Face it, I’ve written many blog posts about faces during these many year(s) of living non-judgmentally. I think and write so much about faces because our experiences of faces are vitally important to human beings as we develop and grow.
Yesterday, I was facing more thoughts about faces as I faced another day at work, where I facea variety of expressive faces in individual and group therapy. I thought about faces I saw when I was young — loving faces, anxious faces, and angry faces — and how I tried to make sense of all the faces of human interaction. I know that the loving faces helped me feel safe and secure, the anxious faces taught me to be cautious and careful, and the angry faces eventually invited me to realize that people have a wide range of feelings.
As I thought about faces throughout the day, I noticed many faces around me. What do you see in the faces in my photos?
What we see in faces is often influenced by what we saw in the faces of our childhood. However, we can learn to see faces in new, more expansive, and less restrictive ways.
Why oh why am I writing a fourth blog post about Why? Why am I linking to the previous three posts (here, here, and here)?
Why did I write “Why?” on two different white boards at work yesterday?
Why do white boards consistently get more difficult to erase?
Why were people in therapy yesterday asking so many WHY? questions, including:
Why is there so much traffic?
Why did it take me four times as long as usual to get here today?
Why do people back their cars into spaces in parking lots?
Why do people do what they do?
Why do I deliberately act like a mischievous child?
Why am I in so much pain?
Why am I in therapy?
Why aren’t other people in therapy?
Why did I take the rest of these pictures?
Why is it taking so much longer for me to access and transfer my photos? Why does that happen periodically? Why does it bother me less each time it happens?
Why am I still having trouble writing that letter from the President for my professional organization’s newsletter? Why did I start fresh yesterday with a new topic? Why did Michael say he thought my first, abandoned topic (the rejuvenation of Spring) was better? Why am I going to finish the second topic and then write another letter with the first topic if I have time? Why am I using the quote “If you want something to get done, give it to the busiest person” in my letter?
Why did I ask all the questions I did in this podcast (starting at 19 minutes and again at 28:34)?
Why did Michael not want to listen to that podcast last night? Probably for the same reason he doesn’t usually read this blog. Why did I think I could find the post that explains that by searching on “Why Michael doesn’t read this blog”?
Why would you leave a comment today?
Why would I thank all those who help me write these posts and also YOU? Why do you think?
Yesterday, in group and individual therapy, several people talked about anger. Those discussions included:
wishing there were some good role models for dealing with anger,
acknowledgement that the current U.S. President unprecedentedly expresses anger every day through Twitter or a microphone,
brainstorming better ways to deal with anger (like walking away, owning the anger, respectfully expressing the anger, or writing angry letters, emails, text, or tweets that one does NOT send),
recognizing that anger is just another feeling that should not be judged or repressed,
defining anger as the human response to one’s needs not being met,
realizing that judging or repressing anger blocks it from being discharged in a healthier way,
role-playing healthier expressions of anger,
deciding to deal with the “wish to break something” by going to a dollar store and buying an inexpensive breakable item, and
considering the skill of doing nothing.
I’m wondering if there will be any anger about the amount and quality of my photos today. If so, please consider expressing that anger in a healthy way.
Harley is contentedly demonstrating the skill of doing nothing.
Here‘s Johnny Duke covering James Taylor’s “Angry Blues:
If I were Johnny Duke, I might be angry about that having only 458 views and nine likes on YouTube. Maybe not, though, because he seems like a very cool cat.
Feel free to express yourself in the comments section, below, or to practice the skill of doing nothing.
I shall now practice the skill of expressing my thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and — of course! — to YOU.
Yesterday, on Facebook, I posted and posed the question: “What’s the worst thing that anybody ever called you?”
Was that called for, to invite people to remember the worst thing they had ever been called? I believe that if we expose and share the worst thing we have ever been called, we can
Now, somebody may call me out and ask, “Ann, what if the worst thing that anybody ever called me IS true?” If there is truth in it, you can decide what you want to do about it. However, in all my years of asking this question, and people answering
stupid,
lazy,
worthless,
crazy,
selfish,
fat,
ugly,
incapable, and
other harsh, hurtful, and over-generalized judgments,
I have seen no helpful truth there.
We could do worse than examine today’s photos for worst things we’ve been called.
Has anyone ever called you despicable, including yourself?
Has anybody ever called you gross? Artificial?
Has anybody ever called you out for hanging on for too long?
Has anybody ever called you weird-looking? Scary? Too starey? Too expressive? Too transparent?
Has anybody ever called you an ass? Too distant?
Has anybody ever called you too spacy?
Has anybody ever called you foolish? Greedy? Not knowing what’s good for you?
Has anybody ever called you vain? Up-tight?
Has anybody ever called you pushy? Has anybody ever told you you’re not doing enough with your life?
Has anybody called you thoughtless? A doormat? Catty? A baby?
Has anybody ever called you a psychopath?
I’m working on a song called “Don’t Call Me” (and I’ve called out the lyrics here). Before I can call that song finished, here’s “Call Me” by Blondie.
I wonder if this post will be the exception that proves the rule. In order to know that, we need to know what “the exception that proves the rule” means.
“The exception proves the rule” is a saying whose meaning has been interpreted or misinterpreted in various ways. Its true definition, or at least original meaning, is that the presence of an exception applying to a specific case establishes (“proves”) that a general rule exists. For example, a sign that says “parking prohibited on Sundays” (the exception) “proves” that parking is allowed on the other six days of the week (the rule). A more explicit phrasing might be “the exception that proves the existence of the rule.”
An alternative explanation often encountered is that the word “prove” is used in the archaic sense of “test”.[1] Thus, the saying does not mean that an exception demonstrates a rule to be true or to exist, but that it tests the rule. In this sense, it is usually used when an exception to a rule has been identified:[clarification needed] for example, Mutillidae are wasps without wings which cannot fly, and therefore are an exception that proves (tests) the rule that wasps fly. The explanation that “proves” really means “tests” is, however, considered false by some sources.
One of my rules here is providing some clarity and explanation about why I’m writing each of my daily posts. Maybe this post will be an exception to that.
Or maybe not. In narrative therapy, it’s important to identify exceptions to people’s unhelpful, generalized, negative rules about themselves and their lives. For example, if somebody sees themselves as a loser or a failure, the narrative therapist helps them identify and talk more about the exceptions to that self-defeating rule.
When I hear exceptions outside my therapy office, I sometimes say, “That’s the exception that proves the rule. Whatever that means.” I’m realizing now that I do know what it means.
Let’s see if any of my photos today illustrate “the exception that proves the rule.”
Usually we don’t have balloons of woodland creatures in the cafeteria at work. Yesterday, there was a holiday celebration called “Wintery Woodlands,” where employees received hot chocolate, chocolate-covered pretzels, a calendar, and a lunchbox. Because I’m exceptionally distracted these days, I left my calendar and lunchbox in the cafeteria. The rule is only one calendar and lunchbox for everyone, so I guess I’m out of luck.
That’s my new and exceptional co-worker, Alice. She’s also taking a picture of the wintry woodlands in that photo. I have a rule, in this blog, of not identifying where I work. I don’t think this photo is an exception to that. (Although I have slipped, one or two times, during the two thousand, two hundred, and ten days of blogging, so I guess those posts are exceptions that prove the rule.)
I’ve taken a lot of photos of this hotel marquee, but none of them have ever said, “12 Days of Music.” I am predicting that this photo won’t be the last one that says that. I’ve also included a lot of music in this daily blog, but I don’t remember ever including any punk. If so, today will be the exception that proves the rule.
Here’s a punk rock cover of “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
If you usually don’t comment, why not make today the exception that proves the rule?
I’m considering not thanking people at the end of this post (which definitely is a rule at this blog), but some rules I do not want there to be an exception to. So, exceptional thanks to all those who helped me create today’s blog and — of course! — to YOU.
If my post title today irritates you or leads you to an understanding of yourself or others, let’s give the credit to Carl Jung.
“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”
… is displayed on the front of the packaging for the Carl Jung action figure in my office.
Whenever I share that quote with others, they seem to understand.
How do you understand that quote from Carl Jung, my understanding readers?
These days, several things are irritating me about others, which means I have an unprecedented opportunity to understand myself! I’m going to celebrate that by sharing some other recent photos (which may be an irritating habit of mine, which I hope you understand).
It’s not how old you are, it’s how you keep learning to understand yourself and others.
Here are 10 additional quotes from Carl Jung, which can lead to more understanding.
I hope you understand my gratitude for all who helped me create today’s post and — of course! — for YOU.
P.S. After I published this post, I realized it was irritatingly similar to this one, from August 2017. I hope you understand!
I’m a Star Trek fan, not a collector, and I recognized Dr. Leonard McCoy’s trademark phrase on a glass at a Thanksgiving celebration yesterday.
I’m a psychotherapist, not a doctor, and I recognize that it’s important how we define ourselves by what we are and what we are not.
I’m a blogger, not a bricklayer, and here are the other photos I took yesterday:
I’m an amateur photographer, not a graphic designer, so click on any of the above photos if you want to see them better.
I’m a questioner, not an answerer (for now), so can you identify what people were and weren’t at that Thanksgiving celebration yesterday, just by looking at those pictures?
I’m a music fan, not a professional musician and I’m sharing Elvis Presley singing two things he is (here and here) and one thing he is not (here).
I’m a curious person, not a pushy one, so might you please share something you are and something you are not in a comment, below?
I’m a grateful human being, not an ungrateful one, so thanks to Michael’s siblings who hosted Thanksgiving celebrations, Elvis Presley, Star Trek, everyone else who helped me create today’s blog post and — of course! — YOU.
What I’m not saying, here and now, includes many things, because I still have laryngitis.
However, I’m returning to work today, where I will do my best to encourage people to share in therapy what they’re not saying elsewhere in their lives.
Here’s a partial list of what I’m not saying:
Some people scare me.
I sometimes fear other people’s anger as well as my own anger.
I miss my son (who is attending University in Edinburgh) and my late friend Michelle.
I’m glad to be home.
When I’m away from work for vacation, I fear I’ve forgotten what I need to know to be a good therapist.
When I name my fears, they seem more manageable.
If I’m confused, I can take a breath and some time to choose the next right thing to do.
I used to have recurring dreams of not being able to speak.
Communicating effectively is very important to me.
I will do my best to say things non-verbally today.
Whenever I put what I’m not saying into words, I feel better. See how it works?
Let’s see what I’m saying and not saying in my photos from yesterday.
What I’m not saying about that last picture includes this:
I’ve had that little book since I attended Berklee in the summer when I was in high school.
Those notations include the melody line and some chords for my fourth original song, “Shameless Appeals for Applause.”
When I was on a boat in Iceland recently, the man standing next to me was saying that he was proud of his son, who had recently graduated from Berklee.
What I’m not saying includes the fact that in the 1990s, I helped create Berklee College of Music’s recruitment video. What I’m not saying is that I haven’t figured out a way to share that video here.
I’m not saying which of these “I’m Not Sayin'” performances I like best.
I’m not saying that those are three different songs but I am saying that I found all three on YouTube here, here, and here.
I’m not saying who wrote that song but you can find that out here.
What I’m not saying, until now, includes saying thanks to Gordon Lightfoot, The Replacements, Nico, Oscar, Harley, Berklee, Iceland, all those who are healing the best they can, and — of course! — YOU.
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