My way to win the battle between Black Dog and White Dog

Amazing how things converge.  I’ve complained previously about how I’m being ruled by my enthusiasms to the point of exploding!  Yesterday I attended a training session on statistics and I met another woman there who has been going through exactly the same process as I have. 

She is a great lady: working mom of three in the academic world in a management position until recently.  For anyone who knows the academic world: it’s as cutthroat as any multinational corporation and not for the fainthearted.  She’s fun and very likeable, so no hardcore tough cookie, either.  We could talk a bit about this stage of our lives we’re in and as always, just voicing things helps to process it.

Face the pain

Last night I decided to tackle the issues at hand.  I’ve taken some time the last week to talk to some people about where I’m at and the feedback my friends gave me gave me two insights about myself. The first is that I hardly ever never get to the point where what I’ve done or am is “good enough”. 

There’s always a next milestone and a better, faster way.  Of course, my view of me is also linked to that.  I can always be more patient, gentler, more giving, slower to anger (eish), more more more. 

The next, related, insight was that I keep the never-good-enough fire hot with a negative script.  This script is so automatic, I’m not even aware of it any more.  But it fuels the fire of not-good-enough!

Starve Cujo

I’ve decided to use the two-pronged approach – feed the white dog, starve the black dog.  At the moment, I’m not ever sure what the black dog is being fed, so I’ve started listening to what I tell myself to feed the Black slavering black Cujo.  Every now and then I jot down any Cujo thought I could capture! 

Example

I washed my car this morning.  Beeeeg accomplishment!  But then I started scripting that I should polish the car for it to be a good job. 

“Eish, I’m a bit tired after being in training the whole day and having to catch up with work today so don’t have energy for polishing.  But I have to otherwise the accomplishment of washing my car is wasted. ”  *Disappointment and anger*

 Just putting it down on (virtual) paper helped me see how much pressure I place on myself!  And how defeatist my reasoning is.  So encouraging because I could make a plan.  And loosen the relenting tyranny of “have to’s”.  So, I polished my bonnet, roof and boot.  Enough for today.  Will do the rest (maybe) when I was my car again, probably in July. 

White Dog 1 – Black Dog 0

Feed the White Dog

I’ve found that I can try and be as positive as I want to be, but there is no true transformation if I try to stuff my mind with just plain positive thoughts.  To me there is just no substitute for meditating on the Bible. 

So, to feed the White Dog, this scripture from Phil 4:8 (The Message) is what is hitting the mark at the moment. 

“Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.”

I’ve read how people call Paul a misogynist and other negative things.  I have nothing but praise for the man.  He was in jail while writing the above and I’m sure he’s learnt the hard way – like I am currently – that this is what is what works.  (I’m using the Message Bible at the moment.  Know it’s not the most accurate translation, but simple language is all I can cope with at the moment.) 

Noble thoughts

Now, I’m not exactly sure yet what meditating on true, noble, authentic etc things really mean, but I like “the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse” part.  It captures my mindset at the moment as I’ve been struck hard by the ugly in the world and have been focussing on the curse-worthy things of late.  So, I and my BFF joke about being able to have a noble thought now and then.  Well, she jokes more because I think she’s has more of them at the moment.  I’m still a bit flabberghasted at even thinking up noble things.  Even the Afrikaans word “eerbaar” doesn’t help me understand the concept of noble more.  But its still early in the battle.

The beautiful

The beautiful in my life is very much connected to being creative and my loved ones.  So, made a story book for Big Boy to prepare him for a new nanny and his Nana (current nanny) leaving.  I thoroughly enjoyed it.  The fact that he loves it made me so happy.  So, have decided that my creative outlet for the time being will be to make more books for Big Boy as he responds really well to being prepared for things through stories. 

His mom has a whole list of needed story areas so no needs analysis needed.  Last night I pencilled the story and illustrations to motivate him to go to sleep at night.  I love the whole process.  Can’t wait for the time later today I allocated to start painting and inking the book.  Think I’ll scan this book and post some of it. 

White Dog 2 – Black Dog 0

All in all had a good morning.  Even though I’m exposing how negative and unrelenting I am, I’m also happy because I am doing something about it.  Hope is a great thing. 

How about giving me some ideas for beautiful things I can meditate on.  Or tell me more about your Black and White dogs.  I’m sure I’m not the only one with this raging war going on inside of me or what?

Poo is important!

A few incidents with kids and poo made me want to write a bit about it.  Little weird? Think we adults have been trained to dislike poo too much.  And really, what's to like? 



celebrating poo!

Poo is goood

But poo is very important to a 2 to 3 year old.  My little friend, 30 month old Hannah, now knows all the organs in the digestive tract.  She particularly loves the colon cause that's where the poo is.  My niece, 4 month old Lily did an untimely #2 in the bath the other day.  Her 24 month brother Big Boy was a little shocked but also impressed.  And there's certainly a reason why Winnie's a Pooh-bear!

Good ole Freud
Freud was the first to make an issue out of kids and pooh.  His theory of psycho-sexual development described the Anal stage.  That is when 1 to 3 year olds get most of their "psychological energy" (I'm trying to make Freud sound a little less weird) from learning to control their pee and poo.  I know people don't like that the word "sexual" is connected to children, but this "sexual" refers more to a type of energy than to what we adults think of as "sexual", OK? 

Poo-pooing
Freud went on to say that the way parents handle toilet training is strongly connected to whether a child feels shame or accomplishment.  He linked anxiety-type personality traits to rigid, punitive toilet training.  Not sure how accurate that is.  What I do know is that children LOVE poo. 

Poo is power!
I think it has to do with how powerless they feel amidst powerful adults in a huge world.  Being able to produce something from your own body must be amazing if you feel powerless.  And to get that bit of autonomy and sense of "self" is one step in that journey of growing up. 

Poo punishment
Sometimes children use pee and poo to punish people.  I have heard of children that would poo inappropriately to show their disdain with parents.  To show that they don't agree.  In that sense, being able to hold back and produce poo at will is a way to have a little bit of control in relationships. 

poo=happy with friends

Constipation with a purpose
Amazing that not wanting to give poo often is to do with a child who feels helpless, angry or depressed.  A little client I had would always have a poo accident during play therapy.  She was raped and severely neglected in her first two years of life and didn't know how to appropriately attach to people. During play therapy, she started to gain control over relationships again.  She showed this by "giving" poo to me.  Fortunately she was old enough to do the toilet thing herself.  I'm not that good with "receiving" poo. 

Poo has energy?
Another child development theorist, Melanie Klein, often talked about the child "flinging faeces at the parent".  Not really flinging it, but trying to show some independence and control.  So, flinging refers to the psychological energy behind the act of pooing and how it sometimes is used to punish or show disdain. 

Poo Power

So, the journey of becoming aware of pee and poo is not just about being potty trained (and saving money on nappies - although an important consideration sometime!)  It is really about your child taking significant steps in her perception of accomplishment and sense of autonomy.  On the other hand, if not handled correctly, it could be your child’s introduction to anxiety and shame.

Yes, poo is important!

Tell me some of your kids' poo-stories. 

Failing your way to perfection

This Easter Weekend I went on holiday with 6 friends.  We went to South Africa’s Wild Coast.

Beautiful scenery. 

Amazing company. 

Good food.  Perfect.  What more could one want? 

In my case, it was failure.  Meh. 

The Hike
My friends heard about a hike one could take along the coast from the Hole-in-the-Wall to Coffee Bay.  Good deal: R60, including lunch and drive to the Hole-in-the-Wall from Coffee Bay. Approximately 3km.  Perfect. 

Hole in the Wall

Alas, my friends got their wires crossed.  It was a 3-HOUR walk, 10 kms!  Doh! Unfortunately, we only realised this when on the hike already.  Double Doh! 

The Promise of Success
Joseph, the guide said there will be 3 uphill climbs.  The 1^st will be the worst.  Thereafter, it will be easy.  Me, tough cookie that I am, reckoned I could survive one uphill battle.  So, there we went.  Past the Hole-in-the-Wall, the beach with the sand sculpture of a crocodile and the cows on the beach.  (I kid ye not.)

Beach Cows

Success Part 1
The 1^st climb was hard and nerve wrecking.  Very steep, slippery, close to the edge of the precipice.  Had to push the lady ahead of me up one particularly steep part.  A bit like a comedy as the only I could do this was to push her up by her bum.  Bummer.

I survived the 1^st climb and thought I might just survive the other 9kms. 

Next climb:  Huge, high, steep, long.  All the words you don’t want to be associated with a climb on what you thought would be a leisurely hike.

By the time I was halfway, everyone else had reached the top.  By the time I was reached the two-thirds way mark, I was huffing, puffing, had used my asthma pump 20 times in the hope it would give me superpowers and had nearly passed out about 3 times. 

Giving up?  Who me?

It was time to think about quitting. 

Now, I’m not a quitter.  Dysfunctionally so, actually.   I never give up unless I never started because I knew I would not be able to finish.  Yes, dysfunctional, but made sense to me until I sat on the mountain at Hole-in-the-Wall. 

There I realised that I will only push to the top of this mountain to prove to myself that I’m not weak.  But after the hill, I still have to walk and climb 9 kms! And I definitely didn’t have the strength to do another 9 km’s. 

If I complete the climb, I will not have enough energy to complete the rest of the hike...weakness.  But if I don’t complete the climb…weakness.   A true double-bind.  Either way:  my weaknesses were out in the open.    

Mountain of Defectiveness
Before you say to yourself that you are comfortable with your weaknesses:  I thought I was too.  That was before I hit my mountain of defectiveness.  There I was hit by a seriously unnerving insight into myself:  By continually proving to myself that I could do anything I set my mind to, I was also continually proving to myself that I can’t show my vulnerabilities and weaknesses to others.  I have lived a life of believing the lies of my failure-shame.

I should, therefore I am?
My failure –shame says that I am not allowed to feel pain.  I must push through the pain and complete the task, no matter how dysfunctional the task.  My failure-shame dictates that I keep these shame-areas from others because it is not OK to expect unnecessary compassion from others.  The more I disproved my weaknesses to avoid the discomfort of being aware of them, the more I strengthened my belief that my weaknesses are shameful.  That my weaknesses are me, not just things I don’t do well. 

The more I avoid the things I feel shame about, like giving up, the more I entrench the belief that giving up is shameful. 

Cry Freedom!
On that mountain, I cried my tears of frustration.  I cried tears of really feeling the discomfort of not being able to do everything I think I should be able to.  I cried because I have connected with a deep fear of being shamed for not being the tough cookie I thought I was.  I cried because I knew logically my thinking was flawed, yet the shame felt so real.  I cried because my friend Barbie clung to that steep slope with me without judgement and full of compassion for the battle of wills I was going through. 

I cried because the shame had held me from failing for so long.   

The Long Road to Carefree
We stayed on the mountain for about an hour, taking pictures, talking about God, fear, failure and meaningless things. 

We met a family coming down the mountain and had a great chat with them. 

We slowly walked down the mountain. 

We hitched a lift with a couple going to way we wanted to and got to know them. 

View from my mountain perch

At Coffee Bay, we ate homemade guava and banana ice-cream and shopped at Kaleidoscope Café.  We were free. We were carefree.  I was carefree!

Successful Failure
Later, my friends came back from the hike.  They were finished.  Apparently, there were definitely more than 3 hills.  The one mountain path was so close to the edge, they could see the carcasses of fallen goats and cows below.  My friend Riel said, looking back, he wished he was a more kind-hearted person.  Then he would’ve stayed behind to look after Barbie and me and saved himself the torture of the hike. 

And now?
Now I still shed a few tears when I connect with the stubborn pride that made me push through the things I was allowed to give up on. 

The dysfunctional relationships. 

The unfair work pressure. 

The unrealistic expectations I placed on myself. 

I went to the Wild Coast to have fun.  Instead, I went to fail.  Perfect!

Tell me about the lessons about failure you have learnt.