site, they explain their motto by quoting from the 1947 handbook: “A Girl Scout is ready to help out wherever she is needed. Willingness to serve is not enough; you must know how to do the job well, even in an emergency.

What-can-a-Girl-Scout-do-when-Disaster1In other words, being prepared isn’t just about equipment and supplies, or even intention; it’s about preparing yourself – being ready and able to deal with what life throws at you, both practically and emotionally. You can prepare yourself for those emotional hooks by checking your story on a regular basis. What’s bothering you today? What’s hard for you? Once you’ve answered that, think about what you’re telling yourself about it. Is there anger in your story? Self-pity? Sadness? If so, maybe it’s time for a re-write. Can you turn the story into something more positive by changing the words you are using about it?

Yeats said that “Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.” We always hope that the worst never happens, but a Girl Scout would say be prepared anyway.

Step away from the edge

When did we become such an extremist culture? If the word extremist sounds, well, extreme, consider the word moderate and you’ll know what I mean. No one wants to be moderate anymore, or to do anything in moderation. As a culture, we seek out the biggest, the newest, the richest, the edgiest, the most dangerous experience or position we can find.

On reality TV, we see people competing to lose the most weight or be the best chef. Marketers tell us we’ll be left behind if we don’t have the newest phone, and we line up to buy it. College students accept binge drinking as the norm, putting their health, safety and studies in danger. Congressmen put the nation at risk to score points and avoid compromise at all costs. And in our daily lives, our fear of not having every bit of the latest information makes us obsessively check texts and email.

Isn’t the competition exhausting, though? We often talk about managing our time, but not so much about managing our energy. In fact, our energy is a finite commodity too, and we would do well to think about how we want to use it. It’s very stressful be constantly competing, or fighting, or worrying about the meaning of a text message, or subjecting our bodies to excessive amounts of food, drink or even exercise.

Most of us are naturally somewhat competitive, and of course it’s nice to be the best at something, or to set goals for ourselves. But I’m reminded of the saying, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” In some areas of our lives, maybe we’d be happier to not have the best or be the best. Bruno Bettelheim’s famous book, A Good Enough Parent, espoused this philosophy. Instead of striving to be the perfect parent of the perfect child, he advised that parents should be more attuned emotionally to their children so they could understand their relational needs. Instead of trying to mold a child into the one we want, help the child develop into the person he or she wants to be.

A focus on emotional awareness can serve us too, as we try to manage our energy. What do you need for yourself, in body, mind and spirit? Is it the newest phone or the most principled stance on an issue? Or are those things that you could let go? Do you need to lose more weight than your co-worker, or would losing a smaller amount be sufficient for you?

A recent study conducted at the University of Copenhagen showed that moderate exercise was actually more motivating than hard training was. The people who did 30 minutes a day of moderate exercise lost more weight than those who did 60 minutes of hard fitness training. The moderate group said they had more energy and were more motivated to make other healthy lifestyle changes, but those in the vigorous group were exhausted after their workout and less open to altering other habits. They had drained the energy they had for changing.

“Moderate” doesn’t have to mean boring or mediocre. It could just mean that you are using your energy within reasonable limits, for you, at this moment. At some other time, or in some other space, the choice might be different. How can you feel your best right now? Not the best of something or the best at something, but just the best and most content you?

Benjamin Disraeli once said that, “The choicest pleasures of life lie within the ring of moderation.” They’re not always at the edge.

Time flies, but it’s a lovely ride

Every time I have to wash and dry my hair, I think, “This again, already?” Each week when we put out the trash, I ask, “How can it be Friday again, so soon?” Paying the phone bill always makes me think, “How can a month have passed so quickly?” And whenever I celebrate a birthday, I wonder, “Where did the year go?”

Mundane tasks and rituals can be comforting because they provide order to our days and a sense that some things do not change, but they can also be disturbing because they remind us that life seems to be inexorably speeding past, with nothing to slow it down. The fear that time is slipping away, combined with the tediousness of some of our days is enough to bring anyone down.

But, as James Taylor reminds us:

“The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time

Any fool can do it

There ain’t nothing to it….

It’s just a lovely ride.”

Maybe the secret to enjoying the passage of time is to bring more mindfulness to the chores and more awareness to the celebrations. Can I up my level of engagement? Paying closer attention might imbue activities with more of the pleasure that James Taylor sings about so beautifully.

For instance, my first act upon waking is to start making coffee. But I usually do it by rote, not stopping to appreciate the smell of the coffee or the clarity of the water going into the pot. Though my attention snaps back when I take my first sip, my challenge is to bring awareness to the entire process. “I have measured out my life with coffee spoons,” wrote T.S. Eliot. If this is literally true of my life, shouldn’t I at least smell the coffee?

Jon Kabat-Zinn says that, “If we are to grasp the reality of our life while we have it, we will need to wake up to our moments. Otherwise, whole days, even a whole life, could slip past unnoticed.” In his book, Wherever You Go, There You Are, he has a wonderful entry called “Cleaning the stove while listening to Bobby McFerrin,” about using the process of cleaning the stove as a mindfulness practice, and the accompanying music as a way to engage the whole body in the task. It is a good lesson for me to remember when I reluctantly approach the job of drying my hair – can I engage both my mind and body while doing it, can I be more fully aware of the transition from wet to dry?

So maybe you’re saying “Sure, I zone out when I’m doing boring jobs, but I always pay attention when it’s something important like lunch with my mom, or playing a game with my kids.” Really? Kabat-Zinn suggests that one way to wake up “is to look at other people and ask yourself if you are really seeing them or just your thoughts about them. Sometimes our thoughts act like dream glasses…Without knowing it, we are coloring everything, putting our spin on it all.” Am I fully IMG2present at the birthday party, soaking it in with all my senses, or just going through the motions of enjoyment while planning the story I will tell about it later?

As I write this, it strikes me that everyday mindfulness can’t help but be connected to a sense of gratitude. How can I smell the coffee beans or acknowledge the clean water that goes into making the coffee without being grateful that I have both those things available to me? How can I pay my bills every month without gratitude that I have the money to pay them? How can I observe my birthday, and those of others, without giving thanks that we’re all here together to celebrate? Yes, time flies, but the ride is lovely even when it’s fast.

 

Rising above

Have you ever laughed when someone fell down? Have you ever resented someone who has success that you want for yourself? Is it hard to feel joy for someone to whom you compare yourself? One of the premises of a new book by Richard H. Smith, The Joy of Pain, is that these feelings are part of what makes us human. Often referred to as schadenfreude – a German term meaning both harm and joy – the emotion we experience in that situation allows us to feel better about ourselves.

One of my husband’s favorite movie quotes is from a scene in “The African Queen,” starring Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart. Bogart plays Charlie, a hard-living, cynical riverboat captain, and Hepburn’s character is Rose, a prim and proper missionary. At one point during their many arguments, Rose says to Charlie, “Human nature is what God put us on earth to rise above.

When my kids were little, I told them countless times that it was wrong to “laugh at the misfortunes of others.” Even at a young age, we compare ourselves to other people, and maybe the laughter comes from nervous relief that the embarrassment happened to someone else. But even if it is human nature to take pleasure in someone else’s downfall, I don’t think it comes without another distinctly human emotion: shame.

In the novel, Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, the main character says, “I know something of shame…How can we not all feel it? We are all small-minded people, creeping about the earth grubbing for our own advantage and making the very mistakes for which we want to humiliate our neighbors.” At some point, the experience of schadenfreude has to make us feel hypocritical, knowing that we are playing a mental game of one-upmanship. The neighbor or co-worker’s failure somehow makes us more likely to succeed, or at least to feel superior, no matter how temporary that might be, or how undeserved.

Is human nature something we can rise above? Even Smith admits that humans are also wired for compassion. And practicing compassion can probably help us downplay those feelings of glee when something bad happens to someone we don’t like or with whom we compete. What is infinitely harder, I think, is actually being able to feel glad when something good happens for the person we don’t like. How can I summon genuine feelings of happiness for the kid who was mean to my child, or for the person who made a cutting remark to me, or for the politician who betrayed the public’s trust?

Among the Buddhist meditation practices known as brahmaviharas is one called mudita. Mudita is essentially a practice of sympathetic joy. It helps to counter feelings of jealousy and envy, and increases one’s capacity to feel joy and happiness for others’ good fortune. Practicing mudita calls for bringing to mind various people, and then mentally wishing them continued happiness. Since this feeling needs to be actively cultivated in most people, it helps to start the practice of mudita by calling to mind your own goodness and happiness, followed by people you love, and finally, the people who are difficult for you.OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The Yoga Journal web site has a very thorough article that explains mudita and how to practice it. The concluding wishes go like this:

“May your happiness and joy increase. May the joy in your life continue and grow. May you be successful and met with appreciation.”

Mudita asks that we stop thinking of life as a zero-sum game, and recognize that our own happiness increases when others are happy too, even our enemies. That’s how the human spirit rises above the human nature.

Expanding my circle of comfort

“Change is gonna do me good,” goes the lyric of Elton John’s song “Honky Cat”. I’m one of those people who has to say things like that to myself, to force myself to stretch a little. No matter how much there is to gain outside what’s familiar and comfortable, most of us have to be convinced and cajoled, or forced by circumstance, out of our comfort zones.

 Because I’m traveling this week, I tried a yoga class at an out-of-town yoga studio yesterday. It was a good class, and I’m glad I went, but there was still the point in class when the teacher told me to do something in a way completely opposite to what I’ve been taught.Was her way right or wrong? Is there a right way? Does it matter? Those were the questions I asked myself as I mentally resisted what she was telling me. My comfort zone was definitely being challenged.
Six months ago, my two favorite yoga teachers shut down their studio and stopped teaching. The studio, my yoga “home”, was gone, forcing me to change whether I wanted to or not. It hasn’t been easy. Sometimes I can take a class  with one of the teachers I liked from the old place, but mostly I was forced to try new teachers. Some I’ve enjoyed and some I haven’t. But I have learned to appreciate at least a few things about each of them. I realize now that in leaving, my former teachers gave me a great gift —a lesson in practicing yoga off the mat. Staying focused. Breathing through change and uncertainty. Accepting what I cannot change. Expanding my circle of comfort.
Often when I see friends from the old yoga studio, we talk about which teachers we are practicing with now, but we always finish by saying, “It’s not the same as…” And it’s not, it can never be, the “same”. Nothing stays the same, everything changes.  And luckily, we humans have an amazing ability to adapt to new conditions; the question is do you adapt with resistance, or adapt with acceptance? How much energy do you expend denying and complaining before you acknowledge the new reality?
Like the mice in the fable, Who Moved my Cheese?, we can either respond to unwelcome change by spending our time looking for someone to blame, hoping that everything is going to go back to “normal,” or we can go look for new opportunities. Relatively small changes, like finding new yoga teachers, train us for the bigger life events. If you learn to keep your balance in the shifting sands of everyday life, it’s easier to embrace the idea that  “change is gonna do you good.”