anxiety

April 3, 2025

Spinning Beyond Our Fear

 

Reverend William Sloane Coffin could put a spin you hadn’t thought of on an idea you believed you knew all about. Imagine him playing with a top, the well-known child’s toy, and flipping it so that it moved in a fashion that defied gravity. He took on grave matters that terrify us, turned them around, and offered hope.

Jaw-dropping and sometimes joy-enhancing.

Here is his definition of patriotism, split into three:

There are three kinds of patriots, two bad, one good. The bad are the uncritical lovers and the loveless critics. Good patriots carry on a lover’s quarrel with their country, a reflection of God’s lover’s quarrel with all the world.

Savoring this will expand its meanings. In Coffin’s words about being good citizens, he speaks of the human tendency toward thoughtless admiration on one side and finding too much fault on the other. Love of country and the lover’s tenacious effort to establish “a more perfect union” were closer to what he believed was “good patriotism.”

Coffin was a fearless advocate and activist in the latter effort, “putting his money where his mouth was.”

As Winston Churchill said to rally the British people in World War II:

“This is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.” —Harrow School, 29 October 1941.

Here is a successor to those great men, a woman, who has picked up their baton and run with it. If you don’t know who she is, you soon will. She offers a way forward and speaks not least for those who are afraid. The lady in question, Mallory McMorrow, is fearless:

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The top image is called Gyroscope Precision. It is Lucas Vieira’s work, sourced from Wikimedia Commons.

March 30, 2025

Sharing Our Secret Self

Does anyone know you in full? Do you know yourself?

Remember the first time you heard your recorded voice? You might have been startled, surprised at its strangeness. Your parents, siblings, and acquaintances listened to your genuine sound before you did.

The example underlines why peers, partners, and buddies have knowledge of us that we lack. They judge our intellect, appearance, and temperament as they peer from the outside.

There are evolutionary reasons for holding on to our sense of ourselves without the discomfort of another’s negative appraisal. It is best to have a consistent and favorable view of yourself and not experience the “slings and arrows” of every new, negative opinion. Nonetheless, the attitudes of some others can be troublesome.

Your friends hold secret judgments of you as you do of them. Perhaps they tell you about a few, but not all, though they cannot mind-read and uncover all the thoughts and feelings therein. An acceptable social life requires hiding aspects of ourselves and keeping a distance from the unshared private thoughts of those we contact.

Do you recall the magic mirror in Snow White? The evil but beautiful Queen couldn’t tolerate the truth when the mirror revealed Snow White as the fairest in all the land. 

The 1945 movie, The Picture of Dorian Gray, portrays an uncommonly handsome, seemingly ageless man who travels from innocence to his dark side. When he discovers that a portrait of him is beginning to display his corruption, he removes the painting rather than change his behavior.

A speedy way to end a friendship is to inform someone of something they do not wish to realize about themselves, or at least, your opinion. A few who can accept the pain of such knowledge can gain helpful awareness, but the informer should choose with care.

Memory plays tricks on both sides of a relationship. People attend to what they consider the most significant qualities in the other, as the other does about them.

An immediate evaluation of the various characteristics of the person happens quickly and is revised with time. Friends can forget much of who we are, including some of the traumas we suffered. Most individuals are far more preoccupied with themselves than with all but those closest to them.

During years of oral history interviews of Chicago Symphony musicians, I spoke with a principal player whose abilities were declining. I also talked to some of his colleagues, who knew he diminished the orchestra despite his long-standing but fading glory. 

The virtuoso’s opinion of himself remained elevated. On the other hand, his colleagues’ ears told them what the newspaper music critics who reviewed the CSO were reporting to their readers before the ink touched the page.

To perform as a soloist, with or without the backing of a superb orchestra, requires extraordinary talent and self-confidence. Worry too much about the decline in your technique, and you cannot do the job. Thus, the man in question did not recognize the change in himself as he aged, though his high estimate of his talents and considerable confidence had been essential to his successful career.

Human beings alter over time. Which version of ourselves do we remember? Part of any life involves recognizing who we are now, not who we were, whether aging has left a mark, what we used to be able to do, etc. Such recognition of a loss of stature can be too much to bear. 

Not surprisingly, we often forget or minimize losses and injuries over time. Memories decay, and painful emotions can depart. This is a part of healing, too.

The unconscious takes a role in managing our lives. Repression assumes the job of defending against beliefs and memories that would produce anxiety in the conscious mind. 

Dissociation involves splitting off parts of our experience that might reduce the ability to function. 

Humankind is also well-practiced at rationalizing its behavior, no matter the thoughts of acquaintances. 

Many observers wonder how some individuals manage their imagined guilty conscience and sleep at night. Between suppressing thoughts about behavior, dissociation, repression, denial, and blocking out history, humanity seems to live with itself, at least on occasion, as if it carried a built-in automatic eraser of much of its conscience. Without being shadowed by one’s guilt, bedtime is untroubled.

Many believe they would behave admirably in situations they have never experienced, making themselves wise men or heroes without ever earning the distinction. This, too, contributes to a positive view of who you are and would be, if pressed.

To our relief, the wicked Queen’s mirror is nowhere to be found. If we are brave, we can study the washroom’s mounted silvered glass and decide who we are. Ultimately, the most intriguing hidden secret self might not be the one we conceal from others. Instead, it might be the one we hide from ourselves.

Is anyone completely exempt from this self-created form of magic?  

How would one know?

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The second image shows Hurd Hatfield, the lead actor in The Picture of Dorian Gray, in front of the painting, reflecting his immoral condition. The third image is Picasso’s Girl in Chair, 1952. Next comes Giorgio de Chirico’s Two Heads. The final work is Salvador Dali’s Gala Contemplating the Mediterranean Sea Which at Twenty Meters Becomes the Portrait of Abraham Lincoln — Homage to Rothko (first version). 1974-1975.

February 23, 2025

Creating Hope

When you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on! — Theodore Roosevelt

Hope is “a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen,”* but it is more than something inborn or simply present in the world’s optimists.

It can be manufactured, and sometimes it must be. We can reframe the world and recognize that “a crisis is (often) an opportunity riding a dangerous wind.” Indeed, many seemingly scary things offer a chance to learn, give your life meaning, and grow from the hard stuff you choose to take on. Despite the worried beginning, one can be pleased, proud, and transformed at the end.

I often reminded tremulous clients of their once-difficult accomplishments. Asking them to list the skills, will, or bravery that enabled them to overcome challenges created a sense of possibility.

Those capacities or personal strengths remained inside them, as they remain for you and me today.

Once heartened by this knowledge, pushing forward becomes possible. “Ninety percent of life is showing up,” a saying sometimes erroneously attributed to Woody Allen.

This means you must attempt what you think is too much for you, too frightening, too likely to fail.

As Eleanor Roosevelt said, “You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”

It might be trying a new hairdo, asking the one you desire for a date, facing a bully, or trying a new game like tennis or chess.

Reframing can involve overcoming the tendency to discount one’s worth and, therefore, take on an inconvenience or a challenge. Nearly 90 million eligible voters didn’t show up for the last election. Might they have made a difference?

The fresh perspective on life in 2025 also offers something many of us have taken for granted. Beginning with the post-World War II baby boom in the 1940s, some of us belong to the luckiest generation in history.

There has been no war on our soil, and diseases such as polio and measles have been defeated. Lifesaving treatments for heart disease and cancer were discovered. The water is cleaner, and the medicine is safer. Advanced education was (in the second half of the 20th century) affordable for many, and astonishing conveniences like air-conditioning and central heating made life easier.

But there is more.

The “greatest generation” of men and women who participated in World War II are almost all gone. They knew what the price of freedom was, and many of them died for it.

Our fathers and grandfathers knew. Our volunteer army knows. For the rest of us, however, the knowledge is limited to reading books and watching movies.

We did not live it, and we have not earned it.

According to therapists, one of the biggest concerns of their patients is the loss of that freedom and the chaos of the present day.

The Stoic philosophers of antiquity considered such circumstances a trial we have never faced.

I judge you unfortunate because you have never lived through misfortune. You have passed through life without an opponent—no one can ever know what you are capable of, not even you.

—SENECA, ON PROVIDENCE, 4.3

Much of the world faces this test within its national boundaries and some from outside. We are only beginning to understand what it means to act on behalf of our freedom. The luxury and certainty of having it has disappeared.

Most of us know the difference between receiving and earning a gift. We are discovering that our veterans, founders like Washington, Madison, and Jefferson, and leaders such as Lincoln and FDR sent us gifts from afar by creating and maintaining our nation as a democratic republic.

There is hope in the belief that we can maintain that and pass it on to succeeding generations.

I hope that one day, “when you are old and grey and full of sleep,”** you will hear a knock on the door. It will be a child of early school age who lives nearby. You know his mother. He says hello and then asks if you can come to his school one day when his class is doing “Show and Tell.”

Oh, of course. But what I’m supposed to do?

The teacher says we should bring someone or something and talk about it. I want to talk about you.

Why me?

Because my mom said you helped save the democracy.

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The three paintings are sourced from Wikiart.org/ The first and second, Hope I and Hope II, are the works of Gustav Klimt. The last is Good Hope Road by Arshile Gorky.

*Oxford Languages.

**The opening words of William Butler Yeats’s “When You Are Old.”

February 9, 2025

The Double-decker Sandwich Generation

There is a name for an essential group of predominantly female Americans who provide for one or more children under 18 and at least one parent over 65. They are the Sandwich Generation—caught in the middle.

Recent events have added more bread to our national sandwich and put more pressure on all of us—with or without offspring to raise and elders to assist.

Think of our nation as a parent. Our guardian cared for and raised us in relative prosperity when the distance between poor and rich wasn’t as huge.

Our protector didn’t fear an armed student at the local school carrying out a heartbreaking attack. The TV news was real, not imagined and terrifying.

Rage over politics and lifestyles rarely happened in our neighborhood and was infrequent among relatives. Holidays didn’t produce arguments about our elected officials.

The nation’s federal government caretakers are turning upside down and inside out. Something distressing is happening. It is as if our elderly mother, less wise than she used to be, divorced Dad and married the Pied Piper, an ever-angry fellow leading us to perdition.

We are grownups now, in shock at this new world. A signal is out to care for the parent who governed us—let’s call her Lady Liberty—a woman we have counted on forever.

Lady Liberty, the wellspring of the freedom we took for granted, now counts on her children’s love, dedication, and effort to bring her around. 

She guaranteed our independence as kids, but now Mom can’t stop an old man who wants the keys to the house, every dollar, and each lever of influence and control.

The gentlewoman’s doctor says she is not well. More than our hopes and prayers are required. He thinks we should write or call all our friends to generate support for her. 

The same outreach is necessary to those who oversee the well-being of the freedom she once safeguarded—senators and members of Congress.

We must put our money where our mouth is to give the Lady all the sustenance and buttressing she needs. The M.D. even thought she would get a boost if we march past her windows with signs indicating why we need her to live.

The challenging sandwich of those who have lived raising kids and caring for our parents grows in size and complexity. 

All of us are now pressed from the outside by the anxiety and sadness attached to the possible loss of our beloved country, fearing her demise.

Nearly 90,000,000 eligible voters did not vote in the 2024 presidential election. Yet, we can arouse them, prevent further damage, and improve the health of all that Lady Liberty represents.

Adlai E. Stevenson II, governor of Illinois and twice candidate for President (1900 – 1965), once reminded his audience of the need to preserve our republic and take necessary action. Voting, yes, but more than that:

Do you remember that in classical times when Cicero had finished speaking, the people said, ‘How well he spoke’ but when Demosthenes had finished speaking, they said, ‘Let us march.’

The time has come.

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The top painting is a 1925 work by Paul Klee, The Mask with the Little Flag. It is sourced from Wikiart.org/

January 26, 2025

On the Bravery of Women

You could say that this is a difficult time for women, or you might say it has always been a difficult time. But let’s just say that women have had to be courageous forever. 

Antigone, a 3000-year-old play by Sophocles, is perhaps our oldest example of a woman speaking truth to power. The protagonist defends the right to bury her deceased brother, a young man considered a traitor to Thebes by Creon, who is both her uncle and king.

Antigone believes it is her responsibility to her brother to perform the holy rites attached to his burial — an ancient religious act. Creon, however, decrees that this man should be prey for animals as he lies above ground where he was felled in battle.

When Antigone defies the king, she is put to death, as she knew she would by doing so.

There is more to a woman’s courage than this, however. Bearing children has always been associated with pain and the possibility of death. Raising those same little ones includes their defense, sometimes to the point of giving your own life to safeguard theirs.

Mating requires attachment to a man, historically stronger and capable of harming the female and her children. Rape remains a danger, a peril on every occasion women leave the home.

But there is more. Victims may endure verbal brutality in the questions they are asked when reporting the crime. Cross-examination in a court is not less harsh. Some defense attorneys claim the female provoked the attack.

Nor has the fair sex long been permitted the choice of a husband. Instead, the future wife had to accept the custom and control of parental matchmaking. The practice still exists.

A number of religions continue to characterize women as “less than” men — to the males they marry, in particular. They are told what to do, what is ladylike or brazen, and when to be silent.

Always by gents.

And yet, the partner must defend her husband without outshining him.

A tightrope walk.

Women are now firefighters and serve in wartime. They play hard in games that used to be the property of men. Rosey the Riveter might be a WWII fictional icon, but if brought to life, she would work in every available job today, even though wage discrimination exists. 

The dangers of factories and slaughterhouses do not block the necessity of making a punishing living any more than the agricultural industry.

All the while, members of the fair sex are still called foul words related to their sexuality and their appearance. They are derided by the likes of Meta’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg, who recently claimed the USA is short on “masculine energy.”

Ladies have taken on “men’s jobs” and taken on males. Think of Greta Thunberg, a 22-year-old climate activist who began her crusade to save the planet and the human race at age 15.

Data from the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH) indicate that in 2022, adult females were more likely than men to be diagnosed as mentally ill. In addition, women were more likely to be characterized as suffering from serious mental illness.

Many reasons have been offered for these gender disparities, including a greater willingness among women to open themselves to treatment via drugs or psychotherapy. Some would say more significant challenges exist for women than for men in the course of life. Nonetheless, it is well known that life expectancy is longer for the females of the species.

Argentine history offers a striking illustration of female bravery by the mothers and Grandmothers of the Plaza del Mayo. Wikipedia tells us this:

Women had organized to gather, holding a vigil, while also trying to learn what had happened to their adult children during the 1970s and 1980s. They began to gather for this every Thursday, from 1977 at Plaza de Mayo in Buenos Aires in front of the Casa Rosada presidential palace, in public defiance of the government’s law against mass assemblies.[1] 

Wearing white headscarves to symbolize the diapers (nappies) of their lost children, embroidered with the names and dates of birth of their offspring, now young adults, the mothers marched in twos in solidarity to protest the denials of their children’s existence or their mistreatment by the military regime.[1] Despite personal risks, they wanted to hold the government accountable for the human rights violations which were committed in the Dirty War.[2]

The Right Reverend Mariann Edgar Budde is the latest model of uncommon dauntlessness. The cleric speaks with quiet strength in delivering her pleas for the unfortunate in her church and elsewhere in this country. Three thousand years after Sophocles, she inherits Antigone’s example of speaking truth to power.

Budde echoed the Hebrew Bible when she spoke to the new President at the National Cathedral in Washington:

“Thou shalt neither vex a stranger, nor oppress him: for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Exodus 22:21
 
Thus, in her words:
 
I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away, and that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands, to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we all were once strangers in this land.

Mariann Budde’s sermon, which was part of the recent Inauguration ceremonies, has gone viral and is on YouTube. Rather than offer it here, you will find an older speech by the Bishop above, describing how she found courage in a difficult moment in 2020.

This woman says that she still experiences anxiety every time she preaches. She further states that “we are all called to be brave.” Indeed, she wrote a book about it in 2023: How We Learn to be Brave.

Very few of us are without fear. To be brave we overcome it. May you be brave. Perhaps you already are.

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The top photo is a Woman Operating a Turret Lathe by Howard R. Hollem in 1942, courtesy of the Library of Congress. It is followed by a picture of a Woman Firefighter taken by Spapa003. Norman Rockwell’s 1942 Saturday Evening Post cover of Rosie the Riveter comes next. The first and last of these are sourced from Wikipedia.org. The second comes from Wikimedia Commons.

September 1, 2024

Her First Therapy Session

This is a mistake. My stomach is doing flip-flops. They’ll charge me a fortune if I vomit up the waiting room, and I’ll bet the lady sitting across from me will post a video of it.

I want out, but what good would that do?

Nothing will improve unless I do something — that’s what I’ve told myself. Man up, for God’s sake!

I’ll stay.

The psychologist is a stranger. He’s going to ask questions. What should I say? It’ll be too embarrassing. The things I’ve never said—for sure, he’ll want to hear. 

He’s a shrink. Does that mean my head will get smaller, like in Beetlejuice? He’s about to psychoanalyze me, but what can he tell me I haven’t told myself?

Sheila, my bestie, says he’s terrific — tender and brilliant. But I’m not Sheila. Sheila doesn’t know all the stuff inside my inside. I don’t even understand all my stuff. 

Try not to think about it.

The forms, of course. I finish and hand them over.

Here comes Dr. K.

Hmm. He has nice eyes and a sturdiness about him. Sheila called him a mensch, a person of dignity and integrity—someone you can count on.

Hmm. From the outside, he looks sure of himself—a quiet confidence. I like the way he carries himself.

I wonder if he can carry me?

Should I trust him?

My psychologist smiles. The doctor is older than I thought, which is good because it might mean he learned something along the way. Or maybe he is clueless about what someone my age is going through. 

And he is a man. Can any male understand a woman? Didn’t a famous person ask, “What do women want?” Oh, yeah: Freud.

What DO I want?

The time passes, and I’m talking about why I am here. He’s taking notes with a pen! Handwriting notes, how about that? No computer. The last man in America without a computer!

Silence.

Dr. K. leaves a lot of space between his questions.

Silence.

Only the clock ticking, me breathing, and my therapist. What’s he thinking? Or maybe he wants to give me space.

More silence.

Oh, I never said that before! Why did I say that? Geez! I’m naked. No, maybe just my bra and panties are on. Can he see through me? Geez. 

I think he gets me. He’s backing off. My heart is slowing down. Good. He is gentle. I don’t think he wants to push me. I’m under control. He says I don’t have to answer every question.

A joke! The shrink made a joke! And a funny one! Who would have thought I’d be laughing in counseling? When was the last time I laughed?

He listens. 

He listens and looks at me. 

Maybe he doesn’t want to take me too far, too fast. The man is careful and tender. Who else do I have in my life like that? Do I know anybody like him? 

Have I ever met anyone like him? Any man?

The time is over. It went fast.

We shake hands. “You don’t have to come back, you know. Take it easy. It’s your choice. This is for you to decide.”

Wow! I really am in charge. Whoever lets me be in charge?

I go to the lady’s room, leave the office, and get into my car. Let me sit here. 

My eyes are moist. Who would have guessed I would have told him what I told him? Who would have thought he would have been so kind?

Dr. K. said the process would be challenging for me. He thinks I have the courage, though.

I’m exhausted but relieved. My stomach is settled. I still have to be careful about trusting too much,  but I should give him a chance.

Was the sun shining before?

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Both beautiful photos were taken by Laura Hedien and presented here with her kind permission: Laura Hedien Official Website.

The first is a Humming Bird, taken in Cuba in 2024.

The second is a Sunset on the Canadian Plains in Saskatchewan in August 2023.

June 30, 2024

The Four Sensitivities

We all have friends who have been called sensitive. Some label themselves this way, wondering why they weep when peers shrug off the hurts. Parents do their offspring no favors when they make comparisons, pointing out the superiority of a sibling’s toughness or her speed at bouncing back. Life waits for the skin to grow thick. With age, delicate souls may harden themselves. It can be a matter of necessity. A second kind of sensitivity involves empathy. The pain originates in the other and is transmitted from her to someone who holds her dear. Though it is absorbed and felt by the empath, it does not disable her. Measuring one’s concern or affliction is a different question, but being empathic does lead to suffering and understanding at a deeper level. Such a person reads the sufferer’s internal state, listens to her, and cares. Anyone who responds with concern takes the role of a witness, carrying another’s wound. Thoughtful parents illustrate this in their identification with their children’s big and small misfortunes. Most people who offer solace bounce back faster than those who sustain the damage directly. Counselors present a special case. They maintain a therapeutic distance from the patient. If they were to duplicate their client’s feelings within themselves, they would (in a sense) become the client, as distraught or debilitated as she is. Any therapist or empathic individual who takes on too much of another’s feelings lacks the separation to soothe their counterpart. All helping professionals are trained to recognize the danger signs of burnout before compromising their ability to aid their clientele. A third level of sensitivity involves emotionality comparable to the person in anguish. Here is an example from my own practice: I received a referral to evaluate a teenager who sobbed when watching TV or listening to radio programs about victims of misfortune. These were strangers, but her heart broke just the same. Tears could not be prevented except by avoiding those media. No evidence of mistreatment, harsh parenting, or abuse was found. The extremity of her response to the world made living close to unbearable.

A fourth type of sensitiveness is similar to the painful reaction in the previous example but does not cause a complete breakdown. The sense of damage done to fellow humans causes her to take action despite her tears. This kind of individual tries to remedy the problem and will put herself at risk to do so. Her first step is to uncover the cause of the emotional or physical harm, which is related to the prevailing conditions within society at large. The life of philosopher, writer, and activist Simone Weil (1909-1943) offers an unparalleled demonstration of this kind of virtue. When Simone, then six years old, heard that French soldiers lacked sugar and chocolate during World War I, she sent her sweets to the front. At age 10, she snuck out of her family’s residence to join striking laborers in a rally. In 1934, this young woman took a leave of absence from the school at which she taught to work in a series of blue-collar positions. These included engagement at the Elektro-Firma Alshom factory as a drill-press operator, followed by employment as a packer and then as a machinist for the car manufacturer Renault. Weil sought these jobs to understand the dangerous and mind-dulling conditions under which her fellow employees labored. Simultaneously dealing with the migraine headaches she experienced during her adult life, the first post brought her to the point of exhaustion. Weil sometimes wept, as she was expected to meet a quota that her limited manual dexterity and nearsightedness made impossible. On occasion, she endured burns because of the closeness between her workstation and a furnace. Simone came to believe she and her peers were the equivalents of slaves:
You kill yourself with nothing at all to show for it … that corresponds to the effort you put out. In that situation, you really feel you are a slave, humiliated to the depths of your being.
Weil wrote, “Machines do not run to enable men to live, but we resign ourselves to feeding men so that they may serve the machines.”

Others asked why she persisted in these efforts:
The suffering all over the world obsesses me and overwhelms me to the point of annihilating me. The only way I can release myself from this obsession is to take on a large share of danger and hardship myself. That alone can save me from being wasted by sterile grief.
Indeed, she did her best to influence those with authority during the worldwide economic Depression, the Spanish Civil War, and the Second World War. Despite her pacifist beliefs, she also took arms against the fascists in the conflict in Spain. Simone Weil never became hardened or indifferent. She was hospitalized with tuberculosis brought on by malnutrition and exhaustion in 1943. Prior to her collapse, she was employed by the French Government in exile based in London. Defying her doctors, the patient refused to eat as much as she needed. This self-sacrificing woman ate no more than her countrymen had access to in wartime France. To the end of her life at age 34, Weil believed, “The love of our neighbor in all its fullness means simply being able to ask him ‘what are you going through?'” Albert Camus, the novelist, and 1957 Nobel Prize-winning writer, called her “the only great spirit of our time.”

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The first image is the Milky Way as photographed by Laura Hedien on October 17, 2023, with her kind permission: Laura Hedien Official Website. Next is the George Frederick Watts painting Love and Life, 1884/85. The final two pictures feature Simone Weil. The first was taken during the Spanish Civil War, while the second shows her as a little girl with her family.
March 29, 2024

Knowing What You Don’t Know: Predicting Your Future

There are lots of intelligent people out there. Some believe they know everything and some think they know everything in their specialty.

A smaller number recognize that we are all missing a lot.

Given that we can only be sure about the world as it is (at best), we are particularly challenged by future uncertainties.

If one wishes to flourish in a rapidly changing world, he or she does well to begin humbly, knowing mistakes will happen, but also considering how best to approach the time ahead. In part, this begins with looking at what we can learn from the past and the patterned signals of what worked for us and what did not.

Learning — forever needing to learn — terrifies some. For others, it is a glorious opportunity. With that in mind, Wynne Leon and Vicki Atkinson just released a podcast in which they interviewed me about The Perils of Prediction.

The discussion is based on an earlier blog post of mine concerning the difficulty of making good predictions.

In the last section of the podcast (the video clip below), I discuss how to prepare for lives and conditions we can’t fully predict.

I invite you to read my earlier post or listen to all or part of my conversation with Wynne and Vicki.

Here’s to creating the best possible future for all of us.

March 27, 2024

Healing “The Anxious Generation”

Changes in our children’s lives do not come with a full-blast announcement. The seeds of a mental health crisis in the young can be traced to the early 2010s: the emergence of the virtual world on phones in the hands of children.

According to Jonathan Haidt, an internationally praised social psychologist, the result has substituted play for “a great rewiring,” with alarming consequences.

He writes:

The result was a new “phone-based childhood,” which altered the developmental pathways of children and adolescents, bringing them minimal benefits while reducing the time spent on beneficial real-world activities such as sleeping, playing with friends, talking with adults, reading books, focusing on one task at a time, or even just daydreaming.

He elaborates on this in his just-issued book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.

Haidt calls special attention to social media’s particular harm to girls. More generally, mental illness has risen dramatically among adolescents. Depression, social withdrawal, anxiety, suicide, and self-harm are among the consequences.

To the good, Haidt is at the forefront of working to remedy many of the unfortunate results he describes. He proposes solutions to reduce the damage and improve our children’s chances of flourishing.

On The Anxious Generation website, Haidt provides extensive information about his findings and the steps to take going forward. Unlike too many volumes that are better at telling you what’s wrong than what to do, this one includes suggestions for collective action, parents and educators, and what government and tech companies can do.

Links to organizations already pursuing reduced phone dependency and more free play are listed.

I hope you will take the opportunity to learn more. This is a mission for parents, grandparents, teachers, and those who wonder how to free children to be the children and future adults we all hope for.

Pass it on.

September 3, 2023

When the Best Action is Inaction

Conventional wisdom tells us to step forward, assert ourselves, and take decisive action. Not so fast. Sometimes, stretching time, holding the moment in place, and waiting is best.

I learned this lesson from a bunch of inner-city kids as their 20-year-old summer camp counselor: when to react and when to do nothing.

Like lots of things in life, the instruction came by accident.

My unintentional tutors were males coming into their teens. All lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and enrolled in the M.I.T. Science Camp during the summer of 1967.

Despite the name, academics had no part in the daily doings. The fledgling young men came from troubled homes and dangerous neighborhoods. Most of them were aged 12 to 15 years, black and white.

Names like Paul and Tom and Eddie and Biff. The last of these was already chain-smoking before he reached 13.

Some were shy; a few were petty criminals, and one or two were learning disabled. We had an angry handful and several who were dazed by the demands of living. Still, the adults hoped the youngsters might benefit from the experience.

Each counselor, all college students, had charge of a handful of the boys. My group of six joined a similar bunch led by another counselor, Geoff Smith. Geoff, a swell fellow, was bright and easy to work with.

Geoff and I took our charges on day trips to Martha’s Vineyard and New York City. We played some baseball and put on a play under the direction of a Boston College undergraduate theater major, Betty Rose. We had just enough bodies to recreate “Twelve Angry Men.” The several weeks made for an enjoyable and productive summer.

One day, Geoff had a dentist appointment, so I led both of our groups: perhaps a total of 10 kids on the morning he was away.

We walked through M.I.T.’s Building Seven when one of the older boys signaled his buddies to run in different directions. The group had come to a four-way intersection, offering multiple flight paths for escape. In a flash, they disappeared. I stood at the crossroads and peered down each hallway.

Nothing.

Not one could be seen.

The boys’ safety was on my mind, but retrieving them all seemed impossible. I didn’t move. At best, any direction might have led to only a few. I did nothing, not because I was brilliant or possessed patience, but because I couldn’t think of a solution.

Perhaps you’ve guessed that I stumbled upon the right course: waiting. Had I started down any of the corridors, I’d probably still be running after them. Since I didn’t take the bait, no “chase” materialized. They got bored.

Within 10 minutes, all returned to the spot where I still stood like a statue, fixed in position since the moment the kids sped away. We proceeded to our appointed destination without comment.

—–

Over 17 years later, my wife and I hoped to purchase a new home. The owner didn’t use a real estate agent, so we drove to his residence to settle on a price. I sat at his kitchen table, and he reminded me of the amount he’d listed in his ad. 

I was silent and expressionless.

I said nothing for several seconds, just looking at him. He spoke again and named a lower price.

I was silent.

More time passed.

He lowered the dollar value once more.

By now, he was offering the house for a number beneath what my wife and I agreed was acceptable before we met with him.

I waited until he stopped undercutting himself and agreed to his diminished offer. We still live in the home we purchased that day.

Sometimes, problems work themselves out if you don’t interfere. When quiet is uncomfortable for someone, he may take action to reduce his discomfort, as did the former owner of my home.

As best I can understand what happened, this fellow believed my lack of response indicated I was unhappy with the price he stated. He assumed my failure to speak demonstrated dissatisfaction with each new proposal. If he had simply stopped reducing the offer, we would have paid more than we did. I was comfortable with waiting; he was not.

—–

Athletes say “slowing the game down” in pressured moments prevents anxiety and adrenalin from taking them over. Otherwise, they lose control and deliver a poor performance out of desperation. One way to reduce the jitters is to take one or two deep breaths, having practiced these earlier in training to combat nervousness.

Public speaking is another common tension-filled situation. Upon reaching the podium, accomplished orators hesitate, typically letting the applause finish and any conversation in the audience end. Among those seated, the most interested in what is to come often shush the talkers, thus creating the atmosphere and expectation the speaker wants. By doing nothing but standing there, he has taken charge.

A symphony conductor does much the same thing. When he turns to face the orchestra, he scans the 100 players, waiting for their eyes to meet his. Not until he achieves their focus will he raise his baton.

If the crowd doesn’t silence itself, he may turn to face them again. The preparation to make everything ready for the first note happens without words. Since the attendees purchased tickets for the performance, the pressure on them grows to permit the concert to start.

Silence, inaction, and eye contact have the power to control. These characteristics suggest the stationary figure is confident in holding his ground. Even in my stint as an uncertain summer camp counselor, every boy deferred to the necessity of returning to the group.

Slow down. Be patient. Try to live with uncertainty. Don’t act impulsively. Master temper and anxiety. Wait, wait, and take a breath. Avoid action for its own sake.

Haste may worsen an already bad situation. Assertiveness is not always the answer. Patience might be better — much better — than misguided energy.

People can be similar to boomerangs. Like the kids I mentioned, with enough time and a bit of luck, they return.

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The top painting is Time Transfixed by Rene Magritte, 1938. Next comes Henry Moore’s Sculpture from 1935. Both are from the Art Institute of Chicago. They are followed by Laura Hedien’s recent photograph of the Milky Way in Arizona with her permission: Laura Hedien Official Website. Finally, Mark Rothko’s Orange and Tan of 1954.