are rolls and funks self-perpetuating?

I'm in a lucky spot right now:  I'm on a roll.  My job is great, my clients are amazing, and things in my social/dating life are going well.  I feel like I'm putting good vibes out there and the universe is responding with gusto by introducing me to interesting people and giving me good learning experiences.  It's pretty awesome.

This morning, though, I talked to a friend who is in the opposite spot.  She's in a funk.  (And it may just be a bad enough funk to be a phunk.  Or, perhaps the ever-dreaded pfunk.)  She's worried about where her life is going and how she's going to get there.  She's gone down a rabbit hole of doubt and fear, and is worried that not only will the pfunk remain, but maybe the judging voices in her head are right.

From the outside, I can see absolutely nothing wrong with my friend's life right now -- she's just facing some professional challenges and feeling some fear.  But it got me thinking:  what's the difference between where she is (pfunk) and where I am (roll)?  I think it's all about perspective.  I think my life is going well and it feels like the universe is rewarding me with this roll.  She thinks her life isn't going well, and the universe feels like it's rewarding her with a pfunk.

I'm not trying to say that we create our own realities (though I may be kindasortakinda implying that), but on the extreme edges (funks/rolls) I've personally experienced a strong mind-reality connection.  When I want to see crap, I can always find it.  And when all I'm seeing is good, life is sweet.

The challenge for me (and for many people, I think) is that it's hard to flip the switch from funk to roll.  It's kind of a chicken and egg scenario -- at this point, the outside world has to give me some indication that I'm doing well before I can feel like I'm on a roll.  What I'm hoping I might be able to get to is the opposite -- that by thinking I'm on a roll I can start to get out of a funk.

It's a matter of faith in myself and my abilities despite what I'm seeing in the outside world.  And at the moment, that feels like a big stretch.  But I'm willing to take my roll and see just how long I can get it to last.  And maybe that's the first step.

What evidence do you see?

In a conversation last night I was reminded of how easy it is to be so focused on seeing ourselves negatively – as somehow lacking, in need of improvement, or otherwise deficient – and how quickly life will serve us evidence that what we think is true. For example, if I think I’m imperfect, the enormous bruise on my leg (and my stupid clumsiness that led to it in the first place) will convince me I’m right. If I think I need to be better than I am, the feedback from my boss will convince me that I’m no good at my job. And if I think I’m deficient, not hearing from the guy I gave my card to will seal the deal on that one.

However, and this is the part that takes reminding, the reverse is also true. If we’re focused on seeing ourselves in a gentler, more accepting light, life will serve us evidence of that, too. If I think I’m human, I can laugh at the bruise – it is really nasty and a good story. If I’m patient with myself, I’ll see the helpful kernel in my boss’s advice. And if I believe I’m whole, I’ll let that guy sort his business out without me.

It’s all about selective attention.

Look at the video below and you’ll see what I mean.




Unfortunately, I knew what I was getting into before I saw the video, so I saw the gorilla walk right through the middle. But I could also see how, if I were focused intently (like I am sometimes on being hard on myself), I could miss it.

Think about what you gather evidence for, and if it’s what you really want to prove to yourself. If not, what can you do differently to prove yourself perfect, just the way you are?

The power of attention (or Hondas, Hondas Everywhere)

Ever notice how, when you buy something, all of a sudden you see that same thing all over the place? Those new shoes? Even the nuns on the subway are wearing them. That recent bestseller? You can’t get out of the coffee shop without seeing six fellow readers. I call this phenomenon “Hondas, Hondas Everywhere” because I first noticed it after buying my first car – a Honda – at age 16. All of a sudden, every car in every parking lot was a Honda. Every commercial was for Hondas. I could even swear Honda debuted a breakfast cereal that year. (Ok, no, not really.)

But that’s the power of attention. What you focus on can take over your whole awareness. And this is great, if what you’re focusing on is positive, uplifting, exciting, or even just neutral. But my experience has been that it tends to be only charged things that swoop in and take over our focus. Things we want, but don’t have. Things that piss us off. Things that stir up something restless inside of us.

I met a guy once who only saw happy couples. Everywhere he turned there was another couple, making out, buying milk together, holding hands, laughing. How dare they?! Hogging up the grocery aisles, giggling in the park, there was no safe haven from the onslaught of perpetually smiling twosomes! And these couples infuriated him, because he wanted to be one of them and wasn’t.

Couples, Couples Everywhere!

It can be the same thing with our bodies. It’s easy to see the flaws, focus in on them, and overlook what’s great about the way we look. One poochy bit, and all of a sudden we think we’re the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. One waggly bit, and the voices in our heads send us running for a muumuu. I, myself, spent almost 25 years between bikinis because I was worried about how my tummy was going to look.

Bellies, Bellies Everywhere!

So what do you do if you’re stuck in this spiral of negative focus? Try focusing on something else. Focus on nature, on smiling, on being in the moment. Feel the sun on your cheek. Hear the rustling of the leaves or the faraway rumble of the subway. The more our minds are focusing on what’s really happening in front of us (instead of the constant yammering of our inner voices) the less we’re likely to be trapped by the neverending train of chatter.

Truth is, there were the same number of Hondas before as there were after.

Joseph and his Amazing Technicolor Emotional Coat

A few weeks ago I returned to Yale for a reunion of my comedy group. I knew that going back to campus would be hard -- being in New Haven has always stressed me out, but when I got there, I met up with my best friend from the group (and one of my favorite people of all time) and we caught up.

"I'm just not where I thought I would be," he said, after outlining what's going on in his life. And I knew the feeling. When I graduated, I thought that by 33 I'd be running the world. I'd be some famous Broadway actor at night and running meetings in powersuits during the day. I'd have an apartment uptown and -- get this -- a car! As time has passed, though, I've gotten used to the simpler pleasures in life, and no longer seek stardom or parking. In truth, my friend is exactly where I'd like to be. He has a stable, challenging, great-paying job, a husband, a house, and two new cats. You know... everything!

"I'm not where I thought I'd be, either," I said, and all my doubts came flooding back in. Was I ever going to meet someone? Was I ever going to make enough money to afford a house or a baby? Was I ever going to amount to anything?!

At some point over the weekend, I realized that I was in the passing lane on the expressway to the land of self-doubt that I inhabited as a late teenager. And what better place to reinforce the message of "what have you done with your life?" than one of the most prestigious (and expensive) universities in the country? I felt tense, sick to my stomach, and unable to sleep.

I met a woman who made me feel really safe, and in talking with her I realized that I didn't have to feel so gross. I've accomplished a lot since college, not the least of which was growing into a sense of self that isn't defined by the need to amount to something. The difference between me now and me in college is that now I wear that self-doubt like a big, ugly coat. It gets hot, so I take it off any chance I get. Sometimes I even check it at the door! In college, though, I wore it like a skin, not even aware that it was something to be shed.

I bring this up now because soon, many of us will be headed home for the holidays. And what better place to revert to old habits and old messages of worthlessness than our childhood homes? (I know, sad, right?) I'm blessed. My family is so open that we've talked about these things, and about how much better it feels if we behave like children on purpose instead of by default. We ask for the attention we seek, and I find that I don't need to ask for nearly as much as I used to subliminally (and ineffectually) demand.

It's unpleasant, but I encourage you to put on your coat. Maybe it doesn't look like mine, laden with doubts about how good you are, (though if I had to guess, I'd say it probably does). Whatever material is used to construct it, pick that up. And then, before you go home, practice putting it down again. Hell, put down the coat you're wearing today. See that you have a choice about the thoughts that run through your head, and, in the spirit of the holidays, choose nicer thoughts.

Santa would want you to.

cultivate the good

The other day I was in a session with a client who has a very strong habit of focusing on the negative and totally disregarding the positive. It's a familiar habit, one that I have definitely engaged in myself, and one that leads to nothing but bleakness, sadness, and truly bad train karma.*

I did what I could to help my client to see that focusing on the negative is only going to bring more negative (boooooooo!), and that focusing on the good is only going to bring more good (hooray!). One of the tactics we tried was imagining that she was living in a sci-fi world where goodness was dying out. And that she was one of the few people left who could cultivate and protect goodness. So any time she saw something with even the faintest tinge of good to it, it was her responsibility to take that goodness, plant it in a garden, and tend to it.

She lit up with this idea, recognizing that "goodness" was not a judgment about whether or not an achievement was reached or someone was "worthy" of being deemed good, but rather a quality that could inherently exist inside something -- a situation, a person, herself...

So I closed the session feeling like I had cultivated some good, once again proving to myself that I do an excellent job of living what I teach.

And then the next day came.

I found myself getting twitchy about not having heard back from a guy I am dating. And when I catch myself doing that, I immediately call my sister (my cucumber cheerleader) because I know she's good at easing my twitch.

And, without going into too much detail, do you know what I was doing? Focusing on all the negative, and completely disregarding the positive! With blinders on, I was zeroing in on all the things that seemed "wrong" to me, and paying absolutely no attention to the things that were there to inspire me or give me hope that he was, in fact, interested!

Boy did I feel like a dummy.

But instead of focusing on how stupid I felt about not catching myself doing something it was so easy for me to see my client doing, I looked at how awesome it was that a) I did catch myself doing it, and b) I called someone who could help me get back on my path.

Sure, I could use this experience to prove to myself that I'm a horrible coach and can't possibly offer anything of value since I can't live it myself, or I can recognize (and celebrate!) the fact that I'm human, that I'm living it, too, and that life happens moment to moment.

And every triumph is worth a celebration.

(hooray!)

*the best way to cultivate good train karma? Focus on the times the train comes into the station right when you get there, and ignore the times you spend hours and hours waiting in the sauna for the train to finally come and then not be going to your borough. **

** I haven't gotten really good at this yet, obviously.

our lovely, imperfect selves

I was recently reading a post on the Sunday at Noon blog, in which matchmaker Marni Galison talks about how easy it is to fall into the trap of cutting off potential dates because they're not perfect. She says:

In most aspects of our lives, we can accept that the people we love are
flawed human beings but naturally we still love them anyway. Despite those
flaws, we recognize the qualities that make them the unique, wonderful people
they are and we cherish having them in our lives.

But for some reason, when it comes to dating, the minute we see that a new
love interest is less than perfect we rush to judgment. And often that judgment
is equivalent to the Spanish Inquisition – no one stands a chance from thereon
in.

She goes on to encourage us to forgive each other for not being perfect, which might make dating a little bit easier. (See the whole article here.)

I'd like to take that action even one step further -- I'd like to encourage us to forgive ourselves for not being perfect. When we accept, embrace, and even revel in our own imperfections ("that's right, I can be needy sometimes!") we are likely to be more forgiving of perceived shortcomings in others.

One of the things I try to do to give myself perspective on perfection and the challenges that other people face is simple: I put myself in their shoes. Given their situations, backgrounds, friends, fears, needs, etc., how would I act? Would I be different? And if so, can I at least understand better why they are they way they are?

It's a carry-over from my acting days when I used to put on all those things on behalf of a character, and I find it expands my generosity and patience with others immensely. (Which can come in handy when one is dating...)

there is no such thing as delay

I went to hear Michael Beckwith speak recently, and if you're not familiar with who he is, he's a non-denominational reverend who is more into god than any particular manifestation of him.

(He's also a better looking version of Milli or Vanilli, take your pick.)

His topic was something like "Finding Your Soul's Purpose," and I went to listen because I'm feeling a little stuck these days. I was excited to hear what someone with a different (and famously motivating) perspective would have to say on the topic, except... well, he never really got around to talking about the topic.

Instead we were greeted with a number of things I didn't particularly care for in his presentation, including a ten minute segment from his "dance minister" who wore a gauzy dress and flailed herself around in front of a room of paying customers, and a twenty minute version of a song whose title I can only assume was "I'm So Grateful that I Just Can't Stop Singing -- in English or in Spanish -- I'll just Keep on Going Forever," but that's neither here nor there.

Despite my mounting frustration, I stayed and listened for whatever nugget I could take away, and what I got was this:

There is No Delay in the Universe.

Beckwith's argument was that the Universe is perfect. It's perfectly balanced energy, and we (each of us) occupy a perfectly balanced place in it. I am a Kate-shaped energy inside of a Kate-shaped hole in the universal energy. (Or something like that.) So if something in your life feels stalled or delayed, that's only your perspective on it. The Universe (he argued) knows nothing about delay. All it knows is that you don't yet have the skills or tools or support or energy or whatever you need to move on to the next level.

Now, while this is a little bit of a Super Mario Brothers interpretation of the Universe, I like it. I like the idea that the reason I feel stuck is that there's something I haven't learned or gotten or processed yet, and this lull, this slow-down, is an opportunity for me to catch up on whatever that is.

So if you're in a place where you feel stalled, trapped, stuck, or otherwise Not Moving, ask around and see if there's something you don't have or know yet that would help you move into your next chapter. You might just be surprised.

(Although if the Universe tells you to become a dance minister, I might not listen...)

Feeling the impact of negative self-chatter

So how do you know when you’re talking negatively to yourself? One way is to feel it. Everyone is different and is going to feel his or her negative self-chatter in different ways, but for me, I get a tightening in my chest, and my shoulders start to slump. My throat tightens up, and my jaw gets tight. In general, my body feels like it’s stuck in paste or glue.

And I get super-frowny. Inside and out.

Take a minute to explore the physical sensations that accompany your version of self-chatter. If you can, find a partner (could be your roommate, spouse, mother, friend, trusted coworker), and share with him or her one of the good old standby negative thoughts you have. It doesn't matter how boring or regular the thought is (that you’re even worried that the thought is boring or normal is self-chatter!), just share it with that partner. As you say it, notice how you feel. If you don’t feel anything particular, say it again. Repeat it once and take a deep breath. Scan your body with your mind’s eye. Where is the tension? How is your breathing? What could be relaxed? If you’re still stuck, ask your partner what he or she sees happening in your body.

If you can't find a partner, try this exercise in the mirror. Watch your body as you say the nasty thought over and over again. If you don't see a difference in your body, try thinking about a positive thought (like that perfect sunset, or when you walked across a big stage to receive a diploma), and see how that impacts your body. Alternate between thoughts until you can feel or see a difference in your body.

Once you’ve got the feeling, jot down particulars about it so you know what to be on the lookout for later. The feelings may not always be this strong or the same combination of factors that you experiencing with your partner, but this is a good place to start in your noticing.

As you progress with this work and pay attention to yourself hearing your negative self-chatter, double check your body -- does the posture you assume when you hear yourself beating yourself up empower you? Or does it make you feel like you're stuck in paste, frowning on the inside as well as the outside?

Identifying negative self-chatter

Negative self talk for most of us, at this point, is sheer habit. We do it, and don’t even know we’re doing it. (You may even be judging yourself for doing it as you read this paragraph of me accusing you of doing it!) To some extent it's "normal," but that doesn't mean it serves us.

In the next few articles, I'll be discussing ways to handle the negative self-chatter in your head.

To start examining the issue of negative self-chatter, the first thing we need to learn how to do is to catch ourselves being negative. It takes practice (and patience) because it goes against what we've ingrained on ourselves for however long we've been hard on ourselves. But, luckily, there are ways to change all that!

The next time you catch yourself saying something negative about yourself– either feeling it, hearing it, or remembering it, take a moment and simply note it. You can commemorate the note in any number of ways – by breathing, taking a sip of water, jotting the thought down in a notebook, adding a bean to a jar… whatever works for you. The point of the exercise is not to punish yourself for having negative thoughts – we all do! – but rather to alert yourself to how MUCH you do it, and strengthening the muscles it takes to develop awareness around it.

To make it more bearable, have a little fun with it. Stay curious about how much you do this – if I asked you now, would you be able to tell me how many negative thoughts you have a day?

[This is NOT about punishment. I repeat: This is NOT about punishment!]

The objective is simply to hear yourself saying things. So every time you catch your saboteur saying something hurtful, you win. Even if you don’t do anything about the thought, or (bleck!) fall victim to believing it’s true. That’s ok! The point here is to work out the muscles that detect the voice.

The first step in being able to manage the thoughts you do have is to recognize THAT you’re saying things to yourself. When you've mastered that (ha!) then move on to hearing WHAT it is you’re saying.

curiosity did not kill the cat, it made the cat's life a LOT easier!

Curiosity is a quality we all have. It shows up when we look at puzzles and try to solve them, or when we meet someone new and want to find out more about that person. And I'd argue that we all like to think we know ourselves – because if we don't know ourselves, what do we really know? But when we act in ways that don’t serve us (or straight up hurt us) how well can we really know ourselves? If we were self-experts, wouldn't we avoid behaviors like that?

Finding out what drives our self-defeating or self-limiting behavior takes self-curiosity. And self-curiosity takes some detachment, the recognition of what’s going on inside of you, and a willingness to let go of the thoughts and emotions you may be holding deeply. This curiosity combo is one of the key tools in the battle against negative self-chatter.

Recognizing “I feel angry” and then asking yourself without judgment, “hmm, that’s interesting. I wonder what it is that is making me feel angry,” can be really freeing. Identifying the feeling, labeling it, and then taking it apart can help you turn down the volume of the judgments in your head and choose to behave in different ways.

So what I know about emotions is that they’re less dependent on what happens to you than they are on the thoughts you have about what that means about who you are – thoughts that are completely made up.

For example, one night I pigged out, eating more ice cream than I care to admit in public. And I woke up the next day angry, stressed out, and fairly miserable. I asked myself with curiosity, “hmmm, I wonder what is making me feel angry.” And I sat down with my journal to figure it out. After about half an hour of writing, I realized that I felt angry because I felt guilty. I felt like having eaten everything I ate, I’d never lose weight, I’d never have a boyfriend, and nobody would ever love me again.

All because I ate too much ice cream!

So I asked myself a simple question: What if all of those repercussions weren’t true? What if I just ate more ice cream than I needed (because I wanted something else that I wasn't getting), and in the future I could still lose weight, I could still have a boyfriend and lots of people would love me?

And when I believed that was a possibility, I sat back down and got curious again – what was I getting from beating myself up about it? And when I was really honest, I realized that I felt like I had transgressed in some way, and that I needed to be punished, so I was beating myself up.

So I asked myself another simple question: What if that wasn’t true, either? What if what I had done wasn’t actually bad, and that there wasn’t anything to be punished for?

You can see how this process of taking things apart one thought at a time, getting really curious about why I was thinking them, and then being gentle with myself around the answers made it easier to see that I was making it all up.

Now, do I still want to gorge on ice cream? Yes, sometimes I do. But the more I practice forgiving myself and letting go of my attachment to judgments about myself – the more curious I get about my own behavior – the easier it is to do the stuff I want to do and eliminate the behavior I don’t want.

life is not a dress rehearsal -- or is it?

I love actors. (I used to be one, so it's fair to say I'm biased.)

The dedication actors put towards mounting a show is amazing -- like marathoners training for a race, or chefs preparing for a banquet. They put so much energy into learning lines, understanding their characters, trying on costumes, mapping out blocking... it's all part of the work. Everything an actor does to prepare his or her role makes for a more fulfilling and galvanizing performance. And good actors take time every day to make sure that they're adequately prepared for opening night.

Another reason I love actors is that they're the perfect metaphor for personal growth.

Personal growth also takes time and energy. While there are no lines to learn, there are lines to unlearn (like the stories we tell ourselves inside our heads, or the beliefs we have about who we have to be) and that process takes quiet time spent with pencil and paper, or in discussion with others. Actors try on the lives of others, but you (assuming you're not an actor) can spend time trying on your OWN life. Studying your own character.

Here are some tips for exploring your own character, taken from my time as an actor:

1. What's my motivation?

When a character walks onstage, generally it's because he/she wants something. The playwright has chosen to show us this moment in time because it matters. In your life, every minute is also valuable, and you, too, are walking around with an agenda. From moment to moment, your motivation can range from "sixteen Oreos sounds like a good idea" to "I want to create world peace," but add up all those moments and there is an overarching agenda that helps define you as a character. Or, you know, a person.

When an actor learns and studies a character, she looks for that big arc (the one that carries the character from the beginning to the end of the play) and then looks at all the moments in between to see whether they are heading the character towards or away from the big picture. You, too, can do this. What is it that you want to do with your life? Who do you want to be? What are you passionate about? If your life were a play, what would you want your character's motivation to be?

Once you discover that, align your moment to moment motivation with that goal.

For example, if your overarching agenda is "to connect with people authentically," then moment to moment actions like writing letters, making phone calls, and having dinner with friends is in better alignment than eating alone, reading books, and playing video games. (Not that the latter are negative things -- they're great -- but they don't serve your character.)

Find more and more ways to connect your character to his/her agenda, and your "performance" will be deeper, richer, and more fulfilling.

2. Be accepting

It is impossible for an actor to fully embody a character on whom he or she is sitting in judgment. I once played the role of a psychic hooker, and there were many times when it would have been easy to say that she was stupid, easy, or a victim (because, hell, she got beaten up even though she was psychic!). But to do that would not have been in service of her, and I would have been warping the playwright's intention.

It's the same with you. You may have days when you FEEL stupid, easy, or like a victim, but if you judge yourself and label yourself that way, you'll never get to what's great about your character. The playing out of your life will ring hollow and false.

Sure, every character has a flaw (or twelve). But that's part of what makes drama so delicious. Think about the people close to you -- they all have flaws, don't they? And you still love them anyway, don't you? Allow your own character to have problems that don't define him or her and see what magic The Great Playwright in the Sky* brings to you.

3. Commit commit commit!

To my mind, there is nothing worse than a flaky or uncommitted actor. It is a profession wrought with challenges and to pursue it half-heartedly doesn't seem worth the (pathetic) effort. So many actors are out there following their heart's desire, and are hellbent on making art and connecting with people in a deep and meaningful way, and we can learn a lot from them.

Those dedicated actors are never late to rehearsal. They are off book when they say they will be. They have done the research on the time period. They're already wearing the character's shoes. They've read other plays by the playwright. They know the character inside and out -- because all of this matters to them.

You can do the same thing in your own life. Show your life some integrity. Be honest, live up to your potential, and commit to being the kind of person you want to be.

The one thing my high school drama teacher, Mr. Luongo, told us over and over and over again was "Be on time. Know your lines." And that means being responsible, reliable, and present.

*I'm painfully aware of the high cheese-factor of this statement.

my own inner Statler and Waldorf

You know those muppets who sit on the balcony, kvetching about the show the whole way through? They're Statler and Waldorf. And I don't know about you, but I seem to have my own version of them in my head, endlessly muttering about what I'm doing, what I'm not doing, and whether or not I'm doing (or not doing) things I'm doing (or not doing) the right way.

It's annoying.

Anyway, over the weekend, I really socked it to them, and managed to shut them up for a whole afternoon!

I went for a group hike this weekend and found myself in a group where not one, but TWO of the guides were really cute. I chatted with both as the hike began, and discovered that I'd have a really flirty, good time if, when the groups split, I went in their group. However, the non-cute-guide group was smaller and was going to go on a slightly more hard-core hike, and I was drawn to that.

When we were splitting up, Statler and Waldorf started to chatter.

Statler: What's she doing? Is she going on the easy hike just because the guides are CUTE?
Waldorf: I think so.
Statler: I thought she wasn't dating for a while.
Waldorf: She ISN'T!
Statler and Waldorf: Wah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

(Am I unfairly representing their style? I always thought they laughed awfully hard at things that were barely funny.)

Anyway, before the groups got too far apart, I changed my mind, and joined the hard-core group. I'm not focusing on dating right now, I'm focusing on me, and what I want, and who I am, and the choices I make that have to do with me, and not boys. And that meant I was doing the more hard-core hike.*

And boy, did Statler and Waldorf not know what to say to that!

(In the end we all reconvened and hiked back together as a group, and there was some charming chatter exchanged, but I did that with my self-regard rather high, thankyouverymuch. Nothing beats sticking to a promise I make myself.)

*Editor's note: as it is used in this post "hard-core" means "less wussy and more hikey" but in no way implies that I'm remotely a badass.