Tag Archives: psychology

Small mountains

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We’ve all heard the term, ‘Making mountains out of molehills’, and understand what it means. What we don’t realize is how often we do it. It’s easy to see when someone else does it, but not us. No, our escalated concerns are little mountains. They aren’t mole hills. Other people do that, not us. Our concerns are real… or rather really big.

Except they are not.

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Being a school principal involves a lot of deciding how big to make an issue. Dismissing a problem is only allowing it to get bigger. Overreacting to a small problem can bring too much attention to it and make it bigger.

Being overly supportive of one side of an issue can make the other side escalate the size of the issue. Being neutral can equally exasperate the issue and create a mountain out of a molehill.

An insincere apology can be worse than no apology. Too harsh or illogical of a consequence can be as harmful as being too easy. Because to kids, to young adults learning to navigate the world, their mole hills are little mountains. To them the issues are not small.

But if we’re honest, we think our mole hills are mountains too… and that’s an important point to keep in mind when we get a little frustrated wondering why these little issues seem so big to everyone else.

The difference between a mountain and a mole hill might not be the size of the problem, but simply a matter of perspective. And that’s a perspective worth keeping in mind.

Rest Day

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I’ve been on a really positive tear recently in the gym. Both my cardio and weight training has seen positive gains.

And today I rest.

This has been an amazing year for consistency of workouts. Most weeks have been 6 or 7 days of working out at some level… 20-30 minutes of cardio, 5 minutes stretching, and then working a single muscle to fatigue. Or the 50+ minute Coquitlam Crunch walk, or a workout with my buddy at his gym.

Sometimes this year I’ve had weeks where I really didn’t take a break. That’s not hard to do when I’m only working one muscle strenuously besides doing my cardio. I can give my muscles a full rest before pushing them again, without having to take a day off. But my cardio always involves legs and when they get tight, my back gets tight.

This morning my body is telling me to take a break. I’m about to meditate and do a longer than usual stretch, and that’s it. It’s weird, I know how important rest is, but I usually plan my rest days before I get up in the morning and I can’t help but feel a little guilty skipping my workout today.

It’s a mental game I play with myself. It’s a fear of developing a bad pattern, of breaking the habit. So rather than just feeling good about my rest day, I sit with slightly guilty pangs. This is silly, of course, since what I’m doing is listening to my body. But part of me fears that an unplanned rest day like this is an excuse to have another one soon.

I should see my rest metaphorically as the space between musical notes, as the gaps that make the music. But instead I see my rest as a sign that I’m slipping, that my age is showing, that I’m getting soft. I’m not sure why I do this to myself? It’s a head game of rationalizations, rather than just letting go and enjoying the break. But maybe it’s also that I truly enjoy the way working out makes me feel, the sense of accomplishment before I even leave the house.

Still, I need to listen to my body, take the rest day… and feel good about it!

Leave a little undone

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Student leaders at my school planned a movie night and I ended up leaving school a little after 9pm last night. After I got home I decided to have a hot tub. With headphones on I slowly submerged myself, got comfortable, and put on some focus music on my meditation app. Why focus music? I was planning to do a meditation, but I was too tired and decided to reflect on the week rather than meditating, or listening to a podcast or to my book. I thought about a couple exchanges I had this week. One was feedback from a student. I love being in a school where students can give me candid feedback. In fact, we discussed radical candour and I have to say that the feedback he gave was very insightful. The other reflection is one I won’t share, because it would be too easy for the people involved to know that I was talking about them, and it’s not appropriate for me to share. 

That second reflection came shortly after I restarted my hot tub (after the 20 minute auto shut off). I thought I was going to sit for another round, but minutes later I felt too hot and that I was done. Yet, there I was pushing myself to stay in a bit longer. That’s when I realized that I was battling myself for no good reason. I was done, but I had just restarted the hot tub, and in my head it was my ‘duty’ to stay in it longer. This of course is a ridiculous thing to think, but I thought it. Then I reflected on how often we do this to ourselves.

We push to finish… almost everything.

  • Crappy movie? Watch it all anyway. Why? Maybe it will get better? Or ‘I’ve invested this much time, may as well see it through to the end’.
  • Eating a meal? I’m stuffed but there are still 4 more bites… May as well finish my plate. Or, ‘I don’t really want fries, but it was part of the meal deal, so may as well eat them’. 
  • An online survey. A game of solitaire when you know you aren’t going to win. A boring book. A career. A course you thought would be interested, but turns out to be boring and unfulfilling. 

There are a lot of quotes and adages about sticking with something, showing grit and fortitude, and not being a quitter… but there is a difference between quitting or giving up, and being smart about recognizing when something is no longer benefiting you. This is especially true for things where the only person expecting you to finish is you. Why force yourself to finish a book that you know you’ll end up being disappointed reading? Why stuff yourself with those last 4 bites? Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to leave a little bit undone.

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As an aside, the Northern Lights were out last night like I’ve never seen them before. (See my Facebook post.)

Battling the inner demons

I’m listening to a book now that has two main characters who are both cautiously interested in each other and doubting that the other person is interested in them. It’s a little painful because they should have recognized the other’s attraction by now. So, while as a reader I’m waiting for the inevitable, I do appreciate the author’s perspective on both characters self-doubt… and how they are fighting their inner demons about their own appeal, their own value of what they can offer to the other person.

I wonder how many relationships flounder not because of lack of interest, but rather lack of confidence? How many people don’t initiate intimacy for fear of rejection? It happens in books all the time. Is that indicative of what really happens, or is it more likely that the attraction is one-way? Is it more if an external imbalance of interest in one another or more internal conflict holding back advances?

How often do people succumb to their inner demons and not move forward? Not just in relationships, in their studies, in their jobs, in sports, and even in hobbies?

“I’m not good enough for that team, why even try out?” (Or worse yet, “Why practice more, it won’t make a difference.”

“They won’t want to hire me.”

“They don’t see my value, I’ll get rejected if I ask for a raise.”

“My photos aren’t good enough to submit in the contest.”

How often do our inner demons prevent us from trying?

Tiny little boxes

The unexamined life may not be worth living, but the over examined life isn’t worth living either. 

Isn’t it interesting how two people can look at the same experience and see it completely differently? How is it that 2 prisoners of war with similar experiences can come out of the ordeal and one has PTSD while the other emerges strong and resilient?

I think some people let past experiences spill into their everyday life, while others compartmentalize their past into tiny little boxes. Some people tie their identity to things that make them feel like they are not in control, that things happen to them, that they must continue to endure what has already happened. The past is as in front of them as it is behind them.

Other people see past events in a metaphorical rear view window… there when you are looking at it, but the memories in the reflection seem distant. And the mirror is somewhere in your peripheral vision when you aren’t looking, and easy to forget to pay attention to, unless there is a reason to look back.

A loss of someone you love can haunt you, or it can provoke feelings of love and fond memories. A loss of limb can leave one person devastated with respect to what they can no longer do, and another person is left thankful for what they still can do. Both of these are painful things to endure. But the frame around the experiences can be very different. Two people and one experience. One frames the experiences into tiny little boxes, the other lets the past experience spill into new experiences.

Do we get to decide? Or are we wired a certain way? Maybe a bit of both.

Does our upbringing influence our ability to cope? Certainly! Trauma transcends generations, and growing up in a psychologically unhealthy environment will impact one’s ability to cope. Tiny boxes aren’t built in stressful environments, and it’s hard to ignore the rear view mirror when you are constantly reminded that objects there are much closer than they appear.

But there is always an opportunity to wrap things up in tiny little boxes… still there, still available, just not spilled out into the present when the memories don’t enrich the current moment. Because when we spend too much time looking in the rear view mirror, it’s hard to see the road ahead.

Going through the motions

I’m trying to commit to stretching more as part of my morning routine. I know this will help me feel better in the long term but I’ve never enjoyed the process. I now have a 10 minute routine that I regularly do, but many days I go through the motions without really pushing myself.

This is something that also sometimes happens with my workouts. I go through the motions but I’m not really working hard. For example, I do a set of pushups and I stop when I can do more. I reach a nice even number, like 20 or 30 on a set and while I could probably do a few more physically, I mentally hit a wall. Or I choose a speed on my bike or treadmill that’s less challenging than I’m capable of.

There is a balance that’s hard to find. Yes, I’m proud of the commitment I’m putting in, but I am beating myself up about the effort. I know that greater effort with less commitment would not be as effective, but doing both is hard. Even now, I procrastinated too much this morning and I’m writing this while on my stationary bike. My speed is respectable, but I’m not breathing too hard. I’m going through the motions.

It’s not realistic to be pushing myself to the maximum every workout, and that’s not what I’m trying to do. I just think I get into slumps where I don’t remember how to really push myself. It’s in these slumps that I tend to be too hard on myself. I think part of it is that I’m externally motivated, and I no longer have a team or event I’m training for, and I mostly work out alone. So, sometimes I need to accept that just doing it is enough, even if the effort isn’t really there.

Do you choose?

Do you decide to respond to that red alert notification on your phone, or does the red dot make you look?

Do you want to scroll down your social media feed, or do you need to scroll down your feed?

Is that daily streak on your game something you enjoy keeping, or are you compelled by the streak to keep going?

Are you making these decisions, or are you giving up control and reacting without any real decision being made?

Do you really choose?