When my non-crazy patients worry out loud about being or seeming crazy, I often say, “You’re not crazy, and I’m the expert on crazy.”
The expert on crazy thinks the President of the United States is crazy.
The expert on crazy thinks this is driving many people crazy, including me.
The crazy expert on crazy, in attempts to remain sane, captured these images yesterday.
The expert husband of the expert on crazy made a crazy good risotto yesterday. I would have been crazy not to marry him last December, before things got really crazy.
Closure is challenging, because it brings up old closures, which often relate to losses.
I like to use the term “ending the chapter”, when I talk to people about closure. Somebody, in my office, recently said that in their culture, they use the term “putting the period on the end of the sentence.” I like that, too.
Here’s what I’ve written, so far, about closure in my final letter from the President:
As I’ve thought about writing this, my final letter to you as President of NSGP, naturally my mind has gone to thoughts of closure. (Personally, I don’t like the word “termination”, because that sounds SO final.) As I have learned from my trainings at NSGP (and as I often tell people in my “Coping and Healing” drop-in groups) a good-enough sense of closure is critical in transitions — allowing us to appreciate what we’ve shared together and to move ahead better equipped for future challenges.
In my groups, we often discuss the insufficient and disappointing closures with family members, friends, work situations, organizations, and other important aspects of our life, and how this lack of satisfying closure in important transitions can keep us stuck. During these challenging days, when we might be feeling uncomfortably stuck, closure is especially important.
So what helps with closure? Saying what feels left unsaid.
Naming what you got.
Naming what you didn’t get.
Discarding what is not serving you well.
Later today, I will facilitate a “Coping and Healing” group on a telehealth platform (which I sometimes call “The Home Version of Coping and Healing”). At the end of the group, the participants will hear me, as usual, acknowledge the importance of getting closure in the “wrap up” section of the group. I will introduce wrap-up by explaining, again, what helps with closure. I will invite discarding “what is not serving you well” by showing this to the group:
That’s the magic waste paper basket, an important part of my Coping and Healing groups. If you throw something away in the magic waste paper basket, it will either go away or come back less powerful. Here’s an incomplete list of what people have thrown away in the magic waste paper basket:
In yesterday’s Coping and Healing group, the members chose to focus on the topic of “Compassion.”
What is your personal experience of compassion? What gets in the way of you experiencing compassion? How could you bring more compassion into your life?
In my responses to those questions about compassion, I mentioned self-compassion and also this song:
I had the compassion, just now, to choose a version of “Shower the People” by James Taylor that includes lyrics and which (I think!) is accessible to all my readers.
“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.”
― Dalai Lama XIV, The Art of Happiness
“Compassion hurts. When you feel connected to everything, you also feel responsible for everything. And you cannot turn away. Your destiny is bound with the destinies of others. You must either learn to carry the Universe or be crushed by it. You must grow strong enough to love the world, yet empty enough to sit down at the same table with its worst horrors.”
― Andrew Boyd, Daily Afflictions: The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe“
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.”
― Plato
“Our task must be to free ourselves… by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.”
― Albert Einstein
“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
― Leo Buscaglia
“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”
― Aesop
“When we give cheerfully and accept gratefully, everyone is blessed.”
― Maya Angelou
“It is easy enough to be friendly to one’s friends. But to befriend the one who regards himself as your enemy is the quintessence of true religion. The other is mere business.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
“Compassion is the basis of morality.”
― Arthur Schopenhauer
In the group yesterday, we also discussed the opposite of compassion, which some people thought was indifference and others thought was cruelty. Do you see compassion or the opposite of compassion in any of my other photos from yesterday?
I have compassion for any thoughts or feelings you choose to express in a comment, below.
Thanks to all the compassionate people out there, including YOU.
As I described last week in two blog posts (here and here), I’ve been working on reducing the power of a toxic person in my life by reimagining them as a less powerful entity — transforming them in my imagination from a dragon to a little yappy dog.
Yesterday, I discovered that it also helped to think of this person as an “odd duck” — an image that I reinforced by taking pictures of the various ducks I encountered during the day.
(idiomatic) An unusual person, especially an individual with an idiosyncratic personality or peculiar behavioral characteristics.
Synonyms
odd fish, strange bird, weirdo; see also Thesaurus:strange person
… do you see any evidence of odd ducks in my other photos from yesterday?
Sting (whose birthday it was yesterday) does not have a song titled “Odd Duck”, but Björk does.
I’m wondering how many odd comments I’ll get about this “Odd Duck” post.
Duck! Here comes an odd number of thank you’s to all who helped me create today’s odd-numbered blog post, including YOU!
Yesterday, I witnessed somebody telling a writer that their story did not answer the “Why should I care?” test. Why should I care about that? Well, sometimes I wonder why my loyal and lovely readers should care about the personal words and photos I share in this blog.
Why should you care if I went to the dentist yesterday and got a new dental crown that was created, before my eyes, in a 3-D printer? Why should you care if Michael and I took Oscar to the vet and he got a clean bill of health? Why should you care if Harley escaped going to the vet by scratching Michael, hissing, growling, and making it impossible for us to corral him in time to make the appointment? In other words, why should you care about what I care about?
Why should you care about how I recorded some of yesterday’s moments?
Why should any of us care about allowing cats and people to communicate their stories in an authentic, personal, and full-bodied way?
Why should anybody care about this video I took of the creation of my new dental crown?
Why should I care about the comments you make on this blog? There are SO many reasons I care. I can only hope I convey that caring in every post and every answer, every day.
When I feel great, I fear that something bad will follow. Good things & bad things happen, but not necessarily in that order.
Last night, when I was feeling great about this week & next, that crown fell off. My dentist — who is wonderful & enjoying a much earned vacation in Florida — reassured me & texted another dentist at Beacon Hill Dental Associates. On Tuesday, I’ll take the cats to the vet & see that dentist.
Are you reading & commenting today?
Thanks & more thanks to all who helped me create today’s post & to you (including my wonderful dentist!) for reading, here & now.
When I open, with care, every new blog post, I also open, with care, my photo app.
Today I care to open with this photo:
I open my car door with care and I also open with care other things, including:
My mind.
My heart.
My mouth.
My eyes.
Every blog post.
Therapy groups.
Meetings.
Communication.
Presents.
Books.
Conversations.
Songs.
Poems.
Emails.
Packaging.
My laptop.
What do you open with care?
I shall now re-open my photo app with care.
“I’m not anti-social” (displayed with care on those socks, above) is an interesting way to open a conversation.
Note that I opened my list of favorite movies with “Singin’ in the Rain.” I’ve opened up, here, about how much I love musicals. Today, I opened my eyes and thought, “I’m seeing Hamilton today!!!”
What kind of number is 2018? The website Numbermatics tells us that
2018 is an even composite number. It is composed of two distinct prime numbers multiplied together. It has a total of four divisors.
2018 squared (20182) is 4072324
2018 cubed (20183) is 8217949832
The square root of 2018 is 44.9221548905
The cube root of 2018 is 12.6368953011
To count from 1 to 2018 would take you about thirty-three minutes.
It takes me about thirty-three minutes to create my daily blog posts, including one where the number of the post equals the number of the year.
2018 is also approximately the number of thoughts I had about how to mark this special number today. I spent about 2018 seconds searching for “mathematical puns” and I found Yan’s One Minute Math Blog,which included these mathematical puns from Stewart Francis:
I’m the youngest of three, my parents are both older.
Of the twenty-seven
students in my maths class,
I was the only one who failed.
What are the odds of that, one
in a million?
What are the odds of my blogging consecutively for 2018 days? What are the odds of 2018 being the kind of year it’s been?
The number of photos I’m sharing today is approximately the cube root of 2018:
After spending approximately 2018 seconds creating this blog, I can see glimmers of light at the end of the tunnel. Can you?
I’ve told many stories in this blog over the years, but many remain untold.
We all have untold stories, including Boston’s Public Garden.
In my profession as a group and individual therapist, I hear many previously untold stories. Because of patient confidentiality, those stories remain untold outside the room (unless the story is mine).
Every picture tells a story, I’m told, but there are many untold stories in my pictures today.
I know there are untold stories in the news these days, but hope, respect, joy, peace, kindness, patience, healing, inspiration, comfort, and love seem to be missing in the stories that are being told.
