Meditation

January 24, 2017 By Susan O'Grady 10 Comments

How to Be Sad

There’s a plethora of information about happiness.

My literature search on this subject yielded over 13,000 scholarly research articles and over one thousand books. Advice about how to be happy floods the internet daily with simplistic listicles and click-bait articles that make it all seem so easy.

But their advice, like telling a sad person to think about all the reasons they shouldn’t be sad, or a depressed person to just get up and exercise, doesn’t work. Thinking about the good things in life can sometimes ameliorate sad feelings, but usually, trying to grasp at happiness when in the grip of a depressed mood leads to failure. And while the research on exercise’s positive effect on depression is robust and persuasive, depressed people lack the drive to work out: that’s what depression means.

These suggestions, though well-meant, amount to telling depressed persons to snap out of it—or it’s their fault. This shames the sufferer, making things worse. And the resulting family strife doesn’t help. Well-intentioned spouses and parents who believe that snapping out of it actually is within a depressed person’s power will eventually succumb to exasperation and resignation.

A recent New York Times article gives suggestions for eliminating negative thinking, and paraphrases Rick Hanson, author of Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence: ” it might be helpful to ask yourself if you are accomplishing anything by dwelling on your negative thoughts.”

Depressed people have negative thoughts. Understandable. When we’re depressed, we’re likely to feel hopeless, inadequate, and a failure. While practicing controlled breathing and mindfulness even with your eyes open, as the article suggests, will help, how do we get to the point of making these actions regular parts of daily life? When sadness overwhelms, it is often impossible to follow well-meaning suggestions with regularity. Like New Years’ resolutions, these techniques fade quickly.

When Sadness is Normal

Sometimes sadness is normal. Experiencing a range of feelings in reaction to painful life events is understandable; these life stressors would make most of us depressed. When psychologists see a client for a first appointment, we assess mood, its duration, and the severity of distress. Is the client’s symptoms within normal limits given the precipitant for entering therapy, e.g., a marital crisis, job loss, or death of a family member? We would say a client’s feelings are “within normal limits” when they come to therapy with sadness after losing a loved one.

In my own practice, a former client returned to treatment recently because his wife had just died. He spoke of his inability to shake the feelings of loss and sadness. It had only been four weeks, and he asked me if it is normal to feel depressed, and the question that inevitably follows: how long it will last? It’s okay to feel sad—but to someone grieving, the feelings can be so intense that time stands still. Four weeks can feel like four years.

It’s hard to feel deep emotional distress, of course. Indeed, because suffering is part of the human condition, we’ve devised a vast repertoire of ways to avoid experiencing our painful emotions and worrisome thoughts, including self-medicating by substance use, distraction by Facebook and other media outlets, and much more. Americans account for two-thirds of the global market for antidepressants, which also happen to be the most commonly prescribed drugs in the United States. These drugs can play a vital role in helping many people cope with chronic depression, but all too often these medications are over prescribed or prescribed without looking at inner sources of depression.

When Positive Thinking and Life Coaching Make it Worse

Or, life coaches with little training in mood disorders are prescribing positive thinking the way many physicians prescribe mood stabilizers, but even positive thinking strategies are ways to avoid painful feelings. I have seen the disastrous results of life coaches who work remotely from home, charging enormous amounts of money to people desperate for help. Sadly, these coaches have not laid eyes on the people they propose to help. They are unable to see the dangerous weight loss or weight gain or pick up the nuanced suicidal non-verbal communications.

One client I saw judged himself to be a failure after his six-month life-coaching sessions because he was unable to feel better or do the things the coach was suggesting. When I saw him after his failed coaching experience, he was in a deep depression, his sadness palpable. I asked if he was suicidal and he admitted that he was—something his coach had never asked about. Alerting his partner and suggesting hospitalization was imperative. Alarmingly, he had already seen three different psychiatrists and obtained antidepressants from each, and not one of them had inquired about suicidality.

Another example from my practice is that of a woman who saw a life coach because she hated her job. They talked about the need to follow her bliss and sever ties with her employer. She took this advice, quit her job, and when her unemployment ended, she was unable to find another job. Despondent, she came to therapy to help sort out her feelings about her life and to find a way to understand why she was unhappy at her former job. She needed to understand her role in how she was sabotaging herself. She took the long road to what ultimately brought her fullness and acceptance of life and work.

Accepting Suffering as Unavoidable

Suffering can’t be avoided. (In Buddhism, it’s the first Noble Truth.) But allowing ourselves to express sadness and to accept deep pain will eventually allow these feelings to dissipate; blocking emotions only deepens problems. Also, giving ourselves time to settle into feeling allows us to recognize that they ebb and flow. Through this, we can accept that while old age and death are inevitable, and feeling sad is part of living, suffering is impermanent. By being able to sit with emotions and not get caught up in either rumination or anxious fretting, we develop a steadiness of mind. Meditation works by settling our turbulent thoughts and emotions so that we can titrate them into tolerable moments.

What works

When sadness becomes major depression, positive thinking (and related approaches, such as life coaching) are like putting a Band-Aid on a gushing wound. Facing our pain, learning to bear our suffering, and then doing the deep inner work of understanding our role in our troubles is a way out. It is often slow and filled with obstacles. Here are some steps in the process:

Become aware of subtle emotions as you experience them. By becoming aware of emotions as you feel them, rather than pushing them away, you will be better able to use them to employ coping strategies.

When emotions become intense, know that feelings don’t stay that way forever. All emotions are transient. Practices such as regular meditation help us not just to become aware of feeling but also not to indulge them.

Remember that subtle change is hard to see. A broken bone mends slowly; in the early stages, healing is hardly noticeable on an X-ray.

Look deeply at ourselves and the role we play in our mood. Doing so opens what is within, leading to understanding and insight.

Take into account what precipitates depression. Learning to tolerate understandable sadness and some depression helps normalize what we are experiencing. All emotions have a role to play in living well; we must accept and not disown our most difficult feelings.

May 12, 2015 By Susan O'Grady 1 Comment

Maintaining Composure as a Parent and Householder

Maintaining a graceful composure when performing life’s demanding household and child-raising chores can take a toll, leaving us feeling depleted and out of balance. But practicing the postures and meditation of hatha yoga can restore that equilibrium. Yoga practice connects us to our bodies, and thus to our bodily wisdom if it is done mindfully.

Remember: If we don’t give to ourselves by taking care of our well-being, then we cannot take care of others.

One lovely pose (asana) to try is called lalitsana, the pose of royal ease. You can see this pose in statues of Yogini Hayagriva. Yogini translates as female practitioner of yoga. In Hinduism, the god Vishnu is one of three supreme deities, called the Preserver. One of his avatars (manifestations or incarnations) is the goddess Hayagriva, which means the “horse-necked one.” She is depicted sitting on an animal in a graceful posture, lalitasana, supporting her child with one arm. Both mother and child have horse’s heads. Hayagriva is considered to embody knowledge and wisdom. In this mythology, the horse pulls the sun’s cart into the sky every day, shedding light on the world. Symbolically, Hayagriva represents the triumph of pure knowledge, guided by God, over the forces of passion and darkness.

To assume the lalitasana pose, sit on a low stool, chair, bench, or firm ottoman with your left leg bent so that the sole of your left foot rests on your right inner thigh. Allow your right leg to extend, half bent, to the floor. You may notice a sense of ease and grace as your spine becomes aligned in this pose. This asana is similar to a half lotus pose, but sitting on a chair or bench allows the right leg and foot to drape down, without the strain that sitting in lotus pose can have on the knees.

Take this pose throughout the day when you feel restless and distracted. Even a few moments will help ground you so you can return to the tasks at hand with a bit more calmness. A few minutes of mindful breathing in this pose will enhance the experience. May all mothers and fathers feel this sense of comfort!

The horse head on the voluptuous human body reminds me that our being is composed of many aspects. Being a loving parent will look different at different times and stages of your life. Practicing yoga and meditation on a regular basis will help keep you limber and supple in mind, body, and spirit. We need this suppleness to stay open to the many ways life brings us into contact with our own darker natures.

April 15, 2015 By Susan O'Grady 2 Comments

We Fear What We Cannot Control: Acknowledging Pain and Suffering

The German airplane crash by a suicidal pilot, the Florida shootings, the Boston bombings. Every week, we read about innocent people getting hurt or killed. We try to avoid pain and suffering; we teach children to look both ways before crossing the street, wash their hands after using the bathroom, and not to get into strangers’ cars. Even as we reassure our kids that no monsters live under their beds, we know that in the apartment down the street, there lives a convicted sex offender. How do we cope with life’s uncertainty and fear?

The Monster Under the Bed

We are saturated with information. Not long ago, we’d read a morning or evening newspaper and maybe watch the evening news; today, the news cycle is 24/7. And, because dramatically scary stories get our attention, the media makes sure to foreground them—not just what’s happening locally, but world-wide. We end up perceiving fearful threats all around us. The truth is, though, that we tend to overestimate certain kinds of risk while underestimating others. For example, as the Vancouver Sun notes, “We warn our kids not to talk to strangers even though 90 per cent of sexual abuse is committed by someone a child knows. And we freak out about plane crashes despite the fact driving is about 65 times more dangerous.” (“How much risk do you live with?”)

Studying how people evaluate threats, or “risk perception,” helps show why this is so. Psychologist Paul Slovic has studied the subject for many years; here, blogger Sara Gorman sums up his findings: “People tend to be intolerant of risks that they perceive as being uncontrollable, having catastrophic potential, having fatal consequences, or bearing an inequitable distribution of risks and benefits.” Plane crashes feel more uncontrollable than car crashes; strangers feel scarier than people we know. But control is an illusion. Life is full of uncontrollable things, people, and events, so how do we handle risk?

We cope by using reason and denial. Reasonably, we know that life always involves some risk and that we have a natural tendency to inflate threats. You can probably think of one thing you tend to worry about needlessly or unproductively. Can you really do anything about it? Needless worry robs us of a sense well-being; straining to control things beyond our reach only creates tension. But wait—denial? Isn’t that supposed to be a bad thing? Yes, denial is counterproductive when it keeps you from acknowledging harm that you’re doing to yourself or others, like smoking, cheating on a spouse, or abusing your child. But psychologists recognize that the use of denial can be advantageous in many situations. According to the Mayo Clinic, “A short period of denial can be helpful. Being in denial gives your mind the opportunity to unconsciously absorb shocking or distressing information . . . . For example, after a traumatic event, you might need several days or weeks to process what’s happened and come to grips with the challenges ahead.” Be patient and gentle with yourself in the wake of trauma.

We also must learn to balance risk against what we lose by being too careful. When we’re too sensitive to fearful possibilities, we become paralyzed. Not letting your daughter walk home from school with her friends because a car could run a red light, or a vicious dog might be on the loose, may seem protective. But overprotectiveness is harmful because it deprives children of practicing the mastery and independence they need to grow up successfully. And, more subtly and unintentionally, your anxiety seeps into her without either of you knowing the source.

What if the monster under the bed survives because your imagination feeds it every night?

Kids need to find their own strength by testing themselves in the world. That can start as early as learning to sleep alone, in their own beds. (While in some cultures sharing a family bed is the norm, children may be given other opportunities to practice self-soothing and frustration tolerance.) Kids and parents often resist the stage when they need to soothe themselves to sleep. When we know our child is distressed and may be fearful, we rush to give comfort. But allowing a child to sleep between her parents can come at the expense of intimacy in the marriage. By resisting letting a child sleep alone, parents deprive them of learning to calm themselves and tolerate frustration. For a fuller explanation of this problem and how to address it, see Dr. David O’Grady’s “Help Your Child Sleep Alone: The Snoozeeasy Program For Bedtime Fears. ”The important thing is that we convey trust that our child can manage the little and big things that come their way and feel they have the ability to self-regulate their emotional reactions.

Of course, being able to manage emotions doesn’t mean that bad things don’t happen. In mindfulness practices, we teach that suffering is an inevitable part of living. Sickness, accidents, money problems, frustrations, and worries: There is much in life that we have no control over, and as if worrying about the present isn’t enough, we tend to ruminate over past events or future possibilities.

Even spiritual people who actively practice mindfulness can’t escape suffering. In fact, “life is suffering” is the first Noble Truth of Buddhism. I remember listening to an audio interview with the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan Buddhist leader known for his calm serenity. He coughed and hacked his way through the interview, clearing his throat every few minutes. It was an unpleasant sound, but because I was on my treadmill, I didn’t want to stop and find another CD. I suffered along with the Dalai Lama. At the conclusion of the interview, he took questions from the audience. The question was asked; “Dalai Lama, do you suffer?” He answered, “Of course I suffer, I have been coughing this entire time and it is very uncomfortable.”

And as if present suffering isn’t enough, letting worry about the past or future take hold leads to more suffering. When we suffer from the fears we have about the dangerous, uncertain world we live in, we may think the answer is to run away somehow: shopping, clicking, using drugs or alcohol, or eating when we’re not hungry, for example. But pursuing pleasure doesn’t make our painful fears go away. Instead, our efforts backfire because we feel guilt, or dig ourselves deeper into debt, or become unhealthy—and the fear still exists.

Learning to look at our suffering and accept that it exists is a skill. Meditation or relaxation training can help us develop the skill of self-soothing, thereby enabling us to feel less afraid of both real and imagined monsters. As we do this, we also help those around us to be calmer and stronger.

How to Self-Soothe

Practice some form of deep relaxation, meditation, or yoga daily. This will change your psychophysiological baseline so that you are generally more resilient when worry or stress takes over.

Accept that that suffering is part of life. We suffer, our children will suffer, and strangers we hear about in the news suffer. Acknowledging suffering helps because we are not pushing fears down, which paradoxically only makes them grow larger.
Develop a spiritual practice. This helps us develop the strength to look deeply at our suffering; the insights gained about ourselves provide perspective and something to hold onto when our fears run amok.
During difficult moments, use a short breathing practice (such as the Three-Minute Breathing Space or just silent focus on your breath) to stay calm during difficult moments. Being conscious of our breathing brings mindfulness to the present moment and helps pause the thought stream of rumination.
Recognize your suffering without judgment. Some fears are truly awful, yet by staying in the present moment, we avoid getting trapped by our thinking. Look deeply at the source of your feelings, find their roots, and work on transforming the fears that need to be changed. This will allow space to nourish the feelings that bring peace and well-being.

This short relaxation exercise may help you to develop skills to relax in moments of anxiety and worry, as well as provide a foundation to help change the automatic, reflexive ways your mind and body respond to stress. https://youtu.be/TCCA1kGSnB8

February 24, 2015 By Susan O'Grady 7 Comments

Standing Behind the Waterfall: Learning to Change Distorted Thinking with Mindfulness

Giving yourself a ledge to stand on as you watch your thoughts will help get perspective. — Getting a Different Perspective

Thoughts are not facts. When we’re upset, our thoughts seem valid—yet it’s exactly when our emotions get stirred up that our thinking can easily become distorted. Conclusions based on distorted thinking can’t be trusted.

When my friend Sharon returned from a business trip, she was feeling disturbed and uncomfortable. As she described her experience, she clarified why: She had been working remotely in Africa and knew few of the other participants in her company’s conference. She wanted to be included, but wasn’t part of the main team; she felt uncharacteristically shy and felt that her participation wasn’t up to her typical style. Sharon was aware of the tremendous talent that surrounded her and wished she’d had more opportunity to interact with her co-workers.

Taking a Different Vantage Point Gives Perspective When Thoughts Are Overwhelming

Sharon observed her feelings and thoughts with great skill, teasing out the mixture of sometimes conflicting emotions she felt, but importantly, she wasn’t condemning herself or anyone else. If her thought had been “I’m so inept, I can’t compare to these other people,” she might have gotten carried away with ruminations about her inadequacies. By asking herself “What is this I am feeling, in this moment?” Sharon gave herself a vantage point—feeling anxious is not the same as being worthless.

Teachers of meditation often use the image of the sky to illustrate how thoughts, like clouds, come in and out of our mind. The sky is always there, even when dark clouds momentarily obscure the sky. In another moment, the sky might be a brilliant blue with white downy clouds moving slowly or swiftly across its surface. We use these images to show that clouds come and go changeably, just like our thoughts, but mind and sky always remain. Sitting in meditation, we witness the changes of thought and feeling but don’t partake in them, just as the sky is unchanged by the clouds.

One of the exercises used in mindfulness-based cognitive therapy is that of standing behind a waterfall. Standing behind the rushing water and watching it without getting swept away by the torrent gives us a ledge to stand on, just as meditation gives us the perspective to look at our thoughts. We don’t have to believe everything we think, and we don’t have to be deluged by ruminations arising from anxiety or depression.

Try this short meditation:

February 3, 2015 By Susan O'Grady 8 Comments

Meditations on Humpback Whales: Mindfulness of Sights and Sounds

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.

How to Be Sad