Saturday, December 3, 2022

Press On or Time for a Break?

Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels

Over the years, I’ve read or heard a sentiment expressed that if the conditions of your life are challenging, learn to love them before making any changes. Or something to that effect.

There is some merit to this idea. If I just cut and run any time I get uncomfortable, my potential for growth will be limited. Remaining committed to challenging circumstances until the lesson is learned can provide opportunities to uncover limiting fears and beliefs. And working through challenging circumstances provides valuable evidence that perhaps I can do what is hard and feel what is uncomfortable. This is one of the important ways to expand growth, overcome fears, and modify beliefs in ways that make life more workable.

But in the extreme, this concept can be equally limiting. Tolerating what should not be tolerated has no intrinsic value. Sometimes it makes sense to cut and run. Or at least take a break.

There is discomfort and there is misery. I would define misery as the condition of having pain, discomfort, or suffering triggered so frequently that there is no time for recovery. Without recovery, there is no time to reflect, to learn, or to grow.

To manage the gap between discomfort and misery, know your capacity. Growth is possible in this gap as long as there is time to recover from triggering events. If there is no time to recover, consider taking a break or releasing yourself from the commitment. Then, get curious about what got triggered.

Triggering events and circumstances occur for just this reason – to help us recognize what is in us that gets triggered in the first place. Disarming these triggers creates greater capacity for whatever in life comes our way.

 

I Only Do What I Want

When I tell my clients that I only do what I want, I get mixed reactions.

“That must be nice,” is probably the most common reaction.  My favorite response is, “B.S.!”

In a life of “have to-s” and “shoulds” it seems impossible that I might do only those things that I want to do.

Recently, a client told me that the idea of only doing what she wanted was inspiring. It gave her hope that one day, if she did enough personal development work, she may be able to achieve such a state of clarity and freedom.

But here’s the real reason I claim to only do what I want. Its a statement of fact.  Let me explain.

In his book, The Answer, John Assaraf states that we only have conscious control of our perception and behavior 2 – 4% of the time. That means that 96 – 98% of the time we are not consciously in control of what we perceive and what we do.

To give those statistics meaning, let me provide an example.

My wife and I run most mornings before the sun comes up. We wear headlamps to light the way and to be seen by other nocturnal walkers, runners, and drivers. We both listen to podcasts or audio books while we run.

I’m usually aware of my wife’s proximity to me. The sound of her footfalls, the sight of her running next to me, or of the light from her headlamp lets me know if I have gotten too far ahead of her. If this sensory input that goes to my nonconscious mind is absent, my conscious mind kicks in. I slow down, look around and let her catch up.

While running, my conscious mind is occupied with watching for raised sidewalks, curbs, puddles, and icy spots while listening to my podcast or book.

Sometimes, when she is running behind me, the light from her headlamp is translated by my nonconscious mind as an approaching car. Awareness of the potential danger takes over my conscious attention. When I look to see that it’s not a car, my conscious attention returns to watching for running hazards and my podcast or book.

I say that I only do those things I want to do because, at some level, conscious or nonconscious, I behave (act) according to my perception in the moment. That’s the way we’re all wired. When my perception changes, my behavior changes.

But I also say it because I want to remember that I choose what I do. Even if I am not consciously aware of the choice, at some level, I still choose my actions.

When you say things like, “I’d better get to work,” it seems true. But notice the energetic impact of that thought or statement. “I had better” implies “or else.” If you don’t get to work what is going to happen?  Will you be fired? Scolded? Written up? Make less money? Be judged? In this simple example, what is more true is that you choose to get to work. You choose to work because you don’t want to be fired, scolded, written up, lose money, or be judged. And what is probably also true is that you would rather get to work than continue to listen to Aunt Barbara complain about your uncle.

When you say things like, I have to turn in this report by five o’clock, notice that there is an “or else” implied. Notice that you prefer what is predictable when you turn in the report by five more than what is predictable if you don’t. Or notice how casting yourself as a victim who has no choice takes you off the hook and gives you an excuse for why you can’t go to lunch with your annoying coworker.

You don’t have to do a ton of work to realize that, like me, you never do anything you don’t at some level, want to do. If you don’t approve of what you do, take a look at the real reason you are doing it. This will move your behavior from nonconscious to conscious by bringing conscious clarity to your perception.  Once that happens, you may choose differently.

If you want to permanently and sustainably change your behavior, you will need to change your perception. Changing your perception means drilling down into the nonconscious mind to see what perception altering choices have already been made. By taking a fresh look at how you look at things, you may choose to change your perception.







What I Thought I Knew


 

I had been a mortgage loan officer for 15 years. I had survived the financial crisis and mortgage meltdown of 2008-2009 and emerged more determined, more focused, more educated, and more careful.

At my lowest point, I knew it was either time to find another career or to recommit to this one. I chose the latter and invested $2000 to attend a week-long training event for my industry.

While I was there, I met the co-owners of a correspondent lender in the city I am from. Ron and Tom were impressed with the commitment I had made by investing my time and money in the training. They sold me on their company and their vision, the compensation package, their competitive edge, and their belief in me.

While at the new company, I embraced the concepts I’d learned at the sales conference and hired a coach to help rebuild my business.

In November of 2012, I received a commission check that was more than double what I had ever received before. But I faced a dilemma. The stress of earning that money was greater than the compensation. The more business I did, the more pressure I felt. Even though I had an assistant, I still tried to control every aspect of the business from client and Realtor relationships and business acquisition to taking an application and walking the loan through to closing.

I felt frustrated about the added layers of loan approval conditions that were required as a result of the financial crisis. I felt powerless to move things along more quickly or easily in the loan process. The paperwork had increased by stacks and the regulations and processes had more than doubled. It was almost impossible to keep up with the daily changes in regulations and added layers of conditions for loan approvals.

And, because by 2010 there was such a pent-up demand for housing and loans, the dam had begun to burst with new loan applicants. However, because lenders didn’t trust the monetary system to support the process, and fearing another breakdown, they held off on hiring new processors, underwriters, and appraisers to meet the demand. The influx of new business created a log jam which resulted in frustrated borrowers and impatient, angry Realtors. I took on the entire burden of responsibility for this dysfunction.

I began to tell my new clients that by the time their loan closed, they would probably feel more like suspects than clients. And I told them that rather than taking 30 days to close their loan, it was more likely to take 60 or more days from application to funding.

As I looked at my fat commission check, I decided that my employer was to blame for my stress and frustration. I was determined to find another company with smoother processing, more reasonable underwriting, fewer layers, more support, and more competitive pricing. I put some feelers out and didn’t have any trouble at all fielding several offers and promises of greener grass.

I changed companies again. Over the next 6 months, my new employer broke every single promise. There were even more loan conditions, rates and fees were higher, and the process took longer. I quit after only 6 months.

My final move was to a regional bank where, every two weeks, the loan officers met with the branch manager and the sales manager, Mark. The meetings were informative and helpful.

It had been four years since the financial crisis. In that time, I’d had four different employers, each with a new list of loan approval conditions. I had learned to collect an abundance of documentation from my borrowers so as to provide, in advance, anything a processor or underwriter might require.

In a sales meeting one day I heard Mark, the sales manager say, “If any of you are spending more than an hour preparing a loan application before submitting to your processor, you’re taking too long. If you want help streamlining your process, let me know and I will help you.”

My immediate response was defensive. I looked around the table and realized that there were only a few loan officers who had been in the business as long as I had. That included Mark. I thought he was just being arrogant and only pretending to know what he was talking about. I thought he was completely out of touch and I was shocked he would make such a claim. I decided to call his bluff.

After the meeting, I told Mark I needed his help. My true motive was to prove him wrong. I was taking at least 6 hours to prepare a loan file before turning it in to my processor. Mark told me to call him before I began to compile my next loan file.

The next day, I took a loan application and called Mark. He came to my office and sat down to help me.

“What have you done so far?” he asked.

“I took the loan application, got an automated approval, and requested documentation.”

“Let me see the automated approval,” he said, reaching for the file.

I handed him the approval and as he looked it over, he asked me what documentation I had requested.

I went through the extensive list.

Mark frowned and asked, “Why did you ask for so much documentation? The automated approval only asks for 2 months bank statements and the last 30 days paystubs.”

I knew what the approval asked for. But I had been burned with previous employers when asked to go back to my borrowers over and over requesting more documentation for the application. In fact, it had happened with practically every single loan I had touched at the regional bank. I indignantly explained this all to Mark.

He interrupted my rant to tell me that I was over-documenting my files. He explained that because I was providing too much documentation to my processor, she was being forced to ask for even more. For each unexplained $100 deposit, a letter of explanation was needed. For each inconsistent paystub, another letter was required. If I gave my processor more up front than she needed, there were more questions to answer.

The light bulb came on. No wonder the processor seemed to be putting my files at the back of the stack. I was creating extra work for her. No wonder the other loan officers seemed to be able to get their loans closed more quickly.

Mark left my office. Later that day, the borrower provided the documentation I had requested. I put the file together and submitted it to my processor in less than 30 minutes. That loan was approved by the underwriter in a few days with no additional conditions. The appraisal and title report came back within two weeks and the loan was at the escrow company and ready to close a week before the contract date.

Here’s what I learned.

What has happened in the past can be helpful in preparing me for what is happening now. The past can deepen and broaden my experience. But unless humble wisdom is exercised, the past can become an unnecessary burden to carry.

I learned to ask for help even when I don’t think there is a solution.

I learned that what I think I know sometimes gets in the way of what is actually so.

I’m no longer a loan officer. I retired in 2015 to become a life coach. And I bring the lessons learned after 17 years in the mortgage business with me into my coaching business. I benefit from those lessons and so do my clients.

The ACA Laundry List, Trait One


 hoto by Amine M'Siouri from Pexels

About 40 years after Alcoholics Anonymous was founded, a new recovery program was created. Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families (ACA or ACoA) was created to provide support for members of the Alateen program. Alateen is part of the Alanon program and is for children under 18 years old from alcoholic families.

Normally, these 19-year-olds would just drop out of 12-Step recovery or continue in the Alanon program with members as old as their parents. But the problems experienced by the children of alcoholics are different than those of the spouses and friends of alcoholics.

In the late 1970’s, a group of aging out Alateens decided to start their own meeting and called it Adult Children of Alcoholics. At first, the program fell under the leadership of Alanon. But this group of young adults wanted autonomy and struck out on their own.

A long time AA member, Tony A. helped craft the ACA 12-steps to fit the Adult Child dynamic. Over the years, the ACA program has grown. There is now universally accepted literature shared by ACA groups all over the world.

One of the first pieces of literature developed was a list of Adult Child traits which became known as the Laundry List.

I am an Adult Child from a dysfunctional alcoholic family. I find myself in every one of the Laundry List traits. Here is a link to the list found on the Adult Children website. https://adultchildren.org/literature/laundry-list/

In my coaching practice, the majority of my clients can relate to at least a few of the Laundry List traits.

In this article, I will tell you about how I relate to trait number one, “We became isolated and afraid of people and authority figures.”

When I was 19 years old, I moved out on my own. A friend had suggested that we share a house together and I was ready. By then I had been drinking for a couple of years but not like my parents and I was sure that I would never smoke cigarettes or do drugs.

When I drove away from my family home for the last time, I felt a tremendous relief, knowing I would never have to deal with the fear and insecurity I had lived with my entire life. I mentally brushed myself off and knew that nothing that happened in my childhood would stick. I was my own man, was making my own choices, and I was determined to choose better than my parents.

Within two weeks, I began smoking cigarettes and weed and started dating my first wife. Two years later, I had a  nasty amphetamine habit.

My roommate and I had parties at the house every night. We went through cases of beer and lots of weed. I felt completely intimidated by the strangers who came in and out of our house but was able to tolerate the discomfort with the help of alcohol and other drugs. It also helped to keep a guitar between me and everyone else. I was always the entertainment for the party. By performing, I was praised and, thanks to the barrier the guitar provided, I felt safe.

In every other part of my life, people intimidated me. I did all I could to avoid contact with people and experienced a lot of anxiety when having to deal with supervisors at work.

In the first dozen or so years of sobriety, I continued to fear people and authority figures. Eventually, I began the work of healing my childhood wounds and now feel comfortable and confident around people including those in authority positions.

The fourteen traits help people to identify with others who were raised in similar homes. With the support of the fellowship and literature of the ACA program along with professional help if needed, it is possible to recover from the impact of growing up in dysfunction and even trauma.

I thought I could just walk away from it all and that I wouldn’t ever have to deal with the poisonous and toxic environment I was raised in. But instead, I recreated a life as an adult that mirrored the one of my childhood. Thanks to therapy models like Internal Family Systems (www.IFS-Institute.com) and other trauma therapies, along with 12-step programs and support fellowships, I have broken the cycle of family dysfunction.

If you read this entire article, maybe you grew up in a toxic family too. I broke the cycle and so can you.

Fixing the Unfixable

 

Photo by Thiago Matos from Pexels

Many who grew up in scary and unsafe homes believe they are broken and unfixable. Here’s what I believe. You, me, and everyone else were born as perfect, whole, and complete human beings. But some of us were born into lives that had to be survived. For those of us who have learned how to endure, tolerate, and survive life, there doesn’t seem to be any other possibility. Part of the way we survived was to make up what was wrong with us to explain why we were treated the way we were. Making ourselves the cause of a painful life gave us hope that maybe we could change enough to reduce the fear and pain. We came up with strategies to survive that worked. But those same strategies that were necessary at one point in our lives make it impossible to have any other kind of life now. So the strategies have to be dropped. That’s not an easy thing for two reasons.

  1. Because these strategies are all we know, we use them exclusively. If we knew another way to live, we would live that way. But we don’t. So we automatically and unconsciously repeat the same patterns and continue to live lives that must be endured, tolerated, and survived.
  2. Because our survival strategies are unconscious, we can’t just decide to change and expect to sustain the effort required to keep trying to think, feel, and act differently than we are programmed to think, feel, and act.

This is what seems unfixable. How, when everything we have ever tried fails, do we fix the unfixable?

Here’s what I have learned.

How I think, feel, and act brings about the conditions of my life.

I think, feel, and act according to what I believe is true about me and about the world I live in.

I think, feel, and act according to what I believe about the people in my life, about my safety, about my value and worth, about my potential, about my intelligence, and about what is possible for me.

If I can change what I believe about all of this, my thoughts, feelings, and actions will change AUTOMATICALLY AND EFFORTLESSLY.

When I say this is what I learned, what I really mean is that this is exactly what I have experienced. I have had my personal power restored. I have recovered my true Self and I get to live a life now full of choices, full of joy, full of connection.  I have a fulfilling life and so can you. There are many paths to this reality. The only thing to fix is what you believe. Everything else will take care of itself.

Texting Trigger

 

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

When I woke up Friday morning I checked my phone and noticed a preview of a text which included the words, “you are lying to me.”  I assumed someone must have been drunk texting the wrong number. “This should be fun,” I thought.

So I began reading the text and realized it was in fact, meant for me. Immediately, my body tensed and my conscious attention became laser-focused on the text message. 

Someone I recently met misinterpreted something I said. Rather than checking it out with me to clear it up, they assumed that I had malicious intent. This person had apparently been offended by something I said and had been stewing on it. Their message was packed with venom.

As I read through the text a second time, I immediately began to formulate a plan to permanently cancel my relationship with the sender. 

Over the next minute or two my mind traveled to how I could block them on my phone. Then I considered how I might respond with a text message of my own. I wondered if there was any truth to what I was being accused of. I searched the memory of our conversations to find a clue as to how they may had been offended. I imagined defending myself. I wanted to help them understand so they could feel better. I thought about how to set clear boundaries.

I imagined the offended person telling my friends what I had done to them. My mind traveled to the free support groups I had invited this person to and I thought about how to prevent them from joining in the future.

I continued to process the text. I saw them in my mind and imagined how much they must be suffering to strike out in the way they had. I remembered just a couple of weeks earlier when the texter had publicly acknowledged me for being kind and patient.

Then I thought about the parts of me that were reacting to the texted words and noticed how familiar this experience was. I felt curious about what was happening in my mind and in my body. The moment I focused on my internal process, my body relaxed.

When I read the text Friday morning, a cascade of internal reactions automatically occurred energetically, physically, emotionally, and mentally.

My conscious attention was almost entirely on the text. My energy spiked, my muscles tightened, and my mind raced. I felt hurt, angry, sad, and scared.

The emotions of this automatic internal reaction were unpleasant and I automatically considered all the options for restoring a sense of safety and calm.

I was introduced about four years ago to Internal Family Systems (IFS) which taught me there are parts of me that react to the circumstances of my life. I learned that rather than trying to control those reactions, I can get curious about them. Since then, I’ve gotten to know and understand myself in a way that I never had before.

IFS (www.IFS-Institute.com) is a therapy model that helps me work with automatic internal reactions that influence or control how I show up in the world. I’ve learned that these internal influences are responding to current circumstances based on incomplete, unresolved, painful experiences from the past. Until these past experiences are completed and healed, I automatically react to circumstances that trigger my unresolved pain.

The emotions I felt as I read the text were from unresolved, painful past circumstances from my childhood. Each of my thoughts were strategies to corral the emotions. The activation of these emotions and thoughts altered me physically as I prepared for a phantom threat.

The offended texter lives across the country and had sent the text two hours before I read it. There was no actual threat.

If I hadn’t been learning about myself and healing with the help of an IFS therapist, reading that text would have been the beginning of a dramatic series of reactions that may have played out over days, weeks, or months. 

My reactions to triggering events create the dysfunctional patterns of my life. Understanding that I, as my True Self, am capable of internal leadership through awareness, curiosity, and compassion breaks up dysfunctional patterns.

Healing, completion, resolution, and inner harmony are possible when developing a relationship between Self (as IFS refers to the True Self) and my parts. Developing this relationship updates the parts of me that have been devoted to holding the energetic pain of the past as well as the parts of me that have been so busy managing that pain.

When life provides a triggering event, my unhealed parts get activated. Until four years ago, I was not aware that I could interrupt these automatic reactions. Now that I know that I am greater than the sum of my parts, I can shift my focus from the triggering external event to my internal family. Once I shift, I am able to bring curiosity and compassion to the parts of me that need my attention and break out of the automatic re-creation of past events.

I have been using IFS to help complete my past for a few years now. I sometimes remember how hard I had to work in my life before I began to heal. I remember my jealousies, resentments, judgments, hurts, biases, reactions,  shame, embarrassment, depression, and anxiety. I am infinitely grateful for how easy life has gotten now that I know who I truly am.

Healthy Skepticism

Image by PicsbyFran from Pixabay

My family had moved again, this time to Great Falls, Montana. When I learned we were moving, I felt both fear and relief. The previous year had been traumatizing and I was happy that we were moving. But Montana? I had never even seen a mountain.

After I had spent eight years in a Catholic school in Topeka, my family moved to Kansas City to be closer to the airport. Dad had been placed on the fast-track to get his own division for a consumer finance company and was required to serve as a branch office auditor for at least 12 months. The new job had him flying all over the country where he would show up, unannounced, and audit one of the company’s hundreds of offices.

I rarely saw him anymore. He flew out on Sunday nights and returned Friday nights. At 14 years old, I had become the man of the family and I think he resented me for it. Or maybe he was just too tired to notice me anymore. Whatever connection we’d had was lost.

When dad was home, he was busy compiling auditor reports, was drunk or getting drunk, and had wildly unpredictable and violent mood swings. In the meantime, mom was in the habit of popping valium while drinking a half a gallon of vodka every day.

Due to the heavy pressure from dad’s family, five of my siblings and I were enrolled in Kansas City Catholic schools. My older sister and I attended Lillis High School where we found ourselves in the racial minority. I was constantly bullied.

When dad was promoted to supervisor of the Montana division a year later, we moved 1200 miles away to Great Falls. I completed my high school years at the public Great Falls High School. Because we lived too far to be under the watchful eye of dad’s family, I no longer had to attend church or go to Catholic School. I decided that I was done with church, with religion, and with God.

My decision was without consequence until nine years later when Sarah, my first child was born. My wife, Lori wanted her to be baptized and I objected fiercely. Lori had been raised in a Christian family and believed in the bible and in baptism. I saw religion as hypocrisy and manipulation and wanted nothing to do with it. Eventually I compromised. Both our daughter and son were baptized.

Although Lori wanted to attend a Christian church, I refused. I dug my heels in and refused to subject myself to what I judged as meaningless and mindless rituals and magical thinking.

By the time I was 27 years old, our marriage was in real trouble. I had always felt insecure, sure that one day Lori would realize the mistake she made by marrying me. She began to pull away and started attending Alanon meetings; a 12-step program for loved ones and family members of alcoholics.

After being invited to an AA meeting by the manager of the pizza parlor where Lori worked, I got sober. While I found great comfort in the community of AA’s membership, the 12 steps presented what felt like an insurmountable challenge. AA asserts recovery from alcoholism is dependent upon a willingness to turn your life over to God.

As my accrued daily sobriety count increased, my commitment to grow my consecutive days of sobriety grew. At practically every meeting I attended, I heard about the importance of finding a Higher Power and trusting my sobriety and my life to that power.

There was absolutely no way that I would turn my life over to the phantom God of my childhood. But AA’s Higher Power loophole and the support of other members who had found relief in belief helped me continue to put some effort into finding and trusting some power greater than me that could help.

I am still sober over 38 years later. But it took me 20 years to come to terms with an understanding of God that works for me. After my first two decades in AA, I was finally able to separate God from religion and church. There had to be some way to explain the many blessings of my life.

My ability to let my guard down and accept that there is a Source that most folks refer to as God was a huge relief.  By then, my first wife had died of a brain tumor. Over the next 10 years I remarried and, after hitting an emotional bottom, I divorced my second wife. In desperation I became willing to consider the remote possibility of a loving God.

I had been abstinent but hadn’t yet found emotional recovery. I understood that while abstinence was a great start, it only put me in the waiting room for actual recovery.

I found the beginnings of emotional recovery when I discovered The Work of Byron Katie. I also read several books, attended workshops and seminars, participated in Landmark Education, got a therapist to help with my childhood trauma work, and hired a coach.

13 years after my divorce, I met my current wife and realized that I had recovered enough to attract an emotionally and mentally healthy partner. My recovery had created the internal space to relate to her transparently and authentically.

A few years ago, I started attending meetings for Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families. I appreciate the support of ACA but there is still a spiritual dilemma for me. ACA is a 12-step program. That means that at the core of the program of recovery is a reliance upon a Higher Power.

The dilemma is this. Reliance upon a Higher Power didn’t get me sober and it didn’t help me to recover. Yet I stayed sober and recovered. Often, when I talk in an ACA meeting, people are attracted to the idea of having the kind of life I have. But I didn’t get my recovery in ACA and my path to recovery doesn’t match the ACA path.

I don’t pray and I don’t meditate. But I have found access to a power greater than myself. That access is available any time I view my life through the clear lens of True Self.

When my perspective is clouded by those parts of me that are unhealed, I lose access to the higher resources of wisdom, intuition, clarity, compassion, love, and joy.

My only access point to my higher power and the resources available from that source is through my True Self.

I’ve noticed that the better and more empowered I feel, the more I show up as the very highest version of myself.

Equally true is that the worse and more disempowered I feel, the less capable I am of responding gracefully to the circumstances of my life.

So how do I solve my dilemma? The truth is that in my own way I have surrendered to my higher power. While this may sound like the words of a beaten man, the exact opposite is true.

When the unhealed parts of me are running my life, there is tremendous efforting. I endure, tolerate, and survive life.

When I am living as my authentic, True Self, I feel energized and life flows.

To live as my True Self, I have committed to taking whatever actions necessary to heal myself. As I do, the healed parts of me come into harmonious balance and integrate with True Self.

For me, trusting a Higher Power means surrendering to being who I really am. Healing what is wounded inside me creates a safe space to enjoy a connection with the power and source of the higher qualities of being.

 

For more information about Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families, go to www.AdultChildren.org