The Dialectic of Life, Loss, and Acceptance

I wrote this poem this morning.  Loss is a tricky concept because even when the person departs, our shared memories and truths that we know in our bones live on and walk with us.  When radical acceptance comes, the dialectic is more salient and, at times, comforting in the darkest of times. 

For some, the time before dawn is the darkest hour...logically yes, but the dawn is troubling, too, because it can be a recognition of beginning another day without them.  

The Zen response to this may be that "all is as it should be," yet that is not say that everything is perfect in the moment, "but rather to the dependent unfolding view of reality (given the pre-existing conditions, how could things be different?) and the recognition of valuation as human-generated rather than universally intrinsic (perfect for whom, based upon which criteria?)."  This concept is explored in Mindfulness and Acceptance: Expanding the Cognitive-Behavioral Tradition (Robins, Schmidt, & Linehan, 2004, p. 38).

 

Let's look at Marsha Linehan's point of view on acceptance.  "The experience of acceptance. . .is that of 'getting it,' opening oneself to the context, striving to wait for understanding rather than leap in precipitously, acknowledging distress as an outcome. . .rather than as a problem to be solved. . .Thus, acceptance as a state or experience may reflect the wisdom of wanting to gather rather than disperse, catching the context while enduring the moment"
(Robins, Schmidt, & Linehan, 2004, p. 38). 

The dialectic of loss is difficult for me, and I know that I'm not alone in this.  Although we may not see them, their influence lasts a lifetime.  

In us, the stories and legacy continue and cannot die.

I rose before dawn to talk to you.

It is in darkness that I see you with clarity,

And hear your voice in my head,

And feel your support in helping me move forward.

Your hands reach for mine.

My heart reaches for your sure hands

And seeks that knowing smile.

I talk to you and imagine

That you just heard my voicemail,

Just like always.

My mind can only hope for so long,

But my heart refuses to give in to the reality

That you’re not with me.

I miss you, but this is not a time for goodbyes,

Only see you soon.

And it is a time to look forward

To our next time,

And it will be so.

For a more in-depth approach to acceptance and mindfulness, check out 
Mindfulness and Acceptance: Expanding the Cognitive-Behavioral Tradition

 

Living Behind the Wall: Longing for Connection and Dealing with the Fear of Uncertainty

The following journal is a snapshot of working through the barriers that hinder our connections with others.  We all have walls.  They are intended to protect us from difficult situations, people, and life events. 

When I am alone, give me the strength and courage to stand, to see, to reach out. Randy Pausch says brick walls are there to show us how badly we really want something- whether it's a relationship, an academic goal, or a childhood dream. But I'm talking about a different kind of brick wall. It's made of glass blocks that let in the light but distort the outside world. It was built piece by piece, each with promises that I would be safe and protected. What I didn't realize that in walling myself in, I shut others out. The walls promised safety in living behind them. 

Piece by piece, I'm starting to consider the pros and cons about staying within the realm of what is expected and predictable. So badly I want to connect with the people I see when I climb the ladder to the top of the wall. They laugh. They smile. They walk forward into a world where the only expected outcome is uncertainty, while the promise is to find peace, community, hope, and love from the One who gives and takes away.

I don't have to understand everything about the outside world to make a decision that living behind the wall is staying within the trap- one that doesn't allow me the chances to live and to be known. I don't know how or when the walls will not be quite so tall, but it gives me hope that true life is waiting and can't wait to see me.

Owning Acceptance: A Step Toward Recovery

Recovery comes as application and action meet acceptance and chain-breaking freedom.  Acceptance is critical in recovery, whether the condition is open heart surgery or disordered eating.  Life can be classified as before, moments of struggle, moments of clarity, and walking forward.  Like the scar, there are physical reminders of what happened. 
 
Acceptance fits in the process of knowing that there will be lifestyle changes and this process can't be rushed.  You sit with acceptance.  You release the grip on what is holding you back, allowing your circulation to come back to your hands.  Life truly begins when you let go, opening your hands to receive grace and mercy.  

Acceptance and owning this acceptance aren't especially different.  Owning acceptance is a path to freedom, moving the focus away from the pain of the past and into the here and now.

This quote is an example of owning acceptance.

"I'm working really hard on accepting who I am now- the one who wants to get better.  And I still have not so great days.  I am proud that I am having more good days and I try to be skillful on tough days.  I'm taking it one day at a time.  I believe in my recovery...and I'm worth it."

"Brokenness is not the end of the story"

"Brokenness is not the end of the story.  Our pain is deep, but it is not all-encompassing; our loss is enormous, but it is not eternal; and death is our enemy but it does not have the final word."  - Ruth Padilla Eldrenkamp

For individuals with borderline personality disorder, belief in the idea that they are broken may be common...broken hearts, broken relationships, and perhaps a broken sense of self. "Getting fixed" may be a proposed treatment goal by the client, but it is a mistaken goal because healing, radically accepting yourself in the moment and recognizing the need and drive to change may be more helpful.

Defining and labeling yourself with the challenges you have experienced is counterproductive in strengthening your view of self.  Focusing on the brokenness and awfulness of illness takes the focus away from the steps of finding balance and realizations of what is going well.  

Marsha Linehan has described having BPD as lacking emotional skin.  Our emotional pain can be excruciating, with each touch as painful as a third degree burn.  Reacting to pain is understandable.  Emotional regulation and distress tolerance skills can help to ameliorate the pain and decrease suffering.  These skills can create adaptive changes that guide the process of building a "life worth living."  

"Brokenness is not the end of the story."  There is hope.  There is freedom.  There is recovery.  I have no doubt in these simple truths.

Fun Project for Introspective Thought

Introspection is a double-edged sword for me.  I am always looking to learn more about myself.  It helps me to relate to others' perspectives in a more real, genuine way.

So a quick project I have been thinking about is looking at identity. 

Fill in the sentences with words that are true for you.  

I am. . .

I am doing. . .

(Summarize your life right now in a few words)

Who am I?

What am I doing in working on who I am?  

What am I doing that will get me where I want to go?

Brene Brown and My Aha Moment

I have big news talk to about.  Words on paper aren't enough to describe my plan and dream.  I will be Dr. Sarah and I'm not letting go of that dream.  I will be here, but may not in educational psychology.  I want to pursue my PhD and focus on qualitative research, mood disorders, neurological differences, and dialectical behavior therapy. 

The middle step is to see the nature of social work and the research opportunities available in Houston.  I want to take Dr. Brené Brown's shame and empathy class.  I like what I know about the department and Dr. Brown so far, both in working with you and watching her Oprah interview.   

Brené Brown quote of the week:

“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change” (Brené Brown, 2013).


So I've been kind of quiet lately...in a distant way.  I see what's going on and it's just hard to change.  It's about external stressors and the internal conflict that comes when it's hard to express my emotions, thoughts, and reactions.  I get that.  I experience it like "You are wrong for even thinking that" kind of way...so shame comes and it hurts.  I was trying to be nice and helpful...it blew up in my face...and I will look into finding a way to talk to her about it.

I think the quote kind of describes where I am now, but I see change as more probable than I did earlier this month.  Progress not perfection.