Ponderings of the culturally curious

I'm not sure why, but culture has long fascinated me. My earliest (or at least, most significant) memories related to cultural curiosity: Playing at a friend's house (on several occasions) when I was 9 or 10 years old. My friend Annette and her family were Puerto Rican. Though Annette spoke English, her family members spoke in thick Spanish accents. As I didn't know Spanish, I heard words but had no idea what they were saying to each other. I was curious to know. Were they saying anything they wanted in front of me knowing I wouldn't have a clue what they were saying? Or was it much more mundane conversation than I conjured up in my imagination? All I knew is that I wanted to decipher their foreign language, which in my mind was a barrier to my understanding. Yet it was also fun for me, as I found myself watching their body language for clues on what they might be saying to each other...or at least how they were saying it. I guess you could say this sparked the beginning of my curiosity to learn, to explore, to understand people from different cultural backgrounds. Sometimes I even wish I were of a different race or from a different culture....to wear different clothes, to have different colored skin and hair, to speak another language, to eat different foods, to have different values, rituals, traditions. Even a different daily routine. There's nothing all that fascinating about being a white woman from the US, at least culturally speaking...

This past week I've been thinking alot about culture and how much different one's life could be submerged in one culture versus another. A repressive culture. A liberating and open-minded culture. An oppressive or dangerous culture. A misogynist culture. A culture of violence. A culture of capitalism. A culture off the grid. So many alternate identities we'd have. Are we any less strong, brave, free-spirited, open-minded, or obedient in each different cultural environment?

If I were living in the Middle East amidst 'the morality police' that punishes women for things like revealing their ankles, would I submit to obedience out of fear or would I be bold and subversive no matter the cost? And at the same time, am I making biased negative or positive assumptions about culture due to inaccurate knowledge? I'm thirsty for knowledge. I thought my mind was wide open before, but I'm realizing how little I know even for someone who is probably more educated and well-read than the average American. Truly humbling and oddly refreshing to realize there are mysteries in life which I may never be aware or be able to grasp in understanding. Keeps life always juicy and 'new' in a way.

Iran and Palestine have been at the forefront of my mind as far as a few clients I work with that are from those regions, as this is the first time I have worked with anyone from the culture of the Middle East. Listening to their experiences and the impact of culture on their experiences has been eye opening, as well as inspiring. I find myself having feelings all across the board for them....sadness, anger, compassion, admiration, inspiration, and hopefulness.

 Interestingly, I also watched a movie this week called "Circumstance'  (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1684628/) that examines issues of cultural influence. The film takes place in Tehran and centers on the forbidden love of two teenage girls that struggle between being true to themselves amidst an oppressive misogynistic culture. We can say we would do this, that, or the other "If I were in that situation....," but how do we know what we would truly do? If only there were alternate realities/universes to find out. Then again, that would ruin the juicy mystery...

Going my own Way

(Photo taken by me, near the Arboretum, Sept. 2011)

For my senior year high school English class, students were required to pick a novel of their choice and then write an analysis paper about it. While I can't recall the various book selections we were given as examples to choose from, I do remember thinking that I did not want to choose a book that everyone else would pick or one that I knew too much about....though if you asked me at the time, I doubt I'd be able to articulate why. As I scanned the page, few options stood out in my mind. Or rather one in particular. My eyes curiously wandered to Herman Hesse's "Siddhartha." "What is this about?" I thought. And so began my discovery of Buddhism and more so, the beginning of my own self-discovery.

I suppose I had started going my own way prior to reading "Siddhartha" senior year, though it wasn't until that moment that it was brought to my awareness that my path in life has always been different than 'everyone else.' And for the first time I realized this was a good thing. It comforted me, inspired me, and pushed me forward. Suddenly being different and apart from the crowd was a strength, a sign of growth and the embodiment of genuine enlightenment.Western religion has never done that for me. Ever.

When times get tough and the road feels lonely, I find myself going back to Eastern philosophy time and again. Buddhism. The Tao Te Ching. The works of the spiritual mystic Osho. The wisdom, compassion, and non-judgmental encouragement of finding one's own way pours into me and through me. The paradox is actually quite hilarious when I think about it, at least for me. So many fearful people blindly following a religious path that really isn't their own, just words of everyone else because...it's easier?! But it's not. The same individuals are fearful of having their own unique perceptions and feelings, especially what choices to make with them. The last thing they want to do is think about them, yet going your own Way is the first step on the path to understanding, freedom, and growth.

Recently, a friend of mine kindly and unexpectedly mailed a book to me. "Path of Compassion: Stories from the Buddha's Life." I'm slowly savoring each chapter like a child comforted by nightly bedtime stories. I feel both alone and not alone reading the courageous journey of Siddhartha, boldly embracing the judgments of loved ones and strangers alike. Most of all, I'm comforted and inspired by his letting go of external pressures of what they want him to say or do (ie, their own agenda) in favor of going his own way...not only for himself, but also for the greater good.

And with this, I am reminded (again) to continue...going my own way.

Feel first...rationalize later?

I thought it only fair to rave about a book that blew my mind out of the water after having written about one that did little to move me (see last blog entry).

At first glance, this book looked interesting...but I had no idea it would enthrall my intellect as much as it did, particularly in the second and third parts of the book. Ever wonder where our perceptions of "right" and "wrong" come from...really come from? Ever wonder why individuals lean a particular way in regards to politics and religion, specifically the qualities an individual values depending on whether Liberal or Conservative, religious vs. atheist?

This book succinctly explains the foundations of what is known as moral psychology. As an avid reader and someone whom reads a wide range of books on the psychology genre, I was excited to read something original and thought provoking.

What I appreciate most about the book is that it is written from a place of scientific inquiry and curiosity. With an open-minded attitude, Jonathan Haidt takes readers of all walks of life (Liberal, Conservative, religious, and non-religious alike) on a journey to challenge notions of both their own and others' beliefs. Kudos, Haidt. I didn't think that was possible. Haha! In a society inundated with negativity and judgment, "The Righteous Mind" is a breath of fresh air. It pushes aside the emotions and lures in the reader to utilize critical thinking....interestingly, the opposite of what Haidt suggests we humans normally do (ie, "Intuitions Come First, Strategic Reasoning Second").

When asked why something is wrong, people typically respond from their emotional reactions ("I don't know why it's wrong...it just is") and struggle to give logical arguments. Something may be repulsive or disgust you, but is it necessarily wrong? What makes it so? Haidt explains in detail how our minds are comprised of 'riders' and 'elephants' that dictate the intricate complexities of moral psychology. Fascinating!

The chapter on "The Moral Foundations of Politics" gave me many "aha!" moments, things I have wondered about for years and made absolute sense after reading the psychological reasoning/analysis behind liberal vs. conservative mindsets. Haidt discusses the foundations of Care/Harm, Fairness/Cheating, Loyalty/Betrayal, Authority/Subversion, and Sanctity/Degradation. Similarly, "The Hive Switch," "Religion is a Team Sport," and "Can't We All Disagree More Constructively?" provided much food for thought.

 Every American could benefit from reading this book, especially politicians themselves. Just thinking about the paradigm shift that could happen if the majority of this country read this book is blowing my mind. In short, if this book doesn't blow your mind I might think there is something wrong with you. Just kidding.

Fifty Shades of Bad Writing

At the recommendation of a friend, I reluctantly decided to read the new "erotic romance" novel Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James. I say 'reluctantly' because I noticed very polarized reviews from readers on GoodReads. People either seemed to give it 4-5 stars, or 1-2 stars. Based on the reviews and knowing what books or genres I tend to like the most, I was predicting it would be a 3 star read for me. It certainly started out that way in the beginning...but not in the end.

The author introduces us to the main characters Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey, two individuals who couldn't be any different from each other...the whole "opposites attract" scenario. But whatever, I'll go with it. I liked that it was set in Seattle, though the only place really mentioned was the touristy area of Pike Place Market and occasional drives on the infamous interstate 5. Apparently the author lives in London, so I'll give her a bit of a break for not using less stereotypical locations in the city....but I show no mercy for her regarding anything else in this farce of a novel.

Admittedly, I liked the novel for about the first 200 pages when it seemed to be leading somewhere. Or I was at least more willing to overlook the things I did not like about it, especially given it's the author's first novel. Of course it won't be flawless; I understand that. Around 350 (of a total of 514) pages in though, I was annoyed with every page.

I really wanted to like this novel, but it fell incredibly short on all levels. Where do I even begin?

1. The author is trying too hard to make the novel a heady mix of romance and erotica with BDSM elements to it. Um....those three don't tend to go together. Anyone that knows the psychology of human sexual behavior should know that. No wonder Anastasia was confused by Christian Grey's behavior. Hell, I the reader was confused by his behavior. No heterosexual male in the real world would say flowery things to a woman one minute (if at all!), followed by kinky shit, then boyfriend/significant other talk the next. And when Christian is confused about his commitment issues, he blames it on his early upbringing. "My mom was a crack whore." Really? Really?! You can't get more inventive than that stereotype, Ms. James? So lame.

2. It also annoyed me that these characters could never make up their minds. It made them very unlikeable. Early on, Christian makes a sexual contract that he asks Ana to read thoroughly and sign if she wants to willingly participate in the various sexual practices. Throughout the novel, she is wishy washy about whether she wants to abide by the 'rules' of the contract yet the contract is pointless because she has her sexual free for all with him anyway. I'm pretty sure this would never fly in the real world of the BDSM community where honesty and clear decision making is paramount to participate in these acts.

3. The author's use of vocabulary is redundant and insipid. As at least one other reviewer has noted, the same phrases are annoyingly used over and over and over again. If I had to drink alcohol every time I read "I flush" or "my inner goddess" or even "holy crap/holy smokes/holy cow," I'd be intoxicated within minutes. For a subject (an attempt at the topic of BDSM anyway) that requires confidence, a certain level of fearlessness, and lack of inhibitions, the writing was prudish and juvenile. She maybe used the word 'clitoris' two or three times in the 514 pages. Otherwise, it was 'my sex' or 'down there.' Really? If you can't say it, you shouldn't be writing any book about erotica, romance, or porn.

4. Poor character development and terrible plot. The beginning of the book had some promise, as it seemed to be building up to something. The reader is introduced to a handful of other characters that made the story a little well-rounded and believeable. Once the focus shifts solely on Anastasia and Christian, however, all character development (including that of Ana and Christian) stagnates. I kept waiting for the big reveal from Christian why he was 'fifty shades of fucked up.' Other than his big 'secret' that his biological mom was a 'crack whore,' the author left much to be desired. The second half of the book also had no flow to it....nothing but one poorly contrived sex scene after another.

5. How is this a bestseller and how did this manage to become a series? This book did not turn me on and I will not be reading the other two.

I've never written such a critical review of any book before, which speaks volumes given that I'm an avid and open-minded reader. I just can't get over how a book can be so terrible and yet loved by so many women that are giving it 4 or 5 stars. Sad.

Ladies, if you want erotica of real substance and intelligent writing....read Anais Nin's work, particularly Henry and June. Hot. If you want novels with a more accurate portrayal of BDSM, look to your local BDSM community for the best recommendations. Or better yet, check out the works of the Marquis de Sade. But be forewarned, it's not for the squeamish or the faint of heart. If you want your fix of 'unrealistic romance fantasy,' stick with Harlequin?

As for Fifty Shades (of Bad Writing), it's one of the few books that is deserving of the 1 star I have given it. God help us everyone when they make this novel into a movie. And may Ryan Gosling be the one to save us in our turned off state of mind.

FIRST, Seat 5F

I'm far from being rich. My profession isn't one that offers opportunities for 'traveling on business' either. Last night I had the pure luck to be selected for a seat in first class, a direct flight from Chicago to Seattle (on standby status, no less!). Exciting and surreal all at once. It's strange (and sad actually) how much different you get treated when you sit in this area of the plane. I knew the service would be luxurious compared to my usual flying in coach, but even so I still found myself astounded by all they do for people in first class. The only thing missing was someone to fan me and give me a foot massage. Perhaps I shouldn't hold my breath. Maybe they already do this on international flights?

LEG. ROOM. I was comfortable the entire time....sitting on a leather seat. There was a 'recliner' option but I never used it because I was so comfortable already and had no intention of sleeping during this once in a lifetime first class flying experience. There's only 2 seats per row, so there was only one person (a man who looked to be in his 50's or 60's) sitting beside me. There's also a mini table between the seats, so you can put your drinks on that if you don't feel like putting it on the pull-out tray.

Within minutes of the flight taking off, the flight attendant comes around with tongs and a plate of steamy warm damp washcloths. Now until that point, I had been pretty excited about what that part of the first class experience would be like. When I was actually handed one, however, I felt silly with it. I started to pat my chin with it and felt incredibly pretentious, as if I just did some really hard and sweaty labor.....when really I'm just sitting on this really comfy chair in temporary heaven. I opted for "washing" my hands with it, especially since I'd be eating.

Shortly thereafter, the flight attendants working in first class (two!) asked for drink orders. At that point, I really wanted to order an alcoholic beverage (because I didn't have to pay for it!), but I had no idea if I had to wait for that kind of drink until later so I ordered a ginger ale. The man beside me ordered a gin and tonic so I realized I could have ordered alcohol right away. My ginger ale arrives in a glass, not one of those rinky dink plastic cups. Turns out there's no plasticware in first class! WARM mixed nuts are served in a tiny ceramic bowl for starters. There were tons of nuts in it...I didn't even finish half of it.

15-20 minutes later, I'm asked "Are you hungry (for dinner)?" Oh my. I can't remember the last time I ate a meal on a plane...probably in the 1980's. I'm asked if I want a lemon pepper chicken with vegetables or ricotta shells with a sun dried tomato sauce. I go with the pasta. At this point, I'm trying to figure out where the tray is located and feel dumb for having to ask, as clearly I seem to be the only virgin first class passenger. haha. I break down and ask. FYI...if you ever have the opportunity to get on a first class flight, the tray is in the arm rest. Pull that baby up and it comes out (you have to unfold it once to put it in front of you).

Get this: They bring out a long cloth to cover your tray (like a tablecloth for trays!!) and also have the same cloth on the actual tray of food they bring to you. It's insane! I felt like I was in a movie. I got real silverware and was served food on real dishes. I was offered a bread roll with my overflow of food which consisted of the following: 4 pieces of shrimp cocktail and cocktail sauce, a small salad (only thing I took a few bites of...it was kinda gross), and the pasta shells. At that point, I went in for the alcohol. There was a small empty wine glass on my tray. Perfect opportunity....I ask for some wine. The flight attendant tells me he has cabernet. "Am I really staring out this window and looking at a lovely sunset while sipping wine?" I thought.

One thing I noticed as I got waited on left and right was a lack of manners from fellow passengers. I was all 'please' and 'thank you,' but the man didn't seem to utter such words. He wasn't rude, but he didn't seem appreciative either. Maybe he's just used to it and flies nothing but first class. All I know is that if I ever became rich, I would still be polite and appreciative of people doing such things for me. I wouldn't become snooty or take it for granted.

5 minutes after dinner I was approached with, "Do you have room for dessert?" Ah, yes please! I got a small glass filled with a big scoop of vanilla/apple cinnamon spiced ice cream with what looked like either a few sprinklings of oatmeal on top. I couldn't even finish the whole thing because I was so full from all the other food and drinks.

It was quiet in first class the whole flight, which I loved as well. I read several pages of "Fifty Shades of Grey" post food coma. This secretly amused me. Here I am flying in first class reading a kinky erotic novel and no one knows it but me. And no, I did not initiate myself into the mile high club...though that would definitely make for a juicier story. About 10 minutes before we land, I partake in a mint that we're offered.

All in all, best. flight. ever. I think next time (listen to me, "next time") I'll pass on the pretentious washcloth though. I'm more of a moist towelette from a plastic wrapper kinda gal.

Self-discovery

Do you partake in the art of self-discovery? I do....as much as possible and the more unpredictable/unexpected, the better I am for it. I think that if society encouraged individuals to pursue a life of positive self-discovery (versus reinforcing the current mentality of fear and narcissism) we would be living in a drastically different world. If we listen to everyone else but ourselves, we may easily freak out and shy away from the very things that could make us blossom on the inside and outside. Yet sadly, this is the norm. It's more the exception than the rule to hear or see someone letting go of control in favor of the risk of exploring the unknown with a curious spirit. I'd like to think I'm one of the exceptions. One of the best compliments I've received recently was from a close and dear friend reflecting back to me the positive value I place on my own self-discovery. As Gandhi has said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world." If I would like others to incorporate this into their lives, I must emulate it through my own experiences.

The key to self-discovery is being open and spontaneous to what that might look like. You may be surprised to find yourself learning and experiencing things you never saw yourself doing a month ago, a year ago, 10 years ago, or pretty much ever! Within these unexpected experiences there is potential for growth, joy, and feeling fully in the present moment. It is impossible to ruminate on the past or dwell on the uncertainty of the future when all of your senses are engaged in what's going on right now. So take a class that sounds remotely intriguing or fun. Take a road trip or vacation to a place you've always wanted to go....by yourself! Take a risk of possibly making yourself look "stupid" or "crazy" by trying something you might fail or do terribly....because there's a greater chance you will lose your inhibitions, feel energized, and maybe even bring out a badass side of yourself you didn't even know existed.

Discard the usual suspects of fear, embarrassment, guilt, shame and procrastination. Push yourself out of a stagnant comfort zone and into the zone of self-discovery.

P.A.S.S.I.O.N.

(Photo taken by me, April 2011)

Positive
Absorbing
Satisfying
Surrendering
Ideal
Open
Nowness

I find when I'm having those moments (or days, weeks, even months) where I'm feeling particular things in life seem insurmountable or difficult to change, it's helpful to bring my focus back to something that can balance out my mood, even if just for a little while.

There are some things within our control and some things that are obviously not within our control. We don't know what will come of our jobs, our health, our relationships, or even the physical environment around us. What we can become aware of, cultivate, and pursue with pleasantly reckless abandon? P.A.S.S.I.O.N.

Passion was instilled within me from a very early age, without me even realizing it until my adulthood (upon reflection). My first passion? Reading and books. Pretty sure I was reading by osmosis in utero via any and all books resting on my mom's pregnant belly during those nine months. Reading is a comforting and sometimes inspiring constant, the one activity that always improves my mood even when the stuff I can't control (ie, aforementioned jobs, relationships, health, what's going on around me) gets to me. Buying books, smelling the pages of new or old books, reading and talking about books with like-minded people, holding books, reading books, giving books to friends, giving book recommendations to anyone and everyone, and holding on to my favorite books on bookshelves. This is what I do as often as possible.

My other passions? Writing (obviously), photography, traveling, learning and challenging myself in new ways (personally and professionally), and most recently the beautiful and intoxicating art of dance.

What fascinates me most about passion is that it offers the opportunity for short-term and long-term satisfaction. A passion can last a lifetime or it can appear spontaneously for just a season. A passion can resonate with you at a young age or show up in older age. A passion may strongly reflect who you are at the core or merely serve as a snapshot of a side of yourself you didn't even know existed. In essence, passion is positive, absorbing, satisfying, surrendering, ideal, being open and in the now.

What are your passions? Are you pursuing them?

Paradox of personal freedoms

When I Google the word "freedom," this is what I come across:

1. personal liberty, as from slavery, bondage, serfdom, etc.

2. liberation or deliverance, as from confinement or bondage

3. (Government, Politics & Diplomacy) the quality or state of being free, esp to enjoy political and civil liberties

4. the state of being without something unpleasant or bad; exemption or immunity freedom from taxation

5. the right or privilege of unrestricted use or access the freedom of a city

6. autonomy, self-government, or independence

7. the power or liberty to order one's own actions

8. the quality, esp of the will or the individual, of not being totally constrained; able to choose between alternative actions in identical circumstances

9. ease or frankness of manner

10. excessive familiarity of manner; boldness

11. ease and grace, as of movement; lack of effort

Too bad applying one of these straightforward definitions to an individual's life and what it means to have 'freedom' isn't quite so simplistic. Especially when one freedom chosen is at the expense of another freedom that must be sacrificed or given up.

When juxtaposed one against the other, when it's impossible to have both at the same time....how does one choose which kind of freedom is the most meaningful, the one that will reap the most happiness and reward? Would you rather give up your personal independence (#6 and #7 above) so that you have liberation from an extremist oppressive culture? (#2-5)? Or would you rather be completely honest, yet confined to a place where you likely will not grow to your full potential? Would you rather follow your instincts or would you rather be obedient?

What if you had to lie to the government for the cost of your freedom? Would it matter if it was a decision that would only affect your life for a few years versus the rest of your life? Imagine that your quality of life in most aspects would be better in country A than country B.

If absolute freedom doesn't exist, what kind of freedom would you ultimately choose and why? Have you ever had to make such a choice? And furthermore, is lying sometimes necessary and justified in order to fight for one of these freedoms?

The Big Death

For almost 5 months now, I've been slowly reading "The Lucifer Effect" by Philip Zimbardo. I'm usually a fast reader of books, but it is taking me awhile to get through this particular book due to the nature of the content (ie, about how evil can manifest in human behavior). I've always been one driven by curiosity and a strong desire to understand the human condition, even exploring topics most would avoid at all costs because they are too morbid, disturbing, or taboo. Because I consciously take on controversial or taboo subjects in an effort to learn, it's rare for me to become overwhelmed in a mental or emotional capacity. The study of evil, however, is something that is harder for me to embrace so easily.

I remember when I was in high school I had to to read "Lord of the Flies" as a requirement for my English class. Although I read the novel from start to finish, I hated every page of it. I couldn't believe that human beings could have the capacity to be so barbaric towards one another simply because they were stuck on a deserted island, left to their own devices. It seemed nothing more than an overly simplistic plot of absolute savagery, surely not a realistic testament to the capacity for darkness. Or so I thought at the time. I was in high school, young and full of nieve idealism; I held onto the notion of human nature being inherently full of good.

My views have shifted towards that of a more gray area, however, the last 8-9 years. It started at the beginning of my counseling career, interning at a residential facility counseling children who had been physically and/or sexually abused...usually by their own family members. Then it was seeing how nasty and unrecognizable human beings can become when their lives are consumed by substances like heroin and cocaine. While working with addicts in a methadone clinic, one woman with a deranged look in her eye nearly took a violent swing at me when I was only there to help her. Now it is in my work with many survivors of trauma, many of which have been the victims of cruel (but sadly not all that unusual) acts of terror.

It is surreal to both believe that human beings have the capacity for compassion and positive self development while at the same time have the capacity to commit heinous acts against anyone in any given situation...and yet that is exactly what I believe these days. Nothing demonstrates this paradoxical notion so clearly than the film "Suicide Killers" (2006) by filmmaker Pierre Rehov.

I had never heard of the film until it was referenced in "The Lucifer Effect" while discussing the topic of terrorism. I put it on my Netflix and finally watched it tonight. It left me nearly at a loss for words, which is saying something given I usually have a way with words. As a well-educated woman, this film made me aware just how little I actually knew (and probably even more I still don't know) about the power of extreme ideology and the evil it can create. I still can't wrap my head around the magnitude of terrorism that is done for the sake of "the big death" (ie martyrdom and the promise of 72 virgins in everlasting "Paradise").

See the 'synopsis' link on suicidekillers.com for a compelling description of the film. I encourage you to watch this documentary for a multi-faceted look at the psychology of terrorism as you have probably never seen before unless you lived in that cultural environment as a civilian or military personnel. It may make you think twice about human nature....good, evil, or equally capable of both.

City walking

As I walked around Capitol Hill tonight, I got to thinking about the art of walking: how it brings out something in my personality that seems to lay dormant when I simply drive my car every day. Is it just me or is this true for most people?


If you've never had the experience of living in a walkable city (specifically taking public transportation and walking quite a bit as part of your daily ritual), you may not understand what I mean. It's almost as if there's a psychology of walking vs. a psychology of driving in cities....and each one brings out different personality traits, for me anyway. Not that I'm a totally different person, but I feel my persona is different maybe.

When I walk around a city like Seattle, Chicago, or New York City, it's as if all my senses are heightened in some strangely pleasant way. My eyes wander to the roads, the cars, the lights, the sky, people in front/around/behind/beside me, the restaurants, the bars, the street musicians, and the obscure little shops I wouldn't normally stumble across had I been driving. My nose picks up the scent of the cold winter air; my ears tune in to laughter, chatter, fire truck sirens, music spilling out as bar doors open and close. My footsteps happily occupy the sidewalks and crosswalks as my mind wanders further than my feet.

Walking somehow allows my mind freedom to expand, to reflect, to analyze, to ponder, to let go of inhibitions or expectations, to explore, to step outside the box, to feel like a part of the community...to live more in wonder. Walking also jogs my memory, reminding me of people and places from times past. A part of me wonders if I wrote more in Chicago because I walked more than I do in Seattle. Wandering around on foot in a city seems to be good for my spirit.

Driving, however, is more like a chore...it's something I dread doing, but I know it has to be done. It simply gets me from point A to point B. It is the antithesis of walking in almost all aspects. It doesn't encourage me to relax or take in my surroundings. It's the one activity that can get me a little aggressive....which is weird because I'm not usually aggressive at all; driving can bring out the jerk in me. When I drive, the goal is to get where I want to go as fast as possible. I always pay attention to breathtaking sunrises and sunsets when I'm driving, sure, but that's about as far as it goes. There's nothing creative and adventurous going on within me when I drive. In fact, most times I take the same exact driving routes and sometimes get anxiety when there are times I must find my way along confusing streets. It's as if my mind is so attuned to doing pleasant and fun things at a slower pace (while walking) that it will totally pass me by if I'm driving.

As much as my personality is different driving vs. walking, each serve their own purposes and come with their own rewards. When I lived in Chicago, I didn't have a car and so I never had the luxury (or choice) to drive when I wanted to do so. The great thing about living in Seattle is that I do have a car, which means I can have the best of what both walking and driving worlds have to offer.

The living moment

(Photo taken by me, July 2011)

Most of us tend to wake up every day and expect things to be the same they were yesterday, whether that be positive or negative. We live with a false sense of security or mindlessness of wash, rinse, and repeat, going through the motions of day to day living (our comfort zone perhaps?). It can be easy to lose sight of meaning, purpose, and/or gratitude when we're on the proverbial auto-pilot.

But what if tomorrow you woke up with a sense of true wonder instead, not knowing what the day has in store for you? Would you be more grateful for the people in your life and the beauty around you? Would you be more compassionate? More forgiving? More happy? Would you let the little things go? I know I would.

Every moment presents a unique opportunity for mindfulness, peace, and completeness. Yesterday and today have been particularly enriching reminders to me of living in the moment.

I live in a beautiful city, the most beautiful place I've lived thus far...Seattle. Now most mornings I begrudgingly head out to work dreading the rush hour gridlock on I-5. Yesterday morning, however, I couldn't take my eyes off the rays of sun pushing their way through the clouds off in the distant horizon of Bellevue to my left. It's a wonder I didn't get in an accident with how hypnotized I was by the tranquil morning sunrise in my midst. This morning was no exception, as I took in the beauty of mountains as a backdrop to the glow of the sun. How did I get so lucky to see something so gorgeous to start my day, right before my very eyes? Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, tonight I was walking to my car as the sun was setting and I was blown away by a virtual painting in the sky, brushstrokes of cloud lines dappled with patches of pink and purple. A camera could do it no justice.

My mindfulness also extends to relationships....being reminded of how quick things can change with people in our lives, in my own relationships as well as what others tell me of their relationships with partners, family, friends, colleagues...and in my profession, even clients we help. Today a friend of mine shared with me that one of his colleagues that is a year younger than him was suddenly diagnosed with stage 4 cancer....and one of my colleagues today found out suddenly that a client died. Funny enough, a movie I watched tonight also reminded me of this same theme. In "The High Cost of Living" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-t1Vc6PfcMs), drug dealer Henry is living a mindless haphazard existence...until suddenly (!) he accidentally hits a pregnant woman with his car one night. I won't say anything more about the movie because it's astounding; you must see for yourself. It couldn't be a more apropos movie to represent what has become a helpful reminder to me not to take the simple (ie, beauty of a sunrise or sunset) nor the complex (ie, people in our lives) for granted.

Suddenly. Suddenly. Suddenly. It can change so fast. We don't expect to get tragic news, nor do we usually expect that the last time we see someone may very well be the last time. Granted, if we took this to the extreme in our lives it may make for a very morbid and paranoid outlook....but taken with a healthy sense of mindfulness and compassion, it can give us the opportunity to live more deeply (and paradoxically, more lightly) and love more fully.

"The living moment is everything." ~D.H. Lawrence

One big box on display, for all the world to see

Prior to computers encompassing a big part of our daily living, it was safer and easier to compartmentalize those aspects of your life you wish to be separated or private....a box for your work, a box for your family, a box for your friends, and a box for acquaintances or strangers. It was fairly easy to navigate through the boxes. If you were cool with one box knowing certain things about you, one or more of the other boxes didn't have to know about it. But then technology started infiltrating its way in, bulldozing those safe little boxes and replacing it with one big mingling social playing (or mining?) field. Boundaries started to become vague, sometimes even non-existent.

While you could once be choosy about self-disclosure with people in your various boxes, the mainstream popularity of sites like Google and Facebook opened up a can of worms regarding finding people, being found, and finding information about other people that they don't want out there for the whole world to see. This particularly hits home for me and while I cannot speak for my therapist friends or colleagues in depth, I know they go through similar thoughts and feelings on this issue. For therapists in particular this can be a thorny issue, and it's only getting harder to manage as technology continues to rapidly expand.

Let me back up to the year 2005, where the story begins for me. After graduating with an MA degree in 2005, I started working as an addictions counselor in a small office on the north side of Chicago. While it was an incredibly hard and challenging job, it also had one major perk. At this same time, I started writing blogs on the now seemingly obsolete site MySpace. My work hours were in the wee hours of the morning and there would be stretches of quiet downtime in between doing any work with clients. This allowed me the time, space, and opportunity to write about different things I happened to be thinking about or wanting to express. It was a way for me to share with my friends and also pass the time in a meaningful way. Social networking was in its infancy stages at that time. Clients rarely mentioned the importance or even functional use of computers in their everyday life, most probably didn't even have one. I felt safe with my boxes.

Several blog posts later (in 2007), a friend encouraged me to create my own blog page (this here) that would allow a potential audience of readers beyond my two small boxes of family and friends. I was apprehensive and nervous as I thought about what it would be like for the world wide web to read my thoughts and in a sense "know" me through my writing. It felt scary being perceived as a "writer" and the vulnerabilities that come with such a role, especially since I never considered myself a "real" writer. My boxes still felt pretty intact....looser, but intact. But then Facebook came along. The boxes started to disappear, or rather there was suddenly just one big box. Everyone from the various boxes were now all with me in the one box. And some lurked just right outside the box, mainly ones I never wanted to see or think about outside of work: clients.

I once had clients at my last job (2005) that didn't even have computers and now in 2011 I have clients who will frequently talk about Facebook. We no longer have private lives, but rather only private aspects to very public lives. I am now overly conscious and aware of what I put out there. It's harder to know if and when I should share or not share (Thank goodness for privacy settings that allow me to make myself invisible in some regards!). It used to be if a client asked me a personal question, they wouldn't know if I didn't tell them. I could freely pursue my photography and writing with reckless abandon. Self-expression felt liberating. I miss that feeling. It has been replaced with borderline paranoia, a neurotic feeling that likely won't disappear. I'm pretty sure my friends and family who aren't in the counseling field think I'm nuts on this particular issue, but they don't know/understand the dynamics of therapeutic relationships. They require certain boundaries and limitations you don't have or need in the relationships you have in your personal life...hence the dilemna and anxiety for what you can't control with technology rearing its sometimes ugly head.

Thinking I must not be the only therapist out there impacted by this issue, I curiously decided to do a little online research and see what has been written on the topic. Once again, I appear to be ahead of the curve on noticing this paradigm shift....I couldn't find anything written about it. The closest thing I could find was this: http://www.zurinstitute.com/internet_transparency.pdf. Even then, all this article talks about is the impact on the client not on the therapist's personal life (especially with the therapist's own creativity and self-expression).

Ever since my graduate school days I have had a way of picking topics that have never been written about, at least publicly/no research can be found on it. I'm compelled with curiosity to start talking to more of my therapist friends and colleagues about this now. Maybe I've had it all wrong on what my first book could/should be about. haha. If I were rich and had ample time, I could write books on all the issues or topics that haven't been written about and are incredibly relevant to the mainstream even though they don't know it yet.

Time to buy that lotto ticket and go back to my one big box of public living....

Lifestyle changes

Making changes to your lifestyle can be very challenging and yet can reap priceless positive results (in many aspects) if you have the persistence to stick with those changes for the long haul. I will admit, it is hard work. Mostly, however, 80-90% of making changes is mental.

If you can envision what it is you really want for yourself, you can then go about brainstorming the necessary steps you will need to follow to reach your goals. You must first believe that you are capable of attaining your long-term goals, no matter how difficult. Having patience and not judging yourself is incredibly important too. Beating yourself up for not doing "enough" or "perfectly" will only lead to discouragement. Give yourself room to make mistakes or what I like to call "making room for when life happens." Sure, you may want to aim for working out 4-5 days a week at the gym....but when you have a cold, have something come up at work, really want to devote your time to spending time with a friend or engaging in a hobby, or even have tons of other things in life that need your attention...it's not always possible. Life happens.

I used to be that person that would feel bad or guilty if I didn't stick to a regimen with my exercise, but now I can recognize that my life is easier and more fulfilling when I am not self-critical. I remind myself that I am focused on leading a healthy lifestyle, and that is an ongoing endeavor.

It's important to look at the bigger picture; the little things don't matter as much. Case in point: I am one to exercise four times a week, which I have been doing since January 2010. I do something different every day, combining weight training with my cardio (which currently includes biking, running, and dancing). Last week I couldn't do these workouts because I had alot going on in other areas of my life, including being out of town for the weekend. While I was disappointed I couldn't do the workouts, I reminded myself that I did get exercise with doing 4 hours worth of walking on the weekend and also had a chance to relax/rejuvenate. You're doing something wrong in your life if you're not taking some time to enjoy and have fun! Although it was a bit hard to get back into my weight training after having lapsed a whole week without it, I reminded myself that I was totally out of shape when I first started this lifestyle change of incorporating fitness into my life back in January 2010....so if I have come this far (losing fat and gaining muscle; starting from a size 16/"large" clothing to my almost size 11"medium" clothing) I can only get better. One week is no big deal.

My newest lifestyle change challenge? Changing my diet. While I find myself having some resistance to it, I know I will appreciate the change in the long run just as I have with making fitness a top priority.

For the most part, I eat healthy....but after hearing what some of my family members are doing with their diet I am totally motivated and inspired to take my own diet to the next healthy level. My dad and stepmom recently did a 3 week detox to cleanse their body of toxins, clean out their gut,etc. They also had some bloodwork done to find out if there are any foods to which they are allergic. It's amazing how not consuming specific foods (or adding certain foods) can drastically change how you look and feel! They shared with me the results of their bloodwork and now that they know of certain allergies, they can make adjustments to their diet accordingly for optimal health! I must admit, I am very much inspired by their efforts and as such, am motivated to start making changes to the foods I eat as well (ie, going with a Paleo diet)!

Exercise and diet (ie, eating healthy, not a "diet") are more than just "healthy choices." They can make the critical difference for your overall well-being....sleeping better, feeling happier, feeling more confident with yourself overall, feeling more attractive, being more alert, feeling "lighter" (vs. heavy/bloated/weighed down/physically sick in any way), having more energy to do various other things you need or want to do, having better mental and emotional health, feeling more connected in your relationships, and having more fun/taking life a little less seriously. The list of benefits is bountiful.

So take a risk. Get inspired and inspire others while you're at it. You'd be surprised how easy it can be to get others to jump on your lifestyle change bandwagon.

"Writer-reader" and nerdy fantasies

If it was possible for me to read a book in utero, I certainly would have done so. It's the only stage of my life that I haven't been a bookworm, and that was only because I didn't have a choice. No matter what is or isn't going on in my life, books are one of the very few constants that remain. As bizarre as it may sound, books bring me the utmost comfort and stimulation....almost always more than people. How many people would say that? Like I said, bizarre...but true! I find things in books I cannot always find in family, friends, or lovers: Honesty. Grit. Inspiration. Diverse perspectives on "uncomfortable" subjects. Passion. One's true inner thoughts and feelings. Wisdom. Acceptance and understanding.

When I'm curious about something and want to learn as much as I can about it, I read. When I want to get a feeling for what an individual has gone through in life, I read. When I'm feeling disgusted or discouraged by the things I don't like about humanity and need to feel hopeful, I read. When I need an escape from reality, I read. When I need to feel grounded, I read. When I need to feel like someone (ie, a writer) understands me because he/she has gone through "it" too, I read. Yes, I read, read, READ!!!!

Considering my love for books, I suppose it was inevitable that my voracious appetite would morph into it's other half: writing. I started writing in a journal when I was a teenager. Nothing noteworthy or thought provoking, of course....but it got my pen in hand busy across the pages. It wasn't so much that I wrote something great, just that I was writing at all. I've read books about creative writing, writing non-fiction and fiction....and various books will tell you it's crucial to write every day, even if it's more worthy of going in the trashcan than in your notebook. I used to think that was a bunch of nonsense, however, I'm starting to believe there's truth in there. It's not a coincidence that the most writing I've done in my life thus far has been during the time I wrote in the aforementioned notebooks and while working at a bookstore (Can a bookstore be a muse?). Altogether, this constitutes...15 years of my life?! I need to discipline myself to get back into writing as much as I did back then. I miss it deeply. *Sigh*

Writing down the mundane on a regular basis exercises your writing muscles. You can "sculpt" yourself into being a better writer....one that focuses on details, one that writes by showing rather than merely spitting out an otherwise great story in a boring cookie cutter way. It has also been my experience that keeping journals/notebooks for several years allowed me the freedom to be totally honest with myself. I knew no one else would read what I wrote; there was something liberating in that. I could reveal things in writing that I wouldn't or couldn't speak aloud to any person.

Writing and reading go hand in hand for me, two sides of the same coin. Writing allows me to speak, to give, to let go. With reading, I can listen; I can be a voyeur. Writing is giving; reading is receiving.

This brings me to "nerdy fantasies." I wonder if anyone else out there is like me in this regard. When I read a book that consumes me with intense delight, I have a tendency to become a little borderline weird fantasizing about the author....and I don't mean sexually. It doesn't matter if it's a male or female author. I have a sudden and strong urge. It goes something like this inside my head (what my favorite authors would hear if I could speak to them directly): "Am I related to you?! I thought I was the only one that felt that way. Why can't I know people in my life like you that think about the same crazy and weird shit as I do?! You're hilarious/smart/bold/creative. You have balls to be totally honest! Your writing shows a likeable quirky side; I wonder if that's a side of myself I could as easily convey? Can we be friends?! Maybe if I were to write in your midst, it could be this weird osmosis kind of thing that just being in your presence would trigger some amazing writing material from within me! I really wish we were best friends. Really. You're my hero. I love you. Is that creepy that I love you? I guess I don't really know you, but I feel like I do because of your writing..."

This is usually followed by my fantasizing about having lunch with the writer, picking his/her brain with my own selfish agenda...either for entertainment or knowledge. At the same time, in my fantasy the writer wants to know just as much about me as I want to know about him or her. I fantasize about what the writer does in his or her everyday life. Is this person as fun and interesting as the writing indicates? Nice or arrogant? Just as passionate and inspiring in other ways as in what he/she writes? Would I like this person as much if I did really know him/her? Is the fantasy better than the reality? What if the reality is better?!

Screw celebrities. They're so boring and overrated. I can't help but roll my eyes when a celeb stubbing their toe or planning their wedding makes headline news. Who cares? Not me. Sure, they can be attractive to look at on the big screen...but writers are the ones with true grit, true substance. Writers are the only "famous" people I truly yearn to meet and know.

I want to write my own book someday...and I secretly hope there's a "writer-reader" (a term I just now coined: an individual that has a passion for both writing and reading)) of my future book out there who will be having the same nerdy fantasies about me.

The Hidden Rules of Class

(At right: Taken from the 2010 U.S. Census)

The agency I work for requires my colleagues and I to complete specific online learning courses every 3-4 months this year. I'm guessing they perceive such requirements as a way to promote "professional growth." I say this loosely, as every course I have taken thus far for these agency reqs undermines our intelligence...not to mention our common sense of basic psychology. The course I completed on Thursday ("A Culture Centered Approach to Recovery"), however, amazingly had something semi-thought provoking within it. I got so excited about it that I actually spent the most time on this one aspect of the course, even eager to share it with others. I'm not sure if it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek, disturbing, amusing, or a combination of all three. Whatever the intent, it definitely challenged me to stop and reflect on an issue that tends to get overlooked or at the least, a societal problem that doesn't (yet) encourage open-mindedness and helpful solutions. It's interesting to see the different priorities, values, and/or potential stuck points of each class. Maybe if we shift our perspective, we can leave room for a paradigm shift on the challenges of those struggling in poverty and proceed with a more collaborative approach.

"People who grow up in poverty learn different things from people who grow up wealthy or in middle class. But most schools and businesses operate with middle-class norms, and most teachers and business people grew up learning the hidden rules of middle-class families. It's no surprise, then, that children of poverty often struggle in education and business environments. In her book A Framework for Understanding Poverty, Dr. Ruby K. Payne presents lists of survival skills needed by different societal classes. Test your skills by answering the following questions." (Copyright by www.ahaprocess.com)

Could you survive in poverty? Check each item that applies.
I know how to...

__find the best rummage sales
__locate grocery stores' garbage bins that have throw-away food
__bail someone out of jail
__physically fight and defend myself
__get a gun, even if I have a police record
__keep my clothes from being stolen at the Laundromat
__sniff out problems in a used car
__live without a checking account
__manage without electricity and a phone
__entertain friends with just my personality and stories
__get by when I don't have money to pay the bills
__move in half a day
__get and use food stamps
__find free medical clinics
__get around without a car
__use a knife as scissors

Could you survive in middle class? Check each item that applies.
I know how to...

__get my children into Little League, piano lessons, and soccer
__set a table properly
__find stores that sell the clothing brands my family wears
__order comfortably in a nice restaurant
__use a credit card, checking and/or savings account
__evaluate insurance: life, disability, 20/80 medical, homeowners, and personal-property
__talk to my children about going to college
__get the best interest rate on my car loan
__explain the differences among the principal, interest, and escrow statements on my house payment
__help my children with homework and don't hesitate to make a call if I need more information
__decorate the house for each holiday
__get a library card
__use the different tools in the garage
__repair items in my house almost immediately after they break, or I know a repair service and call it

Could you survive in wealth? Check each item if you...

__can read a menu in French, English, and another language
__have favorite restaurants in different countries around the world
__know how to hire a professional decorator to help decorate my home during the holidays
__can name your preferred financial advisor, lawyer, designer, hairdresser, and domestic-employment service
__have at least two homes that are staffed and maintained
__know how to ensure confidentiality and loyalty with domestic staff
__use two or three "screens" that keep people whom you don't wish to see away from you
__fly in your own plane or the company plane
__know how to enroll your children in the preferred private schools
__are on the boards of at least two charities
__know the hidden rules of the Junior League
__support or buy the work of a particular artist
__know how to read a corporate balance sheet and analyze your own financial statements

Challenging rigid state law ( MA degree and licensure)

One of my coworkers has been battling a terrible predicament the last two weeks; it is quite alarming. She is wanting to move back to her home state of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and has been tirelessly working on getting mental health licensure in the state of Pennsylvania. She thought everything was taken care of, until she was informed that PA would NOT accept the credits she obtained from her Master's degree at S.U. (can you believe it?!?!)....thus, she currently doesn't qualify for a Mental Health Counselor license in PA. Did I mention she found this out after she had already put in her notice to resign from our employer?! Her job has already been officially offered to someone internally, so there's no way she can keep her current job here.

She just found out a few days ago, however, that there may be a bill in the works to challenge this archaic and ridiculous policy. Please, if you feel so inclined, read below what she wrote and contact Pennsylvania senators on her behalf. Contact before 9/27/11. The Senate Standing Committee will be having a meeting to vote on this House Bill on 9/27/11, and again on 10/18/11. http://www.legis.state.pa.us/WU01/LI/CO/SM/COSM.HTM

I have included the letter I wrote to a Senator near Scranton, PA at the bottom as well. If this can/is happening in one state, you can bet it's a licensing requirement that may be affecting mental health therapists' ability to get licenses/be able to work in other states in the U.S. as well. It's hard enough trying to figure out reciprocity state by state for our profession, but let's all at LEAST get on the same page about recognizing Master's degrees from accredited universities. The mental health counseling profession as a national system needs to give deserved respect and equal opportunity for licensure to individuals from ANY state in the United States of America who have put their blood, sweat, and tears into meeting the rigorous and often far-reaching standards the profession demands from its clinicians.

Here's what coworker/friend wrote:

CALLING ALL PA RESIDENTS (and even you non-PA residents can help out)!!! I NEED YOUR HELP!!! As some of you know I am hitting a serious roadblock in trying to be licensed as a Professional Counselor in Pennsylvania. Basically, the state will not recognize my Master's Degree in Counseling from S.U. because it is 4 credits short of the PA requirement. As the law is written right now, I would have to go back to school for a whole new Master's degree or pursue a doctorate in order to be licensed in PA. HOWEVER, there is a House bill, which if passed by the Senate, will modify the licensure requirements in PA. I would be allowed to go back to school and get the additional credits I need to supplement my existing degree...yay!!

It is House Bill 816. I am asking you to PLEASE take a few minutes out of your busy day and contact your local Senator. Just go to the link below (http://www.legis.state.pa.us/) and in the upper right-hand corner, you can enter your address and find out who your local Senator is. You can also enter HB 816 to see the details of the bill. It doesn't really matter who you contact, as long as we make it LOUD and CLEAR to several different Senators to vote YES on HB #816. Feel free to contact more than one because we need as many Senators as possible to vote YES on HB #816. Please pass this on to as many of your family and friends as possible!! We have to get this bill passed!!!

Thank you all.... this means a lot to the R & I families!!! It will allow C. and I to move home to Pittsburgh and be near the ones we love. It will also allow me to work and make a living in my chosen profession of counseling.

The Pennsylvania General Assembly www.legis.state.pa.us

Here's my letter:

Senator Blake,

I am writing to you in regards to House Bill #816, which would enable extremely competent, experienced and educated individuals seeking residency in Pennsylvania to practice in their chosen field as professional counselors and therapists.

Although I am not a resident of your state, Pennsylvania is my colleague SRI's home state. She and I have worked together for the last 3 years. I have had the opportunity to work very closely with her during this time and I can say with absolute certainty she stands out to me as an intelligent, competent, compassionate, and tenacious clinician. She had recently made plans to move back to Pennsylvania, however, she is unable to obtain licensure there as the current law stands. The state of Pennsylvania would be suffering a great loss by not allowing her to obtain licensure, particularly the mentally ill clients she could provide much needed services to throughout her career.

As Chapter 49 of the Pennsylvania Code is currently written, individuals who received master's degrees from institutions that did not require 72, quarter-hour semester credits have been denied license reciprocity by the Pennsylvania Department of Health regardless of the fact that these individuals have degrees from accredited institutions and, in most cases, have been practicing in the field of mental health counseling for many years.

Unfortunately, the only recourse for these individuals who desire to move to this Commonwealth is to either abandon their chosen profession and education that they have worked so hard to achieve, or to start from scratch to obtain yet another master's degree in this Commonwealth. The current law does not even permit these individuals to enroll in academic institutions to obtain the additional credits needed to achieve the requisite 72, quarter-hour semester credits for license reciprocity. Typically, only four (4), additional quarter-semester credits would be needed.

House Bill # 816 will remedy this situation, which is why I am urging you to vote "YES" on House Bill # 816. The passing of this Bill will not only help rejuvenate an aging workforce, but it will also bring to this Commonwealth the type of individuals whose education and skill can benefit our society as a whole.

I thank you in advance for your attention to this matter.

Mystery of the grumpy, frumpy neighbor

I find myself incredibly creeped out this morning by a recent incident that happened (and is still going on), though I don't know why it's creeping me out.

Tuesday morning I happened to set my alarm to get up earlier than I normally do so that I could get to work at hour earlier. When I got out of the shower, I could hear a ruckus in the hallway outside the door to my apartment. Given that it was 5:45am, I wondered what was going on. I thought maybe there was a drunk or homeless person that somehow got in the building, roaming around and talking to himself (you live in a big city like Chicago or Seattle long enough and it's easy for these scenarios to instantly pop into your mind as possibilities). I wasn't sure if I should go out there to assess the situation, so I put my ear to the door. I could hear a man talking on a cell phone talking about the stats on a woman's blood pressure. A few minutes pass. I look through the peephole of my door and see a group of people guiding my neighbor (across the hall) out of her apartment on a stretcher. One of the EMT guys asked her a question and she responded. She looked awake. I'm guessing she had a heart attack.

Now, I'm not one of "those people" that gets in everyone's business. I know how it feels to be on the receiving end and generally am respectful of not gawking when someone has been hurt,etc. So why is this person different and leaving me creeped out in the aftermath?

I have only had one interaction with this woman in the whole time I've lived in my apartment building, so uneventful that I can't even remember the details. It might have been my the mailboxes, though more likely we shared an elevator ride together one morning or night. All I remember about my limited interaction with this woman was that she appeared to be in her 60's. I attempted to be friendly with her, offering a smile or a kind greeting. She seemed very closed off though and didn't acknowledge me at all, a grumpy and frumpy looking woman. From what I could tell, she lived alone. I don't think I ever saw her go in or out of her apartment either. Very strange.

The past few days as I have noticed the apartment door has been open at times, including right now. A little while ago I could hear the sound of paper bags being filled. Two older men who appeared in their 60's walked by carrying a few bags. As I sit and type this now I hear boxes being taped up. The neighbor isn't there. I find myself looking at her mailbox here and there, looking for signs of whether she has moved or died. Her name is still on the mailbox at this point. I even Googled her name, trying to find an obituary for her (I haven't found anything yet).

I have this bizarre yearning to know what happened. I think what creeps me out the most is that she was an old woman who lived alone. Of course, I have no knowledge of this woman's life. Maybe she was loved by many and just happened to have lived alone. Or maybe she had some health condition that requires her to move into a nursing home or assisted living...or live with family members. She didn't appear feeble or that old looking to me when I saw her though. I am pretty sure she died. What freaks me out is that I keep thinking, what if that is me someday?

Granted, I highly doubt I will become a grumpy and frumpy old lady....but what if she was lonely and had no one in her life that gave her a quality life, one of meaning and happiness, and that's what made her appear a grumpy, unpleasant woman who lived in a studio apartment?

One thing I've always been afraid of (even more so with each passing year) is being found dead in an apartment while living alone. Who would know I'm dead? How long would it take for people to notice that I'm gone? What's funny is that I'm not afraid of death itself, only in how my death is discovered by others and how it affects or doesn't affect them. I guess it doesn't matter if my body isn't found for days since I'm obviously dead, but the thought disturbs me...as does the thought of the possibility of not having lived the fullest life I wanted to live during the time I was alive.

In undergrad college, I took a psychology class (Studies in Death and Dying) that had me visit a funeral museum as well as have me write my own obituary as part of the assignments for the class. At the time, I was about 20 years old and wrote about the cause of death being hit by a drunk driver. If I were to write it now, I have a feeling I would write a more realistic way of dying.....like choking to death (literally) on my dinner because I lived alone and there was no one there to help/save me (which reminds me of one particular "Six Feet Under" episode).

Living alone truly freaks me out sometimes. So does my imagination....

Making people laugh

Making people laugh is a true art form. Unfortunately, I think it's one of those innate qualities you either have or you don't. It's one thing to crack an occasional joke or come up with a spontaneous one liner. Anyone can do that once in awhile. What I'm referring to is someone who is just naturally good at it....someone who can do it easily, on a regular basis, and effortlessly. It's easy to spot a "natural" apart from the person who tries too hard to be funny.

The "natural" is skilled at the delivery, timing, play on words, double entendres, and subtle nuances. It's been my observation that some people can more easily get away with sarcasm (I'm typically not one of them), perhaps due to their overall personality and general style of communicating with others. I've noticed something lately. Of all the people in my personal life I like most (family and friends), they all have one particular quality in common: the ability to convey wit and/or sarcasm effortlessly (and frequently)....aka "naturals."

All these years I have mistakenly believed intelligence to be one of the qualities I admire and prize the most in my personal relationships. While I cannot minimize the importance of intelligence (not to mention kindness), I must fess up and admit I secretly am most drawn to humor. Not only am I drawn to it, lately I find myself envious of those who possess this creative characteristic. Why? I love laughing and I love hearing other people laugh. Appreciating humor in just about anything makes life more amusing and sometimes even more tolerable than it would feel without it. Honestly, I cannot make it a whole day (sometimes I can't even make it through a whole hour) without laughing several times. Laughing is secondary to breathing for me....which is why I wish I had the ability to make others laugh.

I wish I could dish out as much humor as I generously accept from my favorite funny people. I'd give anything for the same people I think are incredibly funny to hold me in equally high esteem...but alas, it's just not in the cards for me. All I can hope for is that maybe there's a quality about me that others wish they had. "I wish I could be as ____ as Katie. She's such a natural at it...."

Recharge the batteries with inspiration

In a world rife with suffering and intolerance, it can sometimes be difficult to identify and appreciate aspects of our lives that are of the more positive and uplifting variety. This is all the more reason to purposely seek this out...to rejuvenate one's inner self with a sense of meaningfulness, courage, hope, and inspiration when it's needed most.

As a mental health therapist who works largely with a population of adults who suffer/have suffered severe brutalities in their lives, it can be even harder for me to incorporate those aforementioned qualities into my personal life. This week in particular is no exception.

I had to (mentally) check in with myself today, as I was starting to notice myself having symptoms of "vicarious trauma" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vicarious_traumatization) after several intense therapy sessions in which clients have talked about surviving something graphic, brutal, and violent (ie, murder, grief/loss over a violent suicide, being a victim of an attempted murder and showing me the scar....the list goes on and on). I sometimes hear the most horrific and disturbing things that it makes the evening news look like a joke, child's play. It's easy to manage when it's sporadic, but when inundated with back to back sessions overflowing with trauma (like this week).....it's way too much. Nurturing my mental and emotional self becomes absolutely critical.

With that said, I have turned to seeking and reflecting on meaningfulness, courage, hope and inspiration. When having overwhelming moments of fear, doubt, exhaustion, and hopelessness....you may find it helpful to ask yourself and reflect upon the following questions (as I have):

What brings meaningfulness to your life? What do you contribute to the world and/or to people you care about?

Who and what inspires you? How so?

What are your passions? How can you utilize your passions in constructive, creative, or even therapeutic ways to heal and propel you forward when you feel like you're "running on empty?"

Who can remind you of your strengths and humanity when you need to recharge? (ie, family members, friends, colleagues, pets)

The "answers" for me this week showed up in various forms:

An amazing feel-good consultation with my colleagues and an outside consultant (we meet twice a month on Wednesday mornings for 90 minutes, yesterday being the first time we consciously took the time to talk about the rewarding and meaningful aspects of our work in this healing profession...felt incredible).

Contemplating seeking a therapist for myself, in part to lighten the load of my own burdens.

Connecting and laughing with a (therapist) friend over dinner and one huge margarita, which included a conversation reminding me of how I was once told I had "moxie" (the highest compliment I've received in my life, along with also being told by a former boss of my "fortitude" he was surprised to discover I have).

Reflecting on the truly good friends in my life, the ones I most treasure and for whose friendships I have utter respect and gratitude.

Being inspired by phenomenal individuals, such as my colleagues (who walk beside me on this bizarre and sometimes lonely helper/healer's journey) or strong women who have grit, moxie, fortitude, determination, compassion, hope, perseverance (as seen in a book I found today at the bookstore, "Run Like a Girl: How Strong Women Make Happy Lives").

Reminding myself that even though I'm terrified of participating in the Warrior Dash (http://warriordash.com/register2011_washington.php) on Saturday, it will be fun and inspiring to experience with two of my colleagues. Something to check off the proverbial bucket list, if you will.

Seeing and/or reading about others who actively pursue their passions in astounding ways, like this person: http://www.readallday.org/blog/

....then engaging in my own passions by writing here/sharing with the world wide web...and logging off to read something inspiring, perhaps even fun and mindless. :)

The Perfect Hike

(Photo taken by me: the very top of Rattlesnake Ledge; around 9:00am)











I love living in such a beautiful state. After a few months of wanting to check out this place recommended to me, the weather FINALLY decided to be agreeable enough for me to venture out and explore today. Someone I know who has been to Rattlesnake Ledge before suggested I leave around 6:00am so that I'd arrive there and start the hike early enough to get the morning sun, few people on the trail,etc. Just me and my small backpack filled with water, Chex Mix, and my Nikon camera. Off I went to North Bend, WA....Rattlesnake Ledge hiking trail in the Mt. Baker/Snoqualmie National Forest. The drive there was quiet and quick, as I left soon after sunrise....starting from Seattle, I drove about 40 miles. I-5 South to I-90 East, exit 32 (for 436th Ave SE), and continue on to Cedar Falls Rd. SE for a few miles. Very easy route.

I started the hike between 7:15-7:30am, a 1.8 mile to reach the top of the ledge (4 miles round trip). I was glad I got there when I did. This was the quietest, most peaceful hike I think I've ever been on in my life (thus far). From now on, I'm going on hikes this early in the morning! I don't despise people or anything, but there's just something extremely enjoyable and meditative about being able to be walk along a trail virtually all by yourself in the forest. I liked the fact that my phone had no reception. Technology felt blissfully out of this realm. The only sounds I heard were of birds chirping, leaves rustling, my sneakers making a crunchy sound into the soil, and a "hello" or "good morning" from the occasional hiker on the trail. Air so fresh that all I could smell was the welcoming slightly pungent earthy soil smell distinct to forests or remote areas in the wilderness.

There's something about walking in this kind of environment that makes it easy for me to put all my worries and "baggage" behind, no matter what's going on with my life at the time. The grand beauty and simplicity nature offers is a refreshing reminder not to sweat the small stuff. In fact, being on this perfect hike today had me even boldly contemplating what it would be like to live off the grid. The idea of living in a place of overwhelming beauty and no technology or noise secretly appeals to me (in the idealistic sense). A part of me would be happier living that way, I think. The hours I spent on this hike were the happiest moments I've had probably all month! It's funny too...as I was hiking, I thought about how my idea of "fun" has changed in the last 5 years. 5 years ago "fun" was staying up late at night, drinking with my friends in the big city. Now I would much rather get up early in the morning and go to a peaceful, gorgeous place where few people can be found; that is my fun. I never get bored exploring Mother Nature and photographing her unique features; she never disappoints.

As I reached the top of the ledge, two hikers who appeared in their 20's arrived right behind me. The guy (Jason) was quite an engaging conversationalist, perhaps the nicest hiker I've met on any hike. I was amazed by his bravery and fearlessness as I watched him hop from one steep rock ledge to the next....and then sit on the VERY edge, what could potentially be a deadly dropoff! I saw the cutest tiny chipmunk scurrying around the rock ledge, but he couldn't keep still long enough for me to snap a photo of him. Tiniest chipmunk I've ever seen! Within 5-10 minutes of hanging out at this spot and taking photos, it started to fill up with a dozen people. I was surprised, as it was only about 9am!

Slightly perturbed that my once peaceful and very quiet hike was starting to get crowded and noisy, I decided to start heading back down. Just then, Jason started talking to me. At first I thought he was talking to the girl who was with him (her name was Sandy, as I later learned), but then I realized he was talking to me. I heard him say "Where did our companion go?" (that would be me, haha). He pointed to one of the signs that showed a few other longer trails that were an extension of Rattlesnake Ledge. He said most people only go to the 'popular' spot (where we had just been) and that he knew of another ledge/lookout about a quarter mile into the East Peak trail going in the other direction. This interesting friendly guy got me curious, so I followed behind them up to the spot. We walked a bit off the beaten path through some little shrubs/a mini trail to get to the ledge he was talking about. I almost liked it more than the popular spot. I got a different view and an enjoyable conversation with Jason.

We talked a bit about photography (he had an old school Minolta camera, said he's a firm believer in film over using digital) and even more so about going different places in the wilderness. He talked about a friend of his that is an EMT and the hikes he's done with the friend that he wouldn't venture on alone. He also told me about "conditioning" (purposely putting heavy water bottles in his backpack to train his body for carrying a heavy load on the way up, then dumping the water out before hiking back down). At one point he apologized for "talking too much," though I don't think I ever gave him the impression I wanted him to stop talking. On the contrary, I found the unexpected conversation with this complete stranger refreshing and enjoyable!

As we started heading back down, I let them go ahead of me since he was a super fast hiker. His parting words: "Maybe we'll see you around sometime." I liked that guy, someone who seemed to know how to truly live in the moment and briefly enjoy nature with a stranger. :)

I started seeing people more frequently, every few minutes (They heading up as I headed down). I found myself saying "Hello" or "Good morning" more often and while most everyone was friendly that I passed, I couldn't help being secretly excited and grateful that I got to savor my experience mostly in peaceful, quiet solitude with a dash of conversation/friendly "companions."

The Perfect Hike.