Archive for September, 2008

Perfection versus Moderation

Thursday, September 25th, 2008

I had to do something terribly annoying last night.  I’m sure you’ll all understand.  I had to look my husband in the eyes and say the dreaded two words: “You’re right.”  He was just in heaven, smiling and nodding and looking quite smug.  Argh!  The truth is, though, that he WAS right, and he deserved the credit.

He has always told me that I do things to the extreme, and I’ve always just brushed him off with a laugh.  He will lean in close to me and say, slowly, “mo-der-a-tion!” And then I roll my eyes and totally ignore him.  Well, if you’ve been reading my last two blog posts, you already know that he’s right, and that I’ve been back in school, learning the lesson of moderation and also the lesson of motivation.  Driven by my perfectionism, I recently drove my body right into a state of disrepair (though luckily not as much as before – I may be a slow learner, but I do learn something, at least!).

So, though my husband has been right all along, the old adage stands true – it’s really hard to learn something without experiencing it fully yourself.  Experience IS the best teacher, and the intrinsic knowledge I now hold is very clear.  I get it.  (Though I imagine I’ll learn more, on a deeper level, again and again and again.)

I pulled out a stack of books last night, reviewing some of my old resources that I haven’t read in a while.  While I would normally spread them all out and kind of read a paragraph here, a paragraph there, this time I decided to use moderation.  Instead of trying to read many books at once, I picked up just one book and focused on it.  (I know – revolutionary!)  The book I picked up is called Tired of Being Tired, by Dr. Jesse Lynn Hanley.  It’s an old friend of mine, but I hadn’t re-read it in years.

I was astounded to discover that I’d FORGOTTEN most of the important stuff in that book!  Apparently my steel-trap memory had failed me!  Upon reading the first few chapters again, I felt like purchasing several thousand copies of the book, wrapping them up in festive paper, and sending them to each and every one of you.  Unfortunately, I decided it would be more cost effective to just write about it here.  But if I could give you a copy, I really would.

Now, before I expound on the incredibly helpful knowledge I re-discovered in the book, let me give you my disclaimer.  Here’s the thing:  I read a LOT of books.  I mean, more than you can imagine, unless you’re also a fanatic about books.  What I don’t do is treat each and every one of them as gospel.  So when I talk about a book, like A Headache in the Pelvis (Wise), or The Mindbody Prescription (Sarno), I’m sharing it because there are parts and pieces I found helpful.  I have never found a book that I incorporated word for word into my life, because I am the expert on me, just like you are the expert on you.  Sometimes general concepts or overall knowledge from a book is really all I need.  Other times I do follow some of the specifics, but never all of them.  I just wanted you all to know that, in case you thought I was 100% in anybody’s camp.  I’m not.

A good example of that is the works of John Sarno, which I find helpful and very applicable in some ways.  However, there are many things I disagree with and don’t find helpful about his work, because I do think that psychology has taken leaps and bounds since Freud and incorporating that new knowledge is vital.  I also feel like Sarno is too inclined to totally ignore the body rather than respect it, listen to it, and work WITH it. But that’s really another blog post altogether.

Which brings me back to Tired of Being Tired.  I cracked open the book and re-discovered my respect for doctors who are willing to study and connect the mind and the body.  Dr. Hanley does a fantastic job of explaining the physiological results of emotional and mental stress.  I’m sharing with you here her checklist for perfectionism.

How to recognize if you are a perfectionist:

You will put any amount of energy into the details of a project, wanting everything to be just so.
You have many ambitious goals that you try to accomplish simultaneously.
You almost never finish everything you expect to accomplish in one day.
You do not feel a sense of satisfaction when you accomplish a goal, but rather you pick it apart for its flaws or you are already thinking of something else that needs to be done.
You never feel satisfied with yourself.
You are self-critical and unforgiving of your flaws.
You are compelled to work rather than do something fun.
Even when you are doing something that is supposed to be fun you turn it into a project/work.
You feel nervous taking time away from work, even if it is for family fun.
No matter what you do you feel that it is never enough.
You do not feel that you have high expectations of yourself or that you make unreasonable demands on yourself even though others tell you that you are too hard on yourself.  (Pay attention to that one, everyone!)

Yikes.  Guilty as charged!  You’ll be glad to know, though, that with Martha Beck’s tools, I’ve already begun my work on releasing this perfection drive (I’m getting deeper into it this time) and have been feeling MUCH better ever since.  I’m promoting myself right now to recovering perfectionist.

The moral of the story, here, is that whether or not you are feeling constant stress from perfectionism or from self-judgment, the result in your body can be catastrophic.  Every time you worry, your body flips the switch and enters fight-or-flight mode.  Up go the stress hormones, day in and day out.  Until you don’t have any more reserves, your body begins to lose its ability to deal with stress effectively, and you begin to feel sick.  Often, your perfectionism or self-judgment, like mine, will drive you to behaviors that are unhealthy and out-of-balance.  Even extreme, you might say.  This exacerbates the cycle, breaking your body down more.  Unfortunately, many of these activities (in my case, over-exercising, being ridiculously busy, and sleeping less) create bursts of adrenaline that are addicting.  Ah, the feeling of being alert, ready for anything, and on the edge.  I’ve given it all up for a much more relaxing creativity, and I LOVE it.  It is infinitely better.

Your particular hormone imbalance may come from this adrenal fatigue as well, and if it does, it is worth treating your body with care and attention, because your body is giving you a message.  It would like you to figure out why you aren’t treating it kindly, and then start, NOW.  If your hormone imbalance is a combination of years of stress plus peri-menopause or full menopause, then it’s even more vital to really care for your body.

I mention all of this today because there are scientific correlations between adrenal fatigue and illnesses such as interstitial cystitis, fibromyalgia, migraines, and many others.  It’s possible that you have not run across this knowledge, and if it might help you, then I feel sharing it is important.  Modern medicine is just scratching the surface of the connection between the mind, how we treat our bodies, and our hormonal systems and much of this information, I believe, will become much more mainstream at some point in the future.

I highly recommend Tired of Being Tired, and I’ll even share my other favorite book about hormones with you as well.  It’s called The Schwarzbein Principle: The Program, by endocrinologist Diana Schwarzbein. (I actually follow the plan from this book more than the other, but love the message in Tired of Being Tired.)  Read them both, do your own research, and then don’t forget to use the shackles on, shackles off check (described in the linked post) to know what’s right for you.  Be careful, though, of the siren song of adrenaline, which, if you’ve fallen into an addictive relationship with it, may make it harder to get an accurate reading.  For instance, when I thought about running, I felt a compulsion to do so and really wanted to keep going.  When I really let myself do the shackles test, I discovered that it truly felt shackles on and that walking felt shackles off.  Your essential self always knows best.

Body Wisdom

Thursday, September 11th, 2008

I thought it would be fun to update you on my self-coaching process as I debunk my belief that I need to be superwoman/perfect/something unbelievably astonishing.  (As revealed in last week’s post.)  So here we are in Week Two of me reconnecting with myself, and I have to say, I’m loving it.  The reasons I’m re-learning this lesson are becoming quite clear, and once again, I am profoundly thankful for what would seem like a “bad” or “negative” experience.  The communication between my mind, body, and spirit are being strengthened beyond my wildest dreams, and I feel a deep sense of ease spreading throughout my being as I sink into this knowledge on a new level.

The funny thing about perfectionism is that it has many little tentacles that will spread into nooks and crannies and remain hidden, causing internal stress.  This also goes for other pressures you might be putting on yourself, even if you really don’t think you’re trying to be perfect. When I first speak with clients and ask them if they are perfectionists, they often tell me no.  “Oh, no,” they’ll say.  “My house is a wreck. My clothes are not stylish. Etc.”  When we dig deeper, though, there is often what I think of as “inward directed” perfectionism.  This is a very sneaky, deeply rooted belief underneath everything, telling you everything needs to be done well, or, you yourself need to be perfect in every aspect of your personality.  It could be a belief that you need to make everyone happy or pleased, or accomplish things in order to be a valuable human being.  There are many variations – you’ll have to find your own with a little mental detective work.

These tentacles of perfectionism have claws, and they will dig into your psyche and create havoc.  Talk about 24/7 stress!  Before you decide you aren’t doing this to yourself, really pay attention to your body and when you feel tension.  If you’re sitting there, completely alone, writing your novel, for example, and you notice your shoulders up to your ears, your pelvic floor in a state of contraction, or whatever else your body likes to do – then the culprit is almost definitely perfectionism in some form.  Look for where you are worrying about what others will think of what you do, and you will uncover the source of the pressure you put on yourself.

Many of us, myself included, have proudly worn the badge of perfectionism, considering it a strength – the kind of disguised strength you confess as a “weakness” at a job interview.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Perfectionism weakens your ability to listen to your essential self, your body, and steers you completely off course.

I’ll give you a few examples from my own newfound knowledge.  Last week, I talked about my running habit and how I had started upping mileage and literally running myself ragged.  Running, itself, is a perfectly healthy activity.  I really do love it.  However, I have not been running in the spirit of joy lately. Underneath this seemingly healthy activity was the drive to be perfect – always thinner, always faster, always farther.  I was literally afraid to take a day off of running.  That is where it crossed the line from an enjoyable activity to obsessive, stress-creating activity.  Since I’m very practiced at being a detective in my own thinking, I was able to spot this before I stressed myself into an even worse state of health.

I was literally running while also figuratively running – keeping myself busy, busy, busy and even feeling busy, searching for busy when there was a lull in the activity.  I’m still rolling my eyes at myself over that one – I’ve been here SO many times.  Why?  Well, because there’s this neat little physiological response our bodies give us when we are busy like that.  Our adrenal glands pump out adrenaline and we get cascades of feel-good chemicals in our brain.  I’ve never thought of myself as an adrenaline junkie, but I’m onto me now!

So, though the adrenaline crash has been less than fun, it is quite a bit more peaceful and relaxing to reset myself back to “normal” rather than “high.”  From here I can treat my body with respect because I am able to hear its messages.  I am willing, now that I’m not driving myself forward, to check in with my body and see what it wants.  You might think that would create instant sloth-like behavior – that’s what many of my clients are afraid of when I suggest listening to their bodies.  The truth is, though, after I recuperate from the hamster wheel life for a few days, my body doesn’t really want to lie around and imitate a vegetable.  I feel drawn to yoga, walking, being outside, swimming, and a variety of other activities.  I’m not drawn to overdo anything.  My body asks for vegetables and nuts and balanced nutrition.  It requests a little more sleep.  It’s quite reasonable, actually.  A lot more reasonable than my mind!

The most amazing thing of all is simply the wisdom of my body.  Often I can access this wisdom by feel.  Does a walk feel right?  Do I really want to eat chocolate right now?  My body has the answers.  I also use a fun technique I learned from Martha Beck.  I center my attention around any part of my body that doesn’t feel well or is carrying a lot of tension.  Then I ask that part of me what emotion it’s holding or what message it is trying to relay to me.  Try it – the body really does speak when we’re willing to listen.

I tapped into this body wisdom last week, settling into a comfy chair and letting the tense areas come into my consciousness.  I asked my body what it was trying to tell me.  I was hoping for a very detailed answer of what I should do, but the body is concise and straight to the point.  It took about a nanosecond for the message to pop into my mind.

“Stop running,” my body said.  In two words, it gave me the direction I needed to return to health and happiness.  I didn’t even have to ask it if I should stop running literally or figuratively.  The knowledge was just there, in my mind, instantly.  Stop running from my own fear.  Stop running my business and enjoy it, instead.  Stop running around constantly and settle down.  Stop running, literally, just for now.  Stop running and start living, again.

Coach, Coach Thyself

Friday, September 5th, 2008

Okay, I’ll admit it.  I’m a very stubborn person.  My parents always told me this, and I stubbornly refused to admit it.  Out loud, that is.  The overwhelming evidence of my stubbornness has always been a little hard to refute.  It takes a big disruption in my life to jolt me out of the single-minded pursuit of…whatever the heck it is I’m pursuing.  I’m not even sure what I’m after, but I’m heading there with stubborn intensity.

I work hard and fast when I’m stubbornly pursuing this thing (Success?  Perfection?  Some kind of gold medal?  Who knows!) and completely ignore my body and inner self in the process.  You would think that ridiculous amounts of physical pain in a very personal area of my body would have served as a sufficient wake-up call.  While suffering from IC and vulvodynia, I spent hours upon hours learning what my body was telling me, listening to the messages of my inner self, learning how to rebuild my chi, and accepting my physical pain so I could learn what needed to be learned.  The general message seemed to be, “For God’s sake, could you just learn to treat yourself with a little compassion?”  I studiously applied that lesson for a while – at least a year, I think.  Six months, for sure.  Well, maybe three…

And then I forgot.  So my body sighed, rolled its eyes, and mumbled to itself, “Here we go again.”  Wham!  I was struck by intense Achilles tendonitis that prevented me from running, my preferred form of exercise.  At the time, I was determinedly running daily (and increasing my mileage) while also dieting and working constantly.  Oh, and I was in school, too.   The tendonitis pretty much hobbled me, forcing me to actually…get this…rest.  With my feet up!  Suddenly, struck by the irony of the new ailment, I had a light-bulb moment and went back to the compassionate self care routine I had discovered before.  This time, I kept at it for a little longer.  I think.

I know you’re not going to believe this, but you do not know the extent of my stubbornness.  About a year ago, I picked back up the running routine again, delighted my heels didn’t hurt, and started adding mileage once more.  I focused with great intensity on my coaching, put immense pressure on myself, spent my days rushing madly around working like a dog (actually, come to think of it, if I worked like my dog does, I’d be the most relaxed woman alive), and generally headed straight down the old road, AGAIN.

The early warning sign was an interesting flu that took me out for two weeks – I lost my voice and literally could not coach.  The next warning sign was the second round of the same flu – during which I lost my voice again.  Did I listen?  Did I heed my body’s messages, like I tell all my clients to do?  Ummmm…..no.  Why not?  Well, it could have something to do with that pursuit of perfection/success/gold medal of some kind…

So then my body started giving me rather embarrassing intestinal symptoms.  I’ll save you the details.  And then it threw in a daily mid-afternoon slump that left me practically unable to keep my eyes open between 4 and 6 pm.  I started getting regular headaches.  Getting out of bed in the morning felt like a huge project.  (And yet, off I went for a daily morning run – yes, yes, I am insane.)  Then I visited my GYN for that enjoyable yearly experience and admitted to him that, at the age of 30, I have been having hot flashes.  I know, hot flashes!  Crap, crap, crap!

So here I am again, back at school, learning the lesson.  For the umpteenth time. I know, however, that I am learning it on a deeper level this time.  Having coached myself quite thoroughly, I am recognizing the driving force behind my lack of compassion for myself, my utter lack of regard for my body’s limits, and my refusal to listen to all these messages.  Apparently, I feel as though I should be superwoman, mortal being though I am.  Apparently, I do indeed need to be perfect and drive myself into the ground, according to my slave driver self.  Martha Beck calls this nasty little part of our psyche the Dictator.  Mine is ruthless, obviously, and she really wants that gold medal.  Who is going to give it to her, you ask?  Nobody at all.  She is pursing a ghostly, vague ideal that is completely, totally useless.

I am listening to my body now, finally, and the message is once again clear.  Rest. Rebuild.  It’s not what you do, it’s how you do it.  Have some compassion for the physical instrument that brings you life every day despite your stubborn ignorance of its existence.  Stop putting ridiculous amounts of stress on yourself and enjoy what there is to be enjoyed, do less and love what you do even more.  Sleep.  Eat well.

I’m sharing this experience with you in the hopes that perhaps it will save you one round of classes at the University of Pain, my alma mater many times over.  Learning to truly care for yourself, to treat yourself as a whole being with a mind, body, and spirit, is vital, especially if your body is screaming at you like mine has done so many times.  Stop and look at the ridiculous pressures you are putting on yourself and recognize the stress that creates within your body.  If you listen, it will tell you.  You’ll feel the muscle tension, the anxiety, the racing heart, the feeling as though all your nerves are humming.  All you have to do is check in and follow the wisdom of your body.

And if your first response to that sage advice is something like, “But there’s so much I need to get done! There’s the laundry, the kids to feed, the husband to water – oh wait, no that’s the plant…” then allow me to offer my favorite quote from The Art of Power by author and Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh: “There is only one kind of success that really matters: the success of transforming ourselves, transforming our afflictions, fear, and anger.  This is the kind of success, the kind of power, that will benefit us and others without causing any damage.”

Because if there’s nothing left of you to give, then you might as well throw your to-do list right out the window anyway.  Your care of others suffers greatly if you do not care for yourself.  We are not superwomen.  We are mere mortals.

While visiting, my father once encountered my to-do list.  After noting its immense length, he took the liberty of adding one last item.

“Create world peace,” he wrote.

I’ve decided to wait until tomorrow for that one.