A Well Worn Path

When I moved to my current community, I made friends who showed me a shortcut into a beautiful conservation park. I was told it was the path that all the locals use. There always seemed to be a steady stream of people coming and going through this well-worn path through the fence, so I never gave it a second thought and was happy to be in-the-know about this private access point.

However, one day while enjoying a hike on the trail with my family, we were stopped by a group of park rangers who asked us how we got into the park. They proceeded to tell us we could be fined for trespassing for not coming through the front entrance way and paying park admission. I felt sick to my stomach.

Park admission? I had no idea. Shouldn’t there be signs posted to let people know if they were trespassing? Wasn’t this park free for locals?

I went back to examine the access point I’d been using to get into the park. Sure enough, there were “no trespassing signs” clearly marked and I realized the entrance I had always walked through was a chain linked fence that had been cut and rolled back.

I could not believe the obvious signs I had been ignoring to go on the trail! As hard as it may be to believe this, I’d honestly never noticed them before.

Similar to my experience on the trail, there are many things we do without even pausing to think about them. We form unhealthy habits and practices in a variety of unsuspecting ways. For example, the way we speak to our families; the way we express anger; or maybe the way we handle stress or discipline our children. We all have blind spots—behaviours we don’t notice or perhaps even view as problematic.

Similar to being stopped by a park ranger, we often become aware of our problematic behaviours when they stop working for us. Maybe it comes in the form of a relationship breakdown, a mental health crisis, or physical indicators like stress headaches or stomach aches.

Those old paths no longer lead us to desirable destinations. While these “old paths”/strategies may have been a brilliant way to get through challenges in our earlier years, they can end up harming ourselves and those we love.

The good news is that healthy change is possible. The first and likely most difficult step in making change is noticing what is not working. From there, we can take some time to pause and reflect on what changes we want to make. Then we commit ourselves to making those changes happen.

Before we know it, we have forged a new, beautiful path.

Hope in the Rain

I recently returned from a trip to the beautiful province of Newfoundland, to celebrate my wedding anniversary with my husband. One of our hopes for this trip was to see some whales. We’d heard the end of June/beginning of July was the best time to see them so we were very hopeful.

We booked a whale watching tour with great expectations of seeing the whales, but the whales had other plans that day.

On our last day in Newfoundland, we rented a car to take a long drive out to a beach, infamous for whale sightings—according to the locals. The forecast that day predicted up to 75 millimetres of rain and when we set out on our drive, it appeared the forecast was right. It was like driving through a car wash in some parts of the highway and there was not much to see along the way.

After an hour of driving through torrential rains, rough roads, potholes and fueled by greasy chicken nuggets (from a tiny store in the middle of nowhere) we debated turning around to go home. What if we drove all of this way for nothing? We discussed it and the tiny hope that we might see a whale inspired us to keep going.

We almost drove past the beach because it was not well marked and from the road it looked more like a stockyard with a worn wooden fence lining the stony, gravel parking lot.

After parking the car, we walked along the wooden fence that hid the view of the ocean. When we came around the corner of the fence, we saw a handful of people gazing out at the foggy, misty ocean. No one was talking but their faces were glowing with awe.

There were whales! Dozens of them, gracefully feeding, rolling, and waving their tales in the rolling waves. They were not even 30 feet from the shore. There was a break in the rain and we stood in awe, watching these beautiful whales for almost an hour before the rain started again.

It was breathtakingly magnificent.

I share this to say, had we allowed the rain to deter us from continuing on our mission, we would have missed out on one of the most spectacular, memorable experiences of our lives.

Reflecting on this experience, I can’t help but notice the similarities between our journey to see the whales, and the journey to mental wellness. Sometimes the mental fog of depression, the deep pain of grief, the strain of a difficult relationship or the intense experience of anxiety is so painful and so real that we can lose hope for better days to come.

When our mental health is suffering, it may be difficult to believe that it is worth pushing through the rain. Life brings difficulty and challenge and sometimes our mental health suffers painfully. Sometimes it doesn’t feel worth the energy to keep going, and sometimes there is little energy to pull from.

If that is you, may I encourage you to “find the locals”. Find the people who have been where you are and have made their way through or are making their way through. Find a safe place to be honest about where you are: a friend; a therapist; a family doctor. Find a tiny action that moves you in the direction of feeling better: a short walk; watching a sunset; a warm bath; coffee with a friend. Small, actionable steps will lead you through to better days.

And trust me when I say, some of your best days may still be found in the rain.

2020: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"

It was a year ago when I had the idea to write a blog series entitled, “Living with Contradictions”. Little did I know at the time, that this year would bring a pandemic, and along with it anxiety, panic, anger and frustration—dividing friends, families and communities along many different lines.

Words like lockdown, quarantine, social distancing have become part of our daily vernacular. The ugly reality of racism, divisive politics and the struggling economy have all been in the media spotlight this year.

I think most of us would agree, we are ready to move on from 2020, and step into a new year with hope for better days ahead.

Yet, in keeping with my theme of “living with contradictions”, I think there is value in pausing to balance our narrative of 2020. Yes, this was a difficult, unprecedented year. We have all been impacted in some way by COVID-19. Some have been impacted more deeply than others, because of personal situations: grief, depression, anxiety, domestic violence, sickness, relationship challenges etc.

As a mental health professional, I have witnessed the depths of pain and challenge this year has brought to so many. As a human, my heart breaks and I grieve with you.

I see you.

Yet, when life becomes challenging and overwhelming, it’s easy to focus on everything that isn’t going well. It becomes a discipline to remember the gifts this year has also brought us, perhaps in the form of family, friends, neighbours or maybe nature.

When we lean into our challenges and struggle and fight for hope and health, we will find that our greatest strengths and resiliencies are born out of our areas of deepest struggle.

Sometimes these changes happen slowly, which is why it’s important to look back so we can see how far we have come.

I would encourage you to take a moment with a pen and paper and reflect on 2020 using some of the following questions as a guide:

What was your favourite moment?

What did you learn about yourself this year?

Who were the people you drew strength from?

If you could go back to the beginning of 2020, what advice would you give yourself for the year ahead?

What energized you? What drained your energy?

These are just a few questions to get you started. You don’t have to be a great writer to jot down these thoughts. The purpose is just to take a moment or two to balance your perspective on the year.

I’m confident you are more resilient, courageous and strong then you might realize.

Happy journaling, and cheers to 2021!

Is Self-Compassion Selfish?

This is my second post in my series called, “Living with Contradictions”. In this post, I want to talk about self-compassion, because it’s one of those topics, many of us feel conflicted about—often because self-compassion is confused with self-absorption.

With words like “selfie” now being included in the dictionary, and the invention of front facing cameras and “selfie-sticks”, it’s hard to imagine how any more focus on self would be helpful or necessary.

But unlike self-absorption, self-compassion is a healthy focus on self.  When the camera is off, and we are unplugged from social media, how do we actually see ourselves? If no one “likes” our pictures or comments on our social media posts, how do we feel about ourselves? How do we talk to ourselves in the privacy of our own thoughts?

Asking our self these kinds of questions help us understand what kind of relationship we have with our self.

A healthy focus on self doesn’t have a self-indulgent, self-serving focus, but a focus of genuine interest and care. It’s easier for most of us to be kind, gentle and patient with others then it is to be kind, gentle and patient with our self.

Yet, we spend more time with our self then we do with any other human on the planet, so how we feel and think about our self is really important for our mental health.

…we spend more time with our self then we do with any other human on the planet, so how we feel and think about our self is really important for our mental health.

Imagine the following scenario with me:

You are driving in rush hour traffic on a major highway. You are already a half hour late for a job interview, and your gas tank is on empty. Can you feel the stress? Now imagine someone is sitting in the car with you, blaming you for your lack of planning and rehearsing all of your shortcomings, not just from today but from years before: “You are a loser! How could you be so late for an interview? No one will ever hire you! You can’t even remember to put gas in the car! Remember when you were late for your last interview because you slept in?”

Many of us recognize that critical passenger as our own self-talk.

Let’s re-imagine being stuck in traffic, late for the interview, with no gas in the tank but this time, imagine the words being spoken to you are words of reassurance and kindness such as: “It’s not your fault that traffic is busy today. Maybe next time it would be helpful to leave earlier, and check the gas sooner, but there will be other job interviews, and you will be better prepared next time.”

When we are able to soothe our self with kind words, we are practicing self-compassion. Self-compassion isn’t about denying reality. It’s about treating ourselves like we would a good friend.

If you struggle with self-criticism or perfectionism, learning how to offer compassion to yourself is an incredible discipline to learn and practice. There are lots of great resources to help us improve the way we speak to ourselves. One practical workbook is “Mind over Mood” by Dennis Greenberger (with lots of exercises to help identify thoughts that are worsening your mood, and replacing them with more helpful, self-compassionate thoughts). And of course seeking out a therapist, who can support you in learning how to be kind to yourself is another great step.