Inviting the Positive AND the Negative In

Happy four days after Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you've all had a wonderfully resting and relaxing holiday filled with joy and turkey or tofurkey!

So, I seem to be on a poetry kick lately because I was listening to a lecture on mindfulness and psychotherapy the other day and was struck by this poem they included by Rumi.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes 
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows, 
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out 
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent 
as a guide from beyond.

~Rumi

It's quite a beautiful poem, no? And it can also be some really good advice. Our natural instinct is to run towards pleasure and happiness and run away from sorrow and pain. But what if I said that sometimes, if not alot of times, it's by embracing and confronting the negative that you can become more okay with it, less anxious, and decrease its impact on your life? We've all heard the phrase, "running away from your problems," and we all know that typically those problems tend to catch up with you if they were ever even gone for a moment to begin with. A lovely side product of embracing the negative as well as the positive is that over time the negative seems to diminish a bit, leaving you generally happier than you were when you were desperately clutching at happiness. It can be tough to do and feels a bit wacky to think of actually embracing or welcoming with open arms our trials and tribulations. Often we put so much energy into denying those things or pretending they aren't there, all the while living with the anxiety that they may rear their ugly heads tomorrow. How much of a relief might it be not to have to expend all that energy in fear and instead directing it towards dealing with our pain and suffering. Try it and see what might happen. Oh, and let me know how it works or doesn't work out for you!

Self-Absorption

It feels like I've been saying "get out of your own head" a lot these days.

Anxiety can be a pretty pervasive concern for a lot of folks. Many times, we can boil anxiety down to a constant litany of negative self-talk in our brains which dictates our behavior and our emotions. The daily "I'm not good at this, I'll never succeed at this, Why would someone think I'm good?, I'm going to fail, I'm not going to say the right thing, I screwed up, I'm too fat, I'm too skinny, I'm not smart enough, Why me?, etc, etc, etc. There's a lot of "I" and "Me" in those statements.

I'm reminded of a poem I once read by Thomas E. Brown:

If thou could'st empty all thyself of self
Like to a shell disinhabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
And say, 'This is not dead,'
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou art all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes, He says, 'This is enow,'
Unto itself - 'twere better let it be,
It is so small and full, there is no room for me.'

Now obviously, there is a strong religious intent to this poem, but if we were to take the religion out of it but keep a sense of the spirituality or interconnectedness with the world around us or even replace "He" with "Life," it can take on meaning for everyone.

If we could just empty ourselves of Self; get out of our own way, then might paths open up to us that were hitherto unseen? (Yes, all of a sudden I've developed a floweriness to my writing.) If we could get out of our own heads, who knows how much Life we could be living - in the present moment? It's those times when I've been least concerned with myself that I've felt like I'm most fully living. How often do you think you're truly living?

Dealing with a Loss

I was at the office yesterday meeting with clients when I received an email from a former coworker at the gym at which I teach yoga classes. It was entitled, "Sad News." Sad news indeed, I found out that one of my coworkers, a personal trainer at NW Sport and Health, had died yesterday in a freak accident while on his way to work. A tree branch had fallen, knocking him unconscious and caused such grave injuries that he passed yesterday morning. Ben was a wonderfully sweet and happy man, generous with his smiles and warm personality. Even when I first met him, he went out of his way to make me feel welcome and a part of the Sport and Health family. I'm so deeply saddened and shocked that such a good, kind, and young man was snuffed out so suddenly and so completely. Added to this, I also learned that his father had died just a month earlier and having been an only child, I can only imagine what his mother is going through now.

I prepared myself to teach class this morning, not knowing if/how class would be affected by the shocking news. As the students filed into the class, a somber mood permeated the room and we ended up having an impromptu chat session about thoughts and feelings. Many of the women, mothers themselves, found themselves weeping in support of Ben's mother. I related to the ladies that Ben himself had been in training to become a yoga teacher and had found joy and peace in the practice. We decided to dedicate our practice to his memory and closed the class with a quote: "Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people stay for a while, leave footprints in our hearts, and we are never, ever the same."

The shocking and sudden nature of Ben's death reminds me of Steve Jobs' Stanford commencement speech back in 2005. It reminds me to live every day to the fullest. To experience, in the present, each day, moment by moment. I can't say it any better than he did, so I'll paste some passages from his speech here and encourage everyone to breathe and truly live.

Excerpts from Steve Jobs' Stanford commencement speech, 2005:

"When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. 

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything, all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

{...}

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

Homework: Read this Article

Hey there folks, I seem to be on a blog posting roll this week. Probably because this course I'm taking is endlessly thought provoking!

So, I came across this article on Psychology Today and am very interested in responding to it and posing some questions and statements on the differences between Western and Eastern philosophies that makes acceptance of mindfulness so difficult for us at times. But before I do that, I thought I'd give you all a chance to read it so you'll know what the heck I'm talking about!

Happy reading! (Also, I have no idea at all why the lines of the article following are highlighted. My limited technical skills have been trumped on this one, my apologies if it's bothersome! Just head straight on over to the article, it's much more pleasant to read there!)

Pumpkins, Burning Leaves, and Apple Picking, oh my!

I fully recognize that my next statement may be quite polarizing and controversial.

Source: http://www.naturepicoftheday.com/archive/2008-11-05

I LOVE FALL; especially because it means the end of summer!!!!

Okay, go ahead, call me names, I can take it and I won't back down. For me, it's quite the toss-up of what I like better, fall or spring. The thing is I'm pretty sure I like winter a smidge more than summer too. (feel like I should have whispered that last sentence)

Anyway, beginning yesterday there was that particular nip in the air that heralds the coming of fall. Don't get me wrong, I love sand between my toes and diving into an ocean wave, but I hate mosquitoes, sweating, moving from air-conditioned box to air-conditioned box, feeling lazy because the heat has sucked the energy out of me, and not being able to run outdoors. (Some people still run outside in the dead of summer, God bless the crazy fools!)

Today I went to Starbuck's and got my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. I sipped all that yummy goodness while taking a stroll in my neighborhood park under blue skies and crisp sunshine. I had long sleeves on, jeans, and sandals. True and utter bliss. I took in the sounds of the kids playing, checked out what might be ripe in the community vegetable garden, felt the slight breeze on my skin; everything felt more colorful, more rich, even my coffee tasted better! Now that I'm thinking of it though, maybe this is also due to the fact that I've just started a "Mindfulness and Psychotherapy" course. In my experience as a therapist, I've learned to doubt that events are just coincidence. Most often, when something feels different within, especially if it seems out-of-the-blue, something else coincides with it, and that other thing ends up being the source of the change, whether positive or negative. The following is a scenario that happens more often than not during a session:

Ten Years Later

Yesterday morning, I settled into my seat on the Metro on my way to a meeting and opened up the day's Express newspaper. The issue delved into the effect that 9/11 has had on people ten years later. I hadn't thought too terribly much about 9/11 in recent years but as soon as I read only the caption of the picture I found tears pricking at my eyes. I paused to get myself together (I was on the metro after all), continued to read and got about three sentences in before I could feel a for-serious "ugly cry" welling up! First of all, I should say that I am not a crier. I used to wonder if I didn't have as much depth of emotion as others because of my general lack of tears. So, the fact that my emotions are still so close to the surface when I'm reminded of 9/11 is, in a way, surprising. Needless to say, I decided to tuck the paper back in my bag to be opened again in privacy later.

Phew! What a week...

Okay, this post doesn't really have much to do with therapy or wellness, but I'm feeling the urge to write and share, so apologies if I end up boring you! This past week has been one interesting roller coaster, right? It all started on Tuesday at around 1:50PM. I was at my kitchen table working on some invoices for my practice when all of a sudden I thought I'd been transported through space back to NYC right next to or on top of a subway line because the whole house started to shake and I could hear a slight roaring sound. Then I realized that no, I'm still in DC and the sound and the shaking are getting louder and worse, could this possibly be, gulp!, an earthquake?!

What's in a name? That which we call a "therapist"...

So a couple of months ago, a client shared with me that when she speaks of me to friends, she calls me her "special friend." (I was given permission by the client to share the following story.) One day, she was relating to a friend what she had learned about herself in a recent session and her friend responded, "I wish I had a special friend!" How awesome is that?! Hahaha!

Training Update

Don't want to leave you all hanging! Since my last blog post, the running has gotten back on track and today (drum roll please!), I ran 7 miles!

Annapolis Ten Mile Run 2010

Now it wasn't all sugar and spice and everything nice. My knees are hurting right now; evidence, I think, that I haven't been training perfectly consistently lately, but I'm okay with that because though my legs were nearing deadness, I think I could have run at least another mile. I'm running this race for the fun and fitness but also, for vindication. Why, you ask?

It's All Part of the Process

So I might have mentioned that I signed up to run the Army Ten Miler this October in Washington, DC. Training has been going fairly well for the past two months or so, I've been pretty diligent at following my workout schedule and have gotten to a peak of 5 mile runs. Let me take a moment to point out here that I am not a "runner." My body type doesn't scream runner, you know, long and lean, willowy yet strong. (Someone told me recently that he thinks I have the body type to be a really excellent weight lifter...this does not sit well with me, admittedly.) I'm not particularly fast, I'm more like the tortoise than the hare. I plod along at my comfortable 10:00 minute miles, putting one foot in front of the other, soldiering bravely through what is sometimes great and sometimes just plain awful. Today was the latter, boy, was it the latter.

I ended up taking a week off from running due to travel plans for a friend's wedding so today was my first day back since last Tuesday. I knew it was going to be a bad day. First, I can be a creature of habit so the fact that I was off for a week means bad news for my sense of motivation, meaning I had none, so it took Herculean strength to get me off the couch. Second, it's been a while so I had no idea what my legs, lungs, and stamina were going to be like. As I type this, I realize that I may have psyched myself out a bit. Running is such a mental game! Anyway, I got on the treadmill (on what feels like the hottest day of the year!), pressed the button for random so that I'd get a few hills on my way, and set off on my run with the goal of 5.5 miles. At mile one I'm thinking, hey, this isn't so bad! I'm not in pain and 10 minutes have already gone by! By mile 1.2 I started to rethink my newfound positive attitude as I started to feel hives develop on my legs. Hives you ask? Well, I've self-diagnosed myself as having an allergy to cool temperatures on my skin when my heart-rate is elevated. I have an exercise-induced cold allergy. Some people are so allergic to cold that they'll break out in hives when they touch ice to their skin. Fortunately, I'm not like that, plus, usually after a few weeks of exercise my body starts to acclimate and I no longer get so uncomfortable. But in the beginning stages it can be so terrible that I have to take antihistamines. Weird, I know. Anyway, now I have hives and the hills are starting to tax my quads, heart, and lungs. Did I mention the side stitch? Sigh. Anyway, I decided to throw in the towel at mile three. Double sigh.

I walked home pretty discouraged feeling like a bit of a failure, but as I cooled off in the blessed air conditioning in my apartment I reflected on the fact that I did manage to get up off the couch today, I will get my legs back under me, and that perhaps I'm missing part of the point of all this training. I've become so focused on the end-goal that I'm forgetting to appreciate the process. There's certainly no such thing as a steady rise to the top. Everyone has to hit road bumps along the way at some point, whether in exercise, career, or relationships. And sometimes it's the hiccups in the pattern that give the finished product its value and its unique quality. So here's to celebrating the victories, be they large or small, and viewing setbacks with perspective, compassion, humor, and a renewed sense of vigor.

Hey Mom! I wanna do some down dogs today!

I read an article in the Post today about children and yoga and it got me reflecting on the evolution of yoga in the United States. Yoga has gotten increasingly popular in Western societies over the past couple of decades. I remember the first yoga class I ever attended in the spring of 2000 in New York City, it was an incredible experience (which left me more sore than I've ever or ever will be in my lifetime!). In the class with me were all different kinds of men and women - dancers and gymnasts, body-builders with necks the size of my waist, unathletic enthusiasts with perhaps a bit more round the middle than usual, as well as some average Joes/Jills. Though the class was so diverse, it was still more likely than not that most of the people I knew had never set foot in a yoga studio. Fast forward to today where yoga has become almost cliche, it's so ubiquitous. Take a walk through Dupont Circle on a weekend and chances are you'll see a few men and women toting around yoga mats wearing Lululemon gear and drinking chai.

Yoga has also done quite a bit of branching out since 2000. Some of it, like the new trend of incorporating your dog into your yoga practice, has me raising an eyebrow in bemusement (if I could raise one eyebrow that is!). Others, like pre-and post-natal yoga and kid's yoga has me excited to introduce yoga to my future children! How exciting that kids can learn about the simple use of breathwork to calm and soothe oneself through the fun medium of kid's yoga classes. And let me tell you, kid's yoga is fun! Kids are encouraged to activate their imagination and use their bodies in creative and healthy ways developing, almost incidentally, a greater awareness of the connection between the mind and body. In a way, kid's yoga seems almost more akin to the heart of yoga than adult classes. In many adult classes, it's the pose that becomes the focus along with a sense of one's flexibility or physical strength rather than connecting on a more simple level with the sensations in one's own body.

Since kid's yoga is such a new concept in the West, I wonder if anyone has thought to do a longitudinal study on the effects of yoga at a young age during childhood through adulthood. I'd guess that kids with a regular practice in yoga or mindfulness meditation might have a stronger self-soothing capabilities and an increased ability to focus, but I'm biased. Sadly, as the budget steadily shrinks regarding things that relate to well-being, I'm guessing federal funding for a project like this is unlikely. Maybe Lululemon or Gaiam will take up the standard? Hmmm, that's a thought...!

I thought this was the best bit from the article from the Post entitled, "Raising a Generation of Children on Yoga:"

D.C. resident Stephanie Donne, 45, introduced both her sons to yoga as babies, but she was still amazed to hear from her 6-year-old’s schoolteacher that he’d been offering up yogic wisdom to classmates. “One day a kid was upset, and Eli said, ‘You can om. I’ll show you how,’ ” she says.

Ummm, how awesome is that?!?!

Spring Awakening

Just about three weeks ago, the steadily longer days and balmier temperatures inspired me to refill my window boxes with some lovely fresh herbs. It was a long, barren winter without something green around the house and I was excited to watch my babies grow. So, I went out and bought a few seedlings of rosemary, thyme, oregano, and basil. I planted them, watered, fertilized, and talked to them frequently and watched them grow and grow and grow! Here's a picture of them right after planting:

Not really sure why the thyme and oregano are pretty much just laying down, maybe wind or they're just tired? (hehe) Oh, and you can just barely see the rosemary peeking out from behind the basil. I'm thinking rosemary and garlic mashed potatoes, lots of fresh tomato sauces with plenty of basil and oregano, thyme-scented roasted chicken...yum! Using fresh ingredients that I've grown and cared for in my "garden" lends so much more flavor and romance to my cooking. So, the point of this post is because I couldn't help but show off my lovely herbs in all their glorious abundance even just three short weeks later! So, here they are!

By now, the basil has completely covered up the rosemary, so...

                  Here it is! Aren't they all so beautiful?!

Cultivating Patience, kind of

"Patience and fortitude conquer all things." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Tcha! What does Ralph know? Okay, maybe he might be right, at least some of the time, but the simplicity of his statement makes it seem like a no-brainer. I consider myself to be on the greater side of patience, I can sit with a six year old and teach him to tie his shoelaces over and over and over again with humor and calm. But there are some times when it feels like having patience is to be superhuman, a feat reserved for the likes of comic book heroes, of whom, I am most certainly not. I'm a go-getter, generally speaking I make goals and I take the steps to accomplish those goals. But it's the times when it feels I have almost no control over either the process or the outcome that I'm most desperately impatient. I know, I know, it's called letting go. Tcha, again!

So Ralph isn't my cup of tea in this, what about:

"Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things - with resignations, yes but, above all, with blazing, serene hope." - Corazon Aquino

I think I can kind of get with Corazon on this one. He acknowledges that patience can sometimes hurt but he counters that hurt with hope. Hope fuels the will to keep the faith despite any bumps or bruises along the way. But hope can feel pretty dim as well every once in a while. How do you rebuild your hope? For me, sometimes, it can be as simple as cooking a meal. This might sound weird, but I really like chopping stuff. So today, I made a hand-chopped basil pesto. You might think this is time consuming and arduous. You would be right. But there's something about the total sanity in chopping the garlic, basil, and pine-nuts that brings a sense of peace and calm to my soul. There's a realness to making a meal - putting the ingredients together, timing things just right, cleaning as I go, tasting for seasoning, and realizing a final beautiful and scrumptious product to nourish my body and my senses. And all of a sudden I realize the anxiety I was holding seemed to melt away in my focus on the task at hand. Maybe now I'm in a better place to be able to see some hope and grasp at it with hesitation at first and tenacity in the end. At least, until next time.

Cultivating patience seems to be a never-ending pursuit. As soon as you feel you've achieved it, life throws another curve-ball at you that pokes, prods, and tests it. Either you choose to give in and give up or you pick yourself up off the floor, dust yourself off, tell the worries to shush, and do your darnedest to re-capture that elusive hope. Good luck friends, I'm right there with you.

Defining Your Own Life

I was reading the Post this weekend and came across a letter awash with sadness, tears, and loneliness from a woman seeking advice from Carolyn Hax, the Post's relationship guru. In the letter, a self-reported stable and active woman tells a tale of woe in which she is almost asking Hax for permission to settle with a "just-okay" partner in order to alleviate feelings of loneliness that are wracking her very soul. The full letter and Carolyn's response can be found here.

I liked Hax's response to the letter. She writes, "You’ve evolved, your life has evolved, your desires have evolved, and your family has dissolved. Please don’t apologize to anyone — yourself least of all — for rewriting your definition of attractiveness to reflect a basic and duly recognized desire for steady companionship."  How true it is that we can allow ourselves to hate peas when we were young and develop a newfound love for them as an adult. But when it comes to what we look for in a partner, it's harder to give up the same criteria we used from when we were still dreaming about Prince Charming. But this is a somewhat loaded topic, there are plenty of people who have very polarizing views on the concept of "settling" and may have statements to make about lack of self-love, confidence, self-esteem, and insecurity, and many of those responses might be true for a horde of other people dealing with similar issues. The take-away message from this post is that it's okay to feel the way you feel, to be who you are, and to behave in the way that makes you most happy. You shouldn't have to apologize for valuing security over passion or vice versa. Accept your own definitions, your own meanings, for your life!

Self-Care

Oludeniz Beach, Turkey

Recently, I was feeling a bit sluggish at work. Responding to emails a little slower than normal, putting off filling out invoices, being a bit more haphazard with my accounts, etc. I started to notice the signs and symptoms of work exhaustion, known in its most severe form as the dreaded, "Burn-out." (Cue ominous dun-dun-duunnn music.) I wasn't quite at burn-out levels, I still enjoyed my job, still found joy and reward in my weekly sessions with clients but I didn't have that same level of vim and vigor for my practice that I had earlier in the year. All very self-aware of me to notice this, no? Well, I'll confess that it was somewhat brought to my attention when I was conducting a group clinical supervision session for a couple of graduate-level social work students. I was inquiring as to the students' level of burn-out and exploring what self-care strategies they had devised for themselves, if any. Which of course got the mental juices working and I slowly came to the realization that I, myself, have been neglecting that all-important concept of "self-care."

Self-care sounds just a bit too cheesy and jargon-y for me which is probably why it's not really in my normal vocabulary, but admittedly it gets right to the point. No matter what job you're in and no matter how much you love it, there will likely come a point when you find yourself to be inordinately tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, by the mere thought of getting up in the morning and going to work. The red light blinking on your phone fills you with dread because you just know someone, or likely several someones, has left you a voicemail with tasks, requests, and possibly criticism.

Come Tomorrow

I'm guilty. I'm guilty of putting things off until the last minute. I've been this way my whole life. Procrastination, it feels like a weight bearing me down until I am almost crushed. But at the same time, I'm infused with a sense of responsibility and integrity. Procrastination and responsibility do not go hand in hand, in fact it's more like they are in constant conflict with one another. Why can it feel so impossible to begin, much less finish, a necessary task right now rather than tomorrow or the next day or the next until all of a sudden you're far behind and have to climb out of the hole you've dug for yourself? What would have been easy to do today becomes nigh impossible when you finally get around to it. It's not like I'm unintelligent, I'm fully aware of the argument for being timely with tasks I'm not so excited to accomplish. And yet, somehow I manage to convince myself time and time again that this time, it's not a big deal, I really can do the job tomorrow and be completely fine. I read a blog post today on Huffington Post written by Sadhguru, an Indian philosopher who founded the Isha Foundation which administers yoga centers around the world. He writes about the phenomenon of procrastination in a beautiful way that I never thought of before.

Quality vs. Quantity

The most popular article on nytimes.com right now discusses the changing face of psychiatry in the United States. A psychiatrist tells a sad story of how his practice has changed from one of care and careful attention serving individual patients with names and stories to one of cold efficiency administering medications in a veritable factory of nameless faces. Dr. Levin laments the loss of humanity in his practice due to the nature of health insurance reimbursement. In psychiatry, insurance companies will not reimburse physicians for their time spent getting to know the patient's life and narrative. They pay a set amount per quantifiable action which is often valued quite cheaply forcing physicians (and mental health clinicians) to pack as many patients into as short a time as possible in order to make a living and pay off education and training loans. This makes developing a personal relationship with patients next to impossible which in turn leads to decreased job satisfaction on the part of the healthcare provider. Perhaps this system might make some sense for conventional medical doctors, but a psychiatrist must depend in large part on the personal side of appointments to come to an accurate and appropriate diagnosis and consideration of treatment options.

Psychotherapists who do not prescribe medication, bill insurance companies for the cost of a 50-minute therapy session and often have to fight with insurances to authorize mental health treatment and obtain reimbursement in a timely fashion. The back-and-forth phone calls with insurance companies - being transferred from one operator to another, put on hold, and receiving conflicting information from different people - is arduous, time-consuming, and frustrating.

HIV and Mental Health

I was recently approached by a writer for Yahoo's Associated Content to answer a few questions about HIV and mental health in children and youth and it's been published at this link.

Here's a good chunk from the interview, let me know what you think!

What type of a mental and emotional impact does HIV on a child?
"A child who is HIV positive has to cope not only with his or her own uncertainty of their future health but also their parents' anxiety. The stigma associated with HIV makes it extremely difficult for the child and their family to be open about the illness to relatives, friends, and loved ones. In fact, in many cases, the child him or herself may not be aware of their own diagnosis. As a therapist and social worker, I met many mothers who were concerned their child would let it slip that they were HIV positive or that someone in their family was HIV positive to teachers, school friends, or fellow church goers. The burden of holding such a painful secret follows the child through each of their milestones particularly as they enter adolescence and the world of dating and the inevitable questions of sexual intercourse. It's not uncommon for HIV positive youth to be dealing with depression, suicide, anger, and self-imposed isolation."

How can a child with HIV cope with their condition?
"First, parents or guardians can create an environment that actively refutes the stigma of HIV, whether or not the child is aware of his or her diagnosis. When the parent feels the child is old enough to have good judgment regarding disclosure of the diagnosis to others, it is important to very sensitively and carefully explain the HIV status to the child and allow the child to ask any and all questions he or she might have particularly surrounding the concept of mortality. Make it clear to the child who he or she can turn to for support and make certain these individuals are prepared and able to answer tough questions. Families may find that there are support groups for HIV positive children and their HIV negative siblings at their hospital or clinic, which can provide an outlet for youth to talk with peers who have a unique understanding of one another. There are also many summer sleep-away camps that have medical facilities on site to care for children with illnesses, allowing these kids to have a typical summer camp experience that they may not have been allowed to have otherwise. It's important for the child to be given opportunities to be a kid, first and foremost."

What type of professional help is available for a child infected with HIV?
"Unfortunately, the answer to this question is somewhat dependent on the personal financial resources of the family. For youth who can afford it, they can certainly seek out a psychotherapist who can be a non-judgmental sounding board, someone who the child doesn't have to worry about worrying. Therapy can help the child to develop strong, positive coping mechanisms and encourage self-esteem even in the face of societal stigma. However, youth with limited resources may not be able to access mental health services so readily. Particularly now, when public and foundation funding is moving more and more towards prevention and away from direct services. It is becoming more difficult to find qualified professionals in non-profits who provide free or low-cost mental health care. Moreover, health departments often pay more attention to the mental health needs of adults over children, again, limiting the resources available to HIV positive youth."

Wanna talk to Amy Chua?

Guess what DC? Amy Chua is going to be Politics and Prose doing a book signing and answering questions. If only I was going to be in town for this! But sadly, no. Anyone interested in heading over, checking it out, and reporting back?!


For more details on her appearance here in DC, check out this link.

Great Expectations

I saw an interview a while back with Amy Chua, the woman who wrote, "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother." It seems that people are getting mighty huffy about the book and what she contends is a commendable style of parenting. And I happen to be one of those people. I have several disclaimers before I continue any further.

1. I have not read the book
2. I am not a parent
3. I don't always know what I'm talking about though I might think I do.

Given all of that, I'm still going to get up on my soapbox here and you're welcome, as always, to disagree with me if you choose.

For those of you who haven't heard of the book, check out an article Chua wrote for the Wall Street Journal entitled, "Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior." From what I gather, the book is a personal memoir of a journey through motherhood (though it does seem to be a bit premature of a memoir as her oldest child is only 15 years old). Her style of parenting appears particularly harsh in an American environment. For example, she didn't allow her children to have playdates, called them names like "garbage," told them they were lazy, cowardly, self-indulgent, and pathetic, were not allowed to not be top of their class in all subjects but gym and drama, etc., etc. However, she also states that she does all that she does because of her love and dedication to her children and is quick to lavish praise on them when they succeed. And due to her "motivation" and their natural gifts and talents, they are often in a position to receive praise because they usually do succeed. Apparently, the book takes a slightly ironic tone in which Chua mocks her own extremity and perhaps learns that her way is not always the best way by the end of the book. But even keeping her own personal journey in mind, it does not seem that she would change anything she did in the past. At the heart of things, she feels that her style of parenting is preferred over what she defines as "Western" parenting.

As you know, I'm a Korean-American born in the United States of parents who immigrated here from South Korea. Some things I read in Chua's article and from what I heard from her interview were a bit familiar, for example, I grew up playing piano and violin. Almost every Asian kid I knew played piano and violin as well, though there were a few outliers that played the viola or cello along with the piano. There was even one girl who, gasp!, played the clarinet! While each one of us was encouraged to practice daily by our parents, it was pretty rare to find any parent who forced their child to practice through the night at the age of seven and when a piece was too difficult, call their child "pathetic!" We were all encouraged to excel and hopefully be the best but were also allowed to be in school plays, have friends, participate in sports, etc.

One of the first things I did after learning about Amy Chua's book was to call my mother. Her response to Chua's article was that she understands where she is coming from but that she created almost a caricature of her style of parenting. Note, I don't say "Chinese" or even "Asian" since I know plenty of people of different race and ethnicities who pushed their children to succeed in a manner that was perhaps above the norm. My mother and plenty of other Asian mothers believed that academic excellence is paramount to future success and certainly harped on it over and over again. Likely, most Asian mothers tend to be a bit more strict with their children based on their cultural viewpoint and do push their children to work hard at school. But she also valued supporting my interests and encouraging me to become a well-rounded individual with academic, athletic, musical, and social skills. Like my mother said, Chua employs an extreme view of parenting and most Asian mothers sit on a bit of a spectrum of parenting that usually does not go so far as calling their child "worthless." So, in that vein, I feel like we're all paying a bit too much attention to her memoir. While it may seem like she's speaking for all Asian mothers, she's not.

I get a bit huffy with her statements that her style of parenting is preferred over others in molding children to become successful adults. She goes so far as to suggest that her style of parenting is indicative of almost greater love and sacrifice than a more permissive style in that she, and others like her, are willing to roll up their sleeves, grit their teeth, and tough out the pain all for the sake of her children. I commend her dedication but question her conclusion that children parented in her style won't ever result in anxious, traumatized, socially-inept adults. I searched for Chua on Wikipedia and found out that not only is she a Yale law professor but her sister is a Stanford professor and another sister holds two Special Olympics medals! Clearly, she's got some good genes. I would also venture a guess that she wouldn't choose to marry an unsuccessful, less-intelligent man. The results of their union are predisposed to be pretty genetically gifted. Which makes it possible for her to demand of her kids, not just excellence, but superiority over her classmates. So her parenting style has resulted in kids with straight As who have won music competitions, bravo! But where I look askance is how she suggests that this style of parenting would be effective for all children. If your child just isn't as gifted, then what is setting impossibly high standards going to do to that child during youth and afterwards in adulthood? Having high expectations of your children is certainly a positive thing and it's important to encourage them to do their best, but what happens if your child doesn't become a violin virtuoso and you continue to tell him or her that they're just being lazy or self-indulgent. That child never has a chance to succeed in the face of his or her parents and their self-esteem plummets. Quite possibly, they become anxious and depressed adults. You can't always will your kids to be musical prodigies and straight-A students, you have to take your child's talents and gifts individually and nurture them as they come. Yes, it's important to believe in your kids and yes, sometimes, you have to push them beyond what they might themselves be interested in doing, but it's also important for your children to believe they still have your love and respect even if they get a B+ on yesterday's math test or flub a measure in a piano composition.

Being a parent isn't easy, I'm amazed at my mother's strength and fortitude, mentally, emotionally, and physically. And it's because of my mother's support and love that I am who I am today.

Genetic Predisposition for Depression?

I've often been struck by how prevalent depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder, addictions, etc are in the extended families of clients suffering from one or more of the above. From a purely non-scientific observational basis, I've conjectured that somehow mood disorders may be a genetic trait passed on from generation to generation. Today I came across an article from Science Daily that suggests new and overwhelmingly supported research that identifies a connection between a gene and an individual resilience to painful emotional traumas. University of Michigan researchers found, "The U-M analysis supports previous findings that individuals who had a short allele on a particular area the serotonin gene had a harder time bouncing back from trauma than those with long alleles." This news may be very welcome to individuals suffering from depression on anxiety for a couple of reasons. Firstly, this illuminates the possibility for more effective medical treatment and prevention for mood disorders. While there are scores of folks who take medications currently available and have great success with these pills, there are many others who are unable to tolerate side effects or simply do not gain as positive effects from the meds as others. And secondly, it could prove a relief to some people that their suffering may have a biological foundation. Many people dealing with depression or anxiety feel powerless and ashamed at their inability to control their own emotions. To those on the outside, it's easy to wonder why one's loved one isn't able to just "snap out of it." The depressed individual is left feeling judged not only by others but by him or herself. Effective self-soothing and coping skills that come so easily to others simply may not be as accessible to individuals suffering from depression due to differences in genes. Clearly more research is needed and we're a ways off from being able to take practical measures to prevent or treat mood disorders from a genetic level, but it's a heartening start!

Resurrecting the So-Called 'Depression Gene': New Evidence That 

Our Genes Play a Role in Our Response to Adversity

ScienceDaily (Jan. 4, 2011) — University of Michigan Health System researchers have found new evidence that our genes help determine our susceptibility to depression.

Their findings, published online in the Archives of General Psychiatry, challenge a 2009 study that called the genetic link into question and add new support to earlier research hailed as a medical breakthrough.

In the summer of 2003, scientists announced they had discovered a connection between a gene that regulates the neurotransmitter serotonin and an individual's ability to rebound from serious emotional trauma, such as childhood physical or sexual abuse.

The journal Science ranked the findings among the top discoveries of the year and the director of the National Institute of Mental Health proclaimed, "It is a very important discovery and a real advance for the field."

To read the rest of the article, click here.

A Knitting Project, Done!

Happy New Year! After a good, long break (with a little bit of laziness thrown in), I'm back! I thought I'd share with you all one of the projects I've been working on this winter. From as way back as I can remember, my mom always had some knitting, sewing, or crochet project tucked away in her sewing basket. I used to dig into her basket eyeing the needles with care and examining all the little bits and pieces stuffed away in their separate nooks and crannies. I would recognize bits of fabric from when my mom had made me a Peter Cotton-Tail costume for a kindergarten play or my Halloween costume of 1984, 1985, and 1986. (Note, I used the singular in reference to my costume of three years. Apparently, I loved the satiny blue silkiness of my "angel" costume in 1984 that I decided to be a princess in the same costume the following year, and a fairy the year after, haha! Since it was much easier than making a new costume year after year, my mom was fully on board!)

When I got a bit older and started playing the piano, my mom worked on a beautiful crocheted piece that rested on top of my upright piano. She would tell me the story of how she managed to learn how to knit and crochet. Back in Korea, when she was in nursing school, she found a piece of knitting someone had accidentally left behind in the clinic waiting room. My mother painstakingly examined the stitches, undoing and redoing, undoing and redoing until she had it figured out. For those of you who knit, you'll share in my awe and amazement! All of this of course made me itch to learn how to knit, but inevitably my mother would give me a firm no and tell me to study. In my adult years, after graduate school, I finally decided to teach myself to knit (armed with books, knitting friends, and youtube videos). Knitting, as you may remember if you've been following my blog for a while, is an excellent activity for relaxation and stress relief. Though of course it can also be a bit frustrating when a pattern doesn't appear to be working or you're under a gifting deadline. But for the most part, this repetitive, creative, and productive activity will likely give you a sense of peace and calm.

Well, getting back to the project I've just completed. I had decided to try out a beautiful pattern for fingerless mittens by Eunny Jang that can be found here. These Endpaper Mitts, as they're called, were to be a gift for my boyfriend. He's from Pittsburgh so, of course, he asked that they be black and gold to represent (what else?) the Pittsburgh Steelers. After much trial and error and those ever-so-essential youtube videos, I finally figured out the Italian tubular cast-on, the Kitchener Bind-off, and a couple of other new knitting tricks. The pattern is beautiful and I have no doubt that there are a number of mistakes in the mittens I made but I like to think of them more as autographs than mistakes! Each little mistake says, "Handmade by Cindy." Ha! I like the idea of fingerless mittens because they keep your palms and wrists warm while still allowing for dexterity and use of fingers. I was thinking they'd be good for typing on computers in cold offices and playing Angry Birds on the phone while waiting at the bus stop. He thinks they're also good for playing on the PS3 in a chilly house. So, without further ado, here are a few pictures of the beginning stages and the end product! (All taken with my phone so I apologize for the quality of the pictures.)

In the beginning

My mom is the hand model here, halfway done with mitt one.

And the final product on the b.f.

Playing video games.

And now I'm onto my next project, a lace scarf for a colleague!