I'll shift your perceptions for you...

I remember being quite confused when someone told me that perception was reality and that happiness was something I already had, even though I was in the throes of depression. But I let it simmer for a while and tried to see if I could talk myself into happiness using positive thinking, the law of attraction and gratitude. Those are definitely useful tools, but the underlying unhappiness always seems to come back. And that's perfectly normal.  According to this book, the Myth of Stress, heaping positive thinking on top of negative thoughts does not work -- changing your beliefs is your only hope. The book takes a cognitive approach to emotions with a basic belief that our thoughts are at the centre of our being. Shift your perceptions and suddenly everything is a little brighter. A good friend of mine is particularly adept at doing this -- challenge your beliefs by holding what you think makes you miserable under the microscope, put yourself in the other person's shoes, think of something worse and get yourself out of your funk.

I was a bit skeptical at first because everyone seems to have some kind of gimmicky methodology to sell that will fix your problems. But this book's tool appealed to my sense of logic and need for process. The exercise is designed to help you challenge stressful beliefs. You start by stating something that you think is causing you stress -- e.g. "She should see things my way". You write down how that makes you feel, how you react and rate the degree to which you believe the statement to be true. Then you negate the statement, preface it with "In reality, append "at this time" -- e.g. "In reality, she should not see things my way, at this time" and brain-storm all the reasons why that could be true. In this example "In reality, she should not see things my way, at this time because ... I could be wrong, she has a different set of experiences than I do, I may not have all the facts at hand, there are others who support her view, etc. You go back and rate the original stressor statement and find that it's no longer the source of your pain.

What I find remarkable about this exercise is that the process instantly diffuses my stress. If forces me to see the other side and by doing so I realize that what I thought about I situation may not be true after all. It takes a bit of practice and it's easy to turn it into an exercise in making excuses. But if you keep it constructive and dig deep to the source, it's an effective way at challenging your negative beliefs and essentially removing them.

Re-thinking a career change

In my quest for happiness ... or change? I decided a few weeks ago that I should seriously look into event planning as a career option. It appeals to my need to get things done, stay organized and execute a well thought out plan. Events happen on time and then they're over whereas my projects drag on for years and never quite finish. I don't have any experience or credentials but I can feel it in my bones that I would be really good at planning events -- galas, races, conventions, ... the Olympics! I'm almost ready to commit to pursuing this. Except for days like today that remind me I am a complete bitch when I am 'planning' for an event like this camping trip. I run around like a mad woman, barking orders, pulling out my hair, screaming in exasperation. My partner and the kids finally left the house, thank goodness. My loved ones who know me best know that when I am in pre-event mode (be it a party, vacation, important meeting) there is no getting in my way. My stress level is through the roof and no one likes me. Is this the career I really want? Hmmmmm.

My Story - 4th decade

Motherhood is what's defined my 30s. I've been blessed with three amazing children who have enriched my life beyond what I thought motherhood would do to change me. I have them to thank for re-assessing my values, building emotional bonds and striving to lead by example. I'm finally choosing to live my life according to my own rules, listening to my intuition and striving for inner peace. I'm also living with a gentler me -- less abrasive, judgmental and controlling. I care way less about so many things that used to worry me -- especially other people's opinions. I've re-discovered regular exercise to be my life saviour. I'm also more interesting -- I read more, I'm exposed to more subjects, I enjoy hearing about new ideas. I think I'm more balanced.

Now that I'm past the baby stage, I feel ready to take on a new professional challenge. I know that change is just around the corner. Whether it's fulfilling the dream of running my own business or leading a team, I know I'm ready for it. If I were my own Intuitive I'd say that my 40s will see me fulfilling my own needs more, accepting instead of fighting, continuing to love myself and listening to my Wise Self more. My goodness, this sounds like a 40s manifesto. Can't wait to see if I'll be right!

My story - decade #3

I'm not having as much fun journalling my life as thought I would mainly because there's not a lot to say -- nothing memorable stands out. My life looks pretty dull and ordinary. But who knows, the process might give me insight. My twenties were both glorious and heart-breaking. I landed a job as a computer programmer for a high tech giant that gave me the best training and experience a 22 year old could ever hope for. Even though I aspired to be a business analyst, I was told that I needed to do time in the trenches before moving up and for whatever reason, I still haven't landed that dream BA job. At about that time I broke up with my first love to be in another serious relationship with a fellow business student. He was a small town, white bread, adorable, super friendly and sensitive guy and we had instant chemistry. But I was too young to live with my boyfriend in a new city with no other friends. And he was an intimacy junkie that lost interest as soon as the shimmer of new love wore off. It took me a full year to get over our break-up. And of course, the most painful experiences teach us the most. I mourned the loss of our future more than I did our relationship -- marriage, a house and kids. I thought the fighting and lack of intimacy was normal and was so fixated on the prize at the end that I could not see the relationship crumbling before me. I took my relationship baggage and started a new -- travelled, got my own place, learned a new technology, developed new interests, dropped 30 lbs and moved back to my hometown. I partied hard -- dated a lot of scrubs before meeting my partner. By then I was ready to trust again. He was the stability that I needed and we spent lots of time playing vb, golfing, running, cooking. He was and still is my #1 activity companion. My career was in full bloom during the high tech boom. I was an over-priced consultant livin' high on the hog in my very own house. Got married a few months before turning 30 and finally believed that happily ever was possible

My story - decade #2

Even though I feel like an ingrate for pissing all over my upbringing, I'll move onto journalling about the 2nd 10 years because it's always fun to reminisce. The teen years were not fun -- acne, perms gone wild, obsessive crushes, marathon phone calls and rebellious drinking sums it up. My first job in retail at the mall forced me to grow-up and learn to find my own way. It was the first time I got to know people outside of my age/socio/eco demographic -- middle-aged divorcees, party-crazed university students, single parents, Lebanese, French Canadians, Pakistanis. These were real people and I'll never forget them. Figure skating, piano, swimming gave way to shopping, working and boyfriends. I was one of those girls who plunged into serious relationships that lasted years. My first love was five years my senior, Persian and an asshole. But he adored me, his trophy girlfriend (hard to believe I was once sweet and submissive) and we were gaga for each other in spite of the crazy fights. I held on for longer than I should have probably because my parents vehemently disapproved of me dating a Muslim. They never even met him in person FFS. I know that I'm supposed to stop blaming my parents, but we lost of a lot of years and did a lot of damage to our familial relationship. I vow to never kick my kids out and to accept whomever they choose. Definitely found my groove in university amongst other capitalist, vocal Type As in B. School. The awkward puritan teen had become a hot (who wasn't hot in their prime) and confident young woman, ready to take on the business world and make a name for herself.

Wow, when I look back at how different my values were and how juxtaposed my partner is to my first serious boyfriend, it's hard to believe that I'm the same person. But then again, I still act and feel like I'm in my 20s.

My Story - First Decade

Here's goes my grand summary of the first ten years:
I was raised in a middle-lower class military family by traditional, non-educated, religious and unhappy parents. Afraid of my Dad's iron fist and unappreciative of my Mom's abdication of self for the sake of mother hood, I was always pushed to excel -- in school, figure skating, the piano, swimming. I don't remember ever stepping out of line other than back talking to my poor mother who did all of the child rearing and household duties while my Dad lost himself in TV and the church. My parents yelled a lot over religion -- my Dad pushing us more and more towards right-wing fundamentalism and my Mom trying desperately to maintain some degree of moderation, although her faith in prayer remains strong today. Both of my parents pinched pennies to invest in our future -- university was not optional and figure skating and piano were meant to provide back-up teaching careers. As such, my clothes were often cheap and out-of-style hand-me-downs. That combined with my awkward nerdiness did not set me at the top of the social ladder. My friends were few, but close. I loved barbies, I loved boys. I daydreamed a lot. My mother still talks about how I needed to be 'pushed' and motivated by dessert ... hence the chubbiness, which did not drop off until puberty. I was also raised to be self conscious of my mixed nationality -- kept indoors in the summer for fear of getting too dark, and suspicious of those who were curious about my nationality, I was instructed to just tell people I was 'Canadian'. I also didn't know that I had two half brothers until I was older because my Mom felt she had shamed her Goan family by marrying a divorcee (which 'til this day, I still don't get). I had an imaginary friend and I was happy in my own world with my own rules, where I was pretty and blond.
Whoa! Lots of childhood neurosis here. But who really looks back with fondness on their childhood? There are a lot of happy memories too -- camping, Christmas, playing in my neighbourhood, even watching TV. My parents did the best they could. My Mom sacrificed her life for us and I feel like an ingrate by cutting up my family life with this post. It was typically dysfunctional in the most non-intrusive and non-damaging way possible. :-)

Journaling

I've been reading a book that strongly recommends journaling your personal history in order to gain some insight on patterns you may not be aware of. It suggests writing about major events in each decade and how they affected me -- when did I feel loved, cherished, angry, betrayed, fully seen and heard? What type of people keep popping up in my life? Who has really influenced me and how? And how have certain parts of my life affected how I carry out my life now?

It can't hurt, although I think my life is pretty nondescript. Thankfully I have not known any real tragedy. Nor have I ever had to do without. I am truly blessed. Writing out my personal story should also give me a better appreciation for all that I've been through. This book even promises a profound sense of self-love. Might as well jump start any therapy I'm headed for. :-)