The picture I didn’t take

I like to share pictures on social media. They are often pictures I take from nature or places we go to, but also some of my family and I. Yesterday before bed time, I had a discussion with one of my daughters and I was quite firm with her which, of course, she didn’t like. The situation turned rather unpleasant for all of us especially since we are staying in a little apartment we are borrowing from my sister-in-law. It wasn’t a big argue but I could see our other two kids be uncomfortable.

When I went to bed I thought, that’s holiday together. Some really good moments and some not that good moments. It would be interesting to post a picture of this situation on social media, but what would it bring? Discomfort for many. Why would I share the difficult moments too? It would also be disrespectful towards my daughter. But why is sharing the good moments okay but not the challenging ones?

I also think that I don’t want people to believe I’m looking for sympathy, but again, what would be wrong with that?

We often criticize social media for showing a too glossy picture of people’s lives, and I guess some do use social media to appear as perfect, but that is not the case for me. Maybe I don’t share the challenging moments because it could be misinterpreted. We all know that most of everyday life challenges come and go, and the only thing to do is to get through them. I feel that sharing them would make them appear bigger than they are.

Maybe sharing life’s little and not so little challenges on social media wold normalize them too. When things turn sour, I tend to panic and want to ‘fix the problem’. I regret my part in the conflict, but yesterday, as we all went to bed, I thought, this is not a big deal, and it is good to also get through the discomfort that disagreement brings. Both for me and my kids. Not everything needs to be pleasant, not even during the holidays.

This morning, after my sadhana, I drove to buy fresh fruit and vegetables, and when I came back, our youngest daughter set the table, and we had a lovely breakfast. The discomfort from last night was washed away and maybe we all five were a bit more resilient than yesterday morning.

On the screening power of screens

Last week, I met a boy from fourth grade when I was on my way to get my bike to ride home after work. He sat outside on a bench in the Norwegian Winter weather. I asked why we was sitting there alone, and he replied he was waiting for his dad to pick him up. I asked if he was ok, yes, he said, I have my mobile. He was playing some game on his telephone.

On my ride home, I felt sorry for him, sitting in the cold weather, waiting for his dad, and I remembered how, when I was in primary school, also had sometimes to wait to be picked me up. I went to a private school that was far away from our place, so there was no option to walk. I remember feeling a mixture between boredom and sometimes fright of never being picked up. As an adult, I know this is unreasonable, but as a kid, it did seem plausible. The only difference is that I grew up in the Caribbean, so at least, I wasn’t freezing…

…wait a minute, is it the only difference? What else do you think was quite different? I didn’t have an electric device to distract me from my emotions.

Lately, I am reflecting a lot about the impact all these screens must have in kids and adults, and I must confess that it worries me. I wonder how, the fact that we can be constantly entertained by these devices affects our emotional health.

It is well known that humans don’t like to experience what we see as negative emotions, and as parents we want to protect our children from feeling emotionally distressed, so we do whatever we can to change their moods. Access to an electric device often seems like a good tool. If a child is bored in the car, he can play games on the telephone. Or if she doesn’t like to sit still at a restaurant, she can watch videos on YouTube while the food is served. I must confess that I enjoy the peace and quiet TV brings on weekend mornings too. My kids watch TV while I can enjoy my coffee in the other room without being disturbed.

What I wonder about is if not the constant access to screens gradually puts a veil in people’s ability to see their own emotions. We hide our discomfort, our distress by keeping our minds busy, and we loose contact with ourselves. I also wonder if this loss of inner contact can result in loss of empathy and the ability to see other people’s emotions.

One could argue that electric devices are not alone on having the role of distractors, some read to flee from reality or to relax, others play an instrument, or go for a run, but I would argue that all these activities and other that we use to distract ourselves, require more from us than pure entertainment coming out from a screen.

I know that there are many different factors that influence the mental and emotional health of a person, and I guess that if a child that has free access to electric devices grows up in an otherwise open family where any emotion is welcomed and communication is positive, what I write about must probably won’t happen.

Maybe that is the key, maybe that is what concerns me more than the screens, the fact that well-meant adults want to ‘protect’ children from challenging emotions instead of allowing them to feel and help them develop tools to cope, to learn from them. I think one of the biggest gifts we can give our children is to know that they can overcome any difficult situation by learning to go through the distress and pain. To find strength inside them and to ask for support when they need it. Sometimes we experience pain and distress because of our own perceptions, sometimes it is caused by our interactions with others, sometimes it is the result of unforeseen and uncontrollable life-situations. Maybe we can also teach our children to see the difference between them and encourage them to see how they can deal with them.

The only way out is through

Over the years, I have come to realise that I dislike emotional pain so much that I try to avoid it as much as I can, often in very stupid ways.

I sometimes ‘predict’ how a situation is going to make me feel so I either go around dreading the moment it is going to happen (which like with most predictions, never happens), or I do something impulsive to avoid the pain making an unnecessary mess.

The source of my distress is in some cases insecurity and fear of being judged or rejected. It comes from my attachment to an image of myself I want so badly to keep and people to have of me. I know what I stand for, I believe it comes from a good space, but I’m afraid of the conflict different opinions can create.

In other cases, the source is the unwillingness to face things as they are because I wish they were different. So I avoid the situation or go ahead and blame. It is funny how we believe blaming helps, but it really doesn’t make us feel better.

Expectations are also a problem. The mind game of expectations is quite refined in my case. I don’t like the gap between what I expect and how things turn out, so I either avoid or expect the worse (haha). So I show up already with a bad attitude, when in reality I don’t know what is going on I happen.

Some weeks ago, I decided to be courageous and:

  1. Stop predicting (duh!)
  2. When in a situation that I perceive as emotionally painful, take a deep breath and just observe the pain. Not run away, not act impulsively.
  3. Understand that the so-called pain comes from the gap between what I expect and what is really happening.

So far, I can say that it is helping. I believe that, the less resistance I make to myself and what is happening around me, the less I struggle.

It sometimes feels liberating, it sometimes sucks big time because I have to face what I don’t want to face.

This said, I believe that I gain a bit more understanding of how my mind works, and it allows me to move a bit up and further…

What my Yoga practice does and doesn’t do.

Practicing yoga doesn’t stop me from getting frustrated. Practicing yoga doesn’t stop me from getting angry. Practicing yoga doesn’t stop me from feeling blue. But it helps me accept my frustration, my anger and my sadness. It helps me create a space between my emotions and my reactions. It makes me question my perspective. So I get out of my spiral of negativity faster. Yoga has taught me to find my balance over and over again. Therefore, study, practice and use what you learn on yourself. Fail, fall and get up again and learn. That is all we can do.