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Tag Archives: growth
Remember the day this child was born.
An offering to
parents, copied with permission from Linda Dixon. May we
all “remember the day this child was born”, and celebrate their
being.
As a mother, who has had
the experience of receiving a phone call from a woman, asking for
my daughter’s hand in marriage, I feel qualified to speak on the
issue of marriage equality. Is this not the very thing which
strikes terror into the hearts of parents who have tried to raise
their children right? Isn’t it our reward, to be mother of the
bride, as a lovely daughter glides down the aisle toward the man of
my/her dreams?
As
a gay marriage survivor, I feel it is my duty to help others
negotiate the harrowing ordeal. Therefore, I have taken the liberty
to write a small handbook on the subject. There is much
more I could say, but here are the ten essential
steps.
1. First,
allow yourself to remember the day this child was born. Recall the
wonder of gazing into the eyes of a tiny, precious new life and
feel the sense of awe at the depth of love you experienced.
Remember your vow to nurture this tiny person, who came
from you but is not a replica of
you.
2.
Immerse yourself in the memory of learning who this child is and
noting how that unique personality was there from the beginning,
just waiting to be discovered. Wrap yourself up in that
blanket of parental protection – the one you used to swaddle your
child’s sense of self and protect her from those who would try to
squelch her
dreams.
3. Reaffirm
to yourself and anyone who will listen, that this is still your
primary responsibility as a
parent.
4. Listen to
your adult son or daughter. Ask what they love about
their beloved and look to see if they are truly
happy.
5. Observe
how they are treated by their partner or fiancé. Ask
yourself if you would approve of this person, had she been born of
the opposite gender? If the answer is
yes…
6. Celebrate!
Treat your future daughter/son-in-law as you would like
to be
treated.
7.
Remember that all you ever wanted was for this person to be happy
and to feel loved and cherished. Know that your fondest
wish has been fulfilled. Thank
God!
8. If you are
unable to share in your daughter/son’s joy, take responsibility for
the problem. Review your life and try to figure out where
you went wrong. Get help if you cannot resolve this on
your own.
9. Forgive
yourself. Rejection of your own child is a very serious,
but treatable illness. If you find yourself in this
predicament, make it your goal to heal yourself before the wedding.
Repeat steps 1-5 as many times as it
takes.
10. Go to the
wedding and toast the happy couple with love and sincerity.
Welcome your child’s husband/wife into your family and
live happily ever
after.
Thanks Linda, for
giving voice to a parent’s heart and a child’s
happiness.
When you’re different…
“When you’re different, sometimes you don’t see the millions of people who accept you for what you are. All you notice is the person who doesn’t.” ~ Jodi Picoult, Change of Heart
What the gardener sows
“More grows in the garden than the gardener sows.”…Old Spanish Proverb
Run, laugh, and lollygag…
I grew up in a moderately large city. I learned to allow for travel time when going from one side of the city to the other. I have now lived nearly half my life in a small town. All these years of small town life and I’m still tripping over the false belief that you can get from any point to another in a matter of minutes. This misconception means I sometimes feel a “beat the clock” anxiety in the car on the way to my destination.
On this particular morning I left my house, driving purposefully, hoping to arrive on time. I entered the school zone, slowing to 25 mph. I proceeded slowly, up the hill, toward the school crossing. I hoped to escape the zone with no unnecessary delays and continue on my way. I saw the crossing guard boldly step into the street. Taking ownership with her red octagon held high, she stopped us in our tracks. It took a second to see the two small children approaching the crossing. Maybe second and third grade. A girl and a boy, perhaps big sister, little brother.
The crossing guard smiled as the girl dutifully, and quickly, crossed the street. “Good job!”, I thought as we waited for the little boy to complete the crossing task. The little boy was taking his own sweet time. My frustration rose. Then my best self started the conversation. “Of course you wouldn’t want to wait for a child.” “Children are to be dismissed, rushed past, redirected.” They run when we try to hold them back. Embarrass us with their over the top exuberance. They lollygag when time is of the essence. What are we to do? Maybe follow their lead.
~~~~~~~~~~~
On Friday morning, January 12, 2007, Joshua Bell took his violin in hand. Leaning against the wall, near a trash can, he played six of the most exquisite classical musical compositions. His violin case lay open at his feet for any charitable gift from a willing listener. Mr. Bell was playing where many other street musicians had played. He was at the L’Enfant Station Plaza of the Washington, D.C. Metro subway.
Something distinguished Joshua bell from other street musicians. Mr. Bell was a world renowned violinist, playing on his rare Stradivarius, as part of an experiment suggested by the Washington Post. The question? “What would happen if one of the world’s great violinists had performed incognito before a traveling rush-hour audience of 1,000-odd people?”
For nearly 45 minutes, Mr. Bell played, and a video camera recorded the event. This musical prodigy played, largely ignored, as 1097 people walked by on their way to somewhere else. The Washington Post writer summed up the “audience” with these words.
“There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding. Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three groups. But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away.” (Pearls Before Breakfast, Gene Weingarten, Washington Post Staff Writer)
The first child that was drawn to the sound of Joseph Bell’s violin was a three year old named Evan. When his mother found out what she had pulled him away from, she laughed and said “Evan is very smart.” Little wonder that the outcome of the test led the writer to note,
“The poet Billy Collins once laughingly observed that all babies are born with a knowledge of poetry, because the lub-dub of the mother’s heart is in iambic meter. Then, Collins said, life slowly starts to choke the poetry out of us. It may be true with music, too.”
I dare you to let a little child lead you back to life.
Consider adding these childlike moments to your day.
Run for no good reason.
Embrace over-the-top exuberance.
Lollygag when you feel the
stress of your day mounting.
Then, find a child and say,
“Thank you!“
Read Gene Weingarten’s entire Washington Post article, Pearls Before Breakfast. It’s a beautifully written, insightful commentary. The video of Joshua Bell’s performance is embedded in the article.
Gifts re-gifted, or paying it forward…
I would like to thank Jen of step on a crack…or break your mother’s back… for nominating GrowthLines for the 7 X 7 Link Award. Thank you, Jen for setting a worthy standard that proves writing can contain both clarity and beauty. That in a single sentence, writing can guide our steps and document our journey. You remind us that we can write with both honesty and integrity.
I created the GrowthLines blog for many of the same reasons I became a therapist. I wanted to observe and understand the world. To think about what it means to be a self, an individual. And at the same time to acknowledge and celebrate our drive to connect to each other. I wanted to explore the possibilities of being human when we push past all that threatens to hold us back. I wanted to be curious and kind. I wanted to show that we could talk about hard things, without doing it in a hard way.
I still want to do and be all those things, and more. Thinking out loud can be risky business. Managing words can be a little like herding cats. They have a mind, and intent of their own. They’re not above taking you in a direction you hadn’t planned on going. Although it can be unsettling in the moment you’re losing control, this independent streak of words is actually one of the things I like about the process of giving our thoughts a voice, written or spoken. If I take the risk of following the process, I usually appreciate where the words take me. The GrowthLines blog has become a doorway to amazing people, greater self awareness, and the opportunity to be a part of something good. Thank you for stopping by, joining the conversation, and paying it forward.
As a 7 X 7 participant, I am to:
- Share something about me that no one (in the blogging community) knows…
- Link up to 7 posts of mine that I feel worthy:
- Nominate 7 bloggers for this award and inform them (with pleasure):
Something no one in the blogging community knows…
As a child, I was a dreamer. In fact as late as college I still had a wide range of things I wanted to be “when I grew up”. The varied options included being a professional barrel racer, an opera star, a youth worker. In my defense, I grew up in the era of Dale Evans, singing cowgirl and advocate for children
My real reason for the uncharacteristic self disclosure? To say thank you to the host of grown ups in my life who encouraged me to dream big and listened to my oversized musings without throwing cold water on them. I think they knew that the process of living would shrink my list over time, so they just listened and encouraged. I took it for granted at the time, adults encouraging me to dream and dream big.
I sit with kids everyday. Sometimes they tell me their dreams. Some of them seem pretty outlandish. I try to remember to be listen carefully, without judgement, without cold water. I hope I’m not the only adult hearing their stories.
Sometimes I sit with kids who have lost their dreams. Too much life, too soon. Too few listeners. Too much cold water. I try to listen in ways to revive the dreams. It can be hard to breathe life into dreams when innocence is gone. Hard, but maybe not impossible. Be a dream listener pure and simple, to the kids in your life. If we listen well, they may trust us to help edit the dream when the time comes.
Seven posts that I feel are worthy of revisiting…
One of the time intensive aspects of accepting the gracious gift of an award from a fellow blogger is discovering and deciding who to give a gift to. These exploratory trips into to Blog Land have also become the gift that keeps on giving to me, as I find written treasures and new voices. They speak honestly, with hope and humor, with encouragement and information. Most of those recognized in this post are new to me. I’m excited about having found them. Their thoughts and experiences have touched me and made me glad I stepped into the blogging community. I have linked to a specific post on each blog. I hope you will explore their entire territory.
Seven bloggers I would like to nominate for the 7 X 7 award…
Blogging for Mental Health, 2012
I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2012 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.
I am happy to express a “Thank You” from the bottom of my heart to Jen at Step On A Crack… for passing the Blogging for Mental Health Pledge on to GrowthLines. Jen is an insightful soul writing powerful and poetic thoughts about life as the child of an alcoholic mother, about losing too many too soon, about growing through the hard places. She talks candidly about the ripple impact of Wernicke-Korsakoff; alcoholics dementia, on the alcoholic and their spouse, children, extended family, friends, and community. In Jen’s words,
“This is a cautionary tale. I hope it will be of help to those who live with alcoholics, are active alcoholics and those who are in recovery.”
It is a tale well worth reading. Jen was courageous enough to start the conversation. I hope you will drop by Step on a Crack, and join in. Thank you, Jen
My Mental Health Map, Chapter One
Good News, Bad News
Two important characteristics of maps should be noticed. A map is not the territory it represents, but, if correct, it has a similar structure to the territory, which accounts for its usefulness. ~ Alfred Korzybski
Frankly I am struggling a bit with the idea of posting my “mental health” biography. Not for reasons you might assume. I’m not ashamed or incapacitated by my history, although I do have some regrets and scars due both to choices I made and things imposed on me by others. No, my struggle has more to do with a) being a pretty introverted, private person, and b) the value I place on finding a balance between knowing I bring my “self” into the therapeutic relationship and knowing that “it’s not about me”.
I came out of childhood with an array of “good news, bad news”. The bad news was attached to learning that life can hurt, disappoint, and change you. I lost people close to me, discovered that grownups you trust aren’t always trustworthy, and had to face the outcome of foolish decisions.
The good news is that I experienced childhood surrounded by people who loved me. I experienced the wisdom, love, nurture, and discipline from three generations of grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles. I had the luxury of celebrating childhood with cousins and close friends. My childhood wasn’t idyllic. It wasn’t awful. It was a mixture, and I am still learning and being shaped by the whole of it.
My Mental Health Map, Chapter Two
Seeds, Earthquakes, and Rogue Waves
I hope you will stop by later for “the rest of the story”. The part I love to talk about. I look forward to thinking out loud about the joy of being a part of the mental health community, of the ways my life has been enriched, of the continuing education I have received under the tutelage of clients and colleagues. Another day, another conversation.
NOW, the fun part. I (we) get to ask five (5) other people to take the pledge for blogging for mental health. Please join me in supporting and encouraging mental health by visiting these voices:
Our attitudes and daily effort will determine our misery or happiness going forward. Healing is possible and likely if you do the work. You have to believe you can heal and practice that belief daily.
Grief: One Woman’s Perspective
Every person’s grief is unique. Every person – and their own “factors” – are unique. Every factor plays a part in how a person grieves and how long it takes to integrate the loss into the fabric of life. Because we live in a society that is distanced from grief, it falls to the bereaved to teach others how to help. This is a daunting task, especially for a bereaved parent already dealing with so much. This blog is written using selected journal entries I have written since March 2002. My only goal is to give some insight of what it’s like to be on this side of the fence. I hope in some measure it can be of some help.
The world needs better men. This blog is simply my journey to becoming a better man every day and the lessons I learn along the way.
understandingthepast
The beginning of my mother’s ending
The beginning of my mother’s ending
Like a compass needle slamming from South to North! My life was eventually turned from disaster and depression to hope and gratitude! I only look back in order to remember how difficult it is to find serenity and direction when first sober.
The rules of the pledge are:
1) Take the pledge by copy and pasting the following into a post featuring Blog for Mental Health 2012
I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2012 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.
2.) Link back to the person who pledged you.
3.) Write a short biography of your mental health, and what this means to you.
…,and keep your sense of humor.
My first clinical internship while in graduate school, was as a therapist in training at a hospital. I worked primarily on the adolescent residential unit with kids who were there for a length of time. During the internship, I was also hired to work weekends. After graduating, I worked full time while completing the requirements for licensure.
I loved my job. I might still be there, except the hospital closed. But while I was there, I loved being a therapist and working with teenagers in an inpatient setting. I had already worked a lot with kids in a church setting, and I discovered there were many similarities between church and hospital. Perhaps the most striking difference was that the kids now lived at the “church”. They were there 24/7, which meant I got to be present for the best and the worst as teenagers tried to navigate their life (lives). The teachable moments happened frequently right in front of me.
We’re used to thinking about teachable moments in the lives of children. We’ve heard a lot about the importance of adults recognizing and taking advantage of those moments as golden opportunities for growth. Moments when children are more open to learning, more malleable.
Working in that hospital, fresh out of graduate school, taught me that teachable moments aren’t reserved for children. I was sometimes painfully aware that while the kids on the unit were trying to find themselves and their path, the adults involved were engaged in a parallel learning process. We were routinely faced with our own teachable moments, often under the instruction of the kids we were responsible for. Growth was an equal opportunity experience for doctors, nurses, techs, a variety of therapists, unit school teachers, and me. It was on that adolescent residential unit that I learned the impact of responding vs. reacting. I began to watch the ways our behavior as staff helped escalate or de-escalate the behavior of the kids on the unit.
One day as I talked with a frustrated colleague, I began to think out loud about the self-management skills that could make or break your work with hospitalized adolescents. Over time my colleagues began to refer them as Paulann’s Cardinal Rules for working on an adolescent residential unit. A fellow therapist arrived at the hospital one day with a stack of computer generated “Cardinal Rule” cards for me to hand out to my peers. It became a running joke grounded in seeds of truth.
When the hospital closed I went on to new jobs, new colleagues, new consumers, and new teachable moments. I don’t think I realized at the time that the one thing I took with me were those rules. I discovered they were helpful to remember and to practice, with my children, my colleagues, my clients. Those rules have been with me for twenty years. I think I even have one of those original cards in my momento stash. Those rules have served me well. I would like to say they’ve become second nature to me. That I do them in my sleep, with one hand tied behind my back. But in spite of knowing them, there are times I violate every single one. So maybe they’re better thought of as goals to shoot for. So, for what it’s worth, Paulann’s…,
Daily Goals To Shoot For
1. Don’t Forget to Breathe.
2. Keep Your Sense of Humor
3. Don’t Take it Personally
Show and Tell
Adults tell children. Makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s our job as parents, teachers, grownups in a community. We’re supposed to teach them right from wrong, how to be responsible, how to make good decisions, how to succeed as they make their way in the world. We know it is our job to tell them how to do what they’re supposed to do.
Adults show children. That’s more complicated. Most of us have had the chance to learn how much easier it can be to “say” what to do, than it is to “show” what to do. If we are going to show what our children need to see, we must become good observers of our own behavior. The less we know ourselves, the greater the risk that the subtle, and not so subtle messages in our actions may speak louder than what we’re telling a child is of value. The task of telling and showing children how to be sometimes meshes well, and sometimes leaves us in a “do as I say, not as I do” moment. Even in a moment of contradiction we have the opportunity to tell and show our children how to go back and make it right. How to face ourselves and adjust our behavior. How to grow toward congruence.
We tell and we show. We’re the grownups. They’re children. They listen. They watch. They follow. All true. But what if there is more to the story? What if our teaching relationship with children is part of a multi-lane highway system instead of a single lane, one way street?
It was cold and drizzling rain this morning as I began my day. A day of being in and out of the wet, cold weather. Alone in the car I began to grumble about the unpleasant weather, planning ahead for how cold and miserable I would be as the day wore on. And suddenly she was there in my head. A little girl, holding an umbrella, running in the rain…, laughing. You may remember her from And we begin…, running, laughing, umbrella in hand. She was there in my head, reminding me how to celebrate a rainy day.
Then I began to think of all the children, my own two and beyond, who have been my teachers. Children who showed me how to call it what it is, including the elephants in the living room. Kids who showed me how to be honest when I’m afraid, to try something new when I’m uncertain, to laugh at myself, to push through a hard task. Kids of all ages who have shown me what generosity, tolerance, and empathy look like. I spent a cold, wet, dreary day smiling with gratitude each time I thought of the kids who have taught me. Glad that teaching and learning live on a two way street. Determined to be an authentic teacher and a good student.
“Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn’t music.”
~ William Stafford
Best laid plans…
The GrowthLines blog is about growing up, becoming a complete person. Growing up is the process of a lifetime, literally. Our growth often depends on our willingness to make a change. It seems only fitting that a blog inviting readers to grow, should be willing to change for growth too. With that in mind, I hope you will consider joining me in thinking out loud about:
- conversation by photograph – We’re probably all familiar with, “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Some say the original quote actually referred to “ten thousand words”. Either way, we know the power of images to speak. Bloggers have recognized the benefits of purposeful silence in Silent Sundays, and of using photography in lieu of words in Wordless Wednesdays. I haven’t chosen a standing title. I may not hold to a single day. I do plan to post a single photograph on a weekly basis, sometimes accompanied by a quote. No explanation or commentary. A photograph standing on its own. That’s where you come in. I hope readers will share their thoughts about the voices and stories in the image. I’m eager to hear the growing conversation that begins in silence, observation, and thought.
- a broader view – Since the first week of November, the focus has been on grief and loss. In the days ahead, the GrowthLines blog will take an expanded look at life and growth by thinking about community, relationships, parenting, and self awareness, to name a few. I hope you will…, join the conversation by sharing your thoughts on posted topics and by suggesting topics for us to talk about. (Please keep in mind, it’s not personal if a suggested subject doesn’t become a post topic.)
- layers of loss – because grief is an intricate part of our experience, we will continue to talk about both the pain of loss and the growth that is possible in our seasons of grief. I appreciate the courageous fellow strugglers who have taken pain in hand and stepped into this important conversation to the benefit of us all.
Watch for picture, and start the conversation.