by Elly van Laar | Oct 4, 2014 | Acceptance, Compassionate Communication, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
Have you ever reached out for connection, and your partner didn’t respond? Or walked away? Or talked about a completely different topic? Maybe something like this: “I had seven participants in my class today!”… Silence… (second attempt) “I made $60!”…She walks away… (third attempt) “The group is so enthusiastic and committed. They really try to get it.”… “My aunt called, she wants to come over for Thanksgiving.”
Gottman calls these responses “Turning away”. In his 40 years of research on relationships he found out that the key to happy, stable, and healthy (literally: happily married couples live on average 4 years longer, have better functioning immune systems, and are more resilient) relationships, is turning toward bids for emotional connection. The response itself is less relevant, as long as the act of turning toward conveys the message: “Hey, I hear you, I see you, and you matter so much to me, that I want to connect with you and hear what’s going on for you.” I guess turning toward works so well, because it acknowledges that the other person is worthy to be seen and respond to.
Turning toward might look like this: “I had seven participants in my class today!” “Wow, that’s great. That’s the third time you had such a big turnout.” “Yeah, people are loving it and bringing friends. I made $60!” “I can imagine you feel proud and relieved that your commitment and efforts are helping people.” “Yes, I do. The group is so enthusiastic and committed. They really try to get it. They even practice in between.” “I am so happy for you. It sounds as if your needs for contribution, community, and appreciation are met.”
Feel the difference?
Turning toward invites more dialogue, and more connection and understanding.
Turning against is the third possible response to bids for emotional connection. Your partner starts arguing, criticizing, making sarcastic remarks, judging, ridiculing, or anything else that conveys disrespect, conflict and disconnection. “I had seven participants in my class today!” (sarcastic) “Wow, my goodness, isn’t that something. I had 18 in my class today.” (more timid, still trying to connect) “I made $60…” “As if that’s gonna help.” (almost discouraged, still hoping for connection) “The group is so enthusiastic and committed… They really try to get it…” “Who cares? You spend six hours on that class, and come home with nothing.”
In this week of atonement, this day of Yom Kippur, I invite us to ask ourselves how often we turned away or against a bid for emotional connection. We might ask ourselves how we can convey to our partner, friend, child, sibling, parent, co-worker, neighbor, anyone that we care enough about them to acknowledge and appreciate their bids for emotional connection.
We can start a circle of connection, community, and appreciation.
Wouldn’t that be lovely?
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You want help to turn toward bids for emotional connection? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Oct 1, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth, Self-compassion
“Sorry seems to be the hardest word.” At least, that’s what Elton John sings.
“Sorry” seems to convey that there is something wrong with us, that we did something bad, and that -as a result of our action- we are unworthy of love, acceptance, and belonging. It is the beggar’s word in a one-up relationship, where I know what is good and what is bad, and decide whether you are good enough to be in the inside circle.
Sometimes this burden of self-incrimination turns into the opposite, and our “sorry!” becomes oblique, as we run out the door, leaving our spouse frustrated with our unwashed dishes and our stuff at the counter, with no intention to clean up after ourselves the next time we’re in a hurry.
It does not have to be this way.
Sorry can also reflect a profound self-reflective journey of looking inward and acknowledging the times we did not show up the way we wanted.
The ten days between Rosh Hashanna and Yom Kippur invite us to this journey of self-connection and reflection on our transgressions against G*d, our fellow living beings, and ourselves.
I understand transgressions not in the legal way, but as a longing to awaken to our true nature of love, compassion, and mindfulness, and to our innate desire to contribute to the well-being of others, including ourselves.
Atonement is the process of restoring our at-one-ment, our interbeing.
Nonviolent Communication calls it the cycle of Mourning, Celebrating, and Learning. We ask ourselves which universal, human, precious needs were unmet with the behavior we now regret. And we ask ourselves which precious, human, universal needs we did meet -or were trying to meet- with the behavior we now regret. And in that process of looking deeply, understanding, and accepting our choices, we open up to learning different ways to nurture all those needs: the ones we met and the ones we didn’t meet. It is the process of connecting to our values and that what is most important to us: life and love.
When we approach the word “sorry” as an indication of our learning, as a sign that we realize our unskillfulness in pursuing our needs, without giving up our dignity and worthiness of love, acceptance, and belonging, it is the easiest word possible. It expresses that we are human beings who search, sometimes stumble, through life, looking for ways to honor our needs, those of others, and those of G*d. It indicates that we are not stuck in the past, wallowing in our regret, but that we open up to life and making more wholesome choices in the future.
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You want help to mourn, celebrate, and learn from actions you now regret? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Sep 24, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
Have you ever heard of smile therapy?
I hadn’t.
So I invented it.
Throughout the day I bring my attention to my facial expression and invite myself to smile. You wouldn’t notice the difference probably, my smile is fainter than that of the Mona Lisa, but I do.
Just inviting a smile changes my experience. I soften and open up.
The Second Mindfulness Training “True Happiness” says: “I am aware that happiness depends on my mental attitude and not on external conditions, and that I can live happily in the present moment simply by remembering that I already have more than enough conditions to be happy.”
So here I am, disappointed that I didn’t make the money I wanted, sad that my friend didn’t call back, scared that my parents will die this year, angry that the driver in front of me cut me off, and I notice the corners of my mouth turn downward in dissatisfaction with what life offers me.
And I start smiling.
I look around in my experience and notice this cognitive dissonance between my inner experience and my outer expression. Something isn’t right. I can’t have unpleasant feelings and smile at the same time. One of the two has to change to establish a sense of alignment and integrity. And since I am devoted to my smile therapy, it’s gonna be my experience.
Instead of holding on to my anger, disappointment, jealousy, grudge, or self-righteous indignation, I start searching for things I can smile about. What can I appreciate in this moment that aligns with my smile? Maybe it is the sun on my arms, or the mockingbird singing? Or the relief that we still live in our beloved house? Or the fact that my headache is gone? Or the joy of my Compassionate Communication Group last Monday?
And you know what?
It is super easy to find something to be grateful for.
Thich Nhat Hanh is right: I have more than enough conditions to be happy.
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You want help to find things you can be appreciative of? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Sep 20, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
Thich Nhat Hanh tells us that giving makes us happy. Since I lately struggle with feelings of fear, depression, and discouragement, I am willing to give it a try. In each and every moment I’ll focus on generosity and “share my time, energy, and material resources with those who are in need”, including myself.
Sitting as silent witness as Lisa Coleman is executed is my act of giving. I know my vigilance won’t save her life, repair the pain and suffering of the boy she beat and starved to death, or bring peace to those left behind. I only know that I can be with her in spirit and send her love and peace, while she counts down the last minutes of her life.
As I drive up to Capitol Hill I am noticing how appreciative I am that I am alive. How grateful I am that I can feel the sun on my arm, my hands on the steering wheel, my breath flowing through me. I might muddle through life, and yet everyday offers a new opportunity to live and love.
And as I sit and imagine her fear, despair, anger, and loss as she is strapped to her death bed, I feel my anger towards society dissipate. We are in this together. We are confused and lost as to how create connections that are inclusive, supporting, open, and loving. We don’t know how to reach out to those on the fringes of society, at the top of corporations, and bridge the differences. We make mistakes with sometimes horrendous consequences, and we punish by killing, because we lost sight of our compassion and interbeing.
I look at the cars stopping at the traffic light in front of us. I look at the drivers and the passengers and wonder who they are, where they are going, what they’re doing. I imagine their families, their loved ones. I see them as children, maybe happy, maybe unhappy. And I tap into this universal reservoir of limitless love: “May you be peaceful, happy, and light in body and spirit. May you be safe and free from injury. May you be free from anger, afflictions, fear, and anxiety.” And all I wish for is that they will never kill, be killed, or lose a loved one to killing or execution.
Sitting as silent witness when someone is executed and sending out loving-kindness to everyone in this world is a simple way of giving, and I feel elevated by it.
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You want help to practice generosity and giving? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Sep 10, 2014 | Compassion, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
“If when I die, the moment I’m dying, if I suffer that is all right, you know; that is suffering Buddha. No confusion in it. Maybe everyone will struggle because of the physical agony or spiritual agony, too. But that is all right, that is not a problem.” Shunrya Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind.
Buddha of suffering.
I feel so relieved when I read this quote. There are just many Buddha’s, not just the peaceful one. Buddha of confusion. Buddha of stuckness. Buddha of anger and fear.
Being on a path of mindfulness and compassion doesn’t mean that we feel happy, peaceful, and open all the time. Even Thich Nhat Hanh writes about moments of anger and sadness in his life. Being on a path of mindfulness and compassion just means that: being mindful and compassionate of all that arises. Our sadness, our fear, our anger, our jealousy, our depression. Embracing all feelings with love and care, no discrimination. Using our experiences to really understand what it means to be a human being. “Oh, this is what anger looks like. This is how it feels in my body. These are the thoughts that come with it. These are the impulses that grab me.”
Usually we aren’t in this space of openness. We have an aversion to our unpleasant feelings. We want them to go away, and we will go to great lengths to get rid of them, yelling, slashing out, blaming included. Or, we have an attachment to our pleasant feelings. We want to be happy, peaceful, calm all the time, and we hate it when these feelings disappear. Or, we are deluded and ignorant of what’s going on inside us. We zap our time away, drink, drug, sugar coat our experience, or lose ourselves in mindless reading, talking, gaming, watching television.
Aversion, attachment, delusion, the three causes of suffering according to Buddhism.
The less we can stand our feelings, the less able we are to connect with people and situations with openness. Instead of being penetrated by our feelings, and standing our discomfort, we look for a scapegoat, someone we can blame for our suffering. We want to make them wrong, hoping this will make our experience better. We are unable to observe clearly and truthfully, and start creating enemy images in our head.
If we want to connect to the reality of life, we better learn how to accept our feelings. Then we can separate our pain and suffering from the trigger, and look deeply into the causes of our suffering. We might have wrongful thinking. We might carry emotional trauma. We might have unmet needs. When we stand our feelings, we can see the causes of our suffering, and we can connect to the beautiful, precious, universal needs underneath our feelings. Then, and only then, can we make requests that enriches all life.
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You want help to stand your feelings and connect more openly to life? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Sep 6, 2014 | Mindfulness, Personal Growth
My sister tells me that she feel impressed and inspired, because I am never bored. I happily confirm the assessment. “You’re right, Saskia, I am never bored. Especially not since I started meditating. I have always something to do, even when I am waiting, because I can always focus on my breath and observe my thoughts, feelings, and sensations.
I feel proud, relieved, and excited that I have found something that brings me joy in every moment.
As the days pass, I start to pay attention. To the truth of my experience. How utterly bored I feel on my meditation cushion, many, many times. Just focusing on my breath, and nothing else going on. Not enough distraction, not enough entertainment, too much antsyness. I follow Thich Nhat Hanh’s instructions:
Breathing in, I know I am breathing in.
Breathing out, I know I am breathing out.
In.
Out.
Okay, okay, I get it. Focus on your in-breath as you breathe in, and on your out-breath as you breathe out. But 20 minutes in a row???! I get the idea in two minutes, can I do something else the rest of the time?
Let’s try Pema Chodron’s advice. Sit up straight, tongue resting lightly on my palate, mouth lightly open.
Breathing in, I adjust posture.
Breathing out, I let go.
Way better. My neck needs adjustment. I need to straighten my back. Relax my belly. I have something to do, some distraction. Then there is a ring-tailed cat outside. Cool! I have to pay attention to her. You see them seldom, because they are so shy. Now I have an interesting thought. Let’s elaborate on it, it’s a perfect outline for a post.
I am never bored??!… I am bored all the time. Especially with what’s most crucial to my life: my breath.
Jack Kornfield has this story:
There once was a Zen Buddhist student monk. His teacher shared one practice with him: focus on your breath. The student practiced for years, and years, and years. Then finally he tells his teacher: “Master, I have practiced focusing on my breath for all these years. I’m getting bored. Can we add another practice?” The teacher grasps his head, pushes it down the water basin and holds it there till the student grasps for air. Then he lets him go and asks: “Are you still bored with your breath?”
That student is me. Learning to find delight in each and every breath.
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You want help to enjoy every breath? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
Gottman calls these responses “Turning away”. In his 40 years of research on relationships he found out that the key to happy, stable, and healthy (literally: happily married couples live on average 4 years longer, have better functioning immune systems, and are more resilient) relationships, is turning toward bids for emotional connection. The response itself is less relevant, as long as the act of turning toward conveys the message: “Hey, I hear you, I see you, and you matter so much to me, that I want to connect with you and hear what’s going on for you.” I guess turning toward works so well, because it acknowledges that the other person is worthy to be seen and respond to.
