Would it be shady of me to start this black, white, & gray post with this?
Would it be shady to share a definition of the all-too-human tendency for black-and-white thinking and a suggested antidote to that common cognitive distortion?
Black-and-White thinking.
Things are either all good or all bad, people are either perfect or failures, something new will either fix everything or be worthless. There is no middle ground; we place people and situations in “either/or” categories, with no shades of gray, or allowing for complexities. Watch out for absolute words like “always”, “never,” “totally,” etc. as indications of this kind of distortion.
Thinking in Shades of Gray. Instead of thinking in all-or-nothing terms, evaluate a situation on a scale of 0 to 100. Instead of absolute words like “never”, “always,” and “completely,” substitute modulated words like “seldom”, “often,” or “somewhat.” Consider the concept of “good enough” (e.g., “I am doing a good enough job at this”).
Yesterday, during (and after) a conference on innovation in medical practice, I looked for shades of gray among the blacks and whites.
It’s good to be open to color, too.
What are your gray, black, white, and colorful thoughts about an appropriately shady song for this post?
I found that very becoming, because I was already thinking about how things can become other things, like a spoon becoming a pen …
… caring becoming worry (and vice versa) …
… a slinky becoming something else…
… “busy” becoming other things…
… and my work computer screen becoming upside down, yesterday.
I was also thinking how Larry David had no trouble becoming Bernie Sanders on SNL this past Saturday, but had unexpected trouble becoming George Costanza (a character unbecomingly based on himself) on Curb Your Enthusiasm.
I believe it is becoming and healing to let go of shame, guilt, fear, worry about the future, regret about the past, and outdated thought patterns. However, as many becoming people have said in my office,
That’s easier said than done.
I know that, but saying the change can be the first step to becoming it.
Today, I will not be coming into the Boston teaching hospital where I work as a psychotherapist. Instead, I will be coming to a conference on innovation in medical practice.
Who knows what will become, on this day in October? I know this: another blog post will be coming your way, tomorrow.
I am becoming grateful to every person, place, and thing that helped this post become what it did today. I’m becoming especially grateful to you — of course! — for becoming, here and now.
In my work as a psychotherapist, I invite people to think of themselves and their lives as works in progress. I hope that creates progressive room for people’s progress in healing, patience, acceptance, and gentleness with self and others.
Yesterday, while I was not at work and I was looking at other people’s work instead, I saw this:
That’s Deb, whose colorful hair reflects the progressive work of Mia, our wonderful hair artiste in Watertown. Deb and I were working on our breakfast, at Flour Bakery in Boston, when I took that picture and saw more works in progress, including this:
After breakfast, Deb and I progressed to the Open Studios, where we saw some progressive works by Jenifer Mumford.
Jenifer told us about somebody who had progressed into her studio the day before and had turned around the work hanging on the walls, declaring “These look better like this!”
Deb and I thought it was quite progressive and kind of Jenifer not to tell that guy what a piece of work he was.
After we talked to Jenifer, we saw some wonderful work by my ex-business partner Jonathan Stark, whom I worked with in the 80s and 90s, creating progressive corporate videos and other advertising/marketing work.
That’s Jenifer Stark, Jonathan’s lovely wife, who does amazing work creating fabrics and clothing. Jonathan and Jen got married in 2010. Good work, Jonathan and Jen!
Here are some other works in progress we saw yesterday at Fort Point Channel, Boston USA:
Actually, I saw that last work at a supermarket in Waltham, Massachusetts last night. Do you think powdered peanut butter is progress? If not, what progress do you see here?
A year from now, my son and I will probably both be in water towns, although not the same one. In this year before my son goes away to college, every little kiss, word, and moment with him seems even more precious.
Thanks to my son, to Bruce Hornsby, to water towns everywhere, and to everyone who helps me water these daily posts with love — including you!
As I’m typing this “So Close” post, my cat Oscar is SO close to me. My phone is NOT so close, so close down any expectation of seeing an in-the-moment photo of that. However, this other photo is so close to my current experience, that I’ll share it:
I hope Oscar’s not so close to biting my fingers — as he often is when he’s so close while I’m so close to my blog, every morning.
Oscar likes to get so close to me and my boyfriend Michael, every day. He’s also fearless about getting so close to strangers, vacuum cleaners, and our downstairs neighbor’s dog, Faxy.
Oscar’s behaviors are not so close to other cats I’ve been so close to.
I know there were other reasons why I chose the title “So Close” today, but I’m not so close to remembering those, right now.
Was it about being so close
to cold and snow, here in Boston, Massachusetts?
to collecting data to publish an article about my therapy groups?
to putting down a deposit on an office which is so close to my home, so I can do even more therapy groups, which are so close to my heart?
to finishing my thesis for a masters in Film Studies at Boston University in the 1980s, but never completing it?
to superstar Jackie Chan, at a fan event in the 1980s, when he was so close to becoming so famous in the U.S. (instead of just being the #1 movie star in Hong Kong, China, and other major parts of the world that are so close to us)?
to singing sensation Clay Aiken in a 2007 performance of the musical Spamalot on a Broadway, because I was the lucky audience member sitting so close that I was chosen to come up on stage and be so close to the action for so close to 10 minutes?
Because I’m so close to quoting Wikipedia whenever I’m so close to Oscar and to my keyboard, writing my daily posts, I shall now insert this quote about the musical Spamalot:
A large stone block showing a combination of letters and numbers is also revealed. (The letters are based on the seat numbering system used by each theatre. They are changed from performance to performance to discourage audience members from intentionally booking any of the possible seats. The seat is typically on the aisle in one of the first few rows nearest the orchestra. In the Broadway production and on the tour it is either A101, B101, C101 or D101; i.e., Seat 101 – which is house right of the center aisle – of Rows A, B, C, or D.[3] In the West End Production a word is revealed – DONE, CONE or BONE, referring to D1, C1 and B1 respectively.) After pondering the final clue, Arthur admits that they’re “a bit stumped with the clue thing” and asks God to “give them a hand”. A large hand points to the audience and Arthur realises that the letters and numbers refer to a seat number in the audience. The grail is “found” (with some sleight of hand) under the seat and the person sitting in the seat is rewarded with a small trophy and a polaroid photo. (“The Holy Grail”).
Because that quote is not so close to capturing how much fun it is to be so close to the actors on stage during a performance of Spamalot, here’s a photo so close to me:
I am so close, but yet so far, from why I initially started this “So Close” post, which is this:
Last night, two items for side-position sleeping were so close to me as I was so close to falling asleep. Throughout the night, I was so close to retrieving the side-positioning pillow and the McGyvered backpack I’ve been using. But I never did.
Why, sometimes, are we so close but so far from taking a small action we know will help us?
Are you so close to leaving a comment, at this point?
I am so close to finishing this post, but I still haven’t included any photos I took yesterday, when I was so close to all these things:
Now that I’ve shared those all-new images, what music am I so close to including here?
Inspired by one of the photos so close, above, I am taking the small action of resharing this video, where Tom Waits is so close to sounding like the Cookie Monster:
I am so close to laughing whenever I watch God’s Away on Business, created by somebody who is so close to being a total genius.
Now, I am so close to finally finishing this post! Here’s another all-new photo, from yesterday:
… which caused many ideas to blossom, in the garden of my mind.
I — likeStephen Stills and others — need “a place I can get to, where I’m safe from the city blues.”
I like to see people as flowers — requiring nourishment, water, light, room to grow, and fertilizer (which is sometimes, inevitably, other people’s crap).
Despite a previous infestation of soil gnats, I have two surviving plants in my office, which might not make a garden, but I’m glad they’re there.
I do groups in my office, where mutual support helps people open up like flowers (to themselves and to each other).
While I listened to “Johnny’s Garden,” I noticed gardens everywhere, even among the city blues.
What’s growing in your garden, today?
Blossoming thanks to Stephen Stills, to Johnny, to people who heal in groups, to gardens everywhere, and to you — of course! — for being open like a beautiful flower, here and now.
Four day ago, I wrote a post called “Positions” in which I took a negative position about being positioned next to medical machines at night. As I positioned in that post, my negative position about medical machines is positioned by (1) past experiences when I was a child positioned next to cardiac monitors in the hospital and (2) recent experiences positioned next to CPAP and BiPAP machines for sleep apnea.
If you position your cursor to read that previous “Positions” post, you’ll discover the position that my being positioned in a side position is a good-enough treatment for my positional sleep apnea. WordPress reader Maureen was kind and helpful enough to position a comment after that post, suggesting that I position a side-positioning pillow next to me.
Because I respect my readers’ positions, I ordered and received one of those pillows yesterday. I’m glad I’m in a position, through this blog, to thank Maureen for her help in positioning me for a better night’s sleep.
Thanks, Maureen!
Yesterday, Chris — who has been positioned before in posts including this one and this one (and who is usually positioned in the Bay Area of California ) — got into this position very close to where I hold a position as a group therapist:
Now, you might position an assumption that I asked Chris to take that position, in order to position today’s post. Actually, Chris assumed that side-plank position (also known as the yoga Vasisthasana position) on his own. He took that position spontaneously as I positioned him in front of some chrysanthemums to take that photo. Chris takes the position that mums position themselves everywhere in New England during the fall, so we both wanted to position Chris with mums in the picture.
While I was in the position of teacher and Chris was in the position of student when we first met at Boston University in the 1980s, I am now in a position to learn from Chris. Yesterday, he taught me that “asana” means “position” (or “how you sit”) in yoga.
Also, both Chris and I positioned a pun as a possible caption to that photo of him, positioned above. What caption might you position there? I’ll position our pun, later, in a comment positioned below this post.
After I saw Chris, I positioned myself, several times, to take more photos. During the afternoon, the Pat Metheny tune “Afternoon” (which has already been positioned in this previous post) positioned itself in my earphones.
After I took that last photo (which shows a position I share with William James), I positioned myself in a room with my EMDR therapist, George, to discuss repositioning my present reactions to old and difficult experiences (especially those I had when positioned in the hospital as a little girl). EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) Therapy uses lights to position your eyes, with a machine like this:
While we didn’t use that eye-positioning machine in yesterday’s EMDR session, here’s an important position George and I discussed:
Sometimes it’s difficult for people (especially women) to be in a position to connect with their personal power. I am positioning myself — through therapy, this blog, and the work that I do — to discover, own, develop, and position what power I have.
What position might you take about any position taken in this post? I hope you know where you can position a comment.
I can’t position enough thanks here for Maureen, Chris, George, Pat Metheny, and all the other people — including you! — who position themselves along my personal journey of discovery and growth.
Yesterday, because there’s just one of me and I had so many things to do, I took just one photo.
I shall take just one moment to explain just one photo: Asking just one question beginning with “What was your intent when …?” can be a helpful and effective way to respond, when just one person says just one thing you find puzzling, upsetting, or concerning.
I will give just one example of that:
Somebody: You look terrible.
Response: What was your intent when you said that?
I made just one mistake there — I remembered the title of “Just a Song Before I Go” as “Just One Song Before I Go.”
It took me just one second to forgive myself for that.
Just one comment from YouTube about that song:
“The Crosby, Stills, and Nash song “Just a Song Before I Go” was written on a dare by their limo driver that they couldn’t write a song before getting to the airport. It went on to become one of their biggest hits.”
Just one quote from that song:
Travelling twice the speed of sound
It’s easy to get burned
Because Crosby Still and Nash sing just one verse more than just one time, I think that’s just one piece of advice I’m going to take today.
What’s that just one piece of advice I’m going to take? Just two words:
Slow down
What’s just one thing you’d like to say about this post? If you leave just one comment, I’ll leave just one response later in the day.
It’s scary how much I have to do when I return to work after a three-day weekend.
It’s scary how much of my work is helping people let go of unhelpful and habitual fears.
It’s scary how sure I was that I’d written more than two previous posts with the word “scary” in the title (see here and here).
It’s scary how difficult it is to know what’s truly scary and dangerous, sometimes.
It’s scary how many scary things there are around here, in October.
Only one of those scary things pictured, above, momentarily scared my boyfriend Michael yesterday. Would it be scary if I asked you to guess which one that was?
It’s scary how many associations I have with the word “scary,” including ….
Yesterday, when my 17-year-old son Aaron and I took the opportunity to go into Harvard Square (which you might be able to envision in Cambridge, Massachusetts, USA), we didn’t envision all the opportunities we’d find there.
When we got to Harvard Square, we discovered an Oktoberfest celebration and HONK!, a Festival of Activist Street Bands. (I would have envisioned the opportunity for HONK to be an acronym, but it isn’t.) Neither Aaron nor I had envisioned the opportunity for Oktoberfest or HONK!, but there they were.
I envisioned many opportunities to take pictures, so I did.
During previous opportunities in Harvard Square, I had never envisioned a train like this …
… nor the closing of the Harvard Square Theater (where I had many opportunities to envision great films) .
I’m envisioning opportunities to share more pictures from yesterday, but first, can you envision me missing an opportunity to introduce music into this post?
Here are other envisioned images I had the opportunity to capture, yesterday:
Can you envision the opportunities if we actually enjoyed and did not destroy?
Envision the opportunities I have to thank so many who helped me create this post, including my son Aaron, Harvard Square, the HONK festival, the Leftist Marching Band, and other activist bands from Detroit and elsewhere. And allow me the opportunity to thank you — of course! — for all the opportunities you envision, here and now.
