O'Grady Psychology Associates

Psychotherapy, Marriage Counseling, Neuropsychological Assessment

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Meditations on Humpback Whales: Mindfulness of Sights and Sounds

Tofo Beach, Mozambique
Tofo Beach, Mozambique

On a recent trip to Africa, I climb the bluff from which, I’d been told, I could see whales breaching. I have the strand to myself; September in Tofo, Mozambique, is not the season for beach-goers. I stand like a sentry as I gaze out at the Indian Ocean. I’m familiar with the Pacific, but this is new and thrilling, standing at the edge of the great continent of Africa where several oceans meet.

I scan the white caps for whales, not sure what to look for, not expecting to see them, but feeling excited and hopeful. White, foamy waves turn and tumble in a violent sea…but no whales—and I begin to feel like I have missed out on something important. Perhaps something that will give this long journey a special meaning, beyond appreciating seeing my family.

And then I settle into just gazing and waiting with no expectations. Letting the waves curl and furl as they will, but still letting myself settle into a comfortable place, a standing meditation on the waves. I notice in that stillness of mind the breeze has calmed. My mind has calmed and settled…and there, I spot what’s clearly whale blow, distinct from the wave spray. The sea water gusts up and disappears, and then I see the first of the whales breaching. An enormous black body thrusts up and crashes down in a huge swell of white that I’d have mistaken for another wave if I hadn’t seen the whole sequence. When I calm and settle, letting go of expectations and anticipated disappointment, whales breaching are there to be seen.

In fact, I see so many whales I lose count. I am alone on this bluff, feeling contentment I had not experienced on this trip until now, through patience and letting things happen without trying to make them happen: Allowing the experience to be just that, being with the waves, the sound of the surf, and the breeze. Feeling the sand under foot, and settling into myself.

Insight in meditation happens in much the same way. It is not the goal. Insight can be an outcome, but can’t be forced. Thoughts and feelings that come up during meditation should neither be pushed away nor clung to. Letting go of striving for any particular experience to happen allows for effortless inner quiet.

When I first looked at the ocean, searching for whales, I was craving to see them—and so couldn’t settle into the experience of just being there. But when I let go of needing the experience, my vision shifted and I saw clearly. The whales continued to slap the ocean’s surface, I continued to watch, but without getting caught up in excitement—which can be a seductive detour away from insight.

Splash
Splash

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Every Ornament Tells a Story: Coping with Holiday Stress

ornament

Two weeks into December, and I had no holiday spirit. I had no desire to decorate or to do what I have done for the last 25 years. I am not a bah-humbug person! I love the holiday season: the tree with its hodge-podge of ornaments hiding in the branches illuminated by colored lights; magic memories from my childhood; reading “The Night Before Christmas”; and the magic come newly alive in my own daughters.

That magic was never just about presents. It lay in the expectation, the surprise, and the stories, like the ones I created about each small ornament, tucked into the branches. The glass moose was grazing on the evergreens, the pink elf was watching over the skiing Santa, and the rat king was just inches away from the prince. Every ornament has a history that began from its entrance into our household, and I remember most every one.

But this year was different. I dreaded getting out the boxes or ornaments and mantle decor. I dreaded the holiday parties. I was not inspired by any of it. And while it may have been unusual for me, I know that the holidays are fraught for many. For example, our feelings might not match up with the ones we’re supposed to have. When our emotions aren’t congruent with our expectations and the mood we perceive around us, they feel inauthentic and out of synch. Instead of being the one time of year when everyone comes together in love and support, the holidays can throw a spotlight on a year’s worth of things left unsaid, hurtful words that should never have been said, and all the ways last year’s New Year hopes didn’t pan out. And of course, there is the nearly ubiquitous overconsumption (food, alcohol, shopping) which can create conflicts, guilt, debt, or other problems.

Expectations, Overconsumption, and Depression

In my psychotherapy practice, I often see people who don’t just dislike but hate the holidays. For some, the season reminds them of childhood Christmases when mom and dad would argue, or maybe dad fell off the roof putting on the lights because he was drunk. For others, their kids have left the nest, and all the seasonal rituals feel empty without them. And some parents make the horrendous mistake of using the holiday to announce to their kids that they’re getting divorced, leaving terrible associations for my clients. Although Christmas music and decorations dominate the month of December, holiday stress bleeds into our culture so that people who don’t celebrate Christmas are affected. Families who celebrate other holidays, or none, can feel mixed emotions around this time of year.

I work with people who are experiencing loss of various kinds during the season: loss of an elderly parent; a marital separation; a job loss. The analogy I sometimes use is that this period of their lives may be like a tree weathering a bad year. Growth rings aren’t always even; drought, disease, or just a northern exposure can affect the ring’s thickness and shape, and so the tree trunk’s straightness. In time, their lives would be like that tree, incorporating the unique patterns formed in the process of living.

Nothing is ever perfectly straight. If it was, Christmas trees would be like the artificial ones in shops decorated with perfectly matched bows and garlands. There are no broken ornaments, but also none made by a child’s hands, or passed down from grandma, or chosen together by a young couple. Finding the joy in the season doesn’t require perfection. The imperfect family, the broken ornament, or the crooked tree all offer opportunities for reflection and stories told around the fire.

This poem by Rabindranath Tagore expresses some of the complexities of the season. In living alongside the joy and sorrow it becomes easier to find meaning in a season that remembers so many stories.

 He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.

He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.

He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.

Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.

      Gitanjali, with an introduction by W.B. Yeats, Scribner Poetry, 1997.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, I came out of my funk and realized that I felt like my usual self again. Recognizing that emotions can be mixed during this time of year, allows for acceptance of feeling that doesn’t fit the season’s glitter and glam. As Tagore wrote; days come and ages pass, and enchantment joyfully plays on our hearts in the varied cadence of pleasure and pain.

If you are having difficulties coping with holiday stress, this article from APA has some good suggestions.
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Procrastination: Scratching Items off the Mental To-Do List

When tasks overwhelm
Getting Unstuck: Finding Flow Again

A lot of our stress comes from holding our undone tasks in mind; the more we have, the more they weigh upon us. Sometimes it’s not our actions but the actions we’re not taking that cause us stress. If we can generate ways to off-load the things on our to-do list from working memory, we are freed to focus on one thing at a time, relieving a sense of burden and at the same time allowing us to be more productive.

Full Engagement & Wholeheartedness

This idea of doing one thing at a time with full engagement of attention has been seen as crucial to a sense of well-being by many observers. In David Whyte’s book Crossing the Unknown Sea, he describes an exchange with Brother David Steindl-Rast, who says: “You know that the antidote to exhaustion is not necessarily rest? . . . The antidote to exhaustion is wholeheartedness.” (p. 132, emphasis original)

Finding Flow in Difficult or Unpleasant Tasks

This idea of full engagement as a part of well-being was observed by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, who researched the concept of “flow.” Tapping into this idea, he observed that when people are engaged in an activity that is moderately challenging( neither too easy nor too hard), allows some creative problem-solving, and absorbs the mind, they report that they can be lost in a task with little sense of time passing. On emerging, they feel a sense of satisfaction: pleasure in achievement, but also pleasure in the intrinsic reward of being fully engaged in something interesting.

It’s important, then, not just to focus on the product of your work—the outcomes, the problems solved, the things you get to cross off your list—but also the process. If in addition to achieving good work you are also using your skills and challenging yourself to improve, that, in and of itself, is gratifying.

A recent study, reported on in a New York Times piece, explored how people make decisions—and turned up some surprising findings. Researchers asked subjects to carry a bucket down an alley; they could pick a bucket close by, or an identical one closer to the alley’s end. Believing that people are inclined to save physical effort, the researchers expected that people would pick the bucket farther away, which would require less carrying. Instead, most people chose the bucket near them at the alley’s start.

Working Memory- The Mental Scratch Pad

They tried this experiment in eight different ways with the same result. Why? Researchers believe that people engage in “procrastination”—taking on tasks ahead of time because it feels so good to get it off our minds, even if it’s more work. We can also call this “offloading working memory.” Working memory refers to holding information in mind for a short span of time, just long enough to complete a brief task, as opposed to short-term or long-term memory, which stores information for later use.

Working memory is a mental scratch pad: once an item is completed, it’s crossed off and thrown away. You may remember from Psych 101 the magic formula 7 +/- 2. On average, humans can hold seven bits of data in mind at one time—plus maybe two on a good day, or maybe just five if you’re tired or stressed. There is a limit to what you can hold in your head at one time. That’s why phone numbers are seven digits.

If we try to hold too much information in our heads at once, it feels stressful, so we’ve developed strategies to offload tasks from your working memory. If you can confidently say, “I know I can get to that later; I don’t have to think about that now,” then you’re freed to focus on just the one thing in front of you. This is the reason behind to-do lists.

The Myth of Multitasking

The idea of doing one thing at a time is something we come back to again and again. It is impossible to do constantly but is something to aim for because of the greater feelings of satisfaction it produces. Multitasking is a myth: when you divide your attention between tasks you are less productive and less accurate.

It’s understandable that people want to offload from working memory, but answering trivial emails (tweets, phone calls), sharpening pencils, and so on, may seem like accomplishing things, but they pull focus from the important tasks. We have to select which of these to respond to and which will get done later.

Of course, a lot of what makes us human—and so successful—is our ability to plan and think ahead: we inhibit automatic, impulsive responses in favor of thoughtful, controlled responses. The kids in the famous impulse-control study who were more successful at inhibiting had higher GPAs, SATs, and higher-paying jobs in comparison to the kids who couldn’t stop themselves from going for the marshmallow. At the same time, we know that scholastic achievement does not necessarily make people happy and that restraining all impulses can make for a life without spontaneity and joy. Finding the balance is a crucial component for happiness.

What is it that makes us feel happy? Maybe it’s the wrong question. It is not happiness we should be seeking; we need to engage in meaningful work. As Eleanor Roosevelt wrote, “Happiness is not a goal, it is a by-product.”

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Chronic Pain: Talking About Pain

Synapse process over neuron connection background – 3D rendering

Treating pain is difficult for several reasons. Narcotic painkillers bring with them addiction and other problems, but the medical system isn’t set up to handle behavioral interventions that can help pain management, as I wrote a couple of years ago in a post on “A Behavioral Approach to Treating Chronic Pain and Medical Problems.”

Another reason brought out by Joanna Bourke in her July 13, 2014, New York Times Sunday Review column “How to Talk About Pain,” is simply how difficult it can be to put pain into words that other people can hear. Partly, Bourke writes, this is due to the introduction of effective anesthetics and analgesics, which paradoxically turned describing into complaining:

In earlier periods, doctors regarded pain stories as crucial in enabling them to make an accurate diagnosis. But within a century, clinical attitudes had radically changed. Elaborate pain narratives became shameful, indicative of malingering, “bad patients.”

How are patients encouraged to describe pain today? Often, it’s by picking a number on a scale—sometimes according to a series of increasingly distressed-looking cartoon faces. This might be enough for emergency use, but there’s more to the experience of a chronic pain patient beyond “6. Hurts even more.”

A study published in Proceedings (Baylor University. Medical Center) underscores these findings: “Acute and chronic pain not properly assessed can result in inadequate pain management outcomes and can negatively affect the physical, emotional, and psychosocial well-being of patients. Pain assessment is the cornerstone to optimal pain management.”

For Bourke, assessing pain means listening to the patient:

Pain will always be with us, and by listening closely to the stories patients tell us about their pain, we can gain hints about the nature of their suffering and the best way we can provide succor. This is why the clinical sciences need disciplines like history and the medical humanities. By learning how people in the past coped with painful ailments, we can find new ways of living with and through pain.

Fanny Burney (1752-1840), the English novelist and diarist, wrote a searing account of her breast-cancer operation—sans anesthetic—in 1811. Reading it with a sense of history should give any clinician a better sense of the nature of suffering.

I began a scream that lasted unintermittingly during the whole time of the incision – & I almost marvel that it rings not in my Ears still! so excruciating was the agony. When the wound was made, & the instrument was withdrawn, the pain seemed undiminished, for the air that suddenly rushed into those delicate parts felt like a mass of minute but sharp & forked poniards, that were tearing the edges of the wound – but when again I felt the instrument – describing a curve – cutting against the grain, if I may so say, while the flesh resisted in a manner so forcible as to oppose & tire the hand of the operator, who was forced to change from the right to the left – then, indeed, I thought I must have expired. (The Oxford Book of Letters, 1995, p. 203)

Modern medicine has impoverished the language we use to describe our suffering.

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The Present Moment and Transformation

Mindfulness and transformation.Research reported in the respected journal Science, in an article titled “Just think: The challenges of the disengaged mind” by Timothy D. Wilson et al. (345, 75 [2014]), presented results summarizing 11 studies where participants were first given an electric shock; all participants admitted that the shock was unpleasant, and said they would pay to avoid it. Researchers then asked the subjects to sit in the empty room and entertain themselves with their thoughts without cellphones, iPads, or other distractions. There were only two rules: you can’t get out of your chair, and you can’t fall asleep. Participants did have the option to press a button and receive a shock again.

The mind is its own place, and in it self

Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n.

 John Milton, Paradise Lost

 Very much to the researchers’ surprise, the study found that 70% of the men and 25% of the women chose to shock themselves instead of just sitting there with their thoughts—remember, for no more than 15 minutes.

Researchers ran the test in a lab with college students, but also with older subjects (recruited from churches, farmer’s markets, etc.) in their homes, and they tried to replicate the study with a wider sample of people minus the electric shock. They found that these folks also had difficulty sitting still for 15 minutes alone to entertain themselves with their thoughts. Over half the people admitted to cheating by using their phones. The majority said that hated the experience—it was boring.

What is going on here? Why is it so hard to entertain ourselves with our thoughts that people will actually resort to painfully shocking themselves just for something to do? Why not just stay in the moment and wait it out? Partly, reflecting back and looking ahead are just human nature, something our big brains allow us to do and a big reason for our evolutionary success. Because we can think ahead and formulate goals, or review the past and learn from it, we can accomplish stunning achievements like writing novels, building bridges, and curing diseases (not to mention more ordinary but still essential accomplishments like saving for retirement). But that’s not the whole story.

While being past- or future-minded can have benefits, it’s clear that mindfulness—staying in the present moment—offers essential benefits as well. The present moment is the only one that truly exists. It’s only in the present moment that we can feel peace, fulfillment, and harmony. And it’s only in the present that we’re free to choose. That’s why people meditate and why so many religious traditions include some kind of mindfulness exercise.

But researchers in the study found that even subjects who had experience with meditation and mindfulness found it only slightly easier to sit still without distraction. I’ve found this in my own practice. When I explain mindfulness to my psychotherapy clients, they understand the concept and its value on an intellectual level, and may even experience a sense of pleasurable release during some meditations. Even though my clients have come to me for help in dealing with life’s burdens, and even though they get good results from meditating, it’s still not easy for them to practice mindfulness regularly.

So, what comes up for people when they sit alone with their thoughts? We experience restlessness, discomfort, boredom, and irritation. Sitting in stillness, letting moments come and go and staying with the quiet space, gives room to encounter the self. We come face to face with our anger, our envy, our jealousy and our pride. Those feelings are unpleasant and it is easy to want to be quickly rid of them. Switching the channel in our mind to a diversion such as a show, a game, or a piece of chocolate cake takes us temporarily away from the difficult emotion. We don’t want to feel like a jealous person, for example, because that gives way to other feelings such as guilt—which makes us feel worse. Our self-concept takes a beating when we give it time in the quiet moments.

But if we are to enlarge our Self and be fully alive, we have to face the darker sides. As Goethe writes in “The Holy Longing”:

 And so long as you haven’t experienced this: to die and so to grow,

you are only a troubled guest on the dark earth.

To be at home on earth, learn to sit with yourself in the present moment.