Opportunity

Why me? Why NOT?!

Deb Brock Discovery, Mental, Opportunity, Spiritual , , , , , , , ,

September 16, 2013:   Why me?  Why NOT?!

A most wonderful woman returned to my office this week after not seeing her for close to 13 years.  Long story short, she was dealing with “how good life is” and what is wrong with that?  Funny, I thought, here is a woman who, after having gone through three years of intense psychotherapy to deal with a life threatening depression originating out of some very complex early life issues, would now come back to therapy because, in short, life is too good.  Something must be wrong.

I reviewed her old chart, ran through the check list with all things tallying in the positive.  She finished raising her children all of whom are independently successful and content.  Her one and only (long term) husband and she are happier than they have ever been.  She is enjoying financial advancement as well as administrative and peer recognition at work for her professional contribution.  And, of course, I checked the old trauma material we had processed a decade plus ago and it is long dissipated, no longer in her mental and or emotional awareness.  Hurrah!  Kaplah (as the Klingons would say)!  Mercy, what needs to be wrong for this picture to be safe?  That was the point.  Quite simply there is nothing wrong.  Does something need to be wrong???

With cautious disclosure I told her of my working hypothesis: she is suffering from a form of survivor’s guilt.  Her eyes got big, she trickled a tear and nodded her head.  Life was simply too good.  She admitted that her brother, a long term friend, and a co-worker, were all currently suffering from either a failed marriage, dissatisfying job, or lack of physical health.  So why should she be so content?  I took advantage of the opportunity to ask if she knew Nelson Mandela, which of course she did and easily verbalized the quality of his life’s contribution.  I quoted from his 1994 Inaugural speech (which I have posted in my office just at the base of my monitor for quick reference): “We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you NOT to be?  You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the World”.  Another tear trickled down her face, a slight biting of her lower lip and again, the slight head nod.  This is about gratitude, I said, not about worthiness or comparison.  I suggested she work on noting appreciation, which, by its nature, circulates and spreads goodness and quality compared to fear of goodness which comes out of false pride (I shouldn’t have it so good because someone else is suffering).  We agreed to work together for a spell of time with a concerted focus on enjoying and appreciating the goodness with which her current life is so richly endowed.

Wow, how cool is that?

~Dr Deb

Regret: Wasted Energy

Deb Brock Opportunity , , , , , , , , , ,

August 12, 2013 – Regret: Wasted Energy

She asked me “why do I not move forward?”  She was dealing with her efforts to recreate her profession and had just noted that when she thinks of opportunity missed she feels a pang of panic.  So much energy is wasted on those darn “what if’s and if only’s”, I said.  She rolled her eyes knowing where I was heading her.

Often when we find ourselves stuck, unable to move forward, it is because our energy is being sucked up by regrets.   Regret is a poison in the guise of a nagging panic couched in judgments that echo “if only I had…” Regret, of course, can be only about the past.  We can’t regret what might come our way.  We can only regret what has passed (that we lost).  There is nothing that sucks up our energy like regret. Dwelling on “what if” and “if only” keeps us in the past.  Energy that loops on the past is energy wasted because it is incapable of moving us forward.

The only cure for regret is grief, be it large or small.  Grief that says “I am sorry”, in recognition of lost opportunity or action, will unbind us from the past and invite us to breathe “this is what I can do now”.   Nice!

~ DocBrock

Grandma’s dress

Deb Brock Connection, Opportunity , , , ,

July 31, 1013 – Grandma’s dress

Green! Now that’s a real summer green, I thought. Kind of turtle green. Hmmm, not the typical contemporary mix of hues, just a real solid, mid to dark green. It was a print but I didn’t take notice of the print, just the color and the simplicity of the pattern which had a vague familiarity for me. Somehow the simple green cotton summer dress just looked “real”. I suspected it was a re-sale piece, “vintage” as the thrift stores now advertise. Or, perhaps, I bet it was home made, but if so, certainly from an old pattern. I was only observing it from the back, since the young woman was standing in front of me in line at Caribou just minutes ago. The woman carried a well worn over one shoulder sling backpack. I noted several highlighters in a line in one of the external pockets. There was a sewed on decal with wording that looked like German but I wasn’t sure. Immediately I wondered if or not the back pack sling was really an old one, or just created age new travel gear. I mused on the juxtaposition of the dress and back pack sling.

Once the young woman placed her order she stepped to the side and I stepped forward and greeted Jenny, one of my long time enjoyed barristers. Jenny knows my never changing order so she just took my cup and in a brief exchange Jenny and I reported our individual good day accounts. I then turned my head to the left and smiled at the young woman in green, and as I always do when I enjoy a flash of beauty in feminine form, I told her so. “I really like your dress”, I said. She smiled in a rather confident yet private manner and said “thank you”. Keeping eye contact in an ever so light affection, I kind of hummed, smiled and again said: “very nice.” Instantly, generational flow melted the space between us as she said “It was my grandma’s”.

Within the breath she said “it was my grandma’s” time slowed and I could smell country air, fresh peach pies, and hear the sound of screen doors not quite slamming, thudding, or banging, just bouncing. “Of course”, I thought, “of course, your grandma’s”. “Oh, how delightful” I said. Then all l I could do was nod my head and smile and repeat the words, “nice, very nice”.

Jenny handed me my espresso, I gave a hearty thanks and good wish for the day and left Caribou. Even as I got into my car I was wishing to return and visit with the woman wearing her grandmother’s green dress. I really wanted to get to know her and her grandma, but, I was en-route to my office and as we all know, you have to get to the office. Silly me, I should have stayed to visit. I bet her Grandma would have.

~ DocBrock