Loops

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about loops—defined particularly as circular repetitive thoughts in my head that cause anguish and prevent joy. In my case it is a loop-the-loop, really. The two loops are: 1) how can I keep the people I love happy and 2) how can I keep the people I love safe (read: alive). Yes, these are both noble thoughts in moderation, but the loop-the-loop comes in when I obsess on them. These people I love—they are all grownups now, so it is primarily (or solely) their job to keep themselves happy and safe. By the ways, sometimes the happy/safe goals are in conflict; just ask my 21-year-old rock-climbing devil-may-care son if you don’t understand this.

And so, I spend a lot of time in the loop-the-loop coming up with new schemes for keeping the people I love happy and safe. And many of these schemes are irrelevant, impractical, invasive, inconvenient, impossible, idiotic, irrational, ill-advised, or some other word beginning with “i.” So…here are the top ten ways to get out of an unproductive mental loop, or for the really unfortunate, a loop-the-loop:

Top 10 Ways to Escape a Loop

10. Switch to another line of thinking or get a new perspective. Change the subject. This is the basic principle behind “The Work” and “Feeling Good” or CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) – see previous blogs on this. However, make sure the new line of thinking is not another loop.
9. Argue with the loop. Counter the loop. Find the flaws. Another principle behind “The Work” and “CBT” – but be sure the argument does not itself become a new, even more obsessive loop.
8. Do something physically demanding that requires effort and concentration to stop the loop. Clean out the fridge. Dig up the dandelions.
7. Write the loop down, and keep writing about it until the pain of writer’s cramp distracts you from the loop and you start to see beyond it.
6. Do something mentally demanding that requires enough concentration to stop the loop. A timed game of Scrabble is one example – have I mentioned Scrabulous lately?
5. Have a conversation with someone else (but not about your loop!). Really listen to them, even if it is about their loop, for a while. But don’t try to fix them or their loop, especially if that tendency is part of your loop.
4. Read a really good book (for example, murder mysteries and the Harry Potter books work well for me).
3. See a really good movie, preferably one in which people are not dwelling unproductively on their loops (perhaps the latest Indiana Jones movie – Roger Ebert loved it).
2. Perform a random act of kindness for a stranger. Pay it forward.
1. And the number one way you can get out of your loop – be aware that you are in a loop to begin with (this is the hardest part). Hint: if people are telling you that you are in a loop or mentioning concepts like broken records when in conversation with you, this is a strong indication that you are in a loop.

Comments? What is your loop? What is your last act of random kindness? (If you can’t remember, it’s been too long.)

The Voice in the Head

I have been thinking a lot about a concept covered in Eckhart Tolle’s “A New Earth” – the voice in the head. He tells the story of being on the subway on his way to work and observing a woman having a loud and angry conversation with a voice in her head. The woman is very agitated and upset, and looks down and off to the side into empty space as she continues a conversation along the lines of: “And then she said to me…so I said to her you are a liar how dare you accuse me of…when you are the one who has always taken advantage of me I trusted you and you betrayed my trust…”

Tolle mentions that later, as he is standing in the men’s room at work washing his hands, he thinks to himself, “I hope I don’t end up like her.” A man standing next to him looks briefly in his direction, and he realizes he has said these words out loud, he is already like her, that his mind is just as “incessantly active as hers,” and that really if she is mad, so are we all to some degree. Tolle says:

For a moment, I was able to stand back from my own mind and see it from a deeper perspective, as it were. There was a brief shift from thinking to awareness…at that moment of detachment from my mind, I laughed out loud. It may have sounded insane, but it was the laughter of sanity, the laughter of the big-bellied Buddha. ‘Life isn’t as serious as my mind makes it out to be.’ That’s what the laughter seemed to be saying. But it was only a glimpse, very quickly to be forgotten. I would spend the next three years in anxiety and depression, completely identified with my mind. I had to get close to suicide before awareness returned, and then it was much more than a glimpse. I became free of compulsive thinking and of the false, mind-made I. … Thinking is only a tiny aspect of the consciousness that we are.

This might have been part of what Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows is talking about in the song, “Perfect Blue Buildings,” repeating the phrase,

How am I gonna keep myself away from me
Keep myself away
How am I gonna keep myself away from me
Keep myself away...

It's an idea that many of the books I’ve been reading express in one way or another; the AA groups refer to it as “stinking thinking.” The meditation books describe techniques for cessation of thinking, for emptying the mind. My skill is slowly increasing at stepping outside of myself, noticing my thinking, and more importantly countering it when it is causing anxiety, grief, or my personal favorite: guilt.

A Passage to India

I had a surreal computing experience a few mornings ago. My Norton Internet Security software was having the same trouble it had once before where the “Live Update” feature automatically downloads all the appropriate updates including the latest virus definitions, but then can’t seem to recognize that it's done this, and insists on starting the process over and over again - while annoyingly warning me that I am “unprotected.”

Oh, yes, those of you have Macs are laughing smugly right now since you didn’t spent your Saturday morning trying to fix this problem (or another one I still have and am too lazy to fix where Micro$oft’s Auto Update keeps trying over and over again to update .Net on my PC each time I shut it down (all the more enfuriating when, as far as I can tell, I have no earthly need for .Net anyway).

I laugh out loud at Apples “Mac and PC” commercials on TV, where the Bill Gates look-alike is repeatedly embarrassed in front of the young and perplexed Mac character. A recent one has Bill in the cobra position on a yoga mat, working off his “stressful year with Vista” aided by a young and lovely yoga instructor who is gently banging a gong at each salient point, while “Mac” observes bemusedly on the sidelines. “Breathe out and expel all that Vista bad energy…”

Eventually the once serene yoga instructor becomes distraught over Vista’s negative impact on her Yoga studio billing software and bangs the gong so hard that it falls over in a loud clatter. Then she rises gracefully, as yoga instructors are able to do, and stomps off while Mac looks on, shaking his head. The PC bashing is well deserved – but I have a PC at work and I don’t really want to switch back and forth between two different operating systems each day. Anyway, I digress.

To solve the more pressing anti-virus software problem I went to Symantic’s website seeking help, and decided to try the real-time 7x24 tech support chat and PC Rescue feature. It wasn’t long before I was in chat mode with “Saravanan,” who I am 99% sure was working from India at what would have been about 10:00 pm local time there. After downloading some “PC Rescue” software, Saravanan took control of my PC with my queasily extended permission, and soon the mouse pointer was moving by itself in ghostly fashion on my screen, working to fix the problem. A reboot was required and then some registry magic, the running of an auto fix program and the restarting of a certain Windows service that had mysteriously been stopped – at which point the problem seemed to be fixed (and has not returned since). Saravanan said that if the problem recurred I should contact them and get an upgrade to the 2008 version.

This was the global economy in action for sure – somebody on the other side of the world fixed my PC. And somebody on the other side of the world is earning a good living doing that. There are many ways in which the Internet is a bane and a curse – but there are also many ways in which the Internet brings miracles into people’s lives. It’s a love-hate thing.

Digging Up Dead Thyme

Mark mentioned a conversation he had with our next door neighbor Jim while Mark was in the front yard “digging up dead thyme.” We both laughed at the irony of this phrase and agreed it should go in at least one of our journals; he told me that it was a gift to me and I should record it in mine. Why is the phrase so amusing? I suppose because I do spend a good deal of my time (hah!) thinking thinking thinking about past events, losses, things that could have gone better, mistakes and mysteries.

On the other hand, sometimes yard work has to be done to clear out dying vegetation and then it is quite necessary to “dig up dead thyme;” to finally understand what happened long ago and how it is influencing the present dream.

I just finished a book called “Loving What Is,” by Byron Katie, another book about accepting and living in the present. In this book, Katie (as she calls herself) talks about emerging from a deep depression with a sudden understanding of how to do “The Work” to look at the problems of life in a new way. She sums up the work as follows: “Make a judgment, write it down, ask four questions, turn it around.”

I make it sound a little simplistic or a little crazy, but what it does is make you look at a problem that is causing you great unhappiness and see it in a new light. This follows the same path as other approaches such as cognitive behavioral therapy and the Power of Now—the idea is to be mindful of the thinking that is causing suffering and to dispute or counter that thinking. When it works (and I have found that it can work), it can alleviate some of the suffering. It is a focus on the pure reality of now.

Telling someone else about it, however, in the hopes that you might help them alleviate their own suffering, is alas a very different matter and quite difficult to do. A person is not ready for this until they’re ready, and until they’re ready, it sounds off the wall, boring or both. (Hello? Still there?)

What are your experiences with techniques for changing your moods for the better? Feel free to post here. For my other blogs on this topic, see Sanity.

Sunrise in Galveston

We made our way to Galveston Island for a short vacation over Easter. Our balcony looked right out on the gulf and the steady sounds of the surf were soothing to my stressed out ears. We watched the moon rise over the water on the first night, a beautiful sight difficult to capture with a camera, and we saw a sunrise the next morning that was just as beautiful, with the great orange sun lifting liquidly off the surface of the water before rising in a shimmer to light the new day. We soaked luxuriously in the condo hot tub several times, and declared that this might be something we’d enjoy having in our own home.

Galveston Island is an interesting place – culturally diverse with a history. There was a Battle of Galveston during the Civil War because of the importance of port access, and indeed we were able to wander across the island and see the port and the two cruise ships docked there on Sunday – a reminder of a previous trip we’d taken when we cruised down the Mississippi from New Orleans the very last year before Hurricane Katrina nearly destroyed it.

There are nuances of New Orleans in Galveston as well; old mansions, palms and elaborately branched live oak trees, an exotic feel that whispers of Bourbon Street but only the faintest of whispers. In March, the streets were relatively empty and seemed deserted – there was a chill off the ocean and it was not yet time for the crowds and the sunbathers. We walked along the famous Seawall, built after a terrible hurricane in 1900 took the lives of at least 6,000 island people who had no warning and in any case no quick way to escape the big waves—the worst natural disaster in the history of the United States. Three quarters of the buildings in Galveston were destroyed in this hurricane, and the town began building the seawall that now stretches for more than 17 miles along the Galveston coast. One edge of the seawall was a short walk from our condo. In inimitable Texas style, there were no guardrails to protect a heedless tourist from walking or biking right off the edge of the wall with quite a drop to the rocks below. No nanny state here in Texas; just keep your eyes peeled. I pondered the glaring contrasts of a state that could have produced both George W. Bush and Molly Ivins (who had the wit to first call GWB “Shrub” and “Dubya” and who I miss dearly during this election year).

We drove across a causeway to Pelican Island and talked to fishermen on the pier who showed us several whiting they had already caught that morning (too early for speckled trout, they said). Along the road on Pelican Island we encountered a strange sight – a huge burst of flame, emanating significant heat as it shot from its tower, and burning endlessly orange against the blue sky. Quite beautiful in its own way, but also alarming, some kind of burn off of natural gas from an oil derrick we were guessing. A telltale sign across the road proclaimed: Halliburton Corporation. Galveston is unapologetic about the “oil bidness;” a helicopter flew across the ocean and over our condo each day at about the same time, a courier for the offshore oil operations just barely visible by the red lights across the ocean.

We walked both ways along our beach several times during our stay and got a sense for the western, and less crowded, end of the island in an area called Jamaica Beach. We also explored the east end and the town, having Easter breakfast in the elegant Hotel Galvez. Restaurants were scarce on the west end of the island, but on the last night we visited a place called Woody’s with a weatherworn balcony that looked out over wetlands, water birds and the ocean. Woody’s served liquor only, no food, and was probably one of the grungiest dives I have visited in recent memory with a strong biker theme, a quarter pool table with decent cues, and smoking allowed anywhere you damn please. But the people were friendly and the young woman tending bar assured us that we could get food across the street in one of three restaurants, all good. One of these was closed altogether but we managed to make our way to The Captain’s Table where we indulged in fried seafood that neither of our waistlines needed, but why not? We were on vacation.

On our last day we visited Moody Gardens with its pyramids housing an aquarium and a rainforest with parrots. We turned pure tourist at that point and I took several pictures of fauna and flora including quite beautiful tropical birds and orchids. We lunched in the Moody Hotel and Resort where posters proclaimed that, should one wish, one could attend a program called Gospel by the Sea.

We were ready to come home after a few days, appreciative of the change of scene but glad to be back in our little house that now seemed spacious after the condo, and able to dine on food we cook ourselves which, we do say so ourselves, is 99% of the time far superior to anything we find in any restaurant regardless of how much we are willing to pay.

Bitches Get Stuff Done

Are you wondering what exactly Tina Fey said on Saturday Night Live the other night that made so many women shout, "right on!"? She was doing a commentary on the "News Update" segment and she said this:

Maybe what bothers me most if that people say that Hillary is a bitch...yeah, she is. So am I...You know what, bitches get stuff done...bitch is the new black!

So many times at work and elsewhere I've observed a core group of people working on various projects who communicate proactively, retain a sense of humor, collaborate on fresh approaches to long-standing problems, include other people and keep them informed, help each other accomplish things, find common ground, facilitate and resolve conflict, and think ahead, warning each other of upcoming potholes in the road. And the members of this core group, with very few exceptions, are women.

Many of these women are not shy about being assertive and striving to persuade others to their viewpoints. They sometimes even raise their voices a tad; they have high standards, and sometimes they interrupt to get a word in edgewise.

Some people call them (us) bitches. If that's what a bitch is I'm fine with being one, and voting for one as well.

Bitches get stuff done.

Avalanche

I heard a song on the radio the other day by Shawn Colvin called “Shotgun Down the Avalanche” from her album “Steady On,” Columbia Records 1989. And now it is a bit of an earworm for me so I am writing about it to see if it cures the earworm. It starts out:

I’m riding shotgun down the avalanche,
Tumbling and falling down the avalanche.
So be quiet tonight, the stars shine bright
On this mountain of new fallen snow.
But I will raise up my voice into the void
You have left me nowhere to go.

This seems like a song about inevitability, in ability to control events. As far as I know, an avalanche can’t usually be controlled, other than perhaps the practice in Colorado and other states of using a shotgun to trigger one at safer and more alert moments. The song goes on:

Sometimes you make me lose my will to live
And just become a beacon for your soul.
The past is stronger than my will to forgive,
Forgive you or myself, I don’t know.

I’m riding shotgun down the avalanche,
Tumblin’ and fallin’ down the avalanche….

Words to songs have always been meaningful to me, and I probably have the lyrics to hundreds of songs lodged in my brain. Somehow this song reminds me of certain lessons that life keeps trying to teach me with mixed success:

• I only have control over my own reactions.
• Sometimes helping is robbery.
• You can’t fix everything, no matter how good you are, and sometimes inaction is the best choice. But sometimes not. How do you know? Reach down into your heart and do what it tells you.

The avalanche is an apt metaphor. Stevie Nicks wrote a much-loved and much-covered song in her early twenties called “Landslide.” She wrote the song in Aspen, Colorado on the night before her dad's operation at the Mayo Clinic, at a time that for many reasons was a turning point for her career and her life. She had a lot going on--and it all converged at once in this song that questioned whether she could really make it to the next stage in the career and the future she had envisioned. She ended up deciding to stay with her music – and three months later on New Year’s Eve Fleetwood Mac called her.

She says about the song: “I realized then that everything could tumble, and when you’re in Colorado…you think avalanche. It means the whole world could tumble around us, and the landslide would bring you down…when you’re in that kind of snow-covered surrounding place, you don’t just go out and yell, because the whole mountain could come down on you.”

Landslide

by Stevie Nicks

I took my love, I took it down.
Climbed a mountain and I turned around.
And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills
‘Til the landslide brought me down.

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons in my life?

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you.
But times make you bolder, even children get older,
And I’m getting older too.

Oh, take my love, take it down.
Aha, climb a mountain and turn around.
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down.

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide will bring it down.