Note to self: Show up everyday and leave room for others to do the same.




















.
.
Note to self: Express gratitude, every day.

Note to self: Show up everyday and leave room for others to do the same.




















.
.
Note to self: Express gratitude, every day.

The truth is that I knew the title of today’s post even before I reviewed my photos from yesterday.
The truth is that when I think of the truth these days, I’m on the verge of tears. The truth is that the truth seems to depend what side you’re on. The truth is that I can never remember people being so divided about what the truth is.
The truth is that I keep inviting people in my therapy groups to write helpful truths on post-it notes (which, in truth, I call “stickies”).


The truth is that the post-it note above describes the Four Agreements and the truth is that you can read more about those here.
The truth is that I took more photos yesterday.
The truth is that I didn’t mean to take the last four.
The truth is that this sign …

… includes the word “true” in it, which I just noticed.
Here’s “True Colors” by Cindi Lauper.
Is it the truth that the truth was simpler in 1986, or is that just an illusion?
The truth is that I hope you share your truth below.
The truth is that I’m always grateful for those who help me create this blog and — of course! — to YOU, for being true.

Because the word “badly” appeared in a recent badly written tweet, I am badly focusing on it today.
I sometimes badly worry that I


That turkey was limping badly yesterday. I badly hope it’s okay.
When I badly worry that I’ve done something badly, I barely remember this goodly mantra: It’s good enough and I can make it better.
I shall now badly share some music by Badly Drawn Boy.
By the way, because my laptop is behaving badly, I am badly blogging today on my iPhone.
And, yes, I badly want comments on this post.
Bigly thanks to all who helped me create this badly post and — of course! — to my readers, whom I need badly.
Here’s a cognitive distortion that came up several times last week, in therapy groups and elsewhere:
Personalization.
You see yourself as the cause of some negative event for which you are not primarily responsible, and you conclude that what happened was your fault or reflects your inadequacy. Personalization distorts other people’s reactions into a direct, personal response to you. For example, if somebody seems upset, you immediately assume it was because of something you said or did.
In Thursday evening’s group, we were discussing this distortion antidote:
Use Helpful Reminders. Use helpful phrases to challenge habitual distortions. For example, for mind-reading or fortune telling, remind yourself “I’m not psychic.” Make a list of other phrases that help you, such as “I am doing the best I can,” “One step at a time,” etc. Consider sticking these reminders where you can see them.
One of the group participants said he’s put up this helpful reminder, where he works:
It’s not personal. It’s just business.
and he’s looked at that, thousands of times.
Personally, I too find it helpful to remember, over and over again, that most things are NOT personal. It also helps me to realize that human beings are built to take things personally. So, it takes constant practice to think, when other people do (or NOT do) things, that it’s
nothing personal.
If you’re wondering if something IS personal, there’s always this antidote, too:
Reality Testing. Ask people questions to find out if your thoughts and concerns are realistic or true. This is a particularly effective response to the distortion of mind-reading
Yesterday, as I was walking to work, thinking about what I had learned during the week, this old friend of a tune showed up in my earphones:
(found here on YouTube)
I made note of the title — “Nothing Personal” — and considered it blog-worthy.
Here‘s the Wikipedia entry for the old, familiar, and beloved album …
… where that song lives.
As I listened to “Nothing Personal,” I thought about all the personal time I’ve spent, enjoying the music of the amazing jazz players on that album:
Whenever I listen to Michael Brecker play, I feel a tinge of sadness, because of the too-soon loss of that
quiet, gentle musician widely regarded as the most influential tenor saxophonist since John Coltrane
— Charles J Gan (Associate Press), quoted on Wikipedia
As I was driving home last night, I heard the news that Charlie Haden, also on that album, and
— Nat Chinen (New York Times)
had died that day.
While this post may have started with “Nothing Personal,” it’s turned into something quite personal.
My small tribute to some who are missing, and still live on.
(“NIghtfall” with Charlie Haden, Michael Brecker, and Brad Mehldau, found here on YouTube)
Thanks to giant Charlie Haden, to gentle Michael Brecker, to group therapy (of all kinds), to every talented human being (alive or gone) who contributed to this post, and to you, personally, for participating here, today.
I have another blog, besides this one, called Ann’s Helpful Hints (re: Letting go of Judgment). It only has two posts: a list of cognitive distortions and a list of antidotes for unhelpful thoughts.
Here’s one of the antidotes:
Use Helpful Reminders. Use helpful phrases to challenge habitual distortions. For example, for mind-reading or fortune telling, remind yourself “I’m not psychic.” Make a list of other phrases that help you, such as “I am doing the best I can,” “One step at a time,” etc. Consider sticking these reminders where you can see them.
In therapy groups, I often put up a list of helpful phrases. The group members and I add to it, as we choose. In other words, the list is a work in progress (like everyone who comes to the groups).
I can remember a few of the phrases on that list, right now:
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.
The pain of the loss is directly related to the importance of the connection.
Less is more.
That last one was easy for me to remember, because somebody suggested it last night.
Here’s why I’m writing about this topic, today.
I want to include, in this post, some helpful reminders that people have written to me, lately.
If you wish to “connect” with me, please do.
While you are observing the anniversary of your 1st [pacemaker] implant, is it possible to view it as a celebration ( not painful) of life…YOUR life…& your continued presence in my life and the life of your other readers & friends & family.
Take heart, Ann.
Thanks to all, for every helpful reminder, phrase, or thought. Quoted or not. Expressed or unexpressed.
Here’s one more phrase, before I end.
Rest in peace.
Rest in peace, John Kennedy.
Rest in peace, all those I love, who have passed on before me.
I want to use that phrase for the living, now.
Here’s my wish, for all my “readers & friends & family.” (And for me, too.)
May we all rest, in peace, while still here on this earth.
Not perfectly. Not all the time. But as best we can.
Thanks so much, for reading today.
** Left to right: my father, my mother, Nell Zaitchik, Rabbi Samuel Zaitchik