Permission to Feel - Marc Brackett, Ph.D. (Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence)

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Brene Brown - Unlocking Us Podcast

Strategies when you are feeling overwhelmed / out of control (emotion regulation):

1. Mindful breathing
2. Forward-looking strategies
3. Attention-shifting strategies
4. Cognitive-reframing strategies
5. Meta-moment

Mindful breathing: "helps us calm the body and mind so we can be fully present and less reactive or overwhelmed by what's happening around us"

Forward-looking strategies: "anticipate something [that] will cause an unwanted emotion and either steer clear of it or modify our physical environment"

Attention-shifting strategies: "we can temper the impact of emotions by diverting our attention away from its source... turning on the TV, walking away from a stressful encounter, or repeating a positive phrase to ourselves."

Cognitive-reframing strategies: "analyze whatever's triggering an emotional experience and then find a new way of seeing it--essentially, transforming our perception of reality as a way of mastering it."

Meta-moment: "a tool that helps us act as our best selves would, as opposed to reacting (and overreacting) to emotional situations."

Judith's question: "What if I were 5% better than I am?"

Me: The poster about "dealing with a problem" on our door

Me: Brene Brown podcast on space between stimulus and response (quote attributed to Viktor Frankl)

"In the chemo room, I wear mittens made of ice so I don’t lose my fingernails. But I took a risk today to write this down." (poem) - Andrea Gibson

Whenever I spend the day crying,
my friends tell me I look high. Good grief,

they finally understand me.
Even when the arena is empty, I thank god

for the shots I miss. If you ever catch me
only thanking god for the shots I make,

remind me - I’m not thanking god. Remind me
all my prayers were answered

the moment I started praying
for what I already have.

Jenny says when people ask if she’s out of the woods,
she tells them she’ll never be out of the woods,

says there is something lovely about the woods.
I know how to build a survival shelter

from fallen tree branches, packed mud,
and pulled moss. I could survive forever

on death alone. Wasn’t it death that taught me
to stop measuring my lifespan by length,

but by width? Do you know how many beautiful things
can be seen in a single second? How you can blow up

a second like a balloon and fit infinity inside of it?
I’m infinite, I know, but I still have a measly wrinkle

collection compared to my end goal. I would love
to be a before picture, I think, as I look in the mirror

and mistake my head for the moon. My dark
thoughts are almost always 238,856 miles away

from me believing them. I love this life,
I whisper into my doctor’s stethoscope

so she can hear my heart. My heart, an heirloom
I didn’t inherit until I thought I could die.

Why did I go so long believing I owed the world
my disappointment? Why did I want to take

the world by storm when I could have taken it
by sunshine, by rosewater, by the cactus flowers

on the side of the road where I broke down?
I’m not about to waste more time

spinning stories about how much time
I’m owed, but there is a man

who is usually here, who isn’t today.
I don’t know if he’s still alive. I just know

his wife was made of so much hope
she looked like a firework above his chair.

Will the afterlife be harder if I remember
the people I love, or forget them?

Either way, please let me remember.

Andrea Gibson

Learning from Trees (poem) - Grace Butcher

If we could,
like the trees,
practice dying,
do it every year
just as something we do—
like going on vacation
or celebrating birthdays,
it would become
as easy a part of us
as our hair or clothing.

Someone would show us how
to lie down and fade away
as if in deepest meditation,
and we would learn
about the fine dark emptiness,
both knowing it and not knowing it,
and coming back would be irrelevant.

Whatever it is the trees know
when they stand undone,
surprisingly intricate,
we need to know also
so we can allow
that last thing
to happen to us
as if it were only
any ordinary thing,

leaves and lives
falling away,
the spirit, complex,
waiting in the fine darkness
to learn which way
it will go.

Reincarnation

 Today's sermon is about reincarnation, and it's got me thinking about the limits of redefining oneself, starting a new chapter, and how much you pull your old habits of thinking with you. Nature / nurture / karma. 

The older I get, the more I think about change.

Grumpiness

Trying to have patience with my grumpy set point. I have so much to be grateful for, so I bristle at myself when I start the day - pretty much every day - feeling the bah humbug of it all.

My family knows to tread softly around me before the first coffee. My exuberant morning husband knows to warn of coming in hot. 

This summer has been the first time in years that I've been able to wake, get ready, and head to work without taking a kid somewhere first. There are many days there are no words until after 8 am! So great!

I thought maybe I'd age out. Get to be one of those retirees that tweets with the birds in the morning, singing as the coffee drips.  

Flying dream

 I've been lucky to have flying dreams on regular rotation. 

Most are joyful - flying solves a problem or feels miraculous and so right.

Last night, flying was a short-cut to my car after cutting class in high school (something I never did, but Umea does all the time, I've discovered). But the wind currents were strong and pushed me out over the ocean, which was right there between New Mexico and Colorado. But I rowed (in the air, more like rowing than flapping wings) successfully over land and down over a Colorado river town, the river bed, actually, where a river rafting group (young, vigorous, blond!) was packing it up. And got a ride. And stressed out about calling my mom to pick me up. Trying to find a map to figure out how far home was from where I'd landed. Too far to bus?

And so, flying was fate - a simple choice leading to a whole lotta adventure.  And although it was stressful, it was also great. What I thought my day was, it wasn't. What I thought the radius of my life was, it wasn't. Life can be travel. And figuring out how to get from here to there, or there to here. And I did. And Colorado was beautiful in my dream. And the ocean was gorgeous. And terrifying. But gorgeous. 

And I love that I dreamed all that. Go brain!

(I suspect the shape of the dream was heavily shaped by reading Demon Copperhead for the past week. Good lord, what a book.)

Prayer - the Rev. Gretchen Haley

Hard to let love in, to do its work on you, healing backward and forward

It’s ok to go slow in your letting go
In letting your arms fall to your sides
In finding your sigh, and then your shout of joy and praise, wonder and awe

The world teaches us to defend and protect
Hide and get by, rush and push through -
It is ok to take your time In trusting there is no hidden agenda
Except the learning to love And to be loved

It is not easy, we know - to let love in
To let love do its work upon your heart
Healing backwards and forwards
Softening cynicism, releasing judgment
Finding forgiveness, and believing not all is lost -
Finding that you have always been worthy of love just as you are
That we all are worthy of love
Just as we are:
Queer and complicated; messy and miraculous
Creatively gendered;
caring, and kind of confused

It’s ok to go slow - just don’t stop
Keep moving towards this light that wants only to love every part of you
This light that is longing to call your scars sacred, and your hope holy

Ready to brave this world in all of its brokenness
Armed only with truth,
and the power of a community held in promise

The vision of a world unafraid to change, to keep changing
To hold, and to be held across every wave and rush of wind.

What to be grateful for

Tennis and that feeling of play. Joy in what my body can do.

Yoga and that feeling of grounding and reaching that glories in the biggest space my spirit can embody.

Parenting and the joy that these whole-ass PEOPLE can bring as they grow into themselves and the world.

Working and the feeling of putting my skills to service of a team and my community. 

Church and the joy of a community of people who believe that searching for meaning, and living into the meaning you find, is a worthwhile endeavor.

Living, which sometimes feels like aging, but at its best, feels like deepening and unfurling the fractal flag of self into the endless sky.

Friends and the continuity of knowing and being known, laughing and living out loud, and playing. Celebrating the endless stream of life events and holidays. 

Family and good conversations every so often. 

(Secret gratitude: meditating, smoking, and drinking coffee, which, dear god, is about the best thing in the whole world.)

Sonnets to Orpheus, Part 2, XIV (poem) by Rilke, Translated by Anita Barrow and Joanna Macy

See the flowers, so faithful to Earth.

We know their fate because we share it.
Were they to grieve for their wilting,
that grief would be ours to feel.

There's a lightness in things. Only we move forever burdened,
pressing ourselves into everything, obsessed by weight.
How strange and devouring our ways must seem
to those for whom life is enough.

If you could enter their dreaming and dream with them deeply,
you would come back different to a different day,
moving so easily from that common depth.

Or maybe just stay there: they would bloom and welcome you,
all those brothers and sisters tossing in the meadows,
and you would be one of them.

Ritual of Mindfulness

 The sermon today was about how to take the everyday and turn it into a moment of meaning, when the moment IS the meaning.

V.B. Price, in Running to Wijiji, says the sacred and the profane are sacred. And maybe also: "when you know who you are, you do who you are. 

"knowing and doing [are] not apart;
and where I [am]
[is] as much of myself
as what I [do].

Now is
a holy place."

In this moment, I am feeling like the echo between who I am and what I do is split-second delay. Not too shabby, all told. I am not in sync, but nor am I syncopated. 

There is hope. There is meaning. There is time and patience and the next moment and every intention.  

Gregory Alan Isakov Concert - Santa Fe - June 16, 2023

The whole fam went to see Gregory Alan Isakov at the Bridge in Santa Fe. We saw Martin and Julie Heinrich and our neighbors!

1. San Luis
2. Berth
3. Before the Sun
4. The Fall
5. Southern Star
6. Dark, Dark, Dark
7. Amsterdam
8. Master & a Hound
9. This Empty Northern Hemisphere
10. Chemicals
11. Liars (Ron Scott cover)
12. She Always Takes It Black
13. Virginia May
14. Second Chances
15. Big Black Car
16. The Stable Song
17. Appaloosa Bones
18. Caves

Encore:

Dandelion Wine
All Shades of Blue

My notes (because I don't always know the names of the songs!):

1. San Luis
2. Quit all the looking back
3. 55 miles... shines like the 4th of july... city bus kickin up dust, before the sun comes up, devil sees us now, sleeping in our winter clothes. Going on my own. BEFORE THE SUN.
4. The fall, the fall, the fall (new). Blood was thick, brothers, sisters... all our eyes on you. On you. We all break a little. THE FALL
5. Oh my drunken southern star... now you are dangerously close. Come out from your hiding out. SOUTHERN STAR
6. ... Blanket inside... all turn red. Howl at the half moon... she's all smoke, she's all nicotine...won't you sing me something for the dark... DARK DARK DARK
7. AMSTERDAM
8. ...He's shaking it up once for me... snow blowing round your head... MASTER AND HOUND
9. ... Whiskey mouths...cottonwoods were all worn out. While you were sleeping i was flipping the dials. ... northern hemisphere...THIS NORTHERN HEMISPHERE
10. Coffee burns, stomach turns... saw her bathing in the creek. Now you're jealous of the water... is it just chemical? ... gravity is gone. CHEMICALS
11. You take the big one, and I'l take his brother. Let's get this ovee with... now we're just liars...LIARS
12. Turn on that golden rain. ... talking to the queen. ... yearning for the past. But i'll never say I love you dear, just to take it back. SHE ALWAYS TAKES IT BLACK
13. Wrote on one of first tours... U Dub. 50 a night. Kelly jo phelps. VIRGINIA MAY
14. All of of my heroes sit up straight... SECOND CHANCES.
15. You were the magazine, i was the plain Jane. BIG BLACK CAR.
16. Played with Lumineers last summer. Big hockey arenas. Terrifying. "Play all your hits, man." "We don't have any." Play this at the grocery store near my house sometimes. STABLE SONG.
17. New song. This is a voice I've known. Avenues and bones... like you say all the tome. Lost its mind... nesting birds... tvs on. From every window, evening's fall is hitting ground. ... glad you found me when you did. APPALOOSA BONED
18. ... there's something I forgot..  used to love caves... remember that bright Halloween night.... put out the smoke. Let's put all these words away....CAVES
19. Encore... scrub oak to timber... heart's worn handle of an old pushing broom... I've been thinking you probably should stay. SHADES OF BLUE. 

Gregory Alan Isakov concert - March 9, 2024

Umea and I went to this concert at the Kiva Auditorium, and it was magical. I ugly cried at just how beautiful the music was.

1. Setlist:
2. Before the Sun
3. Southern Star
4. Dark, Dark, Dark
5. San Luis
6. The Fall
7. This Empty Northern Hemisphere
8. Miles to Go
9. Big Black Car
10. Berth
11. Play Video
12. \3 A.M
If I Go, I'm Goin
Amsterdam
Chemicals
Liars
13. (Ron Scott cover)
    Play Video
Watchman
The Stable Song
Second Chances
Silver Bell

Channeling Finnish Happiness

 Newsweek Article - March 19, 2024

[Paraphrased]

1. Get out in nature.

2. Keep a determination mindset. We can do hard things. Resilience makes us stronger. 

sisu="determination, courage, and willpower. It can also be used to define the ability to push through adversity and reach your limits."

3. Trust people at work to do their job "in a way that suits them best." Stay open to flexible work practices.

"Managers are encouraged to think how they can serve their team members to deliver their best. As a result, I and others are less preoccupied with what other people are doing.

Instead, it's a culture where I can focus on how I can do my job to the best of my ability."

4. Respect work/life balance.

Working late is fine, but recognize it comes with a trade-off. Take those vacations and re-knit family bonds!

5. Competition shouldn't be your main motivation.

"One can be ambitious and humble at the same time and feel content in life."

 

Middle Management in America

What a tough day. I manage a Division of about 30 people in 4 teams. One of our younger team members -- a really good and smart person -- let me know he's taken another job. Another of our newer team members let me know he'd like to change teams because he feels the relationship with his manager has suffered irreparable harm. Another senior team member called to share his frustration with another dynamic that's been troubling in the past year and has flared up again. A person from a different department met with me to say that the way we've set up a certain requirement that obligates his team to work with outside groups has led to them being abused and seen as the "hand of injustice" (take that, Adam Smith!). 

I took lunch to one of our team leaders, who was losing her young team member, to check in and make sure she wasn't taking it too hard. She was. We talked about it and around it and scratched our heads, shook our fists, said lots of things that boiled down to "these pesky kids! what do they want these days? all these unreasonable expectations for expertise within months, promotions in a couple years, and absolutely no boredom or discomfort or challenge, all while knowing exactly what they're supposed to be doing and getting thanked and petted all the f#^$&%*ng time."

And then I had coffee with my college mentor, who gave me the tough love and broke the hard news that none of this is new, none of it is solvable, and yeah, middle management is the worst. 

And as I was driving home, another colleague let me know she just gave her 2 week notice, leaving me with one more broken link to a department that I desperately need in order to succeed at my job. 

What a day. 

I tried medicating with songs of loss and angst but had no patience with wallowing. Instead, I pulled up my meditation app and leaped at the title "Letting go of unwanted feelings." Listened to it twice. Tried to release my fear and heaviness to the powers of renewal and healing that we call by many names. After all, much of this is not mine to fix. My little control freak self would love to take it all on, even as it seems insurmountable and intractable. 

What I want for the world is for people to get better at 2 things:

1. Setting boundaries, keeping them, telling others when they cross one, and requesting that someone do better to respect them going forward.
2. Hear feedback, take it in, apologize, repair, and do better going forward. 

As a young person, the world seemed very black and white, and it seemed possible and even necessary in order to be a good person to never hurt anyone, that you could do better and better until you never made any mistakes, or at least none that affected other people. 

Now, I think growth is almost entirely related to learning curves associated with failures big and small. I've heard this called your "growing edge." That resonates with me. 

Brene Brown says, "Clear is kind." And others say nice is often not kind. I say, "Feedback is kind." And taking in feedback is both kind and wise and all-too-rare these days. After all, we are very aware that people are not perfect, but we seemed outraged when anyone bothers us in any way. Why didn't they know better not to do that? And why do we have to tell them? Shouldn't they already know? How could they not know?

My son, 11, and on the autism spectrum, has learned that it is an unreasonable expectation to think that other people know what's in his mind if he doesn't say it out loud. 

My daughter, 14, and one of the most emotional intelligent people I've encountered, is learning that she cannot expect anyone to stand up for her, that she must stand up for herself like she does for her friends without blinking an eye. 

I am hopeful that I am raising people who will be able to manage conflict at work, and at home. 

In the meantime, I am looking around at the ashes from multiple fires today and wondering - what is my role in all of this? How does this get better? What can I do, and if there's nothing, what will I do?

The leverage from the middle feels laughable. 

Jet (poem) by Tony Hoagland

and it is good, a way of letting life
out of the box, uncapping the bottle
to let the effervescence gush
through the narrow, usually constricted neck.

Everything is Going to be All Right (Poem) by Derek Mahon

Derek Mahon, from Selected Poems

How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.

Day Off

 Presidents' Day weekend. House is clean. Tennis lesson done. Travel planned for this summer's half-marathon in the Grand Tetons. A run, then yoga today. 

So tomorrow can be an honest to goodness day off. Yoga in the morning, pickle ball, drop-in tennis in the evening. And maybe some puzzle. Maybe some shopping. Maybe a church task or two. 

The feeling of well-being is overwhelming. So few shoulds that it's a miracle. I am so grateful. So full of gratitude!

"In the Moment" (poem) by Lynn Ungar

You've probably heard
the central rule of improv:
Say yes... and.
Yes, we are on a desert island...
and I am a shark.
Yes, we are playing in the World Series...
and I will use this hot dog as a bat.
It's an excellent way to talk with those
who have wandered into dementia:
Yes, OK, I'm your mother.
Can I sing you a lullaby?

Improv is the core of jazz.
Bach may have set music's
rules of the road, but he
was one crazy improvisational driver.
Look, I get this isn't
the plot you chose, and everything
has gone off script.
Isn't that just the way of it?
Play the scene you're in.
Shift the plot. Tell me
where we can go together.

What you can control...

 I'm feeling buoyed by the positive changes that I've been able to imagine, set intentions to accomplish, set steps to put in place, and keep choosing and following through again and again.

And if that can happen in some areas of my life, suddenly I assume that's true of all aspects. 

So it is somewhat startling and deeply frustrating the ways that I cannot gain traction in changes that are important and potentially life-improving. 

I am happily going to yoga almost every day, yet I cannot seem to manage to go running once a week. 

I have given up cream and sugar in my morning coffee, but I cannot not eat 3-5 desserts per night. 

I use my meditation app every morning, but I still find myself a stress case in most other circumstances throughout the day. 

I sing to my kiddo every night before bed, but I keep choosing Youtube videos before bed instead of my library books on kindle (tick tock...). 

Probably dwelling more on the wins and less on the disappointments would bring more happiness and more successful change. 

As a human, I'm primed to focus on the negative and the "problems" to be solved. As a spiritual being,  I practice gratitude and celebration. Begin again, begin again... 

"The Next Noel" (poem) by Lynn Ungar

I don’t know what a noel is,
Except that it’s something
That angels say, and the first time
They said it, was to shepherds
Who were out laying in fields.
But the next noel, couldn’t it
Have been to anyone –
The barkeep handing drinks
Or the woman easing off her shoes
As she comes in the door?
Behold! The angel says, as in
Pay attention! Look what is happening!
And then, I bring you tidings
Of great joy. I don’t know
Who got the second noel.
Maybe the wise men. Maybe not.
But if there was a first noel,
They might have just kept coming –
Angels popping up where you least
Expect them, demanding that you take notice,
Insisting, through every battered age,
That you listen to tidings of great joy.