Holiday Makeover: The Web We Weave

We had one not-so-favorite relative who wrote holiday letters. As I was growing up, each year brought the letter and a predictable rant from my mother, who pointed out how self-serving it was, and how annoying to read about the accomplishments of children, the enviable travels and untarnished successes of adults in that family. The dreaded “holiday letter” is not a warm and fuzzy memory from those early years.

Today, no other holiday tradition gives me more pleasure than connecting with people we have known at different times in our lives. I love reflecting on our year, pulling out the interesting parts, and sharing them. I delight in glimpses of other lives, many of them so different from our own. I enjoy reading about accomplished children, well-traveled and successful adults. I also appreciate hearing about the challenges, setbacks, and losses that come with life. Most of all, I revel in a web of connection that extends widely, encompassing the rich diversity of our fellow life-travelers and their experiences.

Why “make over” this treasured tradition and the web it weaves, catching up bits and pieces of family and friendship into a single, connected whole? Because an even better approach to web-weaving has emerged for me: Facebook!

It is no surprise that a holiday-letter junkie would love Facebook. Social networking takes the holiday letter 24-7, global, and viral. Every day my life is enriched by the successes, travels, struggles, humor and profundity of my Facebook friends. Through this remarkable technology, many relationships out of the past have become a vital part of the present. I receive inspiring words from the Dalai Lama, tips from Runners World, and reminders of local events. Photos and movies clips add color and action to the mix.

This holiday season, I wrote another letter. Pasted together favorite photos. Made copies. Updated the address book. Printed labels. Bought stamps. Printed return address labels. Folded and stuffed, sealed and mailed. We have also received a number of letters. I enjoy the surprise of personal mail in the mailbox.

But I am thinking about a makeover. Perhaps the expanding web of Facebook communication will replace the web of holiday mail with some of our family and friends. Perhaps it won’t. Still undecided.

What do you think? Do you welcome or dread the tradition of holiday letters? How do you experience the changing face of building and nurturing relationships across the miles? What is your perspective on weaving a virtual web?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Holiday Makeover: Giving and Receiving

I take on the topic of holiday gifts with trepidation. As I reflect on my personal journey of ambivalence around the tradition of gift exchange, I find pockets of pain that resist further probing. Hot buttons and exposed nerves. In spite of this response—and because of it—I am wading into the deeper water.

What could be more central to Christmas than presents? A tree without colorful boxes beneath is incomplete. “Are you ready for Christmas?” means “Are you done shopping?” Santa Claus. St. Nicholas. Three kings. How could any of this have an overtone of pain?

Should I live her a gift? What if I don’t, and she gives me one? What if I do, and she didn’t intend to? The dance of reciprocity can be awkward and painful, especially when expectations are in transition. A few years ago, I proposed that Lyle and I stop buying gifts for each other, and plan instead for a shared purchase or activity. That first year, he stopped. I didn’t. When Christmas morning came, I felt hurt despite myself. A pocket of pain.

What do we need (or want)? Many of us have all we need, and more. As I age, a lifetime collection of “stuff” is more of a burden than a treasure. Each gift brings, with the love of the giver, a mark of sentimental attachment that brands it non-disposable. A mixed blessing.

Surprise or fondest wish? Some of us love a surprise. We are pleased by a gift that reflects the giver. Others covet specific treats that they don’t indulge on their own. They want the beloved to know them so deeply that the perfect gift appears without prompting. Under the tree, we find Mr. Surprise presenting his own Fondest Wish, and wondering what went wrong. Oops!

Lyle and I have moved past that first awkward experiment, and decorative boxes under our tree are now empty. We are investing our shared indulgence in a holiday trip. We still have fun exchanging surprises with a few family members and close friends but, by and large, we celebrate in other ways.

I am reluctant to admit this ambivalence about gift exchange. It seems small-minded and ungrateful to question the purity of a practice rooted in generosity and love. I put it out there nonetheless, and welcome your response. How do you navigate the waters of change as your children grow beyond Santa, your bank balance falters, your storage area overflows, and your imagination struggles with the search for the perfect expression of your love?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Holiday Makeover: Stop, Look, Listen

The phrase “Stop, Look, Listen” emerged from my childhood memory bank. It was the motto for a program of awareness about crossing railroad tracks. Tracks were abundant in downtown Indianapolis, and safety around trains was a recurrent theme.

I hadn’t thought of the phrase for years. This morning, in front of the fire, it bubbled up.

This morning it is not about watching and listening for trains. It is not about watching and listening for other threats either. It is about watching and listening for life.

In the Christian tradition, we are observing the season of Advent. In Advent, we reflect on centuries of prophecy and remind ourselves that a savior is coming. We purify our hearts to receive the greatest of gifts. We open our minds to accept a miracle. Stop. Look. Listen.

In the Buddhist tradition, we practice meditation with a similar theme. We sit. We breathe. We attend to the present. We watch our thoughts, but neither grasp nor follow them. We watch our breathing, listen for sounds, tune into sensations. We stop, look, and listen.

In contemporary American tradition, we multitask. We make to-do lists. We fit more and more into the day. During the holiday season, we reach an overwhelming crescendo of busy-ness. We look forward to season’s end and anticipate the relief. Perhaps there is a better way: what would happen if we built a practice of pausing into our hectic holiday schedules?

Time alone before others wake up. A cup of tea midmorning, sitting quietly and breathing. A yoga class over the lunch hour. Fifteen minutes of reflective reading midafternoon. A hot bath after work. Bedtime prayers. Prepare for a miracle. Fully experience the present. Stop, look, and listen. No trains, safe to cross.

How will you build a pause for reflection into your day, especially during this busiest time of year? What will it take to carve out a few moments to fully enjoy the miracles of each moment and to recognize the gifts they have to offer? Stop, look, and listen.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Midlife Holiday Makeover

Thanksgiving. Black Friday. Small Business Saturday. The first Sunday of Advent. Cyber Monday. OK, it’s Tuesday. What holiday are we celebrating now? Something has changed since I was growing up. Most things have changed since I was growing up!

This is a time of year for traditions. If we combine the elements of darkness, cold, getting together, reaching out, eating, giving, and praying, we come up with a traditional picture of the holiday season. Traditions are powerful and they are comforting. They impose a layer of familiar ritual on our unpredictable lives and help us feel at home in the world.

But, somewhere in the middle of living, things may change:
• Grandma moves to an apartment, and no longer hosts our family gathering.
• We share our children with families of their own.
• Death and divorce, birth and marriage change the faces around the table.
• Distance, cost, weather, and stress change our plans for holiday travel.

This year for the first time, Lyle and I are celebrating both Thanksgiving and Christmas on our own. We will travel to Wisconsin in January for a wedding, and decided to connect with extended family at that time. Jonathan arrives for a few days this week while Jennie finishes her studies; they visit her parents the following week. They won’t be opening presents under either family tree on Christmas morning. Sigh.

What about tradition? What happens when the rituals we love no longer fit? One option is to sink into sadness, and many of us do. We indulge in nostalgia for times gone by. We regret the losses, and they are very real. We entertain the ghosts of Christmas past. Another option is to make a fresh start and to create new practices, beginning with basics. We can figure out what we like most, and assemble the pieces in a new and creative way.

Lyle and I have fallen short in the past. We have allowed Christmas-on-our-own to “just happen.” We have indulged in sadness, nostalgia, even tears. This year we are trying something new: renting a log cabin halfway across the state. With a modest travel commitment, we will have a different view out the window on Christmas morning. We are taking movies, music, and a jigsaw puzzle; our favorite stews and casseroles; some decorations; skis and snowshoes. And a spirit of adventure. I sense a new tradition in the making. Stay tuned!

How have the holidays changed for you over the years? How have you moved beyond resistance, to create and embrace something new? Good for you!

Until the next time, go well.

Pam Gardiner
www.wellbuddies.com

Thank You for Being a Pain

It’s the morning after Thanksgiving. I am still thinking about gratitude. A few years ago, I read a book that introduced a creative twist on the benefits of thanks-giving.

In Worst Enemy, Best Teacher Deidre Combs walks us through the dynamics of conflict. She draws upon cross-cultural examples to demonstrate the ways in which our approach to differences of opinion and clashes of needs can be turned to advantage. She points out that the process of working through tight spots with others can bring us forward on a journey to wisdom and inner peace.

In Chapter 5, Combs credits Dr. Dan Baker with writing that we cannot process appreciation and fear at the same time. The perception of threat enters through the senses and heads for the center where reactions are dispatched. Our instinctive response to perceived threat is drawn from a narrow range of options: freeze, fight, or flee. If we pause in that reaction, we can expand the range to include options that defuse fear and anger, re-direct the threat, generate goodwill, and seek solutions. In the structure of the brain, gratitude and creativity are neighbors: Give thanks, defuse fear, and reach for wisdom.

A few years ago, a co-worker gave me a book by Mark I. Rosen: Thank You for Being Such a Pain. The book explores the role of difficult relationships in our personal growth. The book also gives us insight into dealing with conflict: Begin with gratitude; follow up with a creative response. “Thank you for being such a pain, I can learn a lot from you.”

Imagine someone you know making an irritating statement—the kind of statement that triggers a sarcastic defense or sends you sulking to another room. Now imagine yourself responding with “Thank you.” Envision in that phrase the portal to a different way of seeing. “Thank you; I hadn’t thought of that.” “Thank you, I will take that into account.” “Thank you, I can always use a reminder.” If Deidre Combs is right, the next sentence may take us creatively beyond the alternatives of striking out or running away.

Give it a try, and tell us how it works for you.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

When The Going Gets Tough

As the holiday season approaches, I have an instinctive urge to reflect on Thanksgiving. What can be thought or said that has not become trite with overuse?

Gratitude is “in.” We have gratitude journals and gratitude calendars. It is a healthy trend, and I am pleased to be caught up in it. Nevertheless, the tendency to give thanks can skim the surface or it can plunge the depths. Let’s look just an inch or two below the obvious today, and see what we find.

Family, friends, and health. These are the most common things we say or hear when asked to give thanks. A job, a home, enough food. The first thoughts that come to mind would, if we completed the sentence, end “…because so many people don’t have what we take for granted.”

What would it mean for us to give thanks, even when our health has taken a hit, family members are fighting, and friends fall short of our expectations? Is it possible to be grateful when jobless, homeless, and hungry?

I won’t pretend to answer from personal experience. My own exposure to loss and deprivation is limited. I have, however, learned from others that giving thanks is a human privilege whatever the condition of our lives. In fact, the most powerful message comes from the gratitude that can arise from reflecting on setbacks, frustrations, and painful realities.

Without the divorce, his door would not have opened to a whole new life with a different partner, children, and extended family. Being fired taught her to size up her strengths, work with her shortcomings, and turn her life around. Cancer focused all of their energy on appreciating, affirming, and fighting for life without sweating the small stuff. A financial downturn brought lessons about the generosity of others and the value of a simpler life.

Clouds have silver linings, though they are rarely evident at first. I am experimenting with a new practice around this belief. When something goes wrong, and I hear myself begin a sentence “I am so (angry, frustrated, bored…or ?), I often catch myself and end the sentence with “grateful.” That usually makes me laugh. Who am I kidding? But then I go on and finish that sentence with “because….”

In taking that step, I actively look for the silver lining,and it’s always there. It may take some time to find, but it is always there. For example, one recent sentence ended, “…because it reminds me to slow down in a school zone, and the safety of little kids is important to me.”

Where in your life is thanks-giving hard to come up with? Dig deeper. What is your version of a silver lining? It’s there. I believe it is.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Midlife Makeover: Speaking and Dancing

Today I am stepping out of my comfort zone, and it surprises me. When I retired from a long and demanding career a couple of years ago, I felt relief. OK! Now I can do the things I like, and stop doing things that make me uncomfortable. I never liked budget meetings: they’re gone! Personnel actions: POOF! Mandatory online security training: History!

I looked for smooth sailing from here on out, at least when I had a say. I knew there would be a need to deal with health issues, changing roles, and global warming. But, where I had a choice, I could stay in my comfort zone.

Then one day, something weird happened. I decided to join Toastmasters. Like most people, I dread public speaking. I had considered joining while working, but never made the time to do so. Why now? I can easily avoid speaking in public these days. But I joined anyway. I am still outside my comfort zone, but have made noticeable progress after a year of learning.

Though public speaking is a challenge, getting better can be justified in light of my new coaching practice. Presentations can be a good marketing tool, and they help me share the passion for wellness with others. But what about dancing?

Last weekend, Lyle and I tried contra dancing. “Contra” is a good word, because this style of dancing runs contrary to everything that comes easily for me. Outside my comfort zone again, I fought to remember the difference between gypsy and swing, allemande and passthrough, partner and neighbor, left and right. I struggled with the intimacy of maintaining eye contact at close range, changing partners, and sweating with strangers.

While stressful, the decision to dance can be justified as well. We need aerobic exercise. We want to meet people. And following instructions uses the brain, generating neurons and postponing dementia.

Let’s expand the horizon, however, looking beyond these two adventures as means to an end. As I age, I realize that the attraction of comfort is a trap; a trap I want to avoid. To be alive is to stretch, to grow, to push the limits. The alternative is a comfortable glide path to the end. Yes, I want to shift the balance toward things I love and away from things I don’t. I also want to blur the boundary between the two, and move some activities from one column to the other.

How about you? Where does your comfort zone end and your sense of adventure begin? What have you done recently to push your limits? What have you considered but postponed doing? Is this the time?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Midlife Makeover: Taking Charge in Times of Change

I keep coming back to the theme of “midlife makeover.” The phrase has power for me, and I like to re-engage it from time to time. I find energy in the message of fresh beginnings in mid-life…in the midst of living. Thirty-five years ago, I was given a bookmark with the words, “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.” That phrase lighted my way through the pain of separation and divorce. Change happens. How are we going to deal with it?

While we are making other plans, or careening through life at full speed: Our children leave home. Our parents need help. Our life partner takes a different path. Our health takes a turn for the worse. Our finances take a nosedive. We get a new boss, lose our job, or retire.

We have limited influence over the nature and timing of life changes. Yes, we can make plans: we can make sure our insurance is current, help our children shop for a college, set a retirement date, get that annual checkup, and monitor our IRA. But still, there will be surprises. Our happiness has a lot to do, ultimately, with how we handle the unexpected.


I like the concept of “makeover,” because it’s all about me. Women’s magazines start with a model who has bad hair, no makeup, and poor fashion sense. They illustrate the makeover, showing how far she has come in a few short hours. Weight Watchers’ success stories include “before” and “after” pictures. Those photos do not portray a person who has managed to re-do her apartment, her spouse, her boss, or her children. It demonstrates that success comes from personal mastery, from going within, making a difference, and letting it show.

We can take responsibility for building new strengths in times of change. We can master our mental and emotional responses, focusing on what works and discarding the habits that drag us down. We can fire up the power of our imagination to envision success. We can draw upon our competencies. We can engage our networks.

For the next few weeks, we will explore the challenges that change our lives. In so doing, we will look for perspectives that can transform our pain into a celebration of new possibilities.

What are some recent changes you have navigated in “midlife?” What is your success story? How did you apply your strengths and draw upon past experience to chart an effective course of thought, feeling, and action?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Final Finisher Award: the Sequel

Last month we introduced the idea of presenting a special award to the runner who finishes last in a race. Many of you said you liked the idea. You will also like the way the story unfolded.

My friend Chuck read the Final Finisher article, and sent me a message. He knew the woman who had finished last in the race I was writing about. He knew she had overcome multiple challenges on her way to running 13.1 miles that day. He knew she was on the verge of moving across the country to start a new job. He suggested that we actually present her with an award—soon! Before she moved.

In less than 48 hours, it came together. We huddled with the running club director over a beer, and she loved the idea. A certificate was designed and framed. A copy of John Bingham’s The Courage to Start was rush-ordered from Amazon. The date, time, and place were set.

On September 30, Stacey Bray reported for her beginning runners’ class, to say good-bye before moving. We surprised her with the first-ever Final Finisher’s Award, surrounded by her new running buddies. After the event, Stacey shared a little about the journey that had brought her there. A year ago, her best friend committed suicide. In the process of recovering from that loss, Stacey decided to “choose life.” She stopped smoking. Lost weight. And started running. She entered shorter races,then registered for her first half marathon--and finished!

On October 2, Stacey ran the all-women’s Diva Day 5K. She wore a tiara. Her mom walked the event and, after her own finish, Stacey returned to walk her across the line. The next morning she drove out of town and headed across the country to start a new job, and to write a new chapter in the story of “choosing life.”

Meanwhile, back in Missoula, the Final Finisher was published in the October issue of our running club newsletter. The club Director wants to provide the option of such an award to race directors for any race in our series. My friend Chuck says the idea “has legs” (a serious compliment from a fellow runner).

Without enthusiastic response to the idea, without a friend who connected the dots and pushed for action, without the power of synergy...the Final Finisher Award was nothing more than material for weekly reflection. Here and gone. With those added ingredients, the seed of an idea is on its way to becoming a tradition, celebrating the Courage to Start, the Persistence to continue, and the Commitment to finish.


Look for that good idea hanging around in the background of your mind. What would it take to make it happen? Share it with friends. Combine your excitement. Fire up your synergy. You never know what might happen next!

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Rock 'n Roll

The distance was the same: 13.1 miles. Everything else was different. In Choteau last July 102 runners followed a gravel road across the plains. In Denver last weekend 15,000 people shuffled by the Capitol en route to the starting line. Arranged in order of pace, my son Jonathan was in "Corral 2." I was in "Corral 15." The racehorses and the plowhorses. We were running the Rock 'n Roll Half Marathon.

Days later, as my aching legs and tight knees linger, I ask, "Why?" "Why have I done 13 miles 13 times?" "Why do I want to do it 18 more times before I die? The tour of 25 states, 13 miles at a time has just begun. I am staring Medicare in the face. Why?

I find the answer at the back of the pack. After leaving Jon with his peers, Lyle walked me several blocks through the cold, dark morning to the end of the line. I knew, as soon as I saw them, that these were "my people."

A woman sported a sign, "today is my 65th birthday." A bunch of matching t-shirts identified Camp Make-a-Wish, fundraising for children with cancer. Others supported the Crohns and Colitis Foundation. Leukemia and Lymphoma. Diabetes. Suicide prevention. Some wear their disabilities on the outside; others carry them in private. We all have them.

Setting a goal, facing a challenge, and sharing the experience is a powerful way to deal with limitations. Life overflows with painful setbacks and temptations to give up. Lining up with a group at dawn to launch three hours of effort develops traits that can be applied in other settings: believing in oneself, showing up, seeing it through.

Why do I do it? I do it for the joy of knowing that I can. I do it in solidarity with those who are dealing with illness and other hardships. I do it to support beginners, and in sympathy with others who are re-calibrating their expectations with age. I do it because it is better to slow down than to stop. And, on Sunday, I did it because there were rock 'n roll bands every mile along the course.

What rocks your soul and keeps you moving forward in life? How do you express the joy of what you can do? Why? Who are your people? Who’s on your team?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Your Brain on Drugs: Clarity

Today we will complete our three-week journey through the highlights of Buddha’s Brain by Rick Hanson and Richard Mendius. This final reflection touches on the role of the brain, its chemical messengers, and mental clarity. We will look into our ability to focus, to absorb, and to follow a train of thought without jumping off the tracks.

The thinking brain exercises three related functions: holding material in active memory, updating to keep it current, and actively seeking new information. Optimal mental activity relies on a balance among the functions. Any of the functions, out of control, has a dark side.

When I hold too tight to active memory, I become obsessive: focusing on fears or needs, re-running old tapes, and displacing more productive content. If the updating function is out of whack, distractions overtake my mind. I cannot read a page or write a sentence without listening to the barista taking another order, a political conversation at the next table. Stimulus-seeking raises distraction to another level; not only do I tune in to events nearby, but I go looking for more—checking e-mail, getting a snack, calling a friend.

The chemical gate-keeper of mental attention is dopamine. When mental stimulation is moderate, dopamine closes the gate to new input, allowing us to focus on what we are doing now. When mental activity drops into the range of boredom, dopamine cracks the gate to let in some “breaking news.” If immediate danger or an intense craving arises, dopamine spikes and throws the gate wide for running from evil or pursuing the good.

I confess: mental focus is a major challenge for me. I welcome any suggestions for improving my ability to do one thing at a time, do it well, and sustain the effort. I am writing this morning at a coffee shop in Colorado, testing this theory in real life. The barista and conversation at another table are real-time events. Checking e-mail and updating my calendar and to-do list are hazards of laptop living.

Buddha’s Brain is a treasure trove of practical suggestions for improving the quality of mental and emotional experience. On the subject of focus, the authors suggest slowing down, talking less, doing one thing at a time, simplifying. They suggest setting an intention and developing rituals for keeping the intention in view (I am partial to stickies on the computer, bathroom mirror, and fridge.) They also recommend the practice of meditation to focus attention when tempted by distraction or hyperactivity.

What is your greatest challenge? Do thoughts fall out of your mind? Are they frequently diverted by events around and within you? Do you easily bore and go looking for action? These challenges are pervasive; they permeate our lives and our culture. We cannot escape, but we can use our understanding of the brain to respond more effectively when they arise.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Your Brain on Drugs: Community

Today we will continue our journey through highlights of Buddha’s Brain by Hanson and Mendius. I hope that these brief reflections inspire you to check it out for yourself.

Last week we looked at the role of evolution, the brain, and hormones in human happiness. We celebrated the balance of excitement and calm, and the roles of instinct and reason in our responses to events. In studying happiness, scientists find that we thrive on the energy of hormones that arouse, while we depend for stability on hormones that relax.

This week, we explore another aspect of experience moderated by the brain: our relationships with others. In the process of evolution from reptiles to mammals, apes to humans, the brain has grown ever larger. In doing so, it has generated the capacity for social systems: bonding in pairs, caring for young, and living in communities. Over time, we have developed empathy, language, ethics, and spirituality. It appears that the capacity to love and support one another has been proven a successful strategy for humans, and we reap the benefits.

While romantic attraction generates an endorphin “high,” the love drug of choice over the long term is oxytocin. With its help, we experience connections with others and value their well-being on a par with our own.Oxytocin stimulates generosity and sacrifice, nurturing and commitment. It feels good when we are together; it hurts to let go.

As with other hormonal influences, the chemistry of connection engages in give-and-take with opposing forces. Stress and aggression, hatred and war are fueled by cortisol and testosterone: substances with a mission to search for enemies and destroy them.

The conscious mind can influence its chemical environment, distinguishing thoughtfully between friend and foe. While the primitive brain views only those most like itself as objects of empathy and concern, a more advanced perspective expands its horizon and finds commonality with those who are different. According to Buddhist thought, the community of compassion includes all sentient beings. All humans. Mammals. Birds. Reptiles. Insects. Yes, even mosquitoes.

What is your definition of “us?” Who is your friend, your sister or brother, your fellow traveler? Are you quick or slow to define others as “them?” As suspect, untrustworthy, even dangerous? Step back, take another look. Don’t we have more in common than appears on the surface? Our hormones tell us it feels good to bond. It feels bad to separate. Give it a try.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Your Brain on Drugs: Equanimity

Do you remember the public service ads? “This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs.” I am reminded of that image when I learn more about the brain and its many marvels. To a degree, our brains are always on drugs. Those drugs are the hormones that regulate everything from perceptions to emotions, from self-defense to mystical experience.

Last winter, I discovered a powerful book: Buddha’s Brain, by Rick Hanson and Richard Mendius. I re-visit the book periodically, and learn something new each time. I want to share some of those insights over the next few weeks. I think you will enjoy the glimpse into the brain, how it keeps us on track, and how to work with that knowledge to build a better life.

The human brain is designed for happiness. It aims for a dynamic balance between excitation and repose, between overload and boredom. Happiness oscillates between the energy of "doing" and the inner calm of "being". Sympathetic and parasympathetic. Amygdala and anterior cingulate cortex.

Our evolutionary ancestors were not so happy. They scanned for threats and fought or fled on impulse. The “reptilian” part of our brain still plays that role in our lives. It directs the sympathetic nervous system to protect our interests with vigilance. It pumps cortisol into the system. The primitive brain reacts to those drugs with stress.

Over time, however the human brain developed a cortex—the seat of mental reflection. With the capacity to observe and evaluate, we grew the capacity to determine whether a situation truly threatened and called for action. The parasympathetic system makes sure we don’t go overboard, fearing imaginary monsters or seeing friends as foes. It suppresses cortisol and releases serotonin: a drug that calms the brain, enabling it to respond rather than react.

Watch the brain mindfully as it deals with your day. Feel the impact when it senses an insult and rises to the threat. Appreciate the peace that flows when the cooler mind enters the scene, sizes it up, and declares it safe after all. The zone of clarity between reaction and response is known as equanimity.

What practices do you employ to foster equanimity? Take a deep breath. Exhale. Count to ten. Go for a walk. Imagine a peaceful scene. Access the cortex, listen to its wisdom, and choose.

Until the next time, go well.
Pam

Tipping the Balance

It is 7:00 am, and the slightest hint of gray anticipates dawn. Somewhere in the recesses of slumber and darkness I missed the intention to rise earlier. Last week the balance tipped in the northern hemisphere. It tipped toward darkness and away from light. Little voices in my head argued for a few more minutes in bed before we launched the day. I will be setting an alarm for the next few weeks, until we get used to the change.

As a “transition junkie” I find it invigorating to
• pack away one set of clothes and hang up another;
• shift mornings from the sunrise view to a cozy fireside chair;
• dust off the treadmill; and
• re-pack my gym bag.

Autumn offers its gifts in the beauty of changing leaves and the the vitality of frosty mornings. It brings us “back to school,” whether in fact or in spirit, as crossing guards, fall sports, and students with laptops appear. It is a time for canning, preserving the harvest. Hunting, and filling the freezer. Cutting, splitting, and stacking wood for the fire.

Autumn also issues unique challenges, as we resume a framework of structure and responsibility. Business meetings resume. Phones ring. Calendars fill. Classes convene. Homework fills the gaps. We may miss the dominance of day and go reluctantly into the night.

A change of seasons calls us to re-balance our lives. Just as the equinox—that one day of perfect symmetry between daylight and darkness—passes quickly, the balance in our lives is always in flux. I wonder, is the season called “Fall” because that’s what happens when we don’t adjust in time?

What are the personal gifts of autumn for you? What are the challenges? How will you adapt to seasonal changes in weather, in daylight, and schedules and re-commit to year-round health and wellness?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

The Final Finisher Award

When we enter that first athletic event, many of us hear an inner voice, “I’m afraid I’ll come in last.” Most of us don’t. The fear fades for awhile. Years—or even decades—later, the age-group awards tarnish, and personal bests vanish into the past. As we face the reality of aging, the question of finishing last arises again. It has recently done so for me.

Last weekend I volunteered to help with a half marathon. The final feet pulled in almost two hours behind the first ones. As the clock passed 2:45 and headed for 3:00(my current best), the finishers spaced out…five, ten minutes apart. At 3:20, we welcomed the last person with all the enthusiasm available to a pod of five tired volunteers.

Most of the finish line food had been stowed. Awards had been presented, and the other entrants were enjoying beer and pizza next door. I really wanted to hand that last person something special. I wanted to present a large bouquet of flowers and some chocolate. That last person in had, in significant ways, achieved more than anyone else in the race.

The last person had the courage to start. Whether it was his first race or her 21st, they lined up at dawn knowing that they would be on the course alone after the first mile. They could envision the tired and impatient finish line crew, the empty parking lot. Yet they lined up anyway.

The last person had the persistence to continue as she saw the slower runners pull out of sight. The course monitors asked him, with a tone of concern, “Are you OK?” She found three lonely cups of water at the aid station. The batteries on the MP3 faded, and he could hear the ego’s insufferable chatter: What were you thinking? You must be crazy! You don’t belong here. You’re going to be LAST!”

The last person had the commitment to finish. He was offered a ride (more than one). It would be a favor to everyone else. This is so embarrassing. But I have a goal. I can do it. And I will.

Someday soon, I will finish last for the first time. It will be a milestone. I’m scared, but in some ways I am anxious to get it behind me. It is the price I pay for loving to run (perhaps even to walk), and for wanting to set ambitious goals, keep my body healthy, and maintain a love of life.

I also want to sponsor a new award—for the Final Finisher. I want it to include a special medal or certificate, and a gift. I want to send the message that courage, persistence, and commitment are a cause for celebration, at whatever speed. What do you think of that idea?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Two Hundred Times a Day: See, Think, Eat

This is the third and final part to the Mindless Eating trilogy, with a tip of the hat to author Brian Wansink. The theme today is the link between the eyes, the brain, and the mouth. The more of a food we see, the more we eat. Simple enough in concept, but is it supported by the facts?

Food-habit research has taken on the challenge. A study of office workers discovered key truths around the omnipresent candy dish. Seventy-one percent more candy was consumed from glass candy dishes than from white ones. The more visible the food, the more was eaten. In another study, food wrapped in clear plastic disappeared far more quickly than the same food in aluminum foil. Additional research yields similar findings.

We are faced with more than 200 choices about food each day: whether or not, what, how much to eat? Those choices are driven by our thoughts. Our thoughts are affected by our senses. The more of a given food we see, the more we think about it, and the more often we choose to eat it. I have been testing this concept at home, and have developed some promising new habits.

Many foods have been out of view for years: we don’t keep chips, cookies, or ice cream on hand. Other foods I consider staples, and they are always in the house. Some—like peanut butter or cold cereal—are easy for me to over-indulge. I started putting the PB in the frig, behind the plain yogurt and skim milk. I moved the cold from a clear jar to an opaque canister, behind the rolled oats. Voila! I don’t think about those foods nearly as often, and sometimes I go all day before deciding to indulge a modest serving.

It’s not all about saying “no.” I also want to eat more fruits and veggies. The last few weeks, I have set a small bowl of each on the counter, in full view: grapes, cherries, snap peas, carrots, baby tomatoes. By dinnertime, I have finished them off. It is easy to munch these healthy foods, much as I used to munch candy from the dish on a co-worker’s desk.

How might this finding work in your life? Do you think more about the foods you see? Does each “no” build momentum toward caving in to “yes” later on? What foods deserve a place at the back of the shelf? What should be sitting in the foreground? Are there some you find safer if left in the store? How do you want to try it out this week?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Eating in Orange

Fat pants? Skinny pants? The decision matters to those of us who want to get rid of abdominal fat. As we noted last week, we seldom stop eating simply because we’re full. If not that, what? I turn again to Brian Wansink’s book, Mindless Eating, for insight.

It turns out that weight gain is not just associated with college freshmen, pregnant women, or those of us approaching the golden years. A prison study showed that inmates are also inclined to pick up pounds (20-25 per six-month stay). Neither the the tasty food nor a sedentary lifestyle are to blame; it is a function of fashion. The standard-issue orange jumpsuit fits loosely; its waistband never gets tight. The occupant can overeat without feeling the effect. Fitted clothing tells us when we’ve had enough.

The amount we eat also depends on visual cues. In one study, subjects were offered unlimited buffalo wings while watching sports. For one group, bones from the last serving were removed when a new platter arrived. The second group surrounded a growing mound of inedible chicken parts. The second group consumed 28 percent less food than those with a tidier table. The bones told them how much they were eating.

I recently played with these two findings on my own. One day, I made a point of keeping all the plates, cups, and utensils I used in full view. I used a new container for each serving, and left it on the counter when I was done. Wrappers and inedible parts remained as well. Nothing went into the dishwasher or the trash until the end of the day, when I took a picture of the pile.

The following week, I decided to wear my “skinny pants,” which fit in the morning and snug up as the day progresses. I resisted the temptation to wear baggies around the house or to choose the next larger size for social eating.

Both experiments were revealing. Leaving evidence in view definitely increased my awareness of cumulative consumption. Even more dramatically, fitted clothing affected my behavior in the moment. I was acutely aware of how the clothing felt, and the fit slowed my eating, enabling me to give it some thought and make a wiser choice.

An orange jumpsuit symbolizes imprisonment in our society. Perhaps that symbol has multiple layers of meaning. The lack of immediate feedback while we eat imprisons us in mindlessness, and potentially traps us in a body that can damage our health and happiness.

I don’t want to wear skinny pants every day, and I don’t want a habit of piling dishes and trash on the counter. However, I learned from the experiments. How might you use the evidence from these studies to increase your mindfulness and manage your eating more carefully?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Hanging On to Love Handles

Mom called them love handles. Others refer to midriff bulge, beer belly, or muffin tops. By whatever name, they are extra pounds around the midsection, and they stay around. I have them. Do you have them? It’s time for them to go!

Not only does the waistband bind and the “skinny” shirt bulge, but belly fat is also the most harmful kind. According to Mayo Clinic, “Excess belly fat increases your risk of cardiovascular disease, diabetes and certain types of cancers.” Love handles indeed! Mom was a master of the euphemism.

In searching for inspiration, I recently bought a book I borrowed last winter: Mindless Eating by Brian Wansink. I found it intriguing the first time; this time, I am making an extra effort to apply the principles Wansink has learned from research on eating patterns. For the next few weeks, I will share those principles so that we can explore, together, some strategies for building healthier eating habits.

One key principle in Mindless Eating is that our stomachs are poor at judging when we have had enough to eat. We rely more on signals from other parts of the body and psyche.

First, we tend to stop eating when the food is gone—and not a second before. If the bowl, box, or mug is empty we must be full (unless seconds are offered, then maybe not).

We also tend to wait until our companions have finished eating before we declare a halt to our own. On social occasions, the duration of a meal is determined by the slowest eaters. Those who eat quickly keep on eating until the meal is officially over; they do not stop when they are “full.”

Our perception is also conditioned by how much we have chewed and how often we have swallowed our food. Calorie-dense liquids are especially sneaky because they go down so easily.

Understanding the role of cues can help us develop strategies for eating less. It works for me to use small bowls and cups so that the food is "gone" sooner than it is with larger vessels. I also limit social eating, choosing to meet a friend for coffee instead of lunch. Finally, I fit crunchy foods into my daily fare because I find them satisfying to chew, regardless of calorie content. Hard rye crackers and fat-free popcorn work well.

What are the effective cues that trigger you to stop eating? What strategies help you say “enough” before it becomes “far too much?”

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

About Mindless Eating:
www.mindlesseating.org/

About belly fat:
(In women) http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/belly-fat/WO00128
(In men) http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/belly-fat/MC00054

The Rest of the Story: Past and Presence

The practice of healing Presence challenges us to spend less time in the future, and less time in the past. Last week we examined the role of future and Presence. This week we are paying our dues to the past.

The past is the story of who we are and how we got here. With advancing age, I seek to simplify my belongings. In doing so, I find that mementos from the past are the toughest to dispose of. The wrist corsage from my high school prom. The honor society certificate from college. The small-town newspaper editorial thanking me for service as a ranger. If I toss them out, won’t a small part of myself evaporate in the mist?

Not only do physical mementos exert a hold on my affection. I likewise review the memories of accomplishments, awards, and the nice things people have said. I dwell on that first kiss, earlier versions of “I love you,” “You are my best friend,” and “Good job!”

The past also intrudes in the form of regrets, mistakes, and embarrassments. Memories of unworthiness sometimes bubble up unbidden and demand their share of the airtime. Sad memories hang around asking to be undone, as if I could re-make that bad decision now, and all the consequences would go away as well.

What is the proper role of past experiences, memories, and reminders when we want to launch an optimistic future from deep grounding in the present moment?

I suggest that we begin the journey down memory lane in a spirit of gratitude. We can be thankful for both our successes and our failures and their contribution to who we are now. Second, and related, we can recall and reinforce the lessons we have learned. Life is a school in which every experience carries its message for making wiser choices today than we did yesterday.

The practice of Presence taps into all that we are, and, by implication, where we have come from. Presence tills the fertile ground from which we continue to grow. As I become more comfortable with the Present, I am more willing to prune the mementos. I look less often to past success for self-esteem. I dwell less often on past failures to keep me humble.

Take a few minutes to recall the past in a spirit of gratitude. Write quickly. List 100 memories. Give thanks for “good” and “bad” alike. Toss the list in the trash, and return to the moment. Celebrate the person you are now, and look ahead with confidence to whatever the future has in store.

Until the next time, go well.
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Vision and Goals: Future and Presence

For the last few weeks, we have been talking about goals. Goals are fun. They are motivating. They enliven our time with a sense of purpose. We also admitted that goals are a trap. They set us up for all-or-nothing thinking (we win or we lose, no matter how we played the game). Goals can also blind us to changes that call for shifting priorities. We may not notice that commitments to family are more important than running a specific race.

Today, we explore yet another challenge of living in harmony with long-term goals. That challenge is the balance of aspiring to a better future while living fully in the present.

Both spiritual and psychological traditions emphasize the present. They advocate the practice of “presence,” of attending to what is happening— in front of us, and inside of us. Spiritual writer Eckhart Tolle calls it The Power of Now. Psychologist Mikhail Csikszentmihalyi calls it Flow. Inner peace and optimal happiness arise from focus in the moment. They do not come from planning for tomorrow.

Why, then, as a proponent of psychological and spiritual well-being, do I advocate goal-setting for a happy life? I see goals not only in terms of future success. More importantly, I find that they offer a framework for living deeply in the moment. When we plan, we draw on what we experience in the now, and listen to the voice speaking from within. Our most powerful goals for the future are built upon a foundation of values that we consider most important today.

I want to be physically healthy. Why? I want to be self-sufficient. I want to work and to contribute. I want to spend my income on travel and learning, not on medical bills. I want to live a long time in my elder-unfriendly home and care for its labor-intensive yard. As a step toward those deeper values, I have set a goal of finishing half marathons in 25 states by the time I turn 70.

Goals are most powerful when they arise from deep roots in present values. They are most rewarding when they add purpose and direction to our choices in the moment. Goals detract from the Present when they shift our focus to the destination without a view of the path.

Take a look at your own vision and goals. Do they ground you more solidly in the present? Do they give you both direction and energy in the now? If not, take another look. Do they come from deep within? Listen for the voice of wisdom and, if the answer is no, try again.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Penguin and Griz: from Finish to Start

It’s over. The Grizzly Half Marathon came and went. As a Penguin, I started slow, waddled at the back of the pack, and walked the hills. I finished well. The results of my earlier fall did not re-surface, and no new injuries erupted to fill the void. I was up and about, hiking and enjoying mountains the following day. I am so grateful for a happy ending to this small drama. Thanks for coming along.

The process of setting a long-term goal, working toward it, experiencing setbacks, re-calculating, and engaging a deeper optimism has been a journey of discovery with several important lessons.

First—there is, without doubt, energy in a goal. The energy pulls us out of bed in the morning and sets a direction on the daily compass. It powers the forces of action over the resistance of inertia. I like goals.

Second—there is also a trap. A goal can trigger obsession and set us up for failure. If we define our goals too narrowly, pursue them single-mindedly, and condition our happiness on success, we can lose the broader view of happiness or crash when something gets in the way.

Third—goals are most fun when shared. Jane, Ann, and I birthed a vision of sharing the Griz a year in advance. Though we needed to re-calculate the details, we shared the experience from a distance. As time passed, through the magic of Facebook, that small buddy group expanded to become a dynamic force by the day of the run. My status update that morning said “YOU DID IT! “ You got me over the hump, over the hill, and over the finish line.

Fourth—it is good to know when to seek help. The recovery that enabled me to run so soon after injury belongs to Joyce, my massage therapist (and to Connie, who recommended her). Her strong and intuitive touch worked out the stiffness and brought my legs back to life, just in time.

So, the ending was happy. What next? A fellow Penguin at the Griz told me about “Half2Run,” an online community that aims to finish HALF marathons in HALF the states. It seems a little crazy, but…

There is energy in a goal. I love the energy, and celebrated my 64th birthday by registering with Half2Run. There is also a trap. I will not wait for the 25th state, but will savor the victory of each step along the path. I will run when I can, walk when I can’t, and learn new lessons in optimism when neither is an option.

Each ending, happy or not, opens the door to a new beginning. What does that mean for you, in your life, right now? Enjoy the energy. Avoid the trap. See a Start on the other side of Finish. And as my running hero John Bingham always says, “Waddle on my friends.”

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Life Lessons: Judging under Oath

Jury duty. No big deal. I had done it before. It means a day of sitting on hard chairs in a courtroom answering lawyers’ questions. At most, it means another DUI with an open-and-shut case.

Not this time. This, time the charge was homicide. We were instructed to clear our calendars for the rest of the week. We were asked to discern the innocence or guilt of a person who admitted to stabbing and killing a peer. Was it deliberate? Or, was it self-defense?

I have spent a lifetime learning to accept more and judge less. I buy into a world-view based on benefit of the doubt. Judge not, lest you yourself be judged. Cast out the log in your own eye before picking at the splinter in another’s . We all live in glass houses and should not throw stones.

But here I was. Sworn into duty, the duty to judge. I took a powerful lesson from this difficult charge. It was a lesson about responsibility, a chain of events, and the moment of choice.

After listening to presentations by prosecution and defense, I could understand action—even violent action—in the heat of confrontation. Nevertheless, I realized that society expects us to recognize the choices leading up to that point, and to consider the outcome when making those choices. In Montana, an aggressor cannot claim self defense when things turn south. A fatal encounter belongs to the one who takes the first step.

In our own lives, the daily choices are less imminently a matter of life or death. However, it may help to think of those choices against a more serious and dramatic backdrop. I decide on a second or third drink, knowing there is a long drive home. I like to eat, so I carry pounds that place a burden on my heart, joints, and immune system. I will find time for inner work when others no longer demand my attention. I promise to be more active when I retire, even though my dad died suddenly at 54.

Judgment has multiple meanings. It can mean that I evaluate another’s choices, and conclude that they are bad. It can also mean that I evaluate my own choices, consider the chain of events, and choose more wisely. Do you find yourself in this picture? So do I. I took an important lesson from jury duty, a lesson about personal responsibility for anticipating outcomes in the moment of choice.

It is worth learning—again (and again).

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

www.wellbuddies.com

Three Penguins Learn Optimism

The saga of the Penguin and the Griz continues. It will end before you hear from me the next time. Next Sunday is the day after the race. We will know only then what happened and what didn’t.

Nevertheless, the journey goes on. Several weeks ago, we introduced Martin Seligman’s book, Learned Optimism. We discovered that a hopeful outlook maintains our motivation and boosts our performance.

We also found that optimism is realistic. It knows that things don’t always turn out our way. If reality derails the objective, or if the cost of success is too great, the optimist confidently seeks another option.

I have written about my running buddies, Ann and Jane. We have run a number of half marathons together and have supported one another’s journey as Penguins at the back of the pack. We decided a year ago to converge on Choteau for the Griz. As reality unfolded, I was the last Penguin standing (until I fell).

Ann took a job in another state, and changed her summer running goal. Then she popped a calf muscle. She is recovering in the land of ice, ibuprofen, and cross training while she re-calculates.

Jane found that work and family commitments expanded, expanded, and expanded some more. They filled the time and overflowed. Eventually we agreed that running the Griz would yield to priorities closer to the center of importance.

Then, on one of my final training runs, I fell on a rock. I have been Googling deep muscle bruises and am seeking professional advice. The data do not reassure me about running next week. Though holding onto a thread of hope, I too am re-calculating.

This is about Buddies. We have talked about Buddies who cheer us on, helping us overcome discouragement, keeping the goal in view. The time comes when Buddies also help us deal with the need for re-evaluating our goals and setting new ones. Buddies know, perhaps even before we do, that the time has come to step back and take the longer view of success.

Who do you trust for support when you face challenges and barriers? Who will help you weigh persistence and drive against the wisdom of changing course? Who can set aside their own agenda for your success and help you find your own? Seek those people out and give them a hug, for they are Buddies of enormous value.

Until the next time go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Penguin and Griz: Recalulating

When at first you don’t succeed…what do you do next?

A goal-oriented life conveys a sense of purpose. It is motivating and energizing. It is meaningful. Such a life is also the fodder of disappointment. Circumstances do not line up as we wish. Priorities change. We dig deep and fall short.

Last week, I shared my goal of running the Grizzly Half Marathon at the end of the month. Shortly after I wrote , I fell. I fell hard. The next day, I could barely walk. I have been evaluating the damage, its effect on my training, and the chance of its standing between me and the Griz. As I write, I am optimistic. Ice and ibuprofen have worked well. I am planning a short, slow run this morning to test the system in motion. Maybe it will work.

Two weeks ago, we talked about GPS and the Voice in a Box that guides us to a programmed destination. When we miss a turn, it chants, “re-calculating.” For the past week, I have been re-calculating the route to this summer’s running success. In the process, I have experienced denial, frustration, and disappointment. I have also generated alternatives.

I have gradually resumed training. At best, I will walk more of the race than I intended at first—affirming my inner Penguin and embracing the waddle as a legitimate gait. I also found another nearby half marathon in September if my body needs more than three weeks to recover.

Goals can inspire, but they can also de-rail. The difference is found in our approach to setbacks. If we regard setbacks as dead ends, we stop and give up. We use the experience to confirm that we are not strong enough, or talented enough, or lucky enough to succeed. We lower our sights.

If we regard setbacks as mileposts , we continue on our path. We re-define success to celebrate small steps toward our goal, including those that teach us what doesn’t work. We tap our creativity to find an alternative route when the one we had started down is blocked. We re-calculate.

What goals make your life worth living? What happens when you find a barrier on the route? Have you developed the habit of sizing it up, re-defining the destination, and finding another route?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Penguin and Griz

I am a Penguin. I learned the term from John Bingham, who for many years wrote The Penguin Chronicles for Runner’s World. Penguins are “adult-onset athletes” who run slowly. We waddle. We are, nevertheless, passionate about our sport (at whatever pace).

I became addicted to running, as a Penguin, in midlife. I first trained to run 13.1 miles a decade ago. Since then, I have run at least one half marathon per year, sometimes two or three. Training begins in late winter, as I build from 60-minute runs to 90, 120, 150, 180. When I reach three hours, I am ready.

Why has this strange practice become a rite of spring for me? I love having a goal. I love the sense of being alive. I love moving smoothly and quietly through the morning, seeing and feeling the seasons change. Snow melts and puddles form, leaves turn green, and a sequence of flowers bloom along the trail. I love comparing victories and injuries, sharing support and advice with running buddies. Most of all, I love the fact that, in my 60’s, both body and spirit are willing to go the distance.

The Missoula Marathon and Half will take place tomorrow. I have volunteered to help at the finish line. I look forward to greeting my buddies. We have trained together weekly since March. I look forward to sharing their victories and celebrating the obstacles they have overcome.

As for me, I registered for the Grizzly Half in Choteau a few weeks from now. I enjoy moving around, sampling different runs in different places: Moab, Provo, Helena, Williamsburg, Leesburg, Anchorage, Deadwood, Lolo Pass, Seeley Lake. And yes, the inaugural Missoula race three years back.

Each event has its own character. My next race advertises itself in modest terms, inviting us to Run wit da Griz: "Choteau's Grizzly Marathon is pure old-fashioned marathon. No hoopla - no bands, no crowds, no fuss. It is your chance to test your mettle in a beautiful setting. Sure there might be gravel and hills but you have trained hard, you're tough!" The Griz sounds like a good place for a Penguin, running her own race, dwarfed by the Big Sky and the Rocky Mountain Front.

Do you have annual rituals that re-charge your energy and re-commit you to living each day fully? Do you have a recurring practice that reminds you who you are and who you aspire to be? Rituals can be athletic. They can be social, cultural, or spiritual. They can inspire learning, exploring, and pushing the limits of what you know and believe to be true. What works for you?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

www.wellbuddies.com

Where am I Going? How Do I Get There?

Last weekend, in far-off Tennessee, I experienced GPS. Two relatives had cars with the “Lady in a Box,” an electronic voice who told us how to reach our destination. I especially liked her response when we missed a turn or chose an alternate route: “Re-calculating…”

On reflection, I see that the Lady in a Box speaks to more than finding our motel in a strange town. She reminds me of the greater journey of searching for the person I want to be--and the choice-by-choice guidance that is needed to lead me there.

In coach training, I learned to begin with a vision. Where do I want to be a year from now? Five years? Twenty? What does optimal wellness mean to me? We often begin with the basics: physical health, fitness, appearance. Rarely do we stop there. Optimal well-being grows out of alignment with our deepest values. It includes relationships with other people. It calls for confidence that we can meet our needs, reach our goals, and find inner peace.

Developing a vision starts us on the journey. If we stop there, it is a good intention and nothing more. Realizing the vision entails choices that take us in the direction we want to go. Most choices lead toward or lead away from our ultimate destination; our inner voice of wisdom knows the difference.

I sometimes wish I had a louder and more insistent inner voice, like the Lady in a Box. I wish she would say “in 0.3 miles turn left.” It isn’t quite that clear. My personal life has a lot of “recalculating.” I eat the third piece of pizza and an ice cream chaser (it tastes so good… and makes it hard to snap my jeans). I go for a run (knowing my knee needs a day of rest). I react with sarcasm (escalating a conflict that would fade with silence). I jump into the to-do list (instead of honoring the sunrise with meditation). "Re-calculating…"

As we mature on the journey, we become more attuned to the inner voice. We make fewer mistaken turns and recover more quickly. I know that voice in my soul as the Holy Spirit—the One Who knows what to say and what to do. The more often I ask for guidance and listen for the answer, the less often I must retrace my steps and find the path anew.

How do you connect with the wisdom within? How can you tell whether you are listening to the wise voice, before it is too late and you need to re-calculate?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Equal Time for Oscar

Eeyore. Scrooge. Chicken Little. Oscar the Grouch. Who is your favorite spokesperson for the worst-case scenario? As much as we turn aside from these sad figures and reject their dismal views, we may also secretly suspect that they have a more accurate grasp on reality than their counterparts in Happy Camp.

In Learned Optimism, Martin Seligman encourages us to be healthier, happier, and more successful by learning and practicing optimism. We find that hope heals by activating the immune system. Confidence in our ability to meet a new challenge energizes us to do so. By offering the benefit of the doubt when we are hurt, we trigger compassion and connection.

Is there any drawback to seeing the silver lining of every cloud? Why are we skeptical of happy talk? Life sucks some of the time. Things don’t always turn out well. We should just fess up and admit it. That is true too, even in the book on optimism. Seligman ends with a discussion on the capacity to see life clearly and to choose the outlook best suited to the circumstances.

Optimism is no substitute for caution in high-risk situations with life-or-death implications. It does not allow us to drive impaired, bike without a helmet, or drop our insurance. Optimism does not excuse us from taking responsibility and making the effort needed to succeed. A belief in favorable results is effective because it motivates us to act. Pessimism saps our energy and prevents us from trying to improve.

Optimism calls for facing the facts: all the facts. If we are inclined to see only the evidence that supports gloom, it is important to look for facts that point to a contrary view. On the other hand, the facts may confirm that the challenge is great and the outlook is dim. In that case, optimism encourages us to respond creatively, to adapt our plans to respond to “what-is.”

We can see from these examples that optimism is not just positive thinking. It is not a superficial affirmation that everything will be fine. It is a hard-nosed look at what is and what might be. Faced with the evidence, it takes a hopeful look at our opportunities to influence the outcome and engages actively with pursuing that outcome.

Look at some of the challenges that surround you. What are the facts? What can you change? Where will you start? Set a modest goal, commit to action, and put on the rose-colored glasses.

Until the next time, go well.
Pam

www.wellbuddies.com

Seeing the Glass Differently

Pollyanna. Mary Poppins. Happy Face. Rose-colored glasses. Our culture mistrusts a person whose view is habitually tinged with hope. On the other hand, people who score high on key measures of optimism experience greater achievement, better health, more enjoyment, and less depression than those with lower scores.

We may then ask, “If our habits trend to the half-empty glass, can we turn those habits around?” Psychologist Martin Seligman holds that we can. He urges us to observe our patterns of thought, and to generate alternative ways of explaining setbacks. In the process of debating with ourselves, we can grow the habit of embracing a challenge instead of giving up on it.

Last year, I took a pre-test for my practical coaching exam. In that exam, an instructor plays the role of client and the student plays the role of coach. The examinee must demonstrate 40 interactive coaching behaviors in the course of 30 minutes. In the practice session, I froze up and fell apart.

It took me more than a month to recover from that experience. My self-talk was unequivocal. “I can’t do this.” “I’ve always failed role-playing.” “Maybe coaching isn’t my calling after all.” “My brain just blanks out under pressure.” The underlying mantra, 24-7, was, “I can’t, I’ve never… I won’t ever.”

Eventually, with time and with the support of buddies, my deepest despair began to pass. I remembered that I had learned to speak Spanish fluently. A coaching session, like a language, meant using new vocabulary and syntax in conversation. I began to piece together a plan of study, drills, and practice that was modeled on my college Spanish class. Most importantly, I stopped saying “I can’t, I’ve never…I won’t ever.” I began to think, “I can do this!” Six months later, I passed the exam with flying colors and was certified as a wellness coach.

In filling the half-empty glass, I was eventually able to debate the assumptions about my capacity to grow a new skill. I found evidence that I had, indeed, mastered a similar and difficult challenge.

Seligman tells us that, in learning optimism, Step One is to check the facts. Does our initial gloomy bias recall only the downside of past experience, neglecting important data to the contrary?

Think of examples in your own life. Name a setback. Listen to yourself explain what happened and why. Like a detective, dig deeper for the rest of the story. Like a debater, challenge the assumptions of your dark side. Re-framing the past can energize the future, increasing the likelihood of success.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

How Full is your Glass?

Last week, in recovering from an irritating cold, I shared some lessons I learned about hope, help, and healing. This week, I have continued to read Martin Seligman’s Learned Optimism, and find more of interest there to pass along.

Be patient, though. I have not yet reached the chapter on how we can turn it around if our patterns run to the dark side. I was tempted to skip ahead to find the “answers” in the back of the book before writing again. Then I decided we would take the journey in sequence. As I read, I found it helpful to understand the habits of thought behind chronic discouragement on the one hand, and a more encouraging outlook on the other. What, indeed, is the difference between Eeyore and Pooh?

Pessimists see setbacks as permanent. If I fall at that end of the spectrum, I see today’s bout of back pain as one more sign of progressive decline. “What can I expect at my age? I guess I just can’t keep doing my own yard work like I always have.” An optimist, on the other hand, would view the pain as temporary. “Yes, I have these episodes a time or two a year. They remind me to visit the chiropractor and do some gentle yoga in the mornings.”

Setbacks also register with pessimists as pervasive and characteristic. “It sucks getting old. Today it’s my back, tomorrow something else. My whole body is falling apart.” Optimists see their problems as specific and exceptional. “My back has always been tricky, but by and large my body is holding up well. As long as I eat well and stay active, I can do anything I want to.”

Finally, optimists explain setbacks as arising from external circumstances, as someone else’s fault or bad luck. Pessimists track similar experiences to their own inherent flaws; they see themselves as programmed for failure or suffering.

Now that we know more about the poles of hope and despair, how do you see yourself on the spectrum? If a hopeless pessimist rates “ 1” and the undaunted optimist is a “10, where are you”? If would like to dig deeper, see www.authentichappiness.org for a free assessment (scroll down the list of questionnaires on the Home page to the Optimism Test).

Next week, I promise to talk about “Changing from Pessimism to Optimism,” Part 3 of Seligman’s book.

Until the next time, go well

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Life Lesson: Learned Optimism

In the last issue of Reflections, when suffering from a virus, I was looking for a silver lining or a lesson to be learned from my misery. Several of each have emerged with the surge of warm and helpful responses from many of you. Buddies, friends, family, and “fans” sent good wishes and helpful advice by e-mail, blog posts, and Facebook comments. I was delighted and healed by chicken soup in so many forms.

Rest. Take care of yourself. Drink fluids. Be still. Re-assess your priorities. Stop. Curl up with a good book. Try watching this movie. Drink some more (tea, honey… whiskey!) Next time try zinc. Yes, chicken soup (thanks, Gail). Hope you feel better soon.

I drank, rested, and set aside the unimportant—which was almost everything. I also read. Scanning the shelf of treasures-in-waiting, I pulled down a book entitled Learned Optimism by Martin Seligman. The title held promise as viewed from the bottom of an emotional pit, and it was the perfect choice. Seligman is the father of “positive psychology.” He demonstrates with scientific data that happiness is good for us. And he shows how we can learn to be happier, even if we start out with gloomy genes.

Seligman attributes a certain degree of pessimism, to our inheritance. Some of us come pre-programmed to see the glass half empty. He does not stop there, thank goodness. We also learn to be pessimistic when experience tells us we cannot improve our situation. He calls that condition “learned helplessness,” and shows how it can be reversed. While ill, I felt helpless. After asking for help and receiving it, I learned a little about optimism.

One friend raised my eyebrow with the comment, “You’re always so in control of things, I never thought to offer any suggestions for dealing with your illness.” Lesson learned: ask for help. It is a gift to be able to help others. It is also a gift to let others help us. Our culture celebrates independence and self-reliance to a fault. When we insist on being self-sufficient all of the time, the network that connects us is weakened, and the instinct of our social species to reach out is squandered.

Many of you expressed hope that I would feel better soon. I did. Lesson learned: hope heals. Seligman describes how an optimistic view works within the brain to generate a chain reaction of hormones and a stronger, more aggressive immune system. On the other hand, the immune system of a person who has given up mentally may also give up physically.

How do you deal with setbacks in your life? Do you tough them out and wait for things to get better (or worry that they won’t)? Do you actively pursue options, drawing on lessons learned from past success? Do you ask for help, and accept it graciously when offered? It makes a difference. Hope heals!

Until the next time, go well

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Life Challenges: Going Viral

Lemons out of lemonade. Silver linings. Lessons learned. A reason for everything. Accept. Embrace. Celebrate. Appreciate. Transform.

I have been grasping at clichés in search of profundity all week, wrestling with my first persistent cold virus in many years. It is, on one level, trivial. It is not life threatening. It is annoying, nothing worse. But it is really annoying! I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t stay awake. I can’t sleep. Drugs that dry me out give me nightmares. I am crabby. I am self-absorbed. As much as I drip and sneeze, I am a social pariah.

OK, so what do I do with the commitment to “reflect” in public once a week, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health? I thought of bringing forward a past issue of Reflections, one that reflected a more insightful and illuminated frame of mind. On the other hand, I resist the hypocrisy of implying that I am always on top of this game. Reflections is a shared journey with buddies; not a performance for an audience.

In Reflections we see life as journey with potholes, flat tires, and white-outs. I am grateful for the thousands of miles of safe travel and thousands of healthy days I have enjoyed—and have taken for granted. I hope that this period of annoyance will heighten my appreciation of health when it returns. I want to experience a happy body for what it is—a precious gift, not an inalienable right.

In the meantime, I am napping…reading…watching old episodes of The West Wing, eating fruit for health and salt for comfort. I am humbled by the impact that a naked string of viral DNA can have on my perception of mental, emotional, and spiritual—as well as physical—well-being. And I am not straying far from my box of tissues.

What are your secrets for making the best of a bad cold? How do you deal with unexpected detours on the journey to well-being? Lacking sorely in inspiration, I look eagerly to those of you who are willing to share from your own reserves of experience and enlightment this week.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam

Midlife Makeover: Uniting and Re-uniting

A wedding is an exercise in family-building; visibly uniting two individuals, their families, and their friends and committing to long-term mutual support. A wedding is also an exercise in family-rebuilding, re-uniting family members and friends who have, in some cases, allowed time and distance to separate their lives for far too long.

Jonathan and Jennie provided the occasion for a remarkable re-union on my side of the family. Brother, niece, cousins, and best friend from college came from the points of the compass to celebrate the wedding of a nephew/cousin/second-cousin/godchild whom they had last seen in person 10 or 20 years ago (or not at all).

Family and friends from other branches of the family-and-friend tree converged on central Ohio from nearby and far away. Scotland and England. Michigan, Wisconsin, and Illinois. Massachusetts and Connecticut. Florida. California and Oregon. Tennessee and Georgia. Ohio: Cleveland, Columbus, Tiffin, Cincinnati, and Grove City. Montana.

I saw a life-lesson unfolding as so many wonderful people acted on the commitment to be present for this celebration. The connections of family and friendship last, and they grow. They endure across distance; whether we are city blocks, miles, or an ocean apart. A wedding inspires us to celebrate those connections and commit to their future. We celebrate the love and commitment of the bride and groom. We also celebrate the love of family and friends, united by a shared history and re-united for a shared future.

As we dispersed, we promised to stay in touch, to send photos, to become Facebook Friends. We invited one another to come and visit. We renewed our vows to be better siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, parents, children, and friends.

What about your family? Your friends? Does it take a wedding to remind you how important they are? Better a wedding than a funeral to bring you together. Midlife is a time for reflecting on relationships from the past and re-committing to a future that is better connected and more nurturing than ever.

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Solmates

Though I am writing this beforehand, it will be published the day after the wedding. On May 15, two lives came together, and two individuals became a pair. The process of working out the details is life-long, if we give it that long (and many of us do not).

Last summer, in a vacation gift shop, I made a wonderful discovery. I found Solmates, a brand of hand-made socks that has since become a gift for any occasion. Jonathan and Jennie recently received a pair each for their birthdays. The gifts also carried a wedding wish. Solmates are colorful. They are creatively designed. They are made of recycled cotton. They are beautiful, individually and as a pair. They do not match! They harmonize, but do not match. I find them a wonderful metaphor for marriage.

Two souls find one another in the crowd. They discover a thread of mutual attraction. They enjoy the distinct yet compatible colors and patterns that emerge as they recount separate histories and dreams. With time, they collaborate in knitting new patterns and shapes, entwining experiences, thoughts, visions, and plans for a future together.

I have been writing in recent weeks about the growth of parent and child from birth toward independence. Independence is not, however, the end of the story. In exploring life’s full potential, many of us seek and find a mate. In so doing, we exchange some of our autonomy for togetherness. In midlife--the middle of living as individuals--we make ourselves over to match with another.

Like Solmates, the resulting pair is lovely. It is also functional, as two individuals fulfill a purpose together that neither can fulfill alone. Like Solmates, the individuals remain different while building a life in common as a pair. Happiness over the long term calls for honoring and celebrating the differences while seeking to knit with compatible colors and patterns.

Think about your partners in life...spouse, family, friends, workmates. Enjoy the differences and enhance the harmony that can result with a “mismatched pair.”

Take a look and enjoy! http://www.socklady.com/

Until the next time, go well. Pam

www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Partners in Parenting

There are so many bad jokes about in-laws. It’s scary. When Jonathan proposed to Jennie in October, we were delighted. It was not a surprise: We had helped him shop for and finance “the ring” earlier that month.

A few days later, a lovely note appeared in the mailbox. Jim and Mari wrote, graciously honoring the occasion and welcoming Jonathan into their lives for the long term. I was ready for Jennie. I had not yet expanded my view to appreciate that we were now part of a larger and more complicated web. I wrote back, feeling a little behind-the-curve in doing so.

December came, and Mari called (bless her heart). She invited me to begin the discussion of wedding dates, places, and plans. With this kind and welcoming gesture, she brought me to my senses. I finally realized that it was time for us to do something. As I often do with challenges these days, I pulled up “Google” and searched “role parents groom.” Results featured one prominent phrase: “Show up, shut up, and wear beige.”

That has, apparently, been traditional advice for the MOG (portrayed in the literature as a lowly subordinate to the MOB). I then wrote Mari a long e-mail, asking in so many words whether that was the role she expected from me. Her humorous reply initiated a wonderful friendship that I expect to enjoy forever.

Lyle and I are so lucky! Not only do we love Jennie, but we are also having fun getting to know her folks. Mari and I e-mail most days and have broadened our sharing beyond wedding plans. We share many values and interests, laugh together, and tend to be “detail-oriented” in a way that is both helpful and annoying to those around us. We are also learning from our differences and from one another’s experiences.

It is a big deal to share your child with someone else’s child. It’s an even bigger deal when two families embark on a shared future. Our perceptions, values, priorities, and behaviors as parents will now affect one another through the happiness of our children. There is no greater gift to our children (or ourselves) than to build a partnership in parenting that honors and celebrates similarities and differences in building a bigger and better whole.

How does your expanded family—by birth, by choice, by the choices of others—enrich your life?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Balance and the Heart

Last week, I reflected on the personal significance of April 26. This week I anticipate the new meaning of May 15. It is all about transitions, balance, and the heart.

Emotional balance calls for weighing connection against autonomy. That balance is a challenge we face in friendship, on teams, and in families. What does it mean to be in relationship? How much do I ask that you change to please me, and how much do I change to accommodate you? What are the tipping points between dependence, independence, and interdependence? How does one achieve intimacy while retaining identity?

Parenting presents a particular challenge for us in seeking emotional balance. Our babies start out as a part of us. They spend the rest of their lives becoming separate. Our roles are to nurture and protect while enabling growth. To embrace and hold close while pushing out the door. There is no single point of balance; the scales are always in motion.

There are, however, milestones: The first day of kindergarten. First sleep-over. First date. Driver’s License. College. Study abroad. Graduation. First Form 1040 with “dependent” unchecked. OK, that’s about April 15.

I was talking about May 15. Jonathan and Jennie are marrying that day. Talk about milestones! From that day forward, “home” clearly has a different address for them. Next of kin, likewise. Their relationship has been incubating for two years, and the shift has been taking place over time. We celebrate the experience of seeing our only son find lasting love. We look forward to broadening our own family picture to include Jennie, her parents, her sister, and more.

On the other hand, the unique bond of emotional attachment that began with conception is stretched by this decisive occasion. It stretches to include Jennie and it stretches to allow Jonathan to become even more himself, apart from us. As it should be.

But tears form. As they should.

It is midlife; the middle of living. What does this time in life ask of your emotions? Are you passing milestones that call for more or less intimacy, more or less autonomy? Where does holding close interact with letting go in a new and important way?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Giving Birth

Tomorrow, April 26, is a big day on the calendar for me. On that date in 1984, our son Jonathan arrived in the world. On the same date in 2009, the first issue of Reflections was published. Both experiences represent a birth. In giving birth, we bring from deep within the fruits of who we are and how we connect with the world.

A newborn is the culmination of two lifetimes by people who connect with one another. On the way to physical birth, we draw from our core genetic identities and nurture a child growing within. During pregnancy, we share the caring and feeding normally intended for ourselves alone. The sharing by parents with their new child is an outgrowth of their combined health and well-being, love and generosity, patience, and faith in the future.

I find that writing has much in common with childbirth on those many levels. Each week in sitting down with the laptop, I draw on the experience of a lifetime. I reflect on deep and rich connections with other people, daily experience, reading, and listening to the inner Spirit. In offering these words, I expand the scope of personal reflections and make them available to others. I hope to share from the store of health and well-being, love, generosity, patience, and faith in the future with which I have been entrusted.

Kahlil Gibran writes in The Prophet:

"Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.”

My writing is not my writing. My thoughts are not my thoughts. They come through me but not from me.

Each of us is continuously giving birth. We bring forth the depth, experience, and connections of a lifetime, and offer them to others in our words and deeds.

How do you see this process at work in your own life? Who are the children of midlife for you? What is Life asking that you pass along for the benefit of all?

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Balance and the Mind

We know a lot about the body. We are much less certain about the mind. What is this strange creature that observes itself thinking, feeling, and acting? Is it all in the brain? In the hormones? In the ether? All of the above? Does it matter?

I have a new favorite book: Buddha’s Brain, by Rick Hanson and Richard Mendius. The authors combine their training in neurology, neuropsychology, and personal meditation practice to bring fresh perspective to the question of mind.

We know that the brain drives our behavior; we are less aware that behavior can change the brain. Neural pathways that generate perceptions and desires are strengthened by repeated use. The brain is more inclined to choose food if we habitually overeat. It goes to straight to anger if we do so often. It opens to optimism if we practice seeing the glass half full.

Balancing the mind calls for an optimal combination of stimulation and focus. Evolution has favored brains that constantly scan the environment for threats. Those who remained alert, watching and listening for predators, survived; those who slept soundly or focused on one task at a time were eaten. This primitive bias is an advantage when driving on a freeway. It is a liability when writing an article, completing the project at hand, or listening to a troubled friend.

As humans we can watch ourselves as we think, choose and act. We can use our observations to build new habits over time. Which patterns will we reinforce and which ones will we seek to weaken? What is the best personal balance between stimulation and calm for each of us? Do we want more capacity for focus, or less inclination to boredom? Do we want to act more quickly, or to look longer before we leap? Neither end of the spectrum meets all our needs, and each of us seeks a different tipping point.

Hanson proposes that, in today’s environment, we often wish for more calm and focus than we currently manage. I find that is true for me. How about you? Buddha’s Brain explores the practice of meditation, training the brain to be less reactive and more at peace. Try it out!

Until the next time, go well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: What is Midlife Anyway?

I love transitions. They have a unique energy for me.

Over a long career with many moves, I always looked forward to a new job, a new house, and new surroundings. I also enjoyed the opportunity to walk away from some unresolved issues, to leave unwanted baggage at the thrift store with the old couch, and to set aside patterns of thought and behavior that were not serving me well.

I loved the endings and beginnings. I still do.

In my new role as a wellness coach, I enjoy supporting others as they navigate from one life stage to another. I find myself describing the process of transition as a “midlife makeover. “ When I recently decided to offer a class through the local adult education program, I called it “Midlife Makeover: Health and Life Balance after 50.”

The tagline referring to age generated interesting reactions, especially among those in my circle who do not yet qualify for AARP. Those responses have triggered me to re-think the concept of "midlife." Is it really about being 50? Is it the mathematical midpoint between birth and our best guess of a lifespan? Is it over the hill? Let’s consider a different view.

Midlife: "in the midst of living." Carried along by the flow of our lives, whitewater and calm water alike. In motion. Work in progress. Letting go and reaching forward. Tapping energy. Seeing with fresh eyes. Fully engaged. Re-booting our systems. Thinking and feeling more clearly. Recycling.

What does midlife mean for you? How would you portray this time in your life as an opportunity for re-making choices, keeping those that work well and discarding the rest?

I am looking for a different and more expansive tagline. Help!

Until the next time, go well.


Pam
www.wellbuddies.com

Midlife Makeover: Balance and the Soul

I find it meaningful to think of life balance in terms of body, heart, mind, and soul. Physical well-being provides a foundation; emotional health connects us with others; mental clarity enables us to focus; spiritual energy guides us toward the purpose and value of our lives. I usually take them in order, ending with the soul. This is, however, a holy week on the Christian calendar. It is a week for reflecting on our deepest insights about the meaning and importance of life.

Midlife can be a time of spiritual transition and expansion into new ways of seeing. We typically start out in life by defining success in terms of roles. As students, we strive for good grades, social popularity, and athletic achievement. As workers, we pursue income and benefits, promotion, responsibility, and recognition. In family roles, we value the health and happiness of partners and children, siblings and parents. We also play roles as volunteers, as learners, as leaders, as activists—each with its own standard of success.

The time comes, however, when we ask: What is the purpose behind the purpose? We look deeper: What does it mean to be happy? We find that inner peace arises from accepting what is, not from getting our way. Unconditional love brings more happiness than forcing others to meet our needs. We stop to enjoy the beauty of a sunset…or to listen, really listen to a loved one, without debating the validity of their viewpoint or reacting from the depths of self-interest.

We spend our lives building a self-concept out of successes and failures—at work, at home, on the athletic field, in the classroom. We are good musicians and terrible cooks, great hostesses, abysmal skiers, and the list gets longer with the years. In midlife we may seek to shed that list and to raise our sense of self and life purpose to a higher level: We live. We love. We enjoy. We accept. We appreciate. We are present.

Check out the following link to an article about the mother of my friend Bridget. Her lifelong journey toward meaning is an inspiration. www.jsonline.com/news/milwaukee/84283712.html

Until the next time, go well.


Pam
www.wellbuddies.com