On Shrek, Staying Present, and Taking the Long View
Tonight S and I saw the most recent Shrek movie. I don’t remember if I’ve seen any of the other Shrek movies--but I decided to suggest the outing because I’d spent all day in the garden, and it was starting to look gloomy outside for the first time since morning, and I was tired and craving an opportunity to turn off my brain and sit still. Also, all day long S and I had been bickering about little things, and while we hadn’t blown up, I knew that might happen if we either avoided each other or tried to talk. Watching a movie together, while not exactly bonding, was a good middle ground.
I can’t believe I’m going to say this, especially since I’m critical of the movie industry and how much money is spent creating movie after movie with the same basic plot line and more and more special effects (though at least I see my movies at a small town co-op theater, which makes me feel a little better about seeing silly movies), but I felt 100% better after seeing the movie.
Don’t read any further if you haven’t seen the latest Shrek movie but think you will. The premise of the movie is that Shrek is getting bored with the sameness of each day—feeding and diapering the babies, getting interrupted every time he needs time to himself, etc—and he’s so totally tired out by his day to day life, and so bored, that he blows up at his wife during his kids’ first birthday party. This provides an opening for Rumplestiltskin to show back up, eager to “help” him have a day of escape. His family won’t even know he’s gone, and he’ll be able to be the ogre he once was. Unknowingly, Shrek signs papers that essentially give Rumplestiltskin the opportunity to take away the entire narrative of his life—nobody remembers it but him, and he finds himself in an alternative life with the same characters—but none of them know or remember him.
Of course, predictably, Shrek realizes how he hasn’t been grateful enough and eventually finds a way to save himself and his family and return to life as usual, and he’s able to find joy in the simple pleasures of life again. I know, it’s a silly kids’ movie, but watching it really did make me feel lighter, able to more clearly see my own life. When it was over, in fact, S and I got up and danced in the aisles, and laughed heartily, and fell in love with each other again.
I had spent all day getting the garden in, and I’d imagined that S would help, but of course, she didn’t—each time she came out and proclaimed that she’d help in a moment, she would disappear, forgetting the promise. At first, it didn’t matter—it was a beautiful day, and gardening is therapy for me—but after awhile, as I got more and more tired and sore and my trips inside revealed that the house was getting messier and messier, I got frustrated. It didn’t help that for much of the afternoon, S was lying on the couch reading about native plants and gardening and kept coming outside with more and more ideas for how to create a perfect native garden in our yard. Predictably, at one point I snapped, “Don’t you see how much work it is to put in a garden? Are you blind?” But, to our credit, we managed not to escalate, and S even got an assignment done today when her tutor arrived later, and I got to spend an hour reading on the back porch while they worked.
It’s easy to get tired of each other, and it’s easy, both in the job I have and at home, to feel like I’m constantly being asked to stop whatever it is I’m doing to do something more pressing (but that I’m much less interested in doing). S cannot be in the same room with someone and be silent—it’s just not possible—so even if we’re sitting on the couch reading different books, she needs to me respond to her comments about her book. And, I am often waylaid in my plans at work by students who need immediate help or by a request from an administrator that is more about the institution’s image than the deeper, justice-related work I want to be doing. Anyway, it had been one of those days—and weeks, and months, and semesters.
I have been working really hard lately to change my perspective on my life and other people, as I’ve alluded to many times in this blog. It started with a new parenting paradigm (specifically for children with trauma, though it works for all children, and all relationships, really) that focuses on building a relationship rather than trying to change behavior, and being able to recognize the root causes of both my behaviors and feelings and S’s, and to find ways to name them and connect through that naming. The paradigm advocates for creating boundaries to keep children safe (emotionally and physically) but not imposing consequences and rewards for behaviors, and seeing behaviors as a communication about a feeling or memory, not as inherently “bad” or “good.” Of course, some behaviors have natural consequences—if you scream at someone, they may be more afraid of you or trust you less, etc.—and the idea of this paradigm is that people will suffer and learn from these consequences if they’re given the time to reflect AFTER they have gone through the heat of the moment, and that no learning can happen when a person is not regulated.
It’s impossible to adopt this paradigm, of course, without also applying it to oneself. Doing so opened up a new way of thinking about my own behavior. Slowly, I’ve been able to notice the physical signs of stress that might make me either “blow” or go into avoidance mode, feeling stuck or unable to think or speak or act. Even if I can’t stop myself totally from my fight or flight impulse, I’m able now to at least recognize these impulses for what they are, and usually able to stop before going further than the initial words of impatience or annoyance (or the initial shutting down). I am recognizing what my triggers are, and how they are connected to past pain. In the past, I’ve seen healing as a way of, if not getting over, then at least moving through, this pain from my past—but now I am realizing that I don’t have to do either. The pain simply is. I feel the pain, and it affects how I see the world now and react to it. But, the good news is I can see my fear and pain clearly now most of the time and can control my reactions.
The parenting class I was taking also stressed that changing our own thought patterns would make it easier to notice and react in better ways to our triggers, and would help us to build healthy relationships with others. This isn’t anything new, the premise that a person needs to work on him or herself before expecting his or her relationships to change. I was a bit less enthusiastic about this piece, especially when the teacher suggested that using affirmations could be a powerful way to change our thought patterns, and asked us to try to use them daily for 21 days.
Affirmations? Was she kidding? They sounded like the stupidest, shallowest thing in the world, and there was no way I could say them without laughing my ass off. I hate anything that appears simplistic. I also want to avoid becoming one of “those people” who sees the world through rose-colored glasses and doesn’t notice—or try to alleviate--its pain and suffering. But I decided to try them anyway, and they are actually working. Instead of making me less aware and responsive to suffering, I find that I am more aware and responsive, more conscious of how decisions I make, from my interactions at work to my purchasing decisions, affect others (either immediately or in the big picture).
Still, even with these attempts to change my outlook, I’ve been feeling a lot of dissatisfaction about my day-to-day life. I am tired of the same exact battles with S, and have to restrain myself sometimes from shouting, “You’re not making any progress at all!” Of course she is, and I do see it when I’m clear, but when I have to make dinner and her tutor has called off and she has an assignment due the next day, it’s frustrating to have to ask, once again, why she’s still on the computer and not either doing her work or helping with dinner. Or when I’ve had a rough day at work and I know she’s been sitting around for three hours doing nothing—and I get home and her chores aren’t done and she claims not to have gone on the computer but it’s clear she has.
Work feels the same way lately. I get a new idea and a supervisor shuts it down, either by saying that pursuing it will take me away from other work or that I can’t afford the time or resources. And it’s not just my supervisors: I try to get a group of people organized to follow through on a grant application they wrote, and they won’t mobilize. I get an entire website designed six months earlier than I’d planned because of pressure from my supervisors but can’t get a straight answer about why it’s not yet live. I ask about whether the three weeks I spent in Greece count as “on” or “off” time (I have a 10 month contract), and am told that the 10 month contract really means that I’m expected to work “as much as possible this simmer, though you should take a break if you needed it.” Do I actually pursue the fact that it is illegal to ask someone to work when she’s not getting paid, or do what I know I probably need to do anyway, and get the work done that can’t wait until fall, while taking off as much time as I can afford? You get the idea. Experiencing frustration after frustration, it’s easy to begin to wonder why I am working in an institution that keeps me from creating the change I want to create, and why my efforts at home to help my daughter grow don’t have a quicker payoff.
The difference is, I can now feel my mind battling between framing things positively (she didn’t finish both her chores, but she got one of them done and wasn’t on the computer when I got home) or negatively (I can’t believe the dishes aren’t put away yet and that she’s reading the same issue of Seventeen for the tenth time). Both are equally true, they’re just two different ways of seeing the same situation. In both cases, I’ll hold her accountable for her actions, but the outcome will be different in that the way I respond to her (“I can’t believe you didn’t get your chores done again! And haven’t you gotten sick of that stupid magazine yet?” vs. “Thanks so much for cleaning the cat’s litter and taking out the trash. The house smells so much better! But, I’m disappointed that you didn’t get the dishes put away. It won’t take long—let’s just do it quickly now together”). If I don’t mention the magazine, it’s less likely that it will become a source of tension all the time, and it’s not that important—she’s in down time (even if she shouldn’t be, since the chores aren’t done), so she should be allowed to do whatever will relax her, within reason.
I didn’t used to even feel the possibility of the positive frame, and now I at least know it exists, though I don’t always choose it. I feel like after seeing this silly and simplistic movie, though, something changed. I think I’m able now to recognize that the battle is happening, but then I agonize over it, going back and forth, back and forth, and eventually feeling exhausted and ashamed that the positive frame couldn’t “hold.” The movie made me realize that rather than getting mired in shame and allowing the battle to go on and on, it might be possible to alleviate a lot of suffering by simply choosing the positive frame and then acting on it, right then—and when that doesn’t happen, quickly forgiving myself, making amends to others if necessary, and moving on. This will take some work, but it seems to be the most natural next step in the work I’ve been doing to be more conscious of how my thoughts and feelings are affecting my actions.
In other news, S finally “got over” a boy she’d been crushing on for what seems to be at least a year, though I’m not sure about that. But, she quickly fell for another guy, got his number, texted him asking him out, and was heartbroken when he rejected her (nicely) in a responding text. On Friday night, she wept and wept and was sure, so sure, that this meant no guy would ever like her, that she’d never get more mature or thinner or happier or more confident, all the things she’s sure guys want her to be. I talked to her about being present in the present—focusing on what she could do, right now, to feel better about herself—and also about having the long view—every single rejection will feel awful, and yes, the pain may linger, but she won’t always feel the intensity she felt right after getting the text.
And, I praised her for handling this new crush better. In the past, she’s allowed crushes to drag on for months, analyzing every interaction she has with the boy, feeling deep, intense anger at any girl the boy shows an interest in or even gives attention, and continually seeking the boy’s attention and response through words and behaviors that mark her immaturity. This time, she felt the feelings, acted on them within a couple weeks, and now she can move on (I hope). Huge progress.
I am learning by watching S, and by living my own life, that it’s important to be in the present. So, this weekend I planted the garden I know will give you time to myself to reflect and be, as well as healthy food I can feel good about eating—instead of beating myself up for not ordering and planting veggies from seed this year, I decided that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a garden. And, of course, once I realized that, I had two offers of free plants from friends, and was able to spend about what I would have spent on filler plants anyway. I’m reading the books I’ve been wanting to read, even though I have other things I should be doing. I’m writing a little every day, but not getting caught up in where it’s going or when it will be done.
It’s also important to have the long view. That means both seeing the negative patterns in my life life—for instance, how in the past I’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to discover the ending of something I was writing that I got frustrated with the process and didn’t finish it at all—and changing them, just as S was able to change the negative, obsessive spiral she’s had in the past when dealing with crushes. But having the long view also means not allowing myself to get caught up in any spiral of crazy, self-deprecating thinking at all, and helping S to get out of these cycles, both by supporting her in those moments and by modeling a better way for her.
In short, whenever you can choose a frame, pick the positive frame, and respond through the viewpoint that frame provides, then move on. And enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like when you jokingly begin to dance in the aisle of the movie theater in order to embarrass your daughter and she begins to dance with you, and you both end up laughing and walking out into a suddenly cloudless evening hand in hand.
I can’t believe I’m going to say this, especially since I’m critical of the movie industry and how much money is spent creating movie after movie with the same basic plot line and more and more special effects (though at least I see my movies at a small town co-op theater, which makes me feel a little better about seeing silly movies), but I felt 100% better after seeing the movie.
Don’t read any further if you haven’t seen the latest Shrek movie but think you will. The premise of the movie is that Shrek is getting bored with the sameness of each day—feeding and diapering the babies, getting interrupted every time he needs time to himself, etc—and he’s so totally tired out by his day to day life, and so bored, that he blows up at his wife during his kids’ first birthday party. This provides an opening for Rumplestiltskin to show back up, eager to “help” him have a day of escape. His family won’t even know he’s gone, and he’ll be able to be the ogre he once was. Unknowingly, Shrek signs papers that essentially give Rumplestiltskin the opportunity to take away the entire narrative of his life—nobody remembers it but him, and he finds himself in an alternative life with the same characters—but none of them know or remember him.
Of course, predictably, Shrek realizes how he hasn’t been grateful enough and eventually finds a way to save himself and his family and return to life as usual, and he’s able to find joy in the simple pleasures of life again. I know, it’s a silly kids’ movie, but watching it really did make me feel lighter, able to more clearly see my own life. When it was over, in fact, S and I got up and danced in the aisles, and laughed heartily, and fell in love with each other again.
I had spent all day getting the garden in, and I’d imagined that S would help, but of course, she didn’t—each time she came out and proclaimed that she’d help in a moment, she would disappear, forgetting the promise. At first, it didn’t matter—it was a beautiful day, and gardening is therapy for me—but after awhile, as I got more and more tired and sore and my trips inside revealed that the house was getting messier and messier, I got frustrated. It didn’t help that for much of the afternoon, S was lying on the couch reading about native plants and gardening and kept coming outside with more and more ideas for how to create a perfect native garden in our yard. Predictably, at one point I snapped, “Don’t you see how much work it is to put in a garden? Are you blind?” But, to our credit, we managed not to escalate, and S even got an assignment done today when her tutor arrived later, and I got to spend an hour reading on the back porch while they worked.
It’s easy to get tired of each other, and it’s easy, both in the job I have and at home, to feel like I’m constantly being asked to stop whatever it is I’m doing to do something more pressing (but that I’m much less interested in doing). S cannot be in the same room with someone and be silent—it’s just not possible—so even if we’re sitting on the couch reading different books, she needs to me respond to her comments about her book. And, I am often waylaid in my plans at work by students who need immediate help or by a request from an administrator that is more about the institution’s image than the deeper, justice-related work I want to be doing. Anyway, it had been one of those days—and weeks, and months, and semesters.
I have been working really hard lately to change my perspective on my life and other people, as I’ve alluded to many times in this blog. It started with a new parenting paradigm (specifically for children with trauma, though it works for all children, and all relationships, really) that focuses on building a relationship rather than trying to change behavior, and being able to recognize the root causes of both my behaviors and feelings and S’s, and to find ways to name them and connect through that naming. The paradigm advocates for creating boundaries to keep children safe (emotionally and physically) but not imposing consequences and rewards for behaviors, and seeing behaviors as a communication about a feeling or memory, not as inherently “bad” or “good.” Of course, some behaviors have natural consequences—if you scream at someone, they may be more afraid of you or trust you less, etc.—and the idea of this paradigm is that people will suffer and learn from these consequences if they’re given the time to reflect AFTER they have gone through the heat of the moment, and that no learning can happen when a person is not regulated.
It’s impossible to adopt this paradigm, of course, without also applying it to oneself. Doing so opened up a new way of thinking about my own behavior. Slowly, I’ve been able to notice the physical signs of stress that might make me either “blow” or go into avoidance mode, feeling stuck or unable to think or speak or act. Even if I can’t stop myself totally from my fight or flight impulse, I’m able now to at least recognize these impulses for what they are, and usually able to stop before going further than the initial words of impatience or annoyance (or the initial shutting down). I am recognizing what my triggers are, and how they are connected to past pain. In the past, I’ve seen healing as a way of, if not getting over, then at least moving through, this pain from my past—but now I am realizing that I don’t have to do either. The pain simply is. I feel the pain, and it affects how I see the world now and react to it. But, the good news is I can see my fear and pain clearly now most of the time and can control my reactions.
The parenting class I was taking also stressed that changing our own thought patterns would make it easier to notice and react in better ways to our triggers, and would help us to build healthy relationships with others. This isn’t anything new, the premise that a person needs to work on him or herself before expecting his or her relationships to change. I was a bit less enthusiastic about this piece, especially when the teacher suggested that using affirmations could be a powerful way to change our thought patterns, and asked us to try to use them daily for 21 days.
Affirmations? Was she kidding? They sounded like the stupidest, shallowest thing in the world, and there was no way I could say them without laughing my ass off. I hate anything that appears simplistic. I also want to avoid becoming one of “those people” who sees the world through rose-colored glasses and doesn’t notice—or try to alleviate--its pain and suffering. But I decided to try them anyway, and they are actually working. Instead of making me less aware and responsive to suffering, I find that I am more aware and responsive, more conscious of how decisions I make, from my interactions at work to my purchasing decisions, affect others (either immediately or in the big picture).
Still, even with these attempts to change my outlook, I’ve been feeling a lot of dissatisfaction about my day-to-day life. I am tired of the same exact battles with S, and have to restrain myself sometimes from shouting, “You’re not making any progress at all!” Of course she is, and I do see it when I’m clear, but when I have to make dinner and her tutor has called off and she has an assignment due the next day, it’s frustrating to have to ask, once again, why she’s still on the computer and not either doing her work or helping with dinner. Or when I’ve had a rough day at work and I know she’s been sitting around for three hours doing nothing—and I get home and her chores aren’t done and she claims not to have gone on the computer but it’s clear she has.
Work feels the same way lately. I get a new idea and a supervisor shuts it down, either by saying that pursuing it will take me away from other work or that I can’t afford the time or resources. And it’s not just my supervisors: I try to get a group of people organized to follow through on a grant application they wrote, and they won’t mobilize. I get an entire website designed six months earlier than I’d planned because of pressure from my supervisors but can’t get a straight answer about why it’s not yet live. I ask about whether the three weeks I spent in Greece count as “on” or “off” time (I have a 10 month contract), and am told that the 10 month contract really means that I’m expected to work “as much as possible this simmer, though you should take a break if you needed it.” Do I actually pursue the fact that it is illegal to ask someone to work when she’s not getting paid, or do what I know I probably need to do anyway, and get the work done that can’t wait until fall, while taking off as much time as I can afford? You get the idea. Experiencing frustration after frustration, it’s easy to begin to wonder why I am working in an institution that keeps me from creating the change I want to create, and why my efforts at home to help my daughter grow don’t have a quicker payoff.
The difference is, I can now feel my mind battling between framing things positively (she didn’t finish both her chores, but she got one of them done and wasn’t on the computer when I got home) or negatively (I can’t believe the dishes aren’t put away yet and that she’s reading the same issue of Seventeen for the tenth time). Both are equally true, they’re just two different ways of seeing the same situation. In both cases, I’ll hold her accountable for her actions, but the outcome will be different in that the way I respond to her (“I can’t believe you didn’t get your chores done again! And haven’t you gotten sick of that stupid magazine yet?” vs. “Thanks so much for cleaning the cat’s litter and taking out the trash. The house smells so much better! But, I’m disappointed that you didn’t get the dishes put away. It won’t take long—let’s just do it quickly now together”). If I don’t mention the magazine, it’s less likely that it will become a source of tension all the time, and it’s not that important—she’s in down time (even if she shouldn’t be, since the chores aren’t done), so she should be allowed to do whatever will relax her, within reason.
I didn’t used to even feel the possibility of the positive frame, and now I at least know it exists, though I don’t always choose it. I feel like after seeing this silly and simplistic movie, though, something changed. I think I’m able now to recognize that the battle is happening, but then I agonize over it, going back and forth, back and forth, and eventually feeling exhausted and ashamed that the positive frame couldn’t “hold.” The movie made me realize that rather than getting mired in shame and allowing the battle to go on and on, it might be possible to alleviate a lot of suffering by simply choosing the positive frame and then acting on it, right then—and when that doesn’t happen, quickly forgiving myself, making amends to others if necessary, and moving on. This will take some work, but it seems to be the most natural next step in the work I’ve been doing to be more conscious of how my thoughts and feelings are affecting my actions.
In other news, S finally “got over” a boy she’d been crushing on for what seems to be at least a year, though I’m not sure about that. But, she quickly fell for another guy, got his number, texted him asking him out, and was heartbroken when he rejected her (nicely) in a responding text. On Friday night, she wept and wept and was sure, so sure, that this meant no guy would ever like her, that she’d never get more mature or thinner or happier or more confident, all the things she’s sure guys want her to be. I talked to her about being present in the present—focusing on what she could do, right now, to feel better about herself—and also about having the long view—every single rejection will feel awful, and yes, the pain may linger, but she won’t always feel the intensity she felt right after getting the text.
And, I praised her for handling this new crush better. In the past, she’s allowed crushes to drag on for months, analyzing every interaction she has with the boy, feeling deep, intense anger at any girl the boy shows an interest in or even gives attention, and continually seeking the boy’s attention and response through words and behaviors that mark her immaturity. This time, she felt the feelings, acted on them within a couple weeks, and now she can move on (I hope). Huge progress.
I am learning by watching S, and by living my own life, that it’s important to be in the present. So, this weekend I planted the garden I know will give you time to myself to reflect and be, as well as healthy food I can feel good about eating—instead of beating myself up for not ordering and planting veggies from seed this year, I decided that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a garden. And, of course, once I realized that, I had two offers of free plants from friends, and was able to spend about what I would have spent on filler plants anyway. I’m reading the books I’ve been wanting to read, even though I have other things I should be doing. I’m writing a little every day, but not getting caught up in where it’s going or when it will be done.
It’s also important to have the long view. That means both seeing the negative patterns in my life life—for instance, how in the past I’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to discover the ending of something I was writing that I got frustrated with the process and didn’t finish it at all—and changing them, just as S was able to change the negative, obsessive spiral she’s had in the past when dealing with crushes. But having the long view also means not allowing myself to get caught up in any spiral of crazy, self-deprecating thinking at all, and helping S to get out of these cycles, both by supporting her in those moments and by modeling a better way for her.
In short, whenever you can choose a frame, pick the positive frame, and respond through the viewpoint that frame provides, then move on. And enjoy the simple pleasures of life, like when you jokingly begin to dance in the aisle of the movie theater in order to embarrass your daughter and she begins to dance with you, and you both end up laughing and walking out into a suddenly cloudless evening hand in hand.
Comments
Also, my parents definitely explicitly said to me as a teenager, "I can't believe you're still on the computer and haven't done your chores! I've been at work all day and I come home to THIS!"... So either maybe I'm not the best role model, or it happens to everyone.