A very thoughtful member of our Anxiety & Depression Group opened our meeting on Wednesday by saying he's been thinking about how people are like seedlings. He told us that he's been thinking about his own personal growth, and wondering if the parallels between soft, young plants and people could be helpful in reaching the next step in his personal development. He asked for our help in comparing the elements and conditions necessary to make a seed grow into a healthy and strong plant with those needed for us to grow toward our human potential.

Together with the rest of our group, we came up with lots of similarities. We first created a list of necessities for plants. We pictured a seed and what we'd want to give it in order to help create the living thing it was destined to become. We started with soil, then fertilizer, then all the other factors we're all so familiar with when it comes to horticulture or gardening or whatever natural science we're familiar with in the realm of fostering life.

And here are the things we came up with that people need to grow:

Love/Support
Breath
Patience
Care
Diet/Medication/Practice
Purpose/Motivation
Productive Reflection
Self/History
Environment

Do you see how these components compare? They turn out to be perfectly aligned. Here they are together:

Next, we talked about what's missing in our lives; the things that either hold us back from the change we're looking for, or the things we somehow don't have enough of. In other words, what changes do we need to make in the care and feeding of ourselves, to get us farther along in our development.

It all starts with the soil, our environment. All seed need nurturing soil, suited at least partially to their basic needs. Jesus of Nazareth is said to have given this parable: "A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell along the path and was trampled underfoot, and the birds of the air devoured it." The lesson goes on to say, "Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, some multiplying thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times." We can't ignore our environment. Several of our members are contemplating, and working toward changing where they work, where they live, where they play, just to nurture their inner nature.

Some of us noticed that our history is holding us back. That all-important seed that we started with, the self we were born as, has sustained so much damage in the early years, those dark historical times we'd rather not remember, that we feel stunted; stopped before we start. But we are not our histories. We can choose to leave the past in the past, and create our own future. It's a choice. Not an easy one, but ours to make.

Then we looked at our internal fertilizer. How do we reflect on ourselves? That is, what does our self-esteem have to do with how we choose to grow up and become thriving adults? We can engage in negative self-talk and continue the job our damaged caregivers started, or we can build ourselves up. We can repeat the positive affirmations we get from those around us who can see the good in us. We can choose to see ourselves as we truly are: priceless gifts to the world.

We talked about our purpose next; our calling, our raison d'être, as the French existentialists called it, our "reason for being." Without recognizing and embracing our purpose in life and feeling the motivation that comes with our natural desire to aspire, it's like starving our inner plants for water. We'll wither without a cause.

And the care we would give to a young plant, or a puppy, or a baby bird, how can we withhold this care from ourselves? Aren't we as important as these "lower, innocent" life forms? Or is it that we see ourselves as lower still? Is guilt or shame a factor that inhibits our self-care? We must not stop asking these important question, every day, if our seedling is to succeed. And the "correct" answers will point to proper diet, adequate physical exercise, appropriate medical attention, and attuned psychological/spiritual practice. We meditate not just to feel better right now, but to nurture that nebulous inner light we call a soul. Does it endure after death? Was it here before we were born? These questions are unanswerable. But the benefit we get form attention to this aspect of our selves is immediate; and the here and now is really all we have. Our long-term well-being is nothing but a trillion here-and-nows strung together.

We all agreed that patience is a difficult element to maintain. The time it takes an acorn to become a towering oak is indeed long. The process cannot be rushed. It can seem like progress is too slow, or even nonexistent. But where would any of us be without patience? Growing a human is not easy, even when all conditions are ideal. And it's downright hard for us average folks. Do oaks have it any easier? Let's compare: How to grow an oak tree.

I have to be honest. As a group, we did not come up with air as a necessary element in growing our seedling. But as I drove home, I realized I needed to breath as I digested all we covered in our hour and a half of "being" together. Paying attention to our breath has been honored in the east for millennia. The west is finally catching up. There must be something to it, right? Here's a test: Stop reading and take three slow deep breaths. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. With eyes closed. Feel your belly as you do it. Feel your muscles. Do it now. <insert 3 deep, slow, life-giving, growth-enhancing breaths here>

How was that? Did you notice why air is important? Why paying attention to our relationship with the atmosphere we are blessed with is essential? I hope so. I did. We're all in this together, you know, we breathers.

The last element that I think is essential to our progress, our fulfillment, and our happiness, is the light we let into our lives: the illumination our support system shines on us. There are only two motivators in life: fear and love. If we aren't moving toward what and whom we love, the things and ideas we are passionate about, what we want that's deeply good, then we're moving away from something else: fear. Our support system is our light. Our friends, our families, our coworkers, our acquaintances, the people on the street, everyone, all around us, everywhere; we are bathed in light from the energy we get from these other beings. Is the light at the right wavelength? If it's not, or something is filtering it out, we've got a problem. We're in the dark.

I now offer my sincere thanks to my anonymous friend from group, who pointed out this new way to look at self-change. By considering all the necessities a fragile, young plant needs to get beyond surviving, and reach toward thriving, we receive new insights into our own growth. You've given me much to think about, sir! (And think about...and do.) I thank you.

"I may not know what narcissism is, but I know it when I see it." That was the feeling from some of us on Wednesday night's get-together. We shared old tales of parents who were like the center of their own solar system, around which the family spun. Chaos abounded, fueled by out-of-control egos and nuclear-powered emotion. While some of these tales dated back decades, some continue to today, playing out like Greek tragedies in the lives of planetary adult children.

You may recall from Roman mythology that Narcissus was a beautiful, proud, and much admired hunter, who is too self-absorbed to acknowledge the love of Echo, a talkative nymph. This blow causes Echo to waste away and disappear, leaving only her voice behind. Nemesis, the spirit of divine retribution, being displeased at this turn of events, lures Narcissus to a pool as a demonstration and a test. In those dark, still waters, Narcissist fell in love with his own reflection--not realizing it was merely an image--and, unwilling to separate from the object of his desire, starved to death, disappearing as Echo did, leaving only a narcissus flower behind.

We all encounter narcissists. We see them on the news, we work with them, we sometimes live with them. They are awesome and unforgettable to behold. There's even a serious, (often imperishable) mental illness they can call their own: narcissistic personality disorder. This condition, according to the current edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, is marked by a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, a need for admiration, and a lack of empathy that begins in early adulthood and is present in a variety of contexts. Self-important, they consistently inflate their accomplishments, are boastful and pretentious; and if they love anything, it would appear it is only themselves. They are convinced they are superior, special, and unique. They are inter-personally exploitative, they take advantage to achieve their goals, they are envious of others and believe other are envious of them.

But the universe seeks balance, and narcissists are balanced by people often called codependents. There's a disorder designated for the most extreme of us in this category: dependent personality disorder. But just as most narcissists don't have a "mental illness," the same goes for most codependents. We are, for the most part, just ordinary, everyday people who have a weakness for one-sided relationships. This weakness is an adaptation that we fell into long ago, often as the path of least resistance—(but with the most suffering). It's like a game we don't even realize we're playing. The more we give, the less we get, though we keep on trying. It's like being addicted to certain types of puzzles: impossible puzzles to solve, because the rules don't make sense.

We could call this The Pleasing Puzzle. We struggle continuously, trying to answer the question, "How can we please this person whose attention, acceptance, appreciation, affection, and/or allowing we feel we must have to be happy?" This puzzle cannot be solved. Because pleasing a narcissist requires a level of giving that no one can maintain indefinitely.

Does any of this sound familiar? If you are anxious or depressed, it could be because you've been playing the Narcissism Game for too long. You may even feel like there's no way to stop playing. But I might disagree with you on that. I might suggest looking at some new ways to deal with the narcissists in your life. I might want to talk about boundaries. I'd love to have this conversation in group with you some time. That's what we did last Wednesday. And it felt good.

Do you want to read a good book on narcissism? I recommend The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists. You will recognize many of the destructive influences in your life in this book, as well as recognizing yourself, and the part you play in this big, crazy dynamic. You will also learn to not only see your part in the narcissism/codependency dynamic differently, but to behave differently. Honoring fair boundaries changes the dynamic. It can create a new way to live; and a way to be happier, more fulfilled, and more symptom-free. It's not easy to change a game you've been playing your whole life, but it's doable. I promise.

If you want to watch a frightening moving about a fictional narcissist, I recommend There Will Be Blood. Watch the trailer and see if it reminds you of anybody.

The narcissists in our society, and in all societies, are spawned by other narcissists. Ironically, this is the same place codependents come from. The narcissism/ codependency dynamic is a very complicated vortex of energy and information and history and emotion that can be hard to comprehend when you're in it. In group, we try and step outside our vortexes for 90 minutes each week. We try and help each other get an objective glimpse at the lives we are too busy living to truly look at. We can sometimes see ourselves in the other group members.

The classic stories and myths did not come out of thin air. They are based on real people. Those real people can seem bigger than life. And we can feel very small next to them. But our story is that of a hero's journey. And heroes don't give up, just because the road is steep, and the forest is dark. Your journey is a heroic one. And the helpers you meet along the way, are all around you.

Anyone familiar with CBT, cognitive behavior therapy, knows that we're supposed to be able to improve our mood (and our life) by thinking differently. Is this true? Can we really feel better and even do better by thinking better? Is there a reason insurance companies push for this style of therapy, or is it just an old habit? Is it really an "evidence-based best practice," and if so, what does that mean? These are all good questions, but there's only one way to know if CBT is right for you. It's a very simple approach to self-change (though not always easy), so why not just try it and see for yourself if it makes sense for you?

First, let's step back and get some background. CBT (originally called CT, cognitive therapy), developed by Aaron Beck in the 60's proposes that thoughts, feelings, and behavior are all connected, and that we can attempt to overcome personal difficulties by identifying and changing unhelpful or objectively inaccurate thinking. To graphically illustrate the inter-connectedness and interdependence of these three functions, I often draw a circle, with double-headed arrows showing the flow between thoughts, feelings, and behavior.

Most of us have experienced that if we change one, the other two will change automatically. CBT emphasizes changing the thoughts that can start a cascade of negative results. We don't need studies to tell us (though many have shown this) that by making simple changes to our thinking patterns, we can have control over our unwanted mood states, such as anxiety and depression.

I don't want to exclude another, similar (almost identical) therapy: REBT, rational emotive behavior therapy (originally called RET, rational emotive therapy), developed by Albert Ellis at about the same time as CBT (Ellis and Beck were energetic rivals). According to the Albert Ellis Institute's website, REBT "is an action-oriented psychotherapy that teaches individuals to identify, challenge, and replace their self-defeating thoughts and beliefs with healthier thoughts that promote emotional well-being and goal achievement." Sounds a lot like CBT, right? Well, it is. REBT uses an alphabetical system to track the cascade of internal cognitive/emotional events that lead to sadness, agitation, worry, fear, anger, and all the rest.

Here are the ABC's of REBT:

A: Activating event
B: irrational Belief
C: Consequences of having the belief about A
D: Disputing the irrational belief
E: Effective new thinking

Here's an example I found on StressGroup.com:

A. (Activating event): Drunk people outside, making some noise.

B. (irrational Belief [iB] I have about A): They MUST NOT make any noise.

C. (Consequences of having those beliefs about A): When noisy drunk people pass in the street outside late at night and wake me up, I Feel angry. It feels bad. I lie awake feeling angry and upset and don't get back to sleep for a long time.

D. (Dispute the irrational Beliefs [iB’s] in B by turning them into questions and answers): WHY shouldn't they make any noise? Where is that commandment written in stone? Where is the evidence?  Again, who made you Supreme Ruler of the Universe dictating how people Should or Must act? 

E. (Effective new thinking. Substitute something rational instead of B): Drunk people are often noisy, but it's no BIG deal. I don’t like it, but I can deal with what I don’t like.  Maybe I will touch base with them in the morning (when they are sober).

Here's a recording of Ellis discussing his theory: RET Example

And here's a real-world example inside that thoughts-feelings-behaviors circle that might "feel" familiar:

On Wednesday, we looked at a list of ten common cognitive distortions. Which ones showed up in your life this past week? In our group, we shared our individual usual suspects. But regardless of which thinking traps we fall in to, the process toward better outcomes is the same. We dispute the faulty thoughts and replace them with a more objective truths. Will the truth set you free? Free from symptoms and counterproductive cycles? There's one way to find out. Our disruptive thinking-feeling-behaving patterns didn't happen all at once. They were installed bit by bit, over a period of years. Undoing that damage will take time. The good news is that you get to decide how much time to spend on your healing. Try these simple techniques to change the way you approach life's stressors and let me know how it goes. What have you got to lose?

Tonight, we talked about anger, an emotion that fuels anxiety and depression the same way that joy fuels peace. Dictionary.com defines anger as "a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong." A wrong. That's what it's all about. Or is it? Is it really that simple? You get wronged, so you get angry? Why doesn't everybody get angry at the same things, and in the same ways? And why don't they do what you do when you get angry? And what explains those differences between us?

When you feel discredited, disrespected, dismissed, or any other of the dreaded "disses" we can face in life, and you feel your rage rising, it's important to remember the old, familiar, counseling chestnut, "It's never about what it's about." We always have to ask, "What's the thing under the thing?" or "What's the old feeling that feels like a new feeling?" In Requiem for a Nun, William Faulkner wrote, "The past is never dead. It's not even past." Ain't it the truth! Those of us who at times have to deal with anger bubbling up from deep within (and yes, I include myself), would be well-served to take a moment to look back and search for the "wrongs" we've never fully processed.

How do we process our anger- and resentment-producing history? Look back to when the old disses were first presented to you, by those with power and control, when you had none. Remember them. Feel them. Recall the "strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence" being aroused as before. Back then, you might have had to hide those feelings, or submerge them, or separate yourself from their reality, in order to get along, or to survive. But you don't have to do that now. Now, you can feel those old wrongs. You are safe.

After you've remembered those first disses, it's time to remember the next 100 times you were dissed. And the next 100. And the next. No wonder you're angry that someone cut you off on the freeway, or took credit for your work or idea, or was rude to you! These new instances are just tipping your anger scale. A scale that's been filled up and never dumped. Present circumstances and events that remind you of the extreme power and control differential you lived with for so long seem to call for extreme anger dumping measures. An outburst, a fight, an emotional explosion. but they're really calling for processing of the past. A past that is never past.

One group member was troubled when someone with a nice car took up took up two prime parking spaces (presumably to prevent damage to his or her object of desire). Who hasn't felt incensed at this kind of selfish, antisocial behavior? Why should that so-and-so get two spots, just because he wants one? But really. Isn't the real questions something more like, "Why didn't I get the space I would've liked when I was at home?" Or "Why did I get pushed around by someone who just wanted to?"

The great Reggae legend, Peter Tosh (co-founder of The Wailers, with Bob Marley and Bunny Wailer), wrote a song called "Where You Gonna Run" about a world "faced with problems and many illusions." He writes about our disguises in this song, a metaphor for fear and confusion. Why is the world so unfair? so full of wrongs? so frustrating? The answer, of course, is the same for these and the other "why" questions posed earlier. The answer, sadly, is nothing more than a bumper sticker: "Shit Rolls Downhill." It also rolls on through time. People with power and control over you in the past were wronged by people with power and control over their lives in their pasts. And so it goes.

So we don disguises. Our responses to the unfairness. We withdraw into social anxiety. Or we stay in bed. Or we submerge into addictions. Or we get madder and madder. Without really acknowledging why. In the song, Tosh's recommendation as "the only solution" is love, wisdom, and understanding (he uses the patois word "overstanding," to emphasize, elevate, and promote this under-appreciated human quality). But is that really possible? To overcome the unfair wrongs with love?

Some of the people in your past, and in your present, who had the power to hurt you, didn't. They were wronged and didn't pass those wrongs on to you. Why not? Another good question. Did they contain some innate wisdom to lift them above the angry vortex? Fortunately, Mr. Tosh (who was received the ultimate wrong when he was murdered in his prime by a burglar in 1987) has an answer to this conundrum, in the form of another song: "Pick Myself Up." In it, he wants to fly away from his troubles, but he knows he can't. He chooses instead to access his childlike resilience we are all born with. Children would never learn to walk without this resilience. They bounce back. Is love the magical polymer that makes them so springy? And if it is, can we remember how to use it?

Instead of giving up and giving in to anger, take a hard look in the mirror. Look way back at yourself. Look back at yourself as small child, if you can. His or her resilience got pretty worn down. But you can rebuild it. Talk to a friend about these anger ideas. Talk to a counselor. Come to group. We'll help you pick yourself up, and dust yourself off, and start all over again. There is freedom from anger. It's not just a matter of accepting that the world isn't fair, or a matter of working for justice to even the playing field for you and others. Or is it?

What will your way out of the destructive cycle of anger, repercussions, and resentment be? How will you stop the cycle and not pass on all those old wrongs? I'm convinced that the process of forgiving yourself for your lack of power and control in the past will be a big part of your transition. That process is completely under your control. You have that much power, now. You can stand. Here's to new beginnings.

This Wednesday, we shared some successes. We talked about getting good grades, about not succumbing to anger for two whole weeks, about pulling ourselves back together after getting over the shock of more bad news, about getting a new job that doesn't make us want to scream.

It was good to share these victories with each other, after sharing so many defeats. But what's the difference? We know that equanimity is that Zen state of mind where we put things into a universal perspective of centeredness. A perspective in which nothing matters as much as we used to think it does. The successes and the defeats are both swings away from the middle. The middle is equanimity.

I will admit that I have spider webs in my garage. I was considering doing some cleaning the other day and was reminded of a story my father used to tell me. He told it to me many times. He was a man who suffered many defeats in his life as well as experiencing many successes. He always seemed to me like someone who didn't mind the defeats all that much. He was an Optimist. In fact, he was high up in the government of the service organization he belonged to called The Optimist Club. Yes, that's a real thing:

Anyway, he was a very annoying optimist. He lived with a lot of physical pain after several catastrophic car and plane crashes, but he never, ever complained. His positive disposition and outlook made it very impractical for me to complain. This gave me yet another reason to resent him. He focused on what was good in his life. What a bastard! But back to the spider story:

It seems there was a prisoner who kept trying to escape from his prison. Every time he tried, we would be recaptured, re-imprisoned, and time would be added to his already-long sentence. Just as he was ready to give up hope that he would ever be able to free himself, he noticed a spider in his cell. The spider had been trying to build a web but the prisoner had routinely been destroying it. Every time the spider started on the web, the prisoner would tear it down. Eventually, the entertainment value in ruining the spider's work was diminished to the point where the prisoner lost interest. Instead of defeating the spider's plans and he decided to let them unfold. He watched as the spider eventually completed the web.

Inspired, the prisoner resolved to never give up trying to escape. After all, weren't his plans as important as the spider's? Believe it or not, the prisoner finally succeeded. I imagine the moral of the story is "Never give up!" or something similar. If you had a different perspective, you might think the moral is "Never get caught!" Either way, I hadn't thought about this annoying story for many years. But as I looked at the webs in my garage, I was transported back to when I was a prisoner in my father's house. I'm speaking figuratively, of course. I was allowed to leave. And when I was able to, I did. But I stayed a prisoner for a long time after that. A prisoner in his cage of influence. But I digress. So, back to the garage.

I watched a crane fly get caught in the web I'd been looking at while drifting back on Memory Lane. That gangling, clumsy, careless fly squirmed and struggled and fought and did everything it could to get out. Meanwhile, the spider, beige colored and delicate, slowly ambled toward its target, taking its time, confidently and steadily approaching. But before the spider could attack, the crane fly escaped! Somehow, through sheer force of will, it had broken free of the web and was no longer ensnared. Sweet success!

Unfortunately, there was another web nearby, belonging to another spider. The hapless crane fly happened right into that neighboring web, and as luck would have it, this spider, a compact, black little beast, was very quick. Without hesitating, it ran directly to the exhausted fly and wrapped it up.

There must be lessens to be learned here. The first spider reminds me of times I have almost succeeded. For example, I almost won a tennis match in high school once. Just one. I was the number four boy on the team. Usually, number fours play against number fours on the other team. But I usually played against the other team's number one. This strategy made the other match-ups more favorable for out team, since all our players were effectively shifted up one level against their opponents. So I never had the opportunity to play someone at my own level. But one day, I had my chance. We were playing a fairly weak team, so instead of playing singles, I got to play mixed doubles. I played well, my partner played well, we played well together, and we were winning! I started to think about how great it was going to be to actually win. And that dreamy, victorious feeling, the one I'd never felt before, took over. I was no longer in the present, and we lost. Almost winning taught me a lot about staying present. It's still an unpleasant memory, 42 years later, but that's why the lessen endures. I usually remember to not get ahead of myself now.

The crane fly reminds me to never give up, and that when I'm out of the woods, there will always be new woods.

The little black spider who showed up from nowhere reminds me that coming in second is also not bad, and worth the effort.

Here is a TED talk about success and failure and how disorienting both can be. Elizabeth Gilbert introduces us to the ideas of "The absolute value of being flung away from your home." It ties in nicely with our group's previous discussions about feeling comfortable in the middle, even if we want to get out of a rut. She also talks about "the random hurricanes of outcome." She reminds us that attachment to outcome can hurt us twice. First, if we don't get what we want, and second, if we do. Here's her talk:

Let's end with two songs about the unavoidably cyclical nature of life. One spins up an image of a boy on a merry-go-round. The great, Canadian folk singer, Joni Mitchell, wrote it in the mid-60's about her up-and-coming musician friend and fellow Canuck (two years her junior), Neil Young. Listen to it, and keep in mind that both Joni and Neil had contracted and recovered from polio a decade before this song was written. (Young would later score a huge hit about aging and agelessness. Just, another reminder that time is not a straight line, but a spiral, ever beckoning us to resist the dizziness and continue pondering about what it all means, why we're here, and what we should do about it: Old Man).

Joni Mitchell's Circle Game from "Miles of Aisles."

What goes around does seem to eventually come around. And the scenery we think we've left far behind, before we know it, often returns to our mind's eye's field of vision, almost like clockwork. Philadelphia rocker, Todd Rundgren (three years younger than Neil Young) often is another artist who writes and sings about eternal truths. You could also call his musings existential paradoxes or Zen parables. Whatever you want to call this hypnotic song (it sounds to me like a spinning mandala), it's about the ups and downs of life's circles. This Utopian artist, longs to get off the "wheel of karma." Don't we all?

From "Another Live," here is Todd Rundgren's The Wheel.

Change is lonely. That's because it's all up to us. It's worth it, but it's hard. And the farther we get, the farther we have to go; because change makes us stronger, and more able to change. It never ends. We build webs, we escape webs, we win, we lose, then we wake up and do it again. Fulfillment can be exhausting, the quest for wholeness, discouraging. But we keep on.

Along the way, we can get help; and that's why we come together and form groups. To find help and to offer it up. Give and take. Around and around. In a circle. Together.