I happened to be sitting next to a brother in law over the weekend, at a dinner, in a situation where he didn't have any flexibility to move about. Sure, he played with his mobile phone under the table but he was forced to remain still. This is rare so I made use of this opportunity to ask him questions. He is in the medical field and a most capable practitioner who keeps many of his opinions to himself.
What had been wrong was his father, was it bipolar, I asked? He discarded this thought, seeing the upside of the condition, the mania, as needing to be far more pronounced and severe than he had seen in his father. Well, what of his sister, was that a long depression, or a state of intense anxiety that had lasted her whole life? He saw it as depression, and gave the depression a fancy medical name. This is why she went into hibernation for long stints, he said.
It was at this moment that I felt sorry for him. Here he was, a most capable and knowledgeable medical practitioner who knew his family members needed treatment, but being family, and wanting to have relationships with them, he could do nothing to help them in the mental health sphere due to their lack of self awareness and denial.
I admitted something to him; something that I felt compelled to say out loud. I said that I was vehemently opposed to guns because if I had had access to one in my life, there had been moments when I might have turned it on my husband. He made me manic at times. "The only thing he understands is when someone gets as angry as he does," he replied. "That's the thing he pays attention to."
"Yes!" I said. "That's absolutely right. I hadn't thought about it quite like that. Just that I had come to the end of my rope, but yes, that's the way it goes. When I get mad that settles him down right away."
"Well, don't you think this is all more than a co-incidence," I asked him. Very quietly, he said, and wow, what an incredible thing for him to say out loud to me, "It's a gene. It must be a gene."
A little part of me healed in that moment; that what I had thought and what I had experienced for decades was real.
On the Sunday we were in the car, looking for a park in the city which wasn't forthcoming, when we saw a car park.
"How much is it?" my husband asked.
"$14 flat rate" my son replied clearly from the back of the car.
"What?" my husband shot back, panicky.
"It's $14", I said, slightly louder.
"You don't have to use that tone with me", my husband replied angrily.
I said nothing back.
"What gets into him?" I asked my son when we were walking along together out of earshot.
"Mum, when he feels anxious anything said is experienced in an elevated tone. You need to speak very softly when he is experiencing anxiety."
My goodness, that kid is perceptive. He's a creative sort, but in another life he really should do psychology.
It's the situations in which I have found myself, both moment to moment and finding myself without the ability to have some control over my own life generally, that have lead me to find ways of peace in a frazzled environment. Recently, I've been using a strategy called 'mindfulness of emotions' and I am putting a link to an information sheet here.
Instead of running away from the harmful and/or distressing emotion I am experiencing, I go to my meditation cushion and acknowledge the emotion. I sit with it and determine where it is in my body that the emotion sits. Invariably I find that my throat is constricted, that my chest is tight and that my left shoulder and lower to middle back is experiencing pain. I breathe into the constrictions and pain. I breathe slowly acknowledging the in and out breath and the gaps between the in and out breath, and, bit by bit, I start to feel the body recovering. I start to feel my mind relaxing.
I like to exercise out of the house every day, but not in an angry way. I don't like taking any negative emotions for a walk. Rather, I sit very still with upsetting emotions these days and let them pass. I stay in the moment as much as possible and acknowledge the full length and breadth of all and every emotion.
It probably all sounds voodoo to those not used to these strategies or this sort of challenge in life, but I am happy to say that it is working. I see things more clearly. I settle more quickly. I feel more comfortable within myself. I no longer feel a victim. There is an impermeability to my sense of peace. I can love wholeheartedly and with empathy without feeling burdened by the happenings about me. My meditation cushion is my most valuable possession. I would go to no desert island without it.
What had been wrong was his father, was it bipolar, I asked? He discarded this thought, seeing the upside of the condition, the mania, as needing to be far more pronounced and severe than he had seen in his father. Well, what of his sister, was that a long depression, or a state of intense anxiety that had lasted her whole life? He saw it as depression, and gave the depression a fancy medical name. This is why she went into hibernation for long stints, he said.
It was at this moment that I felt sorry for him. Here he was, a most capable and knowledgeable medical practitioner who knew his family members needed treatment, but being family, and wanting to have relationships with them, he could do nothing to help them in the mental health sphere due to their lack of self awareness and denial.
I admitted something to him; something that I felt compelled to say out loud. I said that I was vehemently opposed to guns because if I had had access to one in my life, there had been moments when I might have turned it on my husband. He made me manic at times. "The only thing he understands is when someone gets as angry as he does," he replied. "That's the thing he pays attention to."
"Yes!" I said. "That's absolutely right. I hadn't thought about it quite like that. Just that I had come to the end of my rope, but yes, that's the way it goes. When I get mad that settles him down right away."
"Well, don't you think this is all more than a co-incidence," I asked him. Very quietly, he said, and wow, what an incredible thing for him to say out loud to me, "It's a gene. It must be a gene."
A little part of me healed in that moment; that what I had thought and what I had experienced for decades was real.
On the Sunday we were in the car, looking for a park in the city which wasn't forthcoming, when we saw a car park.
"How much is it?" my husband asked.
"$14 flat rate" my son replied clearly from the back of the car.
"What?" my husband shot back, panicky.
"It's $14", I said, slightly louder.
"You don't have to use that tone with me", my husband replied angrily.
I said nothing back.
"What gets into him?" I asked my son when we were walking along together out of earshot.
"Mum, when he feels anxious anything said is experienced in an elevated tone. You need to speak very softly when he is experiencing anxiety."
My goodness, that kid is perceptive. He's a creative sort, but in another life he really should do psychology.
It's the situations in which I have found myself, both moment to moment and finding myself without the ability to have some control over my own life generally, that have lead me to find ways of peace in a frazzled environment. Recently, I've been using a strategy called 'mindfulness of emotions' and I am putting a link to an information sheet here.
Instead of running away from the harmful and/or distressing emotion I am experiencing, I go to my meditation cushion and acknowledge the emotion. I sit with it and determine where it is in my body that the emotion sits. Invariably I find that my throat is constricted, that my chest is tight and that my left shoulder and lower to middle back is experiencing pain. I breathe into the constrictions and pain. I breathe slowly acknowledging the in and out breath and the gaps between the in and out breath, and, bit by bit, I start to feel the body recovering. I start to feel my mind relaxing.
I like to exercise out of the house every day, but not in an angry way. I don't like taking any negative emotions for a walk. Rather, I sit very still with upsetting emotions these days and let them pass. I stay in the moment as much as possible and acknowledge the full length and breadth of all and every emotion.
It probably all sounds voodoo to those not used to these strategies or this sort of challenge in life, but I am happy to say that it is working. I see things more clearly. I settle more quickly. I feel more comfortable within myself. I no longer feel a victim. There is an impermeability to my sense of peace. I can love wholeheartedly and with empathy without feeling burdened by the happenings about me. My meditation cushion is my most valuable possession. I would go to no desert island without it.
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