Lynne S. Gots, Ph.D.
Licensed Psychologist
Lessons from a Dog: Accepting What You Can’t Change
By Lynne Gots, posted on December 4th, 2012.
levitra hollywoodtrans.com My Australian Shepherd Freddie has much to commend him. He’s loyal and loving to his family. He doesn’t chew up underwear, move pillows from room to room, or snatch sandwiches from the kitchen counter like my Golden Retriever Calvin used to do. He’ll turn on a dime and come when he’s called, even off-leash. He walks jauntily by my side without pulling. And he’s incredibly smart—bilingual, in fact. The repertoire of commands he understands both verbally and by hand signals alone includes not only the useful basics (sit, stay, heel, come, leave it, down) but also many tricks I’ve taught him to keep us both busy. He can spin (clockwise), twirl (counterclockwise), sashay sideways, shake, salute, wave, march in step with me, backup, roll over, play dead, speak, play peek-a-boo, balance a treat on his nose and catch it, grasp an umbrella between his paws, weave through my legs, jump over and crawl under a bar, fetch a toy from another room by name, and take a bow.
But Freddie’s intelligence (along with an acute hypervigilence, endemic to herding breeds like his, to every sound and sudden movement) also makes him hard to live with at times. He barks. At everything. Incessantly.
Most annoying is his reaction to the TV. It’s impossible to watch a show when he’s in the room because he runs up to the screen and, in his most menacing big dog voice, tries to scare off the intruders. He gets really worked up when he sees fighting or hears raised voices. And since my husband and I favor shows like Breaking Bad, Dexter, and Homeland, with plenty of violence and bad guys, Freddie is always on his guard.
You’d think I’d be able to train him to lie at our feet for the duration of an episode. Believe me, I’ve tried. I tell him to “chill” (which he’s been taught means “stretch out and rest your head on your paws”) and toss him treats for being quiet. It works, for a while. But as soon as the plot heats up, so does Freddie.
The problem has gotten much worse since our Black Friday purchase of a 55” TV. It’s twice as big with a far sharper picture than our previous model. If the escalation of his barking is any indication, Freddie feels even more threatened by the outsized images on the new screen.
I wish he would curl up and sleep peacefully next to me on the couch like our other dog Baxter. Wouldn’t it nice to be able to kick back and relax with two warm, furry, quiet canines at my side? But since exciteablility is part of Freddie’s temperament, I doubt I’ll ever be completely successful in training him not to bark at the TV. So I’m coming to terms with not having the dog of my fantasies and learning to live with the real one in my house.
When you’re stuck dealing with a situation or person you’re not entirely happy with, the best option is to find a way to accept it. Jon Kabat-Zinn describes this as “the challenge of mindfulness.” Rather than trying to force your experience (or a difficult spouse, coworker, or pet) to be different, “be present for your experience as it is.”
I can’t quite muster the equanimity to tolerate Freddie’s barking throughout a TV show. It’s just too hard to hear the dialogue over the noise. So I’ve come up with a way to accept him and also enjoy my TV viewing.
I put him in his crate with a bone to occupy him. It works for both of us.
Tags: acceptance, dog training, mindfulness
Posted in Acceptance and Mindfulness, Dogs |
Shift from Autopilot into Mindfulness with a Change of Perspective
By Lynne Gots, posted on November 5th, 2012.
Last week my office was in complete disarray. Stacks of books stood precariously in the middle of the room; walls, stripped of artwork, revealed rusty nails and gaping holes; contents of drawers—five-years’ worth of flotsam and jetsam—spilled off the desk onto the floor. It looked like a hurricane had blown through.
In fact, a hurricane was making its presence known outside the building. But the mess inside had nothing to do with the storm.
My office was undergoing a renovation blitz, carefully orchestrated to occur over the span of a weekend so as not to disrupt business. In the space of three days, old furniture was cleared out, new furniture moved in, and a fresh coat of paint applied. Hurricane Sandy threatened to disrupt the schedule. But we got lucky in DC, feeling only minor effects from the gusting winds and heavy rains. So the redesign project went without a hitch.
After the meteorlogical hurricane, I returned to work in a completely different space: new chairs, new sofa, new bookcases, new tables and lamps, new floorplan, new paint color. Only the old desk remained.
Each person I saw had a reaction. There were the expected, “It looks great!” and “I like the color!” But other comments made me realize how oblivious we often can be to our surroundings.
“Did you get a new couch?” (Yes, and also new chairs, tables, and bookcases.)
“Is this couch bigger than the old one?” (Almost twice as large as the former love seat.)
“I love the new desk!” (Referring to the only piece of furniture I didn’t replace.)
And my personal favorite: “What happened to your windows?” (Formerly windowless, my office, sadly, still remains so.)
Aside from the obvious (or, for some, not so obvious) changes in the decor, people saw the office in a new light because the seating arrangement was different. It’s amazing how off-balance such a shift in perspective can make us feel.
Try it yourself at home, and you’ll see what I mean. You don’t need to redecorate. Just sit in a different chair from the one you habitually occupy at the dinner table. Or watch TV from the armchair instead of the sofa. Changing your point of view can jolt you out of the “autopilot” state of mind we so often inhabit. It’s a simple, but powerful, lesson in mindfulness.
Tags: autopilot, mindfulness
Posted in Acceptance and Mindfulness |
What is Mindfulness?
By Lynne Gots, posted on October 26th, 2012.
Does the word “mindfulness” conjure up an image of a barefoot yogi sitting cross-legged on a mat, palms open to the sky and eyes closed in blissful contemplation? Or do you think it smacks of New Age healing, along with crystals and vortices? You’re not alone.
Although mindfulness practices have their roots in Buddhism, their secular applications have been gaining considerable empirical credibility in recent years. Research has shown practicing mindfulness can reduce stress; help in coping with chronic pain and illness; bolster the immune system; promote willpower and self-control; prevent relapse in depression; improve tolerance for anxiety and other negative moods; and even change the brain structures involved in learning, memory, and attention.
So, what is mindfulness?
“Mindfulness is paying attention on purpose in the present moment and non-judgmentally.”—Jon Kabat-Zinn
Mindfulness is both a practice and a state of mind. Most of us move through our days at a hectic pace, rushing from one task to another or trying to accomplish too many things at once, often without noticing what we’re doing. Life can seem like nothing more than a never-ending To Do list when we’re going through the motions of our daily existence on autopilot.
By practicing mindfulness, we can learn to shift mental gears out of autopilot and into a state of conscious, intentional awareness of whatever we’re experiencing in the moment. This state of mind is called “being mode.” Its antithesis is called “doing mode.”
I’d like to clear up a few misconceptions about mindfulness.
•Mindfulness isn’t a relaxation method, although practicing mindfulness may be relaxing.
•Mindfulness isn’t emptying your mind of thoughts.
•Mindfulness isn’t just a form of meditation, although meditation is one form of mindfulness practice.
•Mindfulness isn’t a mystical experience. You can be mindful and feel transcendent. But you can also be mindful and feel sad, bored, or frustrated. The most mundane, ordinary activities can present opportunities to practice mindfulness.
•Mindfulness isn’t a technique, although regularly practicing a variety of techniques for cultivating awareness can help you enter a state of mindfulness.
•Mindfulness doesn’t relieve you of suffering or make you happy, But it can help you become aware of thought patterns and reactions that contribute to distress.
If you decide to try practicing mindfulness, let go of your expectations and approach it with curiosity. Just try it for awhile, and see what it’s like. Open yourself up to the experience, however it may feel to you. That’s mindfulness.
Tags: meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness-based cognitive therapy
Posted in Acceptance and Mindfulness |
