"Dwell in Possibilities"

I have a sign on my wall that says, “Dwell in Possibilities.” I have been sitting here contemplating that phrase, mostly because it is my line of vision.  I made the mistake of posting it behind our front door above our key rack, and I rarely look at it, but this morning my vision aligned and I read it less superficially than usual.  What does it mean...really?  I find it not coincidental that in the middle of the lesson I am learning about waiting and expectation, I am drawn to a sign that has been posted in the same spot for a year.  

One interesting thing about the phrase is that it was coined by Emily Dickinson who suffered from mental illness most of her adult life.  In my more volatile times, I found her poetry consoling, because the cleaving of the mind she spoke of in her poem The Lost Thought was exactly my experience.  Cleaving, as you may well know, means to split apart, and I have felt that to be my experience so often, as one part of my mind would separate from the other and go rogue.  It was Emily’s work that inspired me to start writing.  My early writings, before medication stabilized me, are vivid sketches of the internal workings of a mental instability.  They are the equivalent of vivid crayons being ground into a canvas. In fact, I cannot handle Van Gogh’s paintings, because when I look at them I can see the insanity in them, the frantic need to pile paint on top of itself for texture, with vivid color and frenetic lines; an assault on the senses.  My early writings are an assault on the senses as well, with every word throwing a massive punch at the reader, vivid, texture ridden, desperate to be identified with.  Whenever I look at Van Gogh’s work, I feel I am crawling into the painting and into his head where desperation and despair put forth a cacophony of artistic expression.  I too well identify with his ravaged mind.

So, Emily writes a phrase that is imbued with hope, and I have to wonder whether it was moment in her depression ravaged mind, or if somehow, she managed to hang onto the phrase through all the rise and fall of her mood disorder?  I confess, I do not dwell in possibilities.  Sometimes I dwell on them.  I think about what could happen, but there is no mindset involved.  I think, however, that it is one I would like to develop.  I should choose to think, steep in, and hover indefinitely in what is possible for my life.  This is not a natural thing for me.  I am not a glass half empty or a glass half full person.  I am a, “there is  a glass with liquid in it” kind of person, so choosing to spend a great deal of time pondering what is possible, literally putting on what is possible like a wet suit is not going to be easy, but I plan to give it a whirl.

I believe that as we get older it becomes more difficult to change and to adapt.  Flexibility tends to be a trait of the young, both physically and mentally, and I don’t believe it should be that way.  The human brain has to continue to be challenged by learning curves as we get older.  That is one way in which to holds off dementia for the brain and bitterness for the spirit.  So, this morning as I was sitting here looking at that little sign on my wall, I decided that there is nothing wrong with choosing to look at what is possible. If Emily could think it, I can implement it.  After all, she spent a majority of her adult life in her bedroom, unable to explore the world, so I have to infer that her imagination enabled her to write such a phrase; even if she could only dwell and never really implement. 

I, on the other hand can not only dwell in possibilities, but I can enact processes for those possibilities, and yes, that also includes waiting on them.  I wonder how many chances to grow and go beyond our wildest dreams we miss because we simply do not choose to think about what is possible?  A balloon soars when it is not tethered.  Now, it may not go far, or it may go to great heights, depending on many condition, but we tend to think that what is inside it determines its ability to move.  If the balloon has been filled with helium, it is much more likely to take off than if it was blown up by a mere mortal.  But sometimes even that balloon that does not have helium inside it is picked up by a great wind and taken beyond its limitations.  So, maybe it does not matter what we are made of.  Maybe much of what we become is determined by the winds that blow through our lives.  If that is the case, it is prudent to dwell in possibilities, because then, everybody has the potential to soar. 

Hmm.  But then what is the difference between dwelling in and dwelling on?  Personally, I feel there is a greater level of commitment to be in something rather than on it.  So, if I am truly committing to this whole ideology, then I will have to become immersed.  At this point I’m not sure what the means or looks like for me.  Maybe it is more about being real time in our hopes and dreams.  Maybe it is not being so passive about what we desire for ourselves.  Maybe dwelling in means to actively participate in that which we think possible for our lives.  

I watched a show the other night where the people needed to catch eels for supper.  At first the people involved were tentatively standing on the edge of the water.  Then they carefully stepped in and made noncommittal movements to catch some of the eels.  But it wasn’t until they moved to the middle of the pond and aggressively committed to catching the eels that they actually did it.  Their hunger got the better of their squeamishness, awkwardness, and feeling that they could not do it.

I think that is what I need.  I think that is what it is to dwell in rather than on possibilities.  I have to stand in the middle of the stream, cast off all that I think will hinder me, and choose to aggressively envision what I hunger for, for my life.  

Here’s hoping,

L

Fighting Lions

Benaiah was a hero during the time of King David and was one of his mighty men.  One snowy day, Benaiah killed a lion in a pit.  He fought that lion to the death.  Now, I am not a proponent of killing lions; please do not misunderstand...But this man did not have a gun, so whatever he did in combat with that cat required close contact.  Think of that...

So, in reading about Benaiah, I was thinking of all the lions in my life and how many of them I have fought to the death and how many of them are roaming around in my life, making noise and wreaking havoc.  Franklin ( 2009) uses this quote, “Courage is fear that has said its prayers”.   I like it.

 

These stats are undoubtedly biased, but they seem plausible and I find the idea disturbing. 40% of what we worry about never happens, 30% of what we worry about are things that are in the past and cannot be changed, 12% of what we worry about is not even our business but someone else’s, 10% of what we worry about relates to poor health both imagined and real, and only 8% of what we worry about is actually most likely to happen (Franklin, 2009).  I find that pathetic when I apply it to my own life, because it is pretty close to my worry mentality.  

So what do you worry about?  And did you know that worry is really fear?  The more I worry, the more I spend my life bound by fear.  I am not walking in freedom.  No wonder I struggle with being content and find longer periods of time elapse between moments of laughter.  

To begin to stop the cycle I have to go back to what I know about myself and what I know about Abba.  If you do not have a developed spiritual life, I don’t know what to tell you about conquering worry and its parent, fear.  I see no way in my own finite humanity to banish to lions of fear and worry in my life.  Indeed, I have tried on my own, and the more I do the more they multiply so that I no longer have a couple of lions in my theoretical back yard...I have a pride.

I know that I am a perfectionist, a person of action, and a problem-solver.  These qualities seem well and good until they are pitted against worry.  Worry stems from fear, and fear stems from something I have little or no power over that is invading my living space.  None of the things I know about myself are weapons that can permanently banish the lions, because so often my fears stem from my inability to do anything, so solve anything, and my perfectionism becomes a point of stress.

So I go back to what I know about Abba.  I know that he is at the bottom of my conundrum.  I know that because I have experienced and confirmed in the past that he is there.  I know that he does not want me to be afraid and trapped in a life of worry that disheartens and disillusions me.  I know that because even my human loved ones do not want that for me, and he is much more capable of loving me beyond my flaws than they are.  I know this, because I have experienced it.  

Many years ago the following popped into my life, and it has had a profound impact on me in times of fear...when I meditate on it, which I generally hit the worry button first before going to what is promised me...

Fear not; for I am with you;

Be not dismayed, for I am your Abba;

I will strengthen you,

Yes I will help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

My worry about finances, a career path that fulfills me and sustains my mental health, my fears about my husband being too overloaded, etc., are lions that are making messes in my back yard, keeping me trapped in my house, rather than out living life.  For when you are trapped by fear, you are not living.  You are not even coping; not really.  Even the person who can tread water for the longest time eventually will weary and drown.  

I also believe these lions of fear are what keeps us from being able to embrace change.  We become conditioned to immediately see all that can go wrong and are terrified of it.  People are more willing to stay in unhealthy relationships because of their fear of the unknown.  They would actually stay with being beaten down and beaten up because it is familiar than step out into the unknown.  How very tragic.  And pathetic.  I have done it.

I am beginning to deal with the lions in my back yard.  I am starting with simply acknowledging them for what they are.  I ask, “What am I worrying about?”  Then I ask, “What am I afraid of that is making me worry?”  Then I have to choose to go one direction or another.  I can choose to stay trapped by worry, or I can begin to change things.  To do that I am beginning by saying, “I have little faith in anything, but I have a little faith in you Abba, and I know it is faith enough to move me out of my house and into slaying these lions.”  My head may be unsure.  My heart may even be uncertain, but I am proclaiming what I choose to believe and I am moving into what I want for my life.  It is a daily, often moment to moment, process, but I have to make it.  I want quality life.  Worry, stress, and fear are all lions I refuse to keep in my back yard.

L

Franklin, J.  (2009).  Fear fighters.  Lake Mary, Florida:  Charisma House.

Comfort

This is supposed to be manic season for me.  Now, I do not have the extreme manias of bipolar 1, but I have hypo-manias, and after spending 8 months out of the year clinically depressed, with or without medication, I look forward to my little manias.  Now, let me clarify here by saying that I am on medication and have been for 20 years, but contrary to popular belief, I still experience depression and mania just not enough to unbalance my life...for the most part. 

So, I look forward to my little manias, because I tend to have a lot of energy and get lots accomplished during that time and am much more extroverted than usual.  But this year I have been robbed!  No mania.  I’m tired, reclusive, scattered, easily frustrated, and often despondent; all manifestations of depression not mania.  Mania medicated is the one perk I get with this mess, and I’m not happy about this change in the program.

I think there is a perfect storm in play here; surgery, stress, the change in professional output, and others things I am not at liberty to confess here.  I can rationalize that perfectly well, but I am still not happy with the result, and I am concerned that I am heading back down into the bell jar in a couple of months and will not have had my little mental vacation.  

Even so, I push on, because that is sometimes what has to be done, and sometimes that energy expended to keep going robs you of your time for other things. Fatigue is an output of this endless requirement I have placed on my mind, and as a result, I am having panic attacks again.  My brain just does not have the stamina to maintain the anxiety.  

As I am sitting here typing this pathetic little story of mine, I am reminded of three words; comfort, grace, and hope.  If you read my blogs regularly you know I have pontificated about hope and grace a lot.  They are the words that draw me away from myself and deeper into what saves me every day.  My study and contemplation of hope and grace have taught me more about my spiritual walk than anything else.  Comfort is a new one, but rather than seeking to define it, I am looking to speak its language. 

Reptile Gardens here in Rapid City is one of my favorite places to go.  When we went there this spring, I went to see the kookaburra sitting in his little tree.  Everyone was trying to get him to do his funny little laugh by whistling and calling.  I read the little commentary on him and realized he responds to monkey calls.  So I sucked up my pride and began to talk like a monkey.  He turned on his little perch, cocked his head, listened for a moment and then let out his very unique sound.  I was thrilled to death.  It was the highlight of the day for me.

Comfort is like that kookaburra.  I cannot expect to get it to speak to me by hooting and hollering my distrust and skepticism at it.  I have to speak the language of comfort to receive comfort.  What I am discovering, much like that monkey call, I have to be willing to step away from my pride (because cynicism is really pride in knowing that nothing will work out), and choose to call out surrender and willingness.  

I think that the comfort I seek right now, no human can provide.  I am in need of the kind of comfort that only Abba can provide, and my spiritual walk is taking me through a time of learning how to speak comfort into my own life and accept it.   I am not there yet, but I know I’m headed in the right direction.

I read on my FaceBook page about a lot of my friends who are struggling with change and obstacles.  We could say that is part and parcel with life, but does it really help to minimize it down to “the journey” when you are in the throes of storms that will not give you a break?  I think one of the reasons I wrote my doctoral dissertation on change was because I struggle so much with it on a personal level, and I know I am not alone in that.  Change is good for us, but when it is thrust upon us through trauma, it is never comfortable, and comfort is a foreign concept.

I won’t offer anything glib here to tie off this post.  I have no answers, just thoughts, and often they are not worth much to me much less someone else, but I offer that I think you have to choose to look for that which can help.  I know in my personal experience that when I am experiencing what I am going through right now I have become very particular to put positive, healthy sensory experiences into my memory banks.  I have no real aesthetic sense of beauty at the moment, but that does not mean I cannot see it, and as long as I find a way to fill my tank with that which edifies, I will have access when I once again begin to be able to appreciate beauty, laugh, and even be happy on occasion.  I am a woman blessed beyond measure, and I know that.  Whether the chemicals in my brain are making an attempt to sabotage, I will continue to endure, and I will have comfort.

L   

Thinking Outside the Box: PTSD, Panic Attacks, and Social Phobia

Anxiety disorders are becoming more heard of in our culture.  That, I think, is both good and bad.  More and more people seem to be dealing with social phobia, PTSD, and many other facets of anxiety that tend to produce physical manifestations such as panic attacks and emotional problems such as withdrawal, depression, anger, fear, aggression, and paranoia.  I have loved ones dealing with PTSD, and I am actually glad I have a social phobia, because it prompted me to do research on ways to cope which overlap into the PTSD arena.  I have been able to help my loved ones dealing with PTSD in learning how to cope a bit.  

Now let me pre-empt this post by saying I do not practice therapy in the area of anxiety disorders.  I have combined what I know has worked for me with research I have done in professional journals and with friends who do practice working with PTSD, so don’t assume by any stretch that I am saying I have the answers.  I’m just going to share what I know.  If you deal with social phobias, these things might help.  

The problem with our military health care system is that it is abysmal in its ability to effectively treat PTSD.  Much of what is done involves a debriefing that in no way is extensive enough to equip an individual to re-enter society, and there is medication.  That is not to say there are no other services available.  But the standard, from what I have been told, is as I referenced. 

 

Because of recent events with shootings that have occurred and the push to monitor those with mental health issues, I would not encourage one of my near and dear to get themselves documented into the system.  It is just not safe for their individual rights, and I don’t see that changing.  But, I do work with my loved ones who are dealing with extreme anxiety to help them conquer it.  I have managed to take control of agoraphobia which is extreme and debilitating, so I am encouraging others in this realm.

Everyone is different, but basic principles can be applied no matter the person or issue.  So, the first thing is to acknowledge to someone what you have.  This should be someone or a few someones you can trust.  It is very stressful to try to hide something so debilitating, and a good support system is important to have, especially for accountability, which leads us into the next principle.

For PTSD:  When having a flashback, it is good to tell someone you trust that it is happening.  It is even better to describe it if you can make your self do it.  Many cannot do that last part, so telling someone you are having a flashback is a good start.  Here is how I interpret PTSD.  The mind experiences something it cannot fathom, something traumatizing.  As a result, the brain is not able to take that event and shift it over to memory.  The brain has not been told that that particular experience has been seen and is now a memory, so whenever it comes up, the brain automatically thinks it is in real time, happening for the first time.  It has no way to comprehend cognitively that it is a memory.  The brain automatically prepares the body to fight or flee and the physical manifestations include racing heart, sweating, heightened senses, and major adrenaline upload accompanied by fear, paranoia, and panic.  What I have seen is that by saying out loud that a flashback is occurring, there begins to be a reconnection with reality.  

Now some people have PTSD but do not have images flashing.  They may be triggered by sound or smell.  But regardless, the adrenaline systems kicks in and the fight or flight response is engaged.  When this happens and there are no flashbacks, telling someone what has triggered you and that you are experience symptoms (heart racing, sweating, paranoia, etc...) will also help bridge the gap between reality and memory.  Sometimes in this case, distraction works.  Pulling that person away to a different event and location sometimes helps.  

I read a study recently put out by Harvard that found that PTSD is a major cause of insomnia.  People with PTSD often have nightmares and that causes inability to sleep, short spurts of sleep, and twitching and thrashing whilst sleeping.  Many turn to alcohol to help get them to sleep, but the problem with that is that alcohol impacts the brain and its ability to have health productive sleep.  The body and brain are saturated with something it recognizes as poison (the body cannot process alcohol), so it spends those hours of sleep working frantically to rid the body of the toxin, and the brain is stripped of ability to have control and often flashbacks and nightmares in sleep become more frequent.

For panic attacks and social phobias including agoraphobia:  Over-stimulation is the bane of the social anxiety disorder.  Too much visual, auditory, and olfactory input can trigger panic attacks.  Often it is the physical space that triggers, and sometimes the anxiety of being social triggers a panic attack.  So, the first order of business is to recognize you are having a panic attack.  Then get out of wherever it is that has triggered you.  There is medication that helps that isn’t narcotic in nature, but there has to be some cognitive management as well.  So recognize what is going on, get out of the place that is triggering you, and finally, give yourself permission to have a panic attack.  So often panic attacks are exacerbated by trying to stifle them or prevent them.  This just adds more stress.  Tell yourself you are going to have a panic attack and you are going to enjoy it!  (Just kidding J)  But, honestly, give yourself permission to have a little freak out.

What I have noticed is that anxiety disorders take time to overcome, even with medication.  It’s a matter of reformatting the brain and then adding the repetition to cement the reframe.  I have mentioned reframing before, but just to refresh here; reframing is taking an overwhelming thought or situation and narrowing it down.  Here is an example:  I hate everything about Wal-Mart.  It stresses me out.  The lights are yellow.  I’m visually over stimulated.  I have to wait out in the open in line which freaks me out.  There are too many people, and the place smells.  

Cognitive reframe:  I hate Wal-Mart, but I like the prices.  I do not have to go there if I do not want to.  It’s okay if I choose to go somewhere else.  It is my choice, and if I do decide to go, I can just get a few things and get out of there as soon as I start to feel the environment triggering me.  I do not have to stay there until all my shopping is completed.  

Simple, huh?  Well to the anxiety ridden individual who wants most in life to not have another panic attack...ever, it is very difficult to do a reframe.  It’s logical, but the brain is not logical when a sense of threat is present.  So it takes practice.  

These are little things, but with repetition, they will start to help a bit.  In my experience and in watching my loved ones with PTSD, it’s a  very slow process to conquering anxiety, but you have to give yourself some grace even if no one else will.  And you have to be willing to think outside of the box, because right now, in the treatment of major anxiety disorders, the box is just too small. 

Blessings

L