Second Darts

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” —Viktor Frankl

I’m currently reading Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. Frankl survived life in a concentration camp during World War II and in the book, he describes the psychological impacts of life in the camp. It’s considered a “quick read” based on the number of words and pages, but I’ve been reading it for months on end because the words on those pages are difficult to read. The message of the book, however, is uplifting— Frankl emphasizes the everlasting power of a human being to choose how he/she will respond to something, even under the harshest of circumstances. Amidst the horrid deprivation of everything a human being needs to healthfully thrive, the one thing the Nazis couldn’t take away from the prisoners was this choice.

While we are here on this Earth, life happens to us. Pain, both physical and emotional, is an inevitable part of this process. Suffering, however, is something you can choose. Something painful happens and hits you like a sharp dart. Someone ends a relationship with you. It hurts and you’re sad. You lock yourself in for one night with The Notebook and a pint of “Half-baked.” Totally fine, but, the next morning you start spinning with thoughts of self-doubt, catastrophizing the future. These thoughts are second darts. Your kid gets bowled over by someone on a swing on the playground. Ouch. But while you’re wiping your baby’s tears away, you’re beating yourself up for being a terrible parent. You’re shooting yourself with a second dart. Stop it.

Holding grudges, dwelling on the past, feeling guilty after you fixed a mistake, having a big reaction to a small problem, worrying about something you have no control over…these are all examples of second darts. You get hit by life, and then you hit yourself while you’re down. Would you do this to someone else? You wouldn’t—you would say helpful things to heal them from the wounds of the first dart. So, why would we do it to ourselves? Second darts are completely unnecessary. They make a tough situation much worse. The funny thing is, we have the power to prevent second darts and yet there are way more second darts being thrown in this world than first darts.

So, what can we do to fix this? Don’t be a dart thrower. I know, it's easier said than done. Take a few breaths before responding or reacting to incoming pain. Let the brain’s emotional limbic system chill out a bit, giving the logical prefrontal cortex time to gear up. When you stub your toe, there’s always a split second between the stubbing and the onset of the pain (the time it takes for the brain to register the pain when you think “Oh Sh******t, this is gonna kill). Mentally create this time for emotional pain.

Next, use your relationships to lift you up. Being with and talking with someone else can shift your perspective and widen the lens through which you are viewing the hurt from the first dart. Get some help with healing those initial wounds. This is an empowering experience for you and the friend. Tell them you need support—they will be happy to help you from hurting yourself with the second dart.

Shift your perspective, literally. Get outside. Look at things from far away. Reminding yourself that there is a world beyond your scope is enlightening. Seriously, physically move and change your vantage point. Look at something else--birds flying through the sky, waves breaking shore, green grass, a city scape, your neighbor’s house instead of your own. Wayne Dyer says, “when we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change.”

Finally, accept that pain is going to happen. Don’t judge what kind of pain it is, just acknowledge its presence. There it is. This is pain, which is part of life. It has come and gone before and it’s coming and is going to go again. Do what you can to fix it and carry on. Throw your darts away—not at yourself or anyone else. Viktor Frankl had every possible first dart thrown at him. He was deprived of even the most basic human needs, yet he managed to prevent unnecessary suffering by second darting himself.

I want to invite you to practice this stuff with me. Throwing second darts is by far my biggest personal challenge and it always has been. I worry…about things past and coming. I have since I was little. But, getting anxious about being anxious is throwing a second dart.

As Buddha said, “pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.”

**For more information on “second darts,” you can refer to the book Buddha’s Brain by Rick Hanson. The book explores neuroscience in the context of Buddha’s teachings. It uses spirituality to explain how the brain works.**

Feeling Settled

In 2005, I graduated from college. It was an exciting time and a fine accomplishment. The world was my oyster. Oh the places I would go! In reality, I came home and sat there with my liberal arts degree, unprepared for life. Unsettled.

The word “unsettled” makes me feel unsettled. Life in your twenties is unsettled. For the first time, you are responsible for creating the structure of your days, months, years. There’s no path laid out for you. You must create the path. There’s no one guiding you. You’ve got to take the helm in a small boat in a big sea. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.

There are so many questions when you come face to face with the real world. You’ll get a job, but will you ever have a career? You want to get married and “settle down” (ha!), but who will that person be and how will you find them? Where will you end up living? Will you be happy? You can envision how you want your life to look, but how do you get there?

Gradually, throughout my twenties, I began finding answers to my questions. I figured out who my life partner was. I realized what I wanted my career to be and pursued the education I needed. A picture of the future was beginning to form and I remember telling myself so many times as I struggled to bring it into focus, “You’ll feel totally settled when you’re in your thirties. The picture will become crystal clear then.”

I’m almost 33 now. I’ve been married for eight years. We bought a house in the ‘burbs. I am a therapist and a full-time mom. I’m confident that my husband and I have the skills, experience, and strength in our relationship to solve problems and handle situations that could arise. But do I feel settled? Not at all.

We want to add another member to our family. My husband just started a challenging new job. My daughter is developing so quickly that once I think I’ve figured her out, she becomes a new version of herself. My professional life is somewhat on hold and we are thinking about living somewhere else for a while. The moving pieces are increasing exponentially as we’ve added more things, ideas, and people to our mix. If anything, I feel less settled than ever.

I’ve recently come to a conclusion about the whole “feeling settled” thing. Feeling settled is never going to happen. It’s never going to happen because it’s not supposed to happen. Seriously, even when you’re still, you’re moving because the Earth is orbiting the sun at a speed of 18.5 miles per second! PER SECOND. Things are in constant motion. The one consistent thing about life is that it’s inconsistent. It’s like whack-a-mole. Once you settle one thing, another pops up. And who knows which one will pop up next?

My goal for this decade is to become a little more open to not feeling settled. To not expect that I’ll have it all figured out when I hit forty. What are we trying to figure out anyway? There’s no test at the end of life and you don’t have to write a manual for the next guy either. I’d like to focus more on the exhilarating part of not knowing what life will bring and less on the terrifying part. To embrace the possibility and good that can come with change. Life is dynamic and if it weren’t, things would get stale pretty fast. So I’ll sit and meditate on that… and still be moving at 18.5 miles per second.

Play Is the New Orange Is the New Black

I often wish I could be in my daughter’s mind for a little while just to see what the heck is going on in there. What does it feel like to make sense of the world with a toddler brain? Watching kids at play can provide a window into their little worlds. 

A lot of things are happening during play. Kids express feelings through play that they can’t express using language or words yet. Play offers a chance to learn how the body works and to practice social interactions and decision making (hmm…to put the plastic piece of pizza in the dollhouse bathroom or the dog food bowl?). Play is a way to process small and big life events. Play encourages emotion regulation (for example, staying calm in the midst of frustration) and the integration of all that’s coming in through the five senses. That little mind is working even when that little tongue licks the wheel of the dump truck that’s been driven around the waiting room! It all seems so simple (and sometimes gross) to us, but there really is so much going on. 

Play evolves quickly. All of a sudden after what felt like, and probably was, months of just moving things around, your child starts bringing his/her imagination to the toys. My daughter is putting her necklace inside her birdhouse, which she’s been doing for months. But this time the birds are saying, “Come on in, necklace!” The birds are accepting the necklace into their family. She’s making her own sense out of things that don’t make sense to her yet and it’s the most delightful thing to watch. 

Giving your child space to play, or “be,” on his/her own is critical. This is a skill that will be helpful later in life; you’ve got to learn how to be by yourself, entertain yourself, trust yourself, etc. So, I hereby give you permission to sit back with your coffee (wine!?) and watch your child play. But really, watch them--no checking your email or playing candy crush.  

Solo play is a key part of development, but parents can also use play as a tool. A trip to the doctor’s office or hospital is unsettling for a little one. Maybe after a checkup (and a tissue and a few deep breaths yourself), you break out a doctor kit and a doll or stuffed animal. It’s an opportunity to “play out” what they experienced and how it made them feel. Give them a space in which to process this. Maybe it will be less scary next time. 

Play can also be used to prepare a child for a change or new situation. Flying for the first time? Play it out with a toy plane and some figurines. Thinking about starting the potty training thing? Have Elmo or Doc McStuffins do a poop on the potty first. Model it. Reward Elmo with some M&Ms after. Talk through the steps. Like Mr. Rogers once said, “play is a chance for kids to practice what they are learning.” I’ve seen a quote before about there being no dress rehearsal for life, but this only applies to adults. We adults have had all our dress rehearsals! For kids, play, as long as it’s not dangerous, really is a dress rehearsal for life and that’s how they use it and need it. When in doubt, play it out! And watch. Watch them play!