Creative Meetup – Grow Mindfulness

Managing Chronic Illness

The November Creative Meetup was facilitated by Jennifer Crystal, author of One Tick Stopped the Clock. Jennifer is a “story coach” with the Health Story Collaborative which hosts the online Meetups. She also conducts the Writing to Heal Immersive at the Grubb Street Center for Creative Writing. Jennifer has a long history in writing about her experience with Lyme Disease and sharing her knowledge with others who have contracted the disease and other tick-born illnesses. Since 2013, she has been the writer of a weekly column for the Global Lyme Alliance and her enlightening and inspiring blog posts can be found on the Alliance website.

Jennifer’s medical journey

Jennifer was bitten by a tick on a camp when she was 19 years old but had to experience many frustrating years of misdiagnosis. At 25 years of age, she was finally diagnosed with Lyme Disease which led to the Epstein-Barr virus (EBV) infection that causes Mononucleosis. Jennifer was bed-ridden and experienced multiple symptoms that doctors had not been able to explain. In her period of misdiagnosis, she was variously told “to rest”, “eat things close to the ground” (e.g. chicken and turkey), and “talk about your feelings” (assuming that the illness was psychosomatic, not real). Grace Currey from Australia (bitten by a tick in the US) provides a vivid description of what it was like to have Lyme disease that was not recognised by medical professionals in her home country.

Jennifer Crystal had a five-year journey to wellness and remission of the Lyme disease. However, she then had to experience a “searing relapse” and eventually found a new balance and developed her teaching-coaching career. Earlier, she was unable to commit to relief teaching because of her inability to guarantee that she could manage physically or emotionally. She is now a leading proponent of the multiple benefits of sharing your health story and teaches people how to write-to-heal.

Stimulus questions during the Creative Meetup

Typically the Creative Meetups begin with a writing stimulus of some kind such as a poem, article or book extract. Jennifer introduced herself to the group and read a few brief sections from her book which served as a basis for creative writing by group members and story sharing in the group. Jennifer’s stimulus questions flowed naturally from her book extracts:

Write about a time when you felt brushed off and what you wished that person could have seen on the inside, or
Pick a single object related to your story and write about it in a poem or prose – see where it takes you!

These were both challenging and fruitful questions that led to some insightful, creative writing by the group and follow-on sharing and discussion. The level of creativity, resilience and insight in the group always amazes me. The Creative Meetup process illustrates the healing power of storytelling and demonstrates the benefits of this approach to “narrative medicine”.

Jennifer’s healing strategies

Besides the medical solution of months of antibiotics, Jennifer identified the need to change her mindset about her chronic illness. She adopted a number of strategies to achieve this:

Integrating chronic illness into her life – she established a “new normal” which addressed the question, “How to live well in the context of a chronic illness?”. This very much involved self-acceptance and avoiding denial. It also meant acknowledging that there was “no going back”.
Shedding an identity made impossible by the chronic illness – Jennifer’s dream was to become a skiing instructor – a role very much tied up with her self-image and personal goals. This identity was no longer possible given her disabilities precipitated by her chronic illness. She had to shed her ”skier instructor identity” and find a new sense of self. She asked herself the question, “if I can’t [follow this dream], who am I?”. This required her to value herself for who she was, not who she might be or could become. She recognised that she was still a caring person, who had friends that she connected with, and was still a writer.
Pacing herself – slowing down and recognising that she needed frequent sleep and suffered from brain fog and other debilitating symptoms. It meant napping each day, taking on freelance writing, listening to her body and sharing the load by moving in with her parents. It also meant building stamina gradually, not trying to achieve her previous “workaholic” status. It required her to accept that things would take much longer than previously to complete and that healing from chronic illness is not a linear process, but an undulating journey of indeterminate length.
Learning to say “no” – part of self-care during chronic illness is to being able to say “no”. Jennifer reiterated the view that “No is a complete sentence”. Saying “no” enables us to set personal boundaries. Jennifer encouraged us not to fall into the “explanation trap”, which itself consumes energy and can lead to exhaustion and frustration. We don’t have to explain everything or give a reason for our “no”. She suggested that we could use her phrase, “No, that would not be healthy for me now”.
Writing – the process of writing enables our inner landscape to become outer, to express the feelings that are hidden inside us. Writing can change our mindset and create freedom. Initially, Jennifer could not write about her illness and all that it entailed, so she concentrated on writing to her friends and family. Eventually, she was able to address the issues of her chronic illness, including the challenge of “not being seen” or understood. She found that writing enabled her to be more honest and vulnerable. It helped other people to see the effects of chronic illness and to become more compassionate in their interactions with others.
Joining a community – the Health Story Collaborative (HSC), for example, provides a community where people are encouraged to share their health stories either verbally or in writing. Their Creative Meetups are one form of regular online interaction in a community that provides social support and encouragement. Jennifer found that undertaking a course in creative writing enabled her to share her chronic illness with her classmates who did not judge her, were in a learning mode too and were exploring making the “inner world” visible. She also noticed that people were better able to assimilate information about an individual’s chronic illness when it was shared in written form.

Reflection

In the discussion that followed the creative writing of participants, one major issue emerged. This involved people not understanding the hurt that their well-intentioned words can cause to someone who is suffering from chronic illness. Comments such as “You look good” or “You don’t look ill to me” can be particularly hurtful when someone with a chronic illness has gone to the trouble (despite the difficulty involved) to “dress up” or put on a “façade” when they are going out in public (leaving their bed and track pants behind)!

The well-intentioned comments can be experienced as “devaluing” the experience of a person with a chronic illness. It can also trigger memories of mistreatment by the medical practitioners who were unable to relate the presenting symptoms to their “medical cookbook”. Annie Brewster (founder of HSC) contends that many patients with chronic illness experience “frustration, invalidation and exhaustion” when their ongoing symptoms don’t fit neatly into the “diagnostic algorithms” of medical practitioners.

As we grow in mindfulness through reflection and sharing our stories, we can increase our sensitivity to the situation and needs of others and experience what Jennifer describes as developing “greater compassion for others”.

During the creative writing segment of our Meetup with Jennifer I wrote the following poem to reflect some of the earlier sharing and my own experience of dealing with medical professionals who consider the existence of MCAS (Mast Cell Activation Syndrome – my chronic illness) as controversial as the concept of Lyme disease:

Validation and Accommodation

There’s no place for me in cookbook medicine –
so I don’t have an illness,
it’s all in my head.

Until something happens that is considered serious –
then perspectives change.

I appreciate my body –
the millions of daily decisions,
the miracle of breath,
the ability to write, walk, run and play tennis.

Now my body seems to be letting me down –
treating good food as invaders,
hypervigilant, ever on the alert.

My new bodily reality –
reflecting the dark and light of nature,
creating a challenge to accommodate the “new normal”,
with its remissions and relapses,
enabling and disabling in unpredictable ways.

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Image by Márta Valentínyi from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Breathing with Intention

In our October Creative Meetup we focused on the theme of “breath” catalyzed, in part, by James Nestor’s book, Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art. In our discussion, various poems about “breath” were highlighted. These included Mary Oliver’s poem, I Am Breathing and Rumi’s poem Only Breath where he notes, “first, last, outer, inner, only that breath breathing ”. The poems and James’ book reinforce the essential nature of breathing for human existence – at every moment that we are alive, we are breathing.

We consciously “hold our breath” for many reasons. It may be to swim under water, to steady ourselves before playing a tennis shot or as part of a mindful breathing exercise. However, we often hold our breath unconsciously when we experience fear, anxiety, anger or shock. This was made clear by an exercise we undertook as part of the Creative Meetup. We were asked to think of a time when we held our breath and explore what happened at the time in terms of bodily sensations and emotions.

What immediately came to mind for me was a car accident that I experienced when I was 12 years old. I was travelling with my family and my father was driving us home. At one moment, I looked out the side window of my passenger seat to observe a large car approaching on the left (we were in a small car on a main road). It was as if time stood still as I realised that the oncoming car was going to crash into us and instinctively I held my breath waiting for the impact. We were hit on my mother’s passenger side and ended up upside down at the foot of a four metre embankment. I can’t remember when I exhaled but I was aware that my breathing was erratic and I was in shock.

Learning to breathe with intention

James Nestor recounts how he undertook research with free divers in Greece. These divers were able to dive to incredible depths (up to 300 feet) while holding their breath (not assisted by any breathing apparatus). They could dive to depths that scientists thought were not possible for human beings. What James learned was that these divers considered breathing a conscious act (not unconscious as most of us breathe in our daily lives). For the divers, breathing is a mechanism to achieve depth in diving and they intentionally “coax their lungs to work harder” so that they are able “to tap the pulmonary capabilities that the rest of us ignore”. The divers suggested that anyone who is healthy can achieve what they achieve if they put in the time and energy “to master the art of breathing”.

In talking to a range of divers, James learned that there are multiple ways to breathe and that different ways to breathe “will affect our bodies differently”. The divers explained that various breathing methods can enhance our brains, lengthen our life span or improve our physical and mental health. Other ways we breathe can have the opposite effects. James discovered that the secret to nourishing our brains and enhancing our health is to breathe with intention.

James expanded his personal interview research with divers by exploring the published literature on breathing including books on regulating breathing that were 400 years old. As James points out, many cultures over the centuries have focused on the art of breathing and its benefits, e.g. Buddhists use conscious breathing to reach higher levels of awareness and to achieve longevity. The scientific literature reinforces the view that how we breathe can affect the systems of the body, e.g. our immune and digestive systems. Some of the research, for example, showed that “asthma, anxiety and even hypertension, and psoriasis” could be reversed or reduced by changing the way we breathe.

James’ conclusion from all his research is that we can use conscious breathing “to hack into our nervous system and control our immune response and restore health”. In his book , he sets about providing exercises to enable us to learn to breathe with intention so that we can reach our potential in terms of our mental and physical health.

Reflection

As I listened to the audiobook version of James’ book, Breath, I began to realise that intentional breathing as promoted by him could help me alleviate my MCAS difficulties – which are fundamentally a result of an over-reactive immune system. Calming my immune system through the breathing exercises contained in each chapter of James’ book could enable me to expand my food options, which at the moment are severely limited because of my food sensitivity responses (such as rash, hives, headaches, and nausea).

Many mindfulness teachers demonstrate that we can grow in mindfulness through conscious breathing which enables us to become grounded, calm the mind and body, expand our lung capacity and increase our focus and clarity of thinking.

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Image by John Hain from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Autumn: A Time for Reflection and Shedding

The Health Story Collaborative sponsors a monthly, online Creative Meetup for people anywhere in the world who are experiencing chronic illness or disability. The Meetup via Zoom is facilitated and is designed to enable participants to spend time writing while in a supportive community and, in the process, “to access and release our emotions, personal stories, and creative spirits”. The Health Story Collaborative was created by Dr. Annie Brewster, author of The Healing Power of Storytelling: Using Personal Narrative to Navigate Illness, Trauma and Loss.

During our Creative Meetup session in September, Jennifer Harris (our facilitator) guided us in reflecting on Autumn and the significance of the season in terms of harvesting and shedding. By way of stimulus, Jennifer quoted Mary Oliver’s Fall Song and the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall”. This led to a session for our creative writing around the themes of “harvesting” and “shedding”.

Autumnal reflections

The four seasons of the year are often used to represent times of transition. Vivaldi’s Four Seasons – “four violin concerti giving musical expression to a season of the year” – epitomises the seasonal transitions we can observe in temperature, the migration of birds, changes in landscapes and in human behaviour. Autumn is associated with harvesting, the gathering of food and growing fur by animals to prepare for the impending winter and significant temperature/weather changes. Many cultures celebrate the arrival of autumn with rites and rituals, especially the Autumnal Equinox (when day and night are equal in length) occurring at the start of Fall (Autumn).

Autumnal rites and rituals often signify change and harvesting. In Japan, the National Autumnal Equinox holiday is a time dedicated to paying respect to “deceased parents, grandparents, and other family members”. In India, Autumn is a time of cleansing. There are various rituals involving shedding to reflect the falling of leaves and regeneration during this season.

Reflections on harvesting

Harvesting is a time of reaping what you have sown. Our reflections focused on the metaphorical meaning of harvesting in terms of abundance or achievements realised throughout the year. We were asked to reflect on blessings we experienced, tending/nurturing received, projects accomplished, and personal growth. Associated with these reflections was encouragement to express gratitude for what we had harvested in our personal life.

I noted the following in terms of my “harvest” during the 2024 year:

Joined the Creative Meetup group of the Health Story Collaborative and participated in the monthly sessions
Integrated the themes and discussion of the Meetups into my blog posts
Wrote poems that reflected the themes of the Meetups and related blog posts – giving creative expression to my feelings
Conceived and structured a book on management – for co-authoring with my colleague (co-facilitator of 80 longitudinal manager development programs, conducted over 16 years)
Organised a publisher for our book and signed a contract for assisted self-publishing
Completed the first draft of 20 chapters of our book on management
Wrote the following posts exploring ways to express gratitude and sharing my gratitude for what I have experienced and am experiencing:

In our discussion of harvesting we acknowledged that it was okay to “harvest less”, given that all participants in the Meetups are people suffering from chronic illness or disability who often experience setbacks in their recovery.

Reflections on Shedding

During autumn we can observe the trees and plants shedding their leaves and fertilising the soil with the decaying material – death generates new life.

There are many things that we can shed if they are holding us back from realising our potential – e.g. identity, old beliefs or expectations. During the Creative Meetup I became aware of the unrealistic expectations I was placing on myself in terms of output for my co-authored book on management. The expectations were not coming from my co-author who is currently consumed by her caring role for an ill relative. The expectations are my own – setting a timeline and trying to determine a daily output.

What I realised is that my personal output expectations needed to be shed in the light of the continuous disruption I am experiencing in relation to health-related issues and medical testing. I have been losing momentum in my writing because of the continuous need to undertake important health-related tasks. I have to accept that this is my current situation and shed my expectations about high levels of output in my writing. I have already changed my expectations of the frequency with which I produce a blog post. However, to date, I have failed to adjust my expectations concerning writing my co-authored book.

My participation in the Creative Meetup with the focus on the autumnal shedding theme, highlighted the need for me to shed my current expectations about output for our book in order to create the freedom and space for other important things such as maintaining good health and my connections with family and friends.

Reflection – a poem

The seasons can help us to grow in mindfulness by enhancing our observation of what is changing around us and cultivating gratitude for what we have experienced and achieved. Autumn promotes reflection on what we have harvested and what we need to shed. I wrote the following poem to reflect the process of shedding:

Autumnal Shedding

Autumn leaves falling softly
Silently seeking the soil.
Shaken from their anchor
Shrivelled, shrunken, distorted shapes.
Shedding, signalling rebirth
Death begets new life.
New growth, new possibilities
Transcending the past.

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Image by Sven Lachmann from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Deprivation Can Engender Gratitude

We take so much for granted – that we can breathe, walk, talk, see, and hear. Deprivation makes us aware how privileged we are to have these functions and other functions such as choosing what we want to eat, achieving basic elimination functions with ease or being able to write or key (not encumbered by arthritic pain and distortion). The recent Reversing Mast Cell Activation and Histamine Intolerance Summit 2.0 brought home the stark realities of how Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or histamine intolerance can impact the quality of our life.

As I listened to various expert speakers who themselves had experienced these conditions, I became more aware of what I do have in terms of quality of life and daily functions. Some of the speakers had periods when they were super-sensitive to smells (such as the perfume of their daughter), unable to eat a wide range of foods because of allergies) or were sensitive to mold in their homes. Others spoke of the symptoms of histamine intolerance and the impact this had on their daily life and their capacity to choose what they would like to eat.

Hope and social support

Parental and social support build hope and agency and enable people with chronic illness or disability to rise above their health challenges and achieve a successful recovery, often beyond peoples’ wildest dreams.

Alexa Leary’s story – from tragedy to triumph

The recovery story of Alexa Leary, Australian Paralympic Swimmer destined for Paris 2024 Olympic Games, is a hugely inspiring account of how parental support and social support have helped her to achieve her goals. Three years ago Alexa had a very serious accident on her bike as a world-class triathlete – causing traumatic brain injury and multiple other significant injuries. She was not expected to live, and, even if she did survive, she was not expected to be able to talk or walk. Alexa’s parents set aside their own lives and spent six months by her bedside in hospital to support her recovery.

Alexa’s rehabilitation efforts are starkly illustrated in the video story, Triumph Over Tragedy. Her incredible sporting accomplishments since the accident reinforces the value of the social support she received from organisations such as the global Pho3nix Foundation, dedicated to helping young people through sport and activity to develop a “sense of purpose, focus and possibility”. Alexa was a participant in their Athlete Program designed to enable underfunded, aspiring Paralympics and Olympic athletes to compete in the Olympic Games. When sharing her story of recovery through radio, television and social media, Alexa emphasised the critical role music played in her life and recovery.

Specialised Support through ADDA

Duane Gordon, President of Attention Deficit Disorder Association (ADDA), elaborates on the benefits of social support and shares multiple stories of how ADDA’s many support groups have facilitated the recovery of its members. Tom, an accomplished engineer, experienced overwhelm in everyday tasks such as shopping but was able to gain support and ADHD-friendly strategies through ADDA’s Healthy Habits and ADHD Brain Group. People with ADHD typically experience relationship difficulties but ADDA’s support group Loving and Living with ADHD: Partners Connecting helped Mark and his partner to rise above the challenges of this condition and strengthen their relationship. ADDA’s support group, ADHD @ Work> Survive and Thrive Support Group, helped James recover from the loss of his job caused by ADHD challenges such as confusion, meeting deadlines and remembering tasks.

Reflection

I was recently diagnosed with early stage, normal tension Glaucoma which has reduced my peripheral vision. I am undertaking a series of tests to determine what the cause is and what kind of treatment is required. The diagnosis has forced me to face the prospect of increased loss of sight, retraction of my driver’s licence and loss of the associated independence. The social support provided by the Creative Meetups, sponsored by the Health Story Collaborative, is particularly critical at this point in time.

I wrote the following poem as a way of reflecting on my present circumstances with the possibility of increased loss of vision:

Losing Sight

Sight lighting my way,
expanding my horizons,
disclosing people and cultures,
revealing nature’s beauty,
enabling enjoyable activity.

Playing a game of tennis,
writing a book,
driving a car,
watching a video,
reading a book,
creating a poem,
developing a blog.

Encroaching blackness,
moving in from the edges.
Losing sight a real prospect.
Rescinding of independence.
Storing recollections for future reference.

A long-playing internal videotape,
of my best tennis shots,
played over the years.
Now categorised by tennis stroke –
forehand, backhand, volley, serve and smash.

A rich palette of memories of nature’s beauty –
blue and white, purple and brown,
red and orange, yellow and green,
grey and black.

Moving from sight to sound,
from reading to listening,
from writing to recording,
from driving to walking.

Feeling my way.
Testing to understand.
Exploring my options.
Appreciating what I do have – while I have it.

As we grow in mindfulness through reflection, meditation and time spent in nature, we can increase our appreciation and gratitude, fortify our hope and strengthen our resilience.

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Image by Shan from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Managing Adult ADHD

Recently BrainWorx launched a virtual interview series that they called the ADHD Toolbox Live with more than 20 speakers involving both live and prerecorded interviews. Some of these highly informative interviews are available on the BrainWorx blog. The Mayo Clinic explains that Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) is a chronic condition in some children and adults that cannot be cured but can be managed through behavioural interventions and medication.

Mel Robbins in her podcast, Six Surprising Signs of Adult ADHD, draws on her extensive research and interviews with leading ADHD experts to explain that ADHD is “a chronic neurobiological disorder” that has an impact on the brain both structurally and chemically and can affect how the brain communicates amongst its various parts.

Duane Gordon, President of the Attention Deficit Disorder Association (ADDA), explained in his BrainWorx Toolbox presentation that ADHD results in “differences in brain development” that can negatively impact capacity to pay attention, to exercise self-control and to remain inactive (“being hyperactive” – a description often given to “naughty children” at school).

Misconceptions about ADHD

Duane was at pains to explain that there are many misconceptions/myths surrounding ADHD. These misconceptions include:

The belief that ADHD is only a children’s disorder – increasingly adults are diagnosed with it when an adult (however, research shows that ADHD is formed before 12 years of age)
The assumption that people with ADHD “lack intelligence” (the opposite is often true)
The exhortation that people with ADHD should just “try harder” (which Duane explains is the most damaging of all misconceptions because it attacks a person’s self-esteem as they are already doing everything in their power to “keep afloat” with everyday demands).
The perception that ADHD is a “little inconvenient” (Duane explains , however, that ADHD can deeply affect every facet of your life – such as financial health, career and relationships). Duane, who himself has ADHD, comments that it “digs into every aspect of your life”.

Symptoms of Adult ADHD

In her podcast of the six surprising signs of adult ADHD, Mel Robbins identifies the following key characteristics:

Hyperfocus – ability to focus intensively in particular settings (e.g. when working on a creative project or writing) despite an inability to focus in other settings (e.g. with children, hyper-focus on computer games but inability to pay attention in class at school)
Difficulty controlling emotions – can be impulsive, easily frustrated and reactive
A tendency to shop impulsively and over-spend – Mel cites Dr. Amen who explains that the compulsive shopping or drug and alcohol abuse can be an attempt to “stimulate the brain with a dopamine rush” (a chemical that has a role in learning, attention & mood)
Time management problems reflected in lateness, being the last person to arrive
Capacity to function at a high level – workaholism (including “all-nighters”) and entrepreneurial success
Highly self-critical – constantly “beating up” on oneself for “disappointing everyone”.

Mel, however, drawing on the work of Dr. Ellen Littman and others who co-authored the book, Understanding Girls with ADHD, points out that the ADHD symptoms of girls are often different to those of boys. She explains that this contributes to the fact that adult women are often diagnosed with ADHD later than men. Mel herself was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 47 (by accident when her son was formally diagnosed with the same condition). She explains that the major difference between women (girls) and men (boys) with ADHD is that the symptoms are typically internal rather than external.

Boys, for example (like her son), express their symptoms physically such as impulsive physical behaviour, fidgeting, inability to keep still, inability to pay attention and concentrate, easily distracted, continuous leg movement and a tendency to interrupt proceedings (such as classes). Girls/women (like herself) tend to daydream and are disorganised and forgetful, and are hard on themselves, seeing their ADHD as a “character flaw”.

Mel notes, again drawing on the work of Dr. Littman and colleagues, that the outcomes for girls tend to be worse than those for boys – resulting in low-self-esteem, self-loathing, eating disorders, and suicidal ideation. In common with boys, girls can experience “overwhelm” but Ellen Littman contends that outcomes for girls (and women) can be “horrendous”.

Managing Adult ADHD

Duane argues that a starting point is to “embrace” your ADHD. By this, he means to “look for aspects that make you special” such as storytelling, leadership capability, capacity for public speaking and creativity. He points out that some of the world’s leading entrepreneurs have been diagnosed with ADHD as adults. He explains that when people are first diagnosed as adults they tend to experience shock, feel shame, resist the diagnosis and tend to become absorbed in regret. He notes, however, that many of the forward-looking organisations are seeking out people who are neuro-divergent because they “think outside the box”.

Duane was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult in similar circumstances to those of Mel – his own diagnosis was accidental when his daughter was diagnosed with ADHD. He explained that when he was first diagnosed with ADHD he did not have a phone number on his business card because he could not talk to people – now as President of ADDA he talks to people all over the world about the condition and its personal and social impacts.

Duane strongly advocates for self-compassion, which involves not only self-acceptance but also self-forgiveness. He explains that there is often a stigma attached to ADHD because “neuro-typical” people tend to attach negative meanings to the ADHD condition, they are blind to the unique talents of those people who are “neuro-divergent”. Kevin Bailey, a Certified ADHD Coach, argues in his ADHD Toolbox interview, that we should acknowledge that “we’re all perfectly imperfect” and suggests that adults with ADHD could employ his strategy of acting “as fast as I can, as slow as I need”. His interview with the Wired for Winning video podcast relates his experience of “otherness” as a neuro-diverse, black person with ADHD and Autism.

Duane counsels us that everyone’s ADHD is different – he comments that his daughter’s ADHD “is different to mine”. Accordingly, it is not possible to offer a precise solution for an individual adult for managing their condition, there is, in his words, a “group of solutions” that others have found helpful and can be used as personal experiments to see what works for you.

Duane strongly recommends the social support offered by a community of people with adult ADHD such as that offered by ADDA, the largest such organisation in the world. Not only does ADDA provide resources but it also facilitates exchange between members so that people can share their stories, the manifestations of ADHD in their lives and the solutions that have worked for them. This is similar to the healing power of storytelling embraced by the Creative Meetups hosted by the Health Story Collaborative (HSC). Duane suggests that organisations such as ADDA help adults to “take your ADHD and discover it for yourself” – facilitating the process of learning, experimentation, making adjustments and continuously applying new learning.

ADDA provides a free monograph which offers what it calls, 5 Pillars to Manage Your ADHD:

Learn self-acceptance
Take control of your life
Get enough sleep
Avoid over-committing
Engage a support system

Duane’s interview for the ADHD Toolkit, Why Entrepreneurship is a Great Match for ADHD, can be found here.

The metabolic approach to managing adult ADHD

Mel in another podcast interview with Dr. Chris Palmer, Harvard psychologist and author of Brain Energy, explored the metabolic approach to managing adult ADHD. In the podcast, The Truth About ADHD in Adults, she delved into metabolic health issues as the root cause of mental health disorders. This led her to a discussion with Chris about key elements impacting metabolic health such as nutrition, sleep , exercise and other lifestyle elements – all of which can negatively impact brain functioning when they are lacking or inadequate.

Chris argues that an elimination diet over two weeks could help to identify what foods you are sensitive to, e.g. dairy and gluten (which could lead to brain inflammation). He contends that metabolic health (and associated brain functioning) can be improved by increasing protein intake, lowering carbohydrates, eliminating alcohol and smoking (vaping) and undertaking daily exercise (even Cardio 2 level exercise – e.g., light jog, hiking, swimming).

Chris maintains that children with ADHD internalise the messages they receive at school and elsewhere, e.g., “you are a “problem child”, and this negatively impacts their self-esteem, both in childhood and adulthood. From his research, he contends that 50% of people with ADHD have “more than one diagnostic label”, e.g., Autism, Bipolar Disorder, and 10% will develop Schizophrenia.

Reflection

Gaining knowledge about ADHD helps us to understand better the challenges faced by adults with this condition. It can help us to develop greater tolerance of their hyperactivity, messiness, disorganisation, inability to concentrate, poor time management and incapacity to “remain on task”.

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Image by Chen from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Surrender: A Pathway to Gratitude

In the May Creative Meetup, sponsored by the Health Story Collaborative, we focused on the theme of “surrender”. The discussion proved to be both inspiring and insightful with participants freely sharing their wisdom born of their lived experience of dealing with chronic illness or disability. One area we looked at was the act of “letting go” of what is holding us back – our old beliefs, self-doubts, negative self-stories, fears, and expectations of ourselves and others. Associated with surrender, too, is the possibility of shedding an identity that no longer works for us.

Another sub-theme was that of “giving up” as Lily Tomlin comments, “to give up all hope of a better past”. It also means accepting ourselves “as we are” with all our foibles, mistakes, deficiencies, hurts, disappointments, losses and limitations. It involves accepting that we are not perfect and, in the process, opening ourselves to life’s challenges and vicissitudes. It is about achieving equanimity through acknowledging the fragility of the human condition. Our facilitator for the Meetup, Jennifer Harris, shared a passage from Jeff Brown in which he encourages us “to celebrate how far we have come”, noting that the “river doesn’t ask itself why it is not an ocean”.

Negative self-talk – an impediment to creativity

In their book, What Happened to You?, Dr. Bruce Perry and Winfrey Oprah point out that personal trauma can lead to a distorted worldview, sensitivity to cues (triggers) and negative self-messages. In reflecting as part of the Creative Meetup process, I realised that my adverse childhood experiences contributed to my sense that I was “not good enough” and, at times, that I was actually an “impostor”.

Seth Godin, best-selling author of 21 books, maintains that this kind of negative self-talk is an impediment to creativity and the realisation of our potential. There were times in my life when I was full of self-doubt and beset with “fear of failure’ or inability to achieve my desired outcomes. I also felt discouraged by resistance to organisational changes or innovations I was trying to create.

Seth Godin contends that uncertainty about outcomes is integral to the concept of creativity – we “go out on a limb” or “leap into the unknown” when we attempt to develop something new or introduce a change to the way things are done. For Seth, the chance of failure is always present when you are being creative. He argues that focusing on process rather than outcomes can free us from fear and enable us to explore new opportunities unimpeded by uncertainty.

Seth reinterprets the concept of “impostor” to acknowledge that whenever we are being creative the outcomes are uncertain. In that sense, we will feel that we are “fake” or not the “real thing” because we cannot guarantee the outcome – a natural sensation in the face of uncertainty. The ”impostor syndrome” can occur whether we are engaged in writing, facilitating, managing people or undertaking some other creative activity.

Gratitude for social support

Social support can take many forms and may involve groups or individuals. Sometimes it is being supported by a group, such as the Creative Meetups, where you share your stories, challenges and insights. At other times it may involve emotional and intellectual support from someone who helps you overcome fear of failure. When I reflected on the theme of surrender, I became acutely aware of the many people who have helped me during my life to achieve significant outcomes despite my ingrained self-doubts – to help me “let go” of the fear and embrace the creative challenge. This reflection, in turn, engendered a strong sense of gratitude towards all of these individuals who have had a positive influence in my life by believing in me and my capabilities. Some outstanding examples include:

My Mother, a devout Catholic, who supported my education at a private school and believed that I was destined to be a priest and was capable of successfully undertaking the relevant study and training. To that end, I joined a Contemplative Order and completed five of the six years required for ordination as a priest. However, I left before my final year owing to illness and external factors. During my training, I excelled in my studies, was exposed to the emerging fields of Existentialism and Phenomenology, enjoyed the practice of silence and learnt to meditate and sing Gregorian Chant. It was a life of incredible richness and balance – with strong group social support, challenging learning, daily prayer and meditation, sport and recreation and work on the farm owned by the Order.
Charlie Venning, my boss and mentor in the Brisbane Taxation Office, who believed in me to the point of promoting me to be Chief Internal Auditor, Manager of 90 staff engaged in collecting AUD700 Million of taxpayer revenue and, eventually, an Executive Director.
Peter Sullivan, a visionary Executive who worked in the Canberra Head Office of the Australian Taxation Office. Peter had such a strong belief in my capabilities that he engaged me over a number of years to work on three significant national projects involving the organisation-wide development of the Taxation Office. Peter always believed that I was capable of achieving more than I ever dreamed was possible.
Emeritus Professor Ortrun Zuber-Skerritt, author/co-author of 50 books, who first engaged me in 1989 to be the Government representative on the First International Symposium on Action Research in Higher Education, Government and Industry held in Brisbane. In 1991, Ortrun and I were founding executive members of the Action Learning and Action Research Association which continues today and has had a significant role in promoting action learning and action research on a global basis through World Congresses, international conferences, publications and speaking engagements. I was President of the Association for five years from 1992. Ortrun proved to be my mentor, PhD supervisor and friend of more than 30 years. When I doubted my capacity to do a PhD, she encouraged me strongly and provided me with ongoing support. I have become one of her international “critical friends” for her book writing and provided concept editing for some of her books as well as book reviews. I have also contributed chapters to four of her books and a chapter, The Practical Visionary, to the book produced to honour her lifelong contribution to action learning and action research. Ortrun is a visionary who has enviable tenacity, resilience and resourcefulness – part of her German inheritance.
Reg Revans, Father of Action Learning, I met Reg Revans in 1990 when he was a Keynote Speaker at the First World Congress on Action Learning and Action Research. Ortrun was Convenor of the Congress and had invited Reg. I picked up Reg from the airport when he arrived in Brisbane from the UK and took him to his motel opposite Griffith University. Reg asked if I could show him the QE11 Stadium, the site for the 1982 Commonwealth Games which was adjacent to the University. In 1930, Reg had represented Britain at the Commonwealth Games and won a silver medal in the triple jump and long jump. After taking him on a car tour of the site, I joined Reg for dinner at his motel and his charisma was evident to all in the restaurant – he was a great storyteller. Reg inspired everyone at the Congress and his work continues to inspire me today. I completed my action learning PhD in 1996 drawing heavily on Reg’s work and his book, The Origins and Growth of Action Learning. My colleague, Julie Cork, and I have conducted over 70 longitudinal, action learning programs for managers over the last 16 years (involving more than 2,000 managers). We are currently co-authoring an action learning book for managers based on our experience in our manager development programs. Julie, too, has been a very positive influence on me through her belief in my facilitations skills, my understanding of action learning, and my knowledge of manager and organisation development, as well as her willingness to explore the unknown and to collaborate on creating innovative programs.
Dr. Bob Dick taught me about organisation development and facilitation skills at the University of Queensland in the 1980’s when I undertook my MBA majoring in training and development. Bob had an acknowledged, unique, participative style of teaching. I have modelled my facilitation/co-facilitation of more than 1,000 workshops on his style. Bob also provided mentorship for me when I was engaged in organisation development activities in the Taxation Office over a number of years. We have also worked together to promote action learning and action research and to co-author a book on this topic. I highly value our 40 years of friendship and collaboration.
Selva and Param Abraham who had an unshakeable belief in my action learning expertise and sound knowledge of the Tertiary Education Sector. They are founding owners and now co-owners of the Australian Institute of Business (AIB) – accredited to doctoral level and the largest provider of MBA’s in Australia. During my 32 years working in an adjunct capacity at AIB (1985-2017), I designed postgraduate courses, was a member of the Academic Board and eventually, Chair of the Research Committee. I also contributed substantially to the organisation’s ongoing accreditation within the Australian Higher Education System. In my final year when I retired as a Professor of Management, I was honoured with the award of Emeritus Professor.
My State Director in the Federal Government Department of Social Security who appointed me as HRM Director as an external applicant (against the trend of internal promotions) and, subsequently, Director, Corporate Services, with responsibility for training and development, human resource management, staffing levels and pay for 3,000 staff in 30 locations across Queensland. He eventually recommended me for secondment to Griffith University where I spent 11 years as an academic.
Emeritus Professor Fals Borda of the Bogota University who believed in my capacity to co-convene a World Congress on Action Learning and Action Research, held in Cartagena, Colombia (South America) in 1997. The Congress was attended by 1,800 people from 61 countries. I arranged seeding money for the Invitations to Present; participated as a member of the International Planning Committee as well as an Expert Panel Member; acted as Coordinator of the Organisational Development Stream; and officially opened the Congress with Orlando. The occasion led me to conduct an impromptu workshop on action learning and organisational change with a group of postgraduate students who were Spanish-speaking. One of their number acted as interpreter as I progressively explained a major action learning, organisational development project that was the subject of my PhD.
Seth Godin, among other things, was the creator of the social media platform, Squidoo (2005). The platform enabled people to create Squidoo Lenes (effectively individual, modular websites) on any topic – a very strong encouragement to write and share knowledge and understanding. Revenue from the site, generated through affiliate links/modules, was shared with authors and charities. Squidoo was also an active community of writers from across the world and became the source of two of my long-standing friendships with my German counterparts, Anne Corcino and Achim Thiemermann, who were resident in America. Together we collaborated in 2011 with two resident German programmers, Hans Braxmeier and Simon Steinberger, to build the Wizzley social media site – an online community of writers still operating today. Seth and Squidoo proved to be a great inspiration for my writing and I became a “leader’ in the platform with more than 100 Squidoo lens. I then went on to create a 6-month social media training program and developed a blog and e-book on Squidoo Marketing Strategies. Seth provided personal encouragement when he featured my biographical Squidoo lens in his monograph, For the Love of Squidoo, commenting positively on my interesting career and humourous article, An Ethnographical Study of Cartagena Taxi Drivers. Unfortunately, Squidoo became one of the dead websites after a very successful run and was sold to HubPages – which proved to be a sad day for Squidoo advocates. Seth, a globally acknowledged marketing guru, has a blog on which he writes daily posts. Seth’s blog has been a long-standing inspiration for my own blog on mindfulness. I started writing posts daily too but this became too much when I had to conduct workshops in multiple locations across the State. However, since 2016, I have created in excess of 750 posts on this Grow Mindfulness blog.

I am conscious that, owing to time and space, I have not done justice to the level of influence that these people have had on my career and life. I am also conscious that I have omitted other people who strongly influenced me in a positive way such as Emeritus Professors David Limerick and Richard Bawden.

Reflection

It is clear to me that social support is critical for personal development and the realisation of a person’s potential. It also has a significant healing power. The social support, both individual and group support, that I have enjoyed over many years has enabled me to overcome some of the residual effects of adverse childhood experiences. Social support enables us to surrender – to let go of negative self-stories, to build self-efficacy, open new horizons and go beyond where we have travelled before. I can relate strongly to the metaphor, Standing on the Shoulders of Giants – an allusion to achieving intellectual and emotional progress by building on the ground-breaking understanding of those who have gone before.

In reflecting on the social support provided by the individuals who helped me to let go of my self-doubts and fear, I am filled with gratitude for their positive contributions to my career and life. Surrendering by “letting go” thus provides a pathway to gratitude.

As we grow in mindfulness through reflection on our life journey and appreciation of all who have helped us on our way, we can gain renewed strength to move forward and contribute to a better society. The Creative Meetups sponsored by the Health Story Collaborative have a key role in this endeavour by enabling writing, reflection and storytelling for health and personal development.

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Image by John Hain from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Shedding an Identity

In a previous post, I discussed surrendering to the process of shedding old beliefs. There are also times when we need to shed an identity or an aspect of one of our identities. In this context, identity relates to the way we conceive of ourselves as being different to others – it can encompass a set of specific skills or trade (e.g. an architect); a level of achievement in sport, art or literature (e.g. a writer); and/or represent identification with a particular group such as a cultural or ethnic group. There are times, however, when assuming an identity ceases to work for us owing to outside influences, often beyond our control.

Elite sportspeople, for example, who suffer a career-ending injury are confronted with the need to reframe their identity. Others may find that chronic illness or a disability makes it impossible to pursue the activities that they once saw as part of their identity. It may mean that they can no longer teach, write or act in the theatre, so they need to rethink how they define themselves or suffer ongoing frustration and, potentially, depression. People who suffer from the debilitating effects of Long Covid often find that they can no longer entertain an identity that has been a large part of their life – brain fog, fatigue, inability to concentrate and endless pain can preclude activities that they once saw as part and parcel of how they viewed themselves and their capability.

Shedding an identity is a long but rewarding process

Shedding an identity takes time and self-care. It involves acknowledging a declining competence, recognising a loss of self-efficacy and a need to address self-esteem issues. While there can be residual elements of an identity retained in the event of major life changes, there needs to be acceptance that you are no longer like you used to be in relation to the identity being shed. The challenge is to handle the change not only at an intellectual level but also on an emotional and physical level, particularly where a life time of competence building has been involved.

However, the rewards of shedding an obsolete identity are a sense of freedom, the opportunity to pursue other creative outlets, and build a new sense of identity. One participant in a recent Creative Meetup noted that leaving her corporate job (and related corporate identity and trappings) provided space for her to pursue her artistic talents – she indicated that it had felt very constraining to be “an artist in a corporate suit”.

A personal example of the process of shedding an identity

I prided myself as an “A” Grade tennis player, having won a number of team competitions at that level. I enjoyed the feeling of competence and control that I could gain from playing great tennis shots and winning games (including my own serve). Associated with this identity was a sense of agility, speed and endurance over many games and sets of tennis. I would pride myself for being able to chase down a drop-shot and play a winning shot from this position (I was a school champion sprinter in secondary school).

However, more recently I have been diagnosed with multi-level spinal degeneration, exercise asthma and arthritis in my “trigger finger” (used to hold the racquet firmly). The combination of these disabilities means that I can no longer use my “first serve” without causing injury to my back (because of the need to bend sideways), no longer play singles tennis (as a result of the exercise asthma) or hit the ball hard for a sustained period (because of the pain from the arthritic finger). I have also had to avoid net play to reduce the risk of falling or being hit in the face (where I have had multiple surgeries for skin cancers, including a melanoma – a vestige of playing summer competition in the Queensland heat). The challenge for my self-esteem is that I have gone from being a tennis player that people want to partner because of my proven competence to an aged player that some people resent playing with.

Over many years I have built up my sense of self-efficacy in playing tennis by recalling good shots that I have played during a match. I would go to sleep at night replaying different shots in my head. The net result is that I have virtually a video-tape library stored in my head that I can sort by tennis shot (e.g., backhand, volley, lob) covering shots that I have played over many years in both competitive and social contexts. The challenge to my self-esteem now is that while I can envision these shots, I can rarely execute them. As an opponent said on one occasion when I missed while playing a top-spin forehand shot down the sideline, “You must be playing from memory”. He was right, but little did he know that I had spent many hours by myself just practising that shot when I was younger.

So I have had to make adaptions including shedding the image of being a very competent “A” Grade tennis player. My adaption has involved making changes at three levels:

1. Mental

Giving up the goal of winning each shot/game (I no longer have the “weapons”)
Focusing on achieving shots that surprise my opposition as well as my partner (because of residual skills associated with my original tennis identity, e.g., being able to play different spin shots, able to “read the play”, sound positioning on the court, and an array of shots that I have learned and practised over more than 60 years). The ingrained skills acquired through conscious effort have enabled me to retain the capacity to play instinctive shots in some situations (shots that I have never practised but just do intuitively in a rally, e.g., backhand, half-volley lob).

2. Physical

No net play or running down drop shots
No smashes or first serves
No lengthy rallies involving a lot of running
No singles play
No playing in daylight (because of UV radiation and the risk of more skin cancers/melanomas)

3. Emotional

Overcoming the worry about what people ‘think” in terms of my tennis prowess (or lack of it)
Being able to rise above my mistakes when playing tennis
Dealing with my tennis partner’s expectations and/or disappointment
Coping with the frustration of not being able to play a shot that I used to play with ease.

Reflection

Shedding an identity is a multi-layered affair that takes time – sometimes it is two steps forward and one backward, particularly on the emotional level. At least I am only dealing with an identity in a recreational/sporting arena. A lot of people are dealing with shedding an identity (or multiple identities) that are core to who they perceive themselves to be, and by how they are recognised by others.

Progressively shedding the identity of a competent “A” Grade tennis player has made room for me to develop a new creative outlet in the form of poetry. Over the past few months, I have written at least eight poems of reasonable length that have caused one observer to comment, “You are a talented poet” – so something lost, something gained. This provides a new arena for me to build a new sense of competence and self-efficacy – by writing poetry and researching this writing genre as I have done through books such as Kim Rosen’s book, Saved by a Poem: The Transformative Power of Words.

As we grow in mindfulness through reflection, writing, and sharing in community, we can develop new creative outlets, build stronger emotional regulation and develop resilience to manage life’s challenges and setbacks that lead to the need to shed an identity.

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Image by John Hain from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

Surrendering to the Process of Shedding Old Beliefs

There are times when we have to shed something of ourself that we hold dear – our beliefs, our self-stories, or an aspect of our identity. Sharon Salzberg, in her new book Real Life, describes this shedding process as “the movement from constraint, narrowness and limitation to openness, connection, and freedom”. Shedding was the topic introduced by Jennifer Harris, the facilitator of our recent Creative Meetup.

Jennifer introduced the theme of shedding by sharing Harryette Mullen’s poem, Shedding Skin. Harryette likens the process of shedding to stripping off “old scarred skin” and “sloughing off deadscales”. In her view, it involves being open to vulnerability by “shedding toughness, peeling layers down”. Jennifer also introduced the words of a song by Florence and the Machine in which she sings, “And in the Spring I shed my skin”. These words from Rabbit heart (Raise Me Up) are interpreted to mean “shed timidity and become courageous”.

Shedding old beliefs

Neale Donald Walsch, in an interview with Kute Blackson for the Soul Talk Podcast, spoke at length about the challenge of giving up old beliefs. He had been told by his father not to talk to black people because “they were trash”. He sustained this belief for some time because he thought it would be disrespectful to challenge the authority of his parent. However, his own life experience as a radio host caused considerable cognitive dissonance for him to the point where he had to shed his old belief about black people. Neale found that when interviewing for his radio show the audience was predominantly black and he found that they were, in fact, “brilliant and incredible…nice human beings” and ended up having lunch with them and seeking a close friendship with one black person in particular. He had to shed his old, wrong beliefs about black people to overcome his cognitive dissonance and sustain his relationships with members of his audience.

Neale also had to shed his beliefs about women (again taught by his father) – “women should take care of the house and kids and not being paid equally, not being as bright as men”. This belief undermined his relationships with women and resulted in multiple failed marriages. His beliefs about women were constraining, limiting and narrow. It took regular relationship crises for him to challenge his beliefs and to learn to behave differently in his relationships with women. So, disconfirming evidence and/or life crises can lead to shedding wrong or outdated beliefs.

However, some people continue to maintain firmly held beliefs despite disconfirming or conflicting evidence and will defend them with overt or covert aggression. I learnt this at my own expense when I was a young manager in the 1980’s. I participated in a national conference for State Managers of Training held by the Australian Taxation Office in Canberra. At one stage in the process, an Assistant Commissioner of Taxation (2IC) joined us to provide moral support for the Central Office Training Team (who were “under fire” from the State representatives for trying to centralise all training). During the Assistant Commissioner’s presentation, I politely challenged his statement that “The Taxation Office is at the forefront of technology in Australia.” I explained that at a State level the opposite was true – in fact we were years behind the private sector at the time. I was publicly abused for my challenge to his firmly held belief (which, while no longer true, was true in the 1960s and early 1970s). His abuse was so memorable that I was stopped in the street 10 years later by a participant from another State who recalled the “abuse”.

I also learnt again painfully that people in authority can protect their beliefs by covert aggression as well as overt aggression When I was an academic, I was introducing action learning into my university and using it as a basis for my PhD research. My Dean opposed my endeavours by trying to prevent my appointment as a tenured academic as well as my overseas travel for a World Congress on action learning in Colombia (I was a member of the international organising committee). He eventually prevented my promotion to a Senior Lecturer – in the feedback afterwards, telling me that “you had the best application [because of my experience and rating as a teacher], but you are using a non-mainstream approach in your PhD research”. Action learning promotes the view that we are all “personal scientists” building expertise through life experiences and reflection on our experiences – a position that conflicted with my Dean’s belief in the expert role of academics and the role of Universities as being the “repositories of all learning”. In consequence, he used covert aggression to try to prevent my academic advancement.

Shedding self-stories

Negative self-stories can develop through the influence of our parents, teachers, peers or colleagues. These self-stories can shape our beliefs about ourself and our worth and influence our behaviours in the face of difficulties and life’s challenges. Negative self-stories can arise through traumatic experiences and are often at a sub-conscious level. Self-beliefs such as “I’m not good enough” can arise from behavioural messages of parents (e.g. through neglect, constant criticism, or extended absences). The “need to please disease” as a hidden motivator can also arise from a belief that “I’m not lovable” and “I have to be nice to be liked and not rejected”.

It is difficult to overcome adverse childhood experiences that are often behind negative self-beliefs. Tara Brach suggests that mindfulness practices (such as mantra meditation, writing and reflective conversations) can help us to loosen false beliefs about ourselves. She offers a process for investigating and challenging false beliefs about ourself. She argues that as we grow in mindfulness we can develop the self-awareness necessary to enable us to identify our habituated behaviour and to name and challenge our false beliefs. In the process, we can loosen the hold of our false self-beliefs, restore our energy and engage more positively and creatively in everyday life.

Surrendering to the process of shedding

Participants in our recent Creative Meetup discussed the difficulty of letting go of old beliefs. They suggested that the process takes time, patience and self-compassion. They discussed the movement from the pain of shedding to the realisation of potential. They suggested that the process of taking on new beliefs is uncomfortable, moving from the known to the unknown.

The rewards of surrendering to the process of shedding beliefs were valued and highlighted. They talked about “a new way of seeing”, removal of blinkers, experiencing release and empowerment, and accessing a “deeper self” and a “a new way of being”. The challenge of surrender is real, but the rewards are great.

Tara Brach, with Jack Kornfield and colleagues, offers an online course, Power of Awareness, that is designed to help us “break free from negative thoughts” to realise balance, peace and joy. They offer a mindful approach to achieving a quiet mind by bringing awareness and self-compassion to our “inner dialogue”. I have undertaken this course and found it highly beneficial.

Reflection

Lulu & Mischka in their mantra meditation, Metamorphosis, capture the essence of surrendering to the process of shedding. They encourage us to “keep letting go”, “trust in the process”, relax into the present and “stop resisting”. If we can do this through mindfulness practices such as reflection and mantra meditations we can achieve healing and a metamorphosis that will enable us to spread our wings and fly higher. This exhortation resonates with Sharon Salzberg’s encouragement to move from constraint to freedom, from narrowness to connection. from limitation to openness. I have expressed these insights in the following poem:

Surrender to Shedding

There comes a time in our life when we have to shed old beliefs.
Slough off our limiting self-beliefs,
Remove constraints on our thinking,
Break down the barriers of our defence mechanisms,
Let go and stop resisting,
Surrender to the process of casting aside what no longer works for us.

The shedding process is painful.
Discomfort with the new,
Feeling lost,
Leaving behind the known,
Moving to uncertainty,
Open to anxiety.

The rewards of shedding are great.
Releasing from constraints and limitations,
Achieving a new sense of freedom,
Moving from pain to possibility,
Discovering a new creative self,
Flowing like a river, rediscovering “Flow”.

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Image by Jonathan from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site, the associated Meetup group and the resources to support the blog.

The Healing Power of Social Support

Social support can take the form of having friends, family or other people who can be a source of support in difficult times, such as chronic illness, death of a loved one or ongoing disability. They can provide emotional, companionship or resource support and enhance our self-image while offering different perspectives on what we are encountering.

Social support can be provided through a formal social network where people with common interests come together to achieve specific outcomes such as fitness, charitable work or a hobby (as with the Australian Men’s Shed). Alternatively, they can be informal where a number of people come together on a regular basis to share a coffee and have a chat.

The benefits of social support

Julia Baird, author of Bright Shining: How Grace Changes Everything, highlights the mental health benefits of social support and points to the research that shows the “poor mental health” that results from isolation and loneliness. She refers to a homeless support group organised by St. Vincent de Paul Society that she joined and noted that there was “no pretence”, people “just being who they are”. The healing power of this transparency and normality was evident in the homeless participants developing a positive self-image and contributing from their perspective and reality.

Social support is one of the three components for sustainable recovery from trauma, along with appreciating the complex nature of trauma and its impacts and adopting a holistic approach. Research and clinical practice have demonstrated that social support builds resilience in trauma sufferers – they realise they are not alone, are encouraged to pursue their healing process, are reinforced in their healing efforts and learn vicariously from others who are experiencing difficult emotions and challenging situations. The resultant sense of connectedness contributes to positive mental health.

The GROW organisation over many years has demonstrated that mutual social support has contributed to recovery from many forms of mental illness for hundreds of people (as documented in testimonial stories by participants). The peer-to-peer support process facilitated by a nominated leader within the “lived experience” group, promotes personal development and ongoing recovery – a process that may take a number of years.

Reflection

Social support helps participants to develop a sense of being cared for as well as feeling that they can seek assistance from others in understanding and managing their challenging situation. People gain a strong sense of belonging and connectedness through sharing their personal challenges, their success strategies and their progress towards healing. They grow in mindfulness as they share their stories and write about their insights, gaining increased self-awareness and heightened self-esteem.

Creative Meetups, provided by the Health Story Collaborative, is a powerful social support system in that it combines the healing power of social support with the healing power of storytelling. Participants feel fully supported by others engaged in compassionate listening or sharing their stories of challenging situations resulting from chronic illness, disability or their carer role. The following poem expresses the sense of social support that can be gained through the Creative Meetups:

Social Support

When we share our stories of personal challenges, we realise that we are not alone.
We draw strength from others experiencing and managing more difficult circumstances.
We sense that we belong and feel connected to something outside of ourselves and our pain.
We can be ourselves, free of pretence, unencumbered by the need to be “better than”.
We build trust, savour our relationships and look forward to the next encounter.
There is something magical and disarming about the process that leads to changing perspectives and healing.

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Image by John Hain from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

Disclosure: If you purchase a product through this site, I may earn a commission which will help to pay for the site and the resources to support the blog.

Paternal Forgiveness – A Reflective Poem

Since I started participating in the Creative Meetups organised by the Health Story Collaborative I have been writing poems. It’s as if there are feelings inside me that need to get out. It reminds me of my PhD supervisor who told me at one stage of my extended procrastination, “You have a doctorate inside you, unless you let it out, it will undermine whatever you are doing.” Once I wrote the PhD, it released a whole new world of opportunity.

Over time, our disposition to forgive and our capacity to offer forgiveness to others and ourself will develop almost invisibly if we grow in mindfulness through appropriate practices, such as forgiveness meditations. The following poem grew out of my mindfulness practices and Meetup reflections:

Paternal Forgiveness

I didn’t forgive you while you were alive.
I didn’t even forgive myself.
Now I don’t know how to say sorry to someone who has passed.

You served in the army during World War 2 before I was born.
You spent four years in Changi and worked on the Burma Railway.
Shortly after your army discharge, you reenlisted.

When I was four, you left to work in Sydney and Woomera.
And served 18 months with the Occupation Forces in Japan.
There you were an “enemy stranger” in a foreign land.

In your absence, Mum was seriously ill following the birth of Michael.
You returned for two weeks to take Mum and my two brothers to Brisbane.
While baby Michael spent time with your sister before getting ill himself.

My younger sister and I were separated and left with different relatives in Melbourne.
Three month old Michael was eventually placed in a Founding Home.
When Mum returned a month later to collect the three of us, you told her that Michael had died while she was in transit.

I spent 18 months in an orphanage at the age of four while you were away.
Those were the months of my imprisonment and harsh treatment, shared by my younger sister.
Though we were separated from each other by the Institution.

Mum was only allowed by the Institution to visit us monthly.
It was only then that I saw my brothers and my sister, despite her being in the same Orphanage.
I felt isolated and alone.

When you returned from Japan, you became an aggressive alcoholic.
As a young child, I would freeze and dissociate when your rage flared.
As I got older, I would take flight by riding my push bike into the night as fast as I could.

I didn’t understand PTSD – no one did at that time.
I had not been where you had been or seen what you saw.
I didn’t see the triggered images that tormented you.

The war, the explosion, hospitalisation, capture and prison life.
You suffered the loss of mates killed in action or dying from cruelty or malnutrition while you were in Changi or working on the Burma railway.
You experienced unimaginable horrors.

I understand now that alcohol was your way to drown your pain and sorrows.
To block out the horrific images.
I forgive you and forgive myself for my harsh judgments – I didn’t understand.

It was easy to take sides when you were drunk and wasting our income.
While Mum slaved away at the local Woolies to keep us afloat.
And vented her anger and frustration at night.

As an adult, I had to take Mum away from your violence for her survival.
I was fearful at the time that you would try to find us.
As we took shelter in the small rooms at the back of a General Store.

The separation proved to be a godsend.
You both improved your lives.
With new partners eventually and a healthier way of life.

You even gave up alcohol and walked an hour every day.
On Sundays you took Mum to Church.
But we were not able to reconnect.

You had been a professional boxer, winning 20 of 22 fights.
You won trophies for tennis and athletics.
You became Player Coach of a Reserve Grade AFL team in Brisbane.

I am truly grateful that I inherited your genes.
The fighting spirit, resilience, determination and fast reflexes.
All of which have helped me in my tennis and my work and life.

I am sorry that I did not know what you were going through.
That I saw myself, instead of you, as the victim.
That I did not acknowledge your unbearable pain and unbelievable courage and tenacity.

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Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

By Ron Passfield – Copyright (Creative Commons license, Attribution–Non Commercial–No Derivatives)

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