FLOWING to Well-Being: F is for Feeling

The phrase “go with the flow” is commonly heard in mindfulness oriented groups, but what does it really mean?  The word “flow” has an underlying appeal that brings to mind the movement of water, burbling streams and rhythmic waves.  Perhaps we have an inherent understanding of flow, based on our bodies composition of 97% water, but could the term have deeper application to our well-being?

When I was writing my book, Unkind Gifts: An Insider’s Guide to Recovery from Trauma and Loss, I asked myself the same question about the meaning of the word flow, and discovered it held a key to self-exploration and expression, as well as opportunity for enhanced healing from loss.  As I reflected upon the letters of the word F-L-O-W they revealed a connection to particular practice oriented words: Feel, Listen, Open, and Witness.  These words effectively describe the heart of healing.  In the months ahead, let’s consider how each of these concepts plays a role in wellness and recovery.

F - Feel.  Life is so full of hurry and hurt that we learn from a young age to ignore and deny our bodies.  Social messages about not being “good-enough” as we are, come from every corner, especially so when it comes to how we look and feel.  Weight loss products and pharmaceutical interventions occupy the vast majority of the advertising slots on our television screens, and more indirect suggestions for buying everything from groceries to luxury cars bombard us with a message of “buy this and you will be more attractive, more sophisticated, more popular”, and so on.  In other words, “Who you are is not enough, and if you spend your money on this or that product, we can make you better.”  Is it any surprise that drugs, depression and debt are the problems that plague our society?

These social messages along with an understandable wish to avoid negative emotions and physical pain cause us to turn away from or actively block feelings.  Doing so has negative implications for our self-awareness and for our communication in relationships.  If we ignore the body’s signals about pain, we risk missing important opportunities to address imbalances while they are still correctable.  If we block our attention to emotional pain, we seek external sources of blame and may misunderstand our own position in our social environment.  Seeking external causes for our own pain is a bit like looking at someone else’s house for our missing keys; shouldn’t we check our own couch cushions first?

If we take the time to hold a calm, steady attention to our bodies, we can tap into blocked or intense mind-body energies to see what may be contained within them.  These energies are often made up of doubts and fears about our own capacity to handle challenges in life. They may hold losses from earlier times, even some from earliest childhood, and/or may be based on misinformation.  A past negative experience can create distorted perceptions about the present, leaving us vulnerable to a continued sense of victimization or unworthiness.  By sitting with and Feeling those key experiences we can address our childhood-based confusion, and take in more up to date information.  For example, a child whose parents are financially stressed or suffering their own depression may get a message of unworthiness or being unwanted, and may take that message to heart leading to hesitation and low self-esteem in adult relationships.  If instead they can sit with the negative message that they have carried, and see the larger context of parental overwhelm, they can release the blocked access to alternative signals from friends and family, and participate more effectively in their own relationships.

In terms of our physical health, we need to know our body’s baseline functioning in order to notice if and when things may be off balance.  Disregarding pain or fatigue may cause us to miss important cues about self-care or the need to seek medical support.  In my own case, had I not been able to check in with my body prior to know the changing conditions of my breast tissue, I might have missed the emergence of the cancerous lump that was quickly consuming healthy tissue.  Such a missed opportunity might have robbed me of the chance to be here today, sharing my story with you.   

Whether physical or emotional, stress and fatigue can create a ticking time-bomb of immune system failures or disrupted relationships.  The only way to prevent such disruptions is to attend with compassion to the inner workings of your bodymind energies.  Ignoring your own internal signals for extended periods will never lead to a better outcome, even though facing those fears may be hard.  Instead, make some time to sit with your Feelings, reflect and find opportunities to express them and don’t be afraid to reach out if you need help.  Just noticing your Feelings is the first step to FLOWING into well-being, Next time we will explore how to Listen and respond effectively to those Feelings.

Ellen C. Ranney, PhD. Is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in private practice.  She specializes in work with trauma survivors and their families.  Dr. Ranney is the author of Unkind Gifts: An Insider’s Guide to Recovery from Trauma and Loss, (c)2016, available at www.unkindgifts.com.

Making Space

A few weeks ago my son moved into his new home.  My excitement over this big event in the family was increased considerably by the fact that much of our basement was stacked to the rafters with boxes and furniture for months prior, and was emptied out as part of the move. I am always struck by the effect of clutter in my personal space on my mental state.  Even more pronounced is the way such transitions seem to come in bunches of synchronicity.  In this case, the timing of the clear out is neatly contained within the final stages of the book edit resulting in a huge shift in my sense of urgency to a more relaxed Summer Season attitude.

The rush of the move has given way to a slower paced arranging of furniture and unpacking of boxes.  I have been visiting frequently and helping my grandson plant his container garden, and tossing out the gradually emptied cardboard boxes.  As far as my publishing efforts, things are taking their own pace, and there is only so much I can do to expedite before I get the book copies in my hands. These shifting energies sometimes build up to anxiety about all that could or should be done to expedite the project(s), but I try to slow my thoughts and just appreciate the sense of "space between."

In painting, in music and in life it is important to remember that the focus and meaning is only as effective as the context it is held within.  The house full of boxes and clutter is not "home-y;" it is when we place our featured items into position, and open up the space between that we can relax and enjoy our sense of place.  Meandering in life offers the opportunity to find inspiration and meaning that might later be developed artfully and shared effectively.  Patience and gratitude are all about the space between, about mindfully embracing the moment we are in, and appreciating its value in our life as it unfolds.  This moment of pause and appreciate is energizing as we build toward the next opportunity for expression and enactment.  So find some space and wait for what comes next...

Contemplating my Navel

This is the calm between storms in the process of publishing the book.  After a frenzied first three months of the year with editing details filling every free moment, suddenly things went quiet.  The designer sent a few questions my way initially, but other than some back and forth with the foreword, it has been out of my hands. I expect to have to do the final review any day now, but in the meantime I have been, as the title of this blog says, contemplating my navel.

Of course catching up on things like tax prep and phone calls has filled some of my time, but shifting from such busy-ness to relative quiet is a bit disconcerting.  I've had some time to check in with my Parts for their response to the hectic pace "we've" been keeping.  The level of vulnerability around expected public speaking and marketing demands has lifted somewhat, but continues to challenge. Still, I find myself a bit stuck in the realm of "navel-gazing." There's even a fancy word for this preoccupation; omphaloskepsis "from the Greek omphalos (naval) + skepsis (act of looking, examination), as an aid to meditation."  As we say at meditation group, everything is practice.

So the navel thing is real, that is to say, literal.  And while it may seem overly personal, it is on topic for this blog because it has to do with loss.  The naval, otherwise known as the umbilicus is a marker of our mammalian heritage.  The navel is actually the remainder of our initial source of nurturance, essentially the first scar we collect on our journey of survival.  It is the place where we were severed from our mother's body to become independent beings. Pretty heavy stuff for something colloquially know as a "belly-button."

In my case, I no longer have a navel.  Actually, there is a little gash on my belly - a place for lint to gather, where the tip of my little finger just barely fits - but its only purpose is to keep me from appearing to have emerged from a pod like an alien being.  My umbilicus is long gone.  That connection to my birth, my final physical bond to my mother, was eliminated along with my right breast during the reconstruction phase of my breast cancer surgery, 17+ years ago.  A small loss, minor in the face of what could have been, but a loss just the same. And all losses have a right to be grieved.

Perhaps this sense of loss is a result of reading and re-reading the passages of loss that are one aspect of Unkind Gifts' representation of trauma's ebb and flowing in my life.  Maybe it's an indication of how far I have come on my journey, so much so that the minor details are coming to the surface for attention.

Truth be told, I have missed that original umbilicus since the beginning. Now, 7 years after my mom's passing it just feels like one more lost connection to her.  I am fairly sure that had I not been fortunate to have that particular mother, there would never have been a book.  It is an homage to her influence on me that I got this far in the writing process.  Mom was always a reader and a writer.  She made me believe I had something important to say. If not for her, I might just be spending all my time omphaloskepting.

Keeping the "E" in Edit

Life is full of responsibilities and information that sometimes contradict the who and how we want to be.  While I don't think I would make a good hermit, sometimes the idea seems so inviting, if only to cut down on the conflicts and obligations of day to day living.  The toughest part for me is having others tell me what they think I'm doing wrong, or how they think I should be acting differently.  So you can imagine what a challenge it is to go through the editing process as the book is taking its final shape.

I'll admit that not every sentence of that work is a gem, and I appreciate the clarity of a fresh eye helping me to avoid redundancies.  The struggle to express myself as clearly as possible in a way that benefits a cross section of readers, is ongoing.  It is hard to set aside the jargon of my profession in favor of more general terms to present complex ideas, and harder yet to slash some of those ideas to avoid overloading those readers.  But that is the point of having an editor, and it makes the end-product more worthwhile.  Still, my vulnerable creative Parts cringe at being critiqued, and my trauma expert Parts get their feathers ruffled when the language and ideas I've struggled to represent are questioned or dismissed.

It is good to remember that we don't all see things the same way, despite (in this case) having the same long run goal (a worthy read).  When others disagree with us it can be useful to consider their perspective in order to stay flexible, and to reexamine our own point of view in the light of new information.  Such challenges offer a learning edge and help us to grow.  On the other hand there is opportunity to reclaim with new energy those elements of truth in our own lives, despite contrasting ideas, offering greater clarity and steadfastness to our efforts.

Striking a balance between my internally held ideas and the comments or questions of others has become easier through the years of my own trauma recovery.  I have survived cancer, raised my kids, helped clients in their recovery, and read the experts over decades of changing ideas about development and health.  I have learned that truth is shaped by experiences, rather than fact based, and reactions are often shaped by adaptation to past hurts.  Trusting my instincts and examining my own reactivity has allowed me to accept challenges by others, without the automatic response being to give-up or give-in.

As I move into the final read through of Unkind Gifts before releasing it to make its own way in the world, I will stay true to my convictions, while honoring the different ways readers may take in and take on the ideas I have to offer.  I will trust myself to say what is important, while holding space for others to seek their own grasp on what is offered.  I will ask my vulnerable parts to remain open to critique to find the learning edge.  And I will keep the "E" (for Ellen) in the Edit by representing my best Self, not just of the book, but in the lifelong process of growth and change in a complex world.

Transforming Loss

Thanksgiving should be a time of celebration, but this year is has been draped in the black crepe of loss. I attended two funerals, one for a young man who took his own life in the depths of his struggle with mental illness, and the other, an elderly aunt who lived a full and bountiful life. The contrast between these losses was striking, but death does not discriminate.  As sad as each of those losses were to the family and friends of these departed, there was comfort to be had in gathering together to honor them with songs and eulogies, photos and reminiscences, that left us all with a feeling of having seen them off to the next stage of their journey, whatever that may be.

More disturbing losses arrived in abundance with the mass shootings at a center for the promotion of women's health, and a program for environmental health.  The senselessness and depravity of these random and widespread losses is devastating, yet they are only the most recent of the more the 100 such events to take place this calendar year in this country.  Not to speak of the incredible losses around the world through war, poverty, epidemics and callous disregard of life.  How can we assimilate such loss without becoming disconnected from our own humanity?  How can we protect ourselves from the constant mirroring of our shadow selves as it arises in the savage disregard for life among others of the human species.

Instead of turning away in fear and disgust, it is essential that we pause to acknowledge these losses.  We can hold a small light in the darkness by engaging these painful stories with compassion for those who suffer.  It is the disenfranchised who express their express their isolation and frustration through such desperate acts. Only someone with the feeling of nothing more to loose could turn to such measures, thinking they can somehow make a difference by causing such pain to others.  It is hard to even consider expending compassion on people who would act with such seeming indifference to the rights and wellbeing of others, yet their very actions cry out for change.  Change in our focus on independence over interdependence.  Change in our celebration of financial fortune as the measure of success, rather than an opportunity to share and aid those less fortunate.

Crisis always begets opportunity.  May we all seek to offer solace to the suffering; to shine a light on our common humanity; to recognize ourselves in the faces of those less fortunate.  By such efforts we can change the world, one human interaction at a time. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine...

Women's Wisdom

I have a birthday this week; my 56th year will soon be underway.  I understand this is the traditional year of a woman's transition to "Crone."  In Ancient Celtic tradition there was recognition of a feminine trinity of life phases having to do with fertility and creativity.  Beginning with "Maiden," then "Mother," these phases speak to ongoing cycle of birth, growth and death, then rebirth at another level.

Our society tends to downplay the gifts of aging often shuttling elders to the side, although of course these days the life expectancy has increased to such an extent that it happens later than it once did.  Still there is such a focus on youth and vitality that we may forget to appreciate the accumulation of wisdom available among older family members.  We might think there is too much new out there for the past to have much meaning, but the old ways still hold truth.

Having lived through the blessings and struggles of the earlier two phases, I am feeling excited about my entry into "Crone-ship."  I am fortunate to have a group of sister (by blood and by choice) to share this age with.  Our combined knowledge and creative energy is a force to be reckoned with.  If we add our energies to those of the mothers and grandmothers who came before us, our collective strength is a tremendous resource.  It is only when we separate ourselves out that we risk becoming extraneous.

In an exploration of carrying familial truths forward; Generating new formulations from old energies, take some time to think about what meanings your mother has given to you that are part of who you have become.  What do you know about your grandmothers that might have contributed to that gift or burden?  How does it affect you now?  Let this awareness continue for a few weeks and see if there are elements of those contributions that you wish to enhance or to extinguish.  Why and how might you do so? How might it make you stronger?

Begin to pave your path to your own "Crone-ship."  Make some noted in your journal for future reference. Let your intentions be your guide.

Gateways

Growing up in St. Louis, the Gateway Arch is a constant.  This Icon of the city where I live is displayed on logos for city services, car dealerships, morning newscasts and beyond.  More than a monument, the St. Louis Arch is an identity; underscoring our centralized location on the map, and our history as a center of commerce. It so happens that this date, 10/28/15 is the 50^th anniversary of its completion, the day that the final section was eased into place with a margin of error of only centimeters.  What an amazing feat to create this symbol of strength and progress.

Today is another anniversary as well; one smaller in stature but no less meaningful to me.  On this date 17 years ago, I met with a surgeon to receive the diagnosis of breast cancer in my right breast.  Although I could not have known it at the time, that day laid the groundwork for a new identity; a gateway to a different life than the one I’d been living.  You might not have noticed if you’d been looking at me from the outside, although you would have clearly seen the hair-loss and the fatigue of the next months to years.  You might have heard that I had extensive surgeries, but couldn’t have realized that I was blighted, razed and dug into like the riverfront earth where foundations were set deeply to hold a delicate yet powerful new form.  

No, this gateway was more personal, an internal rebuilding without reference to the blueprint to make certain the new structure stayed on course.  This rebuilding was haphazard at first, and had to be created along the way.  There was no way to plan the outcome, and uncertainty about whether the whole thing might just collapse at any point along the way.  I guess that could be said about each of us and our own personal gateway experiences.  Even with the best of plans, we are all held by the hand of fate; architects of our own lives living in a state of delicate balance.

In the midst of the celebrations in St. Louis, I heard reference to DaVinci’s description of an arch as “consisting of two weaknesses which leaning one against the other make a strength.”  These words strike me as a perfect description of life in relationship.  The arch of my recovery has been propped against the equally vulnerable support of my husband and family, when the wind blows hard, and I wonder if I might just topple this time, I reach across to them, and find strength in the broken places.  The further we get from the start, the more we need each other for support.  Leaning against one another, we make a strength.  Our gateway opens to a multitude of possibilities.  We are symbols of progress.