Extreme Much? Here's another way...

I remember sitting in my therapist’s office several years ago.  Probably twelve.  Gail was everything a brilliant therapist is in my mind: accepting, compassionate, wise, firm, seasoned by her own broken story, and the kind of listener that makes you feel like you’re the only soul on the planet. 

I was in the chapter of my life I refer to as the “falling” stage.  Everything around me seemed to be crumbling and my only job was to let it do so against every ounce of my will.  She held the sacred space for that painful season to unfold.  At every break, she simply wanted to better understand me, not try and fix me.  Gail saw me.

Have you ever been in that frustrating place where the best and safest thing to do is NOT break the fall? Just surrender? Just like with surfing or skydiving, the safest way to fall is to let go and lean into the plummet.

Resisting the challenge with tension, grit, and that secret stash of Xanax bars you snaked from your mama’s medicine cabinet aren’t included.

Gail patiently taught me how to fall, over time.  Something she said to me one day, in the vortex of my despair was this: “Katie, it doesn’t have to look a certain way.  You get to choose.” 

This stuck with me perhaps more than anything she ever said.  Funny how that works isn’t it?  We remember much more poignantly how people make us feel, not necessarily what they say.  However, these are some of the few words still glued on.

Much of my struggle was existing in a world of extremes, all-or-nothing thinking—you know— either-or—black or white.  Either I would be alone and depressed my whole life with little hope for anything or I’d be Miss Perfect: married with kids, a clear cut path forward, an enviable career, oh, and liked by all.

Looking back, I’m so grateful that buttoned up idea of success stayed just that, an idea.  

Falling for me meant moving from this dualistic, binary brand of extremes and living into the open relief that life, in fact, didn’t have to look a certain way.  It could be the messy middle, or, the both-and. 

I could feel sharp depression and understand hope was available.  I could feel lonely, longing for relationship and community and know it very well may look different in several weeks time.  I could long for certainty and lean into the unknown.  Richard Rohr calls it “holding creative tensions.” 

Holding the tension between a longing and its unmet fulfillment is indeed a creative, tight space.  It looks a whole lot like faith.

Does your extreme thinking feel exhausting?  Do you find yourself awfulizing situations by projecting worst-case scenarios onto perfectly neutral possibilities? If so, I feel you. It’s a relentless crapshoot. 

I believe that old way of ‘either-or’ is how we learned to make sense of the world growing up as kids.  However, as adults that rigid mindset needs some revising.  What if we could practice a softer, more curious approach? 

Let’s lean into the contemplative, creative space that invites more possibility, yes?    

Detaching in Love

Co-dependency.  We’ve all slung that word around a time or two.  Lord knows it gets a really bad wrap, too.  Truth be told, I struggle with that word—and overall label.  Why?  Because I believe humans, by nature, are needy creatures.  Straight out of the womb, we wouldn’t make it very long without the nourishment and care of parents, guardians, and loving community.  I don’t think this is an accident.  I think it’s a beautiful model for the primal humility baked into our human expression.  It’s the purest version of vulnerability in my mind.  Survival requires connectedness in relationship.

And yet growth, maturity, and adulthood require a measure of responsibility and individuation in order to balance this developmental process, continue parenting ourselves, and truly thrive.  This process is based on loving trust built with ourselves and others. 

Sounds so easy, right? 

In my experience, not so much.  It’s a bit more complicated than a college degree, a flow chart, and a driver’s license.  This newfound responsibility of adulting, or freedom in essence, comes with all sorts of complicated emotions.  At the center of them is a deep, loud longing for acceptance—for love.  

Many of us learned early on exactly how to get this need for acceptance met by shape-shifting in order to please others.  If I do or say what makes you feel good, this in turn will give me entrance into that grand room of belonging.  Call it people-pleasing, call it co-dependency, call it whatever you want.  At its core, it’s really just dishonesty and manipulation. 

I suppose here’s where I draw the line: we all have the God-given birthright to have needs and wants and get them met by asking for help.  When I feel lonely, I need to reach out and connect with safe people.  Again, being needy is a human thing not a weak thing.  However, when our internal well-being and sense of belonging is propped up by external circumstances, especially the agenda or approval of others, that line gets blurred real fast.  

When I’m feeling insecure, I tend to slip into this brand of co-dependency.  For example, I’ll do unnecessary damage control after having a difficult conversation or interaction with a friend.  Or there’s the classic over-explaining after I’ve set a healthy boundary for myself in order to soften the blow or bypass any possible friction.   

We tend to mistake this controlling behavior for care and kindness.  No dice.  Why?  Because it’s based in fear and scarcity.  Worrying, manipulating, and controlling behavior only hijacks another’s process, and in doing so, steals their opportunity for emotional exploration and growth.  Not only that, we basically assume a God-role.  We buy into thinking it’s all up to me to move the the needle forward.  Last time I checked, God doesn’t need my expertise, well-intentioned as it is.  

As we grow in self-awareness and compassion, letting go and detaching in love is crucial.  Though it seems counterintuitive and cold, detachment is a deeply loving practice. 

How to handle disappointment

I’ve experienced my fair share of disappointment lately, as I know we all have.  Whether it’s a health scare, a broken relationship, a passed-over job opportunity, or simply the sharp blow of life’s unruly outcomes, one thing is certain: life doesn’t always go as we’d planned.  In fact, the older I get, I’m getting strangely accustomed to these hiccups.  

I’ll go ahead and put myself on the the operating table, quite literally, for a minute.  At every turn throughout my cancer journey, something went wrong.  It could have been a seamless, one and done, get the cancer out and sew her up kind of situation.  And if that’s your experience, you still earned a purple heart in my book.  But between a genetic mutation, family history of breast cancer on both sides, tidal waves of anxiety, pre-cancer cells found after the double mastectomy, chemotherapy as a result, necrosis/infection of the skin post surgery, removal of the left prosthetic expander, walking around in a body I didn’t (and still don’t) recognize for more than a year, and three more surgeries to reach the finish line (perhaps) of reconstruction, I’m over it.  

And still…

I remain convinced of the plan God’s had all along: “all shall be well,” as Teresa of Avila confidently quipped.  

Not to whip out my journal and unload on you, but I do want to share with you something that has painted me into the most beautiful landscape of life I’ve ever known.  Two words:

And still…

I was approached by a woman in Whole Foods this past week.  Due to my current corkscrew pixie coif, I have become a magnet for women who have also gone through cancer and chemo because let’s just say, they see the silhouette of my uneven frame and the pile of curls on my head and have a hunch.  And I love it.  

She asked me a bit about my story, hoping to align, and started probing deeper. I didn’t begin to know her story, but I could sense a deep sadness and loneliness in her wide brown eyes.  As I smiled and opened up, I sensed her surprise as I detailed my experience and how well I felt despite it all.  Her experience was not as positive.  There was grave disappointment and it leaked out everywhere.  And I get it.   

And still…

The grace I’ve been given each step of the way has steadied my gaze on what I DO have.  I have strength, a loving family, my faith, purpose, a job I love, the gift of a child who’s smile gives me reason to believe, and a community of committed people I don’t deserve, but cling to.  That’s what I’ve focused on.  Every day.  It’s become my most potent prescription. 

There are very few guarantees in this life.  I’ve learned to hold everything openly, gratefully.  But most of all, I consider two tiny words in the face of loss and disappointment.  They tether me not to what’s missing in the moment, but what is there.  

There will always be missing pieces.

And still… 

Tiny Changes, Massive Impact

You’ve heard the saying, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” So why have these crazy unrealistic expectations of ourselves? I have thoughts on this.

For most people, extremes are easier than balance. Unless we’ve already arrived in the vibrant land of Growth Mindset, we tend to get stuck in the purgatory of all or nothing. Black and white, dualistic belief systems keep us stuck in the rigidity of a fixed mindset.

Here’s an example most of us can relate to. You’ve indulged in way too much of Jeni’s Salted Caramel ice cream. I mean, holy dairy that stuff is like crack. You’re feeling the sugar coma set in along with a delayed wave of shame and a stomach ache.

So you beat yourself up and swear you won’t touch it again for the foreseeable future. In fact, You’ve been flirting with the idea of going Keto so this is your shining opportunity.

Sound familiar? Or am I the only one who loses all self-control in the face of temptation?

That type of all-or-nothing behavior is baked into our DNA as humans. Opening up to a growth, or responsive mindset rather than a reactionary one typically must be learned.

And yet when do we actually learn this mature approach to self-development? It’s something that has been a powerful exploration in my life as I’m a total perfectionist in recovery.

A growth mind-set is all about both/and.  

A fixed mind-set is all about either/or.

A growth mindset says,”I ate too much ice cream, I’ll choose something healthy for dinner.”

A fixed mindset says, “I ate too much ice cream. I’m going to go run six miles to burn it off and skip dinner.”

One feels kinder, more spacious...and more balanced. Unless you really just love running 6 miles with a belly ache.

A growth mindset is also built on the firm foundation of consistent, small changes, over time. It allows for doable goal setting and implementation rather than extreme makeovers in less than a week. Why? Because that kind of hustle can’t ultimately be sustained. It will likely throw us back into a yo-yo approach to relationship with self and others.

Just like when you board a plane to L.A., if the pilot is just two degrees off in navigation, you’ll likely end up in Seattle. Tiny shifts, over time, create big results.

What are some desired outcomes you’d like to see in your life right now? Give yourself plenty of time to get there and break it down into bite-size changes that will help you get there.

As always, I’m here for you if you need a little extra support on the journey.

Something you may not know about the Enneagram

In my self-care Enneagram subscription program, The Practice, I teach people to use the Enneagram as a holistic tool for self-care—one that cares for the whole person: mind, body, and heart.

This may take you by surprise. If so, you’re not alone. The ancient wisdom of the Enneagram suggests that we are three-brained beings. In fact, modern neuroscience is finally catching up to the wisdom of the Enneagram that suggests we have neural cells in our brains as well as the lining of our stomachs and hearts. That said, we have three centers of intelligence.

Why is this important to us as we practice self-care? I thought you’d never ask.

There are two big reasons this is important.

First of all, it’s necessary to bust the myth that our most important intelligence is our thinking mind. Whereas your brain is literally a genius and a highly elevated source of intellect and functioning, we must understand that living from the neck up, as we do so often, isn’t the only way.

In fact, we overemphasize this capacity and as a result, experience an imbalance as it pertains to our other centers of intelligence, equally as powerful: the body and heart.

I believe self-care is bringing balance where there is imbalance in our experience. And so, part of the invitation as we learn to apply the Enneagram for self-care is to balance out our relationships to all three centers. Essentially, to integrate into more wholeness.

Secondly, the nine types are housed in three triads that correlate to these three centers of intelligence. As a type four, I experience the world most readily through the lens of emotional intelligence. Why? Because Two’s, Three’s, and Four’s are in the heart, or feeling triad.

This helps me cultivate a more specific self-care regimen because it tells me I need to dial up my relationship with my body center—learning to drop deeper into my instinctual capacity as well as being mindful to create structure and analysis where feelings tend to run the show.

In a way, understanding the Enneagram as a holistic tool is necessary for building out a more whole and compassionate relationship with self.

P.S. Want to do a loving thing for you and go deeper into your very own self-care prescription? Sign up for the Practice today.