In Praise of Distraction

Distraction has gotten a bad rap. Dealing with your problems head on, figuring out why you feel that way, changing your thoughts. These are the strategies most employed by self-help books. But sometimes when you are stuck or overwhelmed or just need a break from the hard work of healing, distraction can be the best medicine.

There is a Calvinist thread that runs through the fabric of all healing and development: work harder. And if you knew me, you would know I am not against hard work. But as I have mentioned before, healing isn’t always about effort. When you break a bone, you don’t work harder for it to heal. You set it, you create the right conditions. You splint it so it can’t move. You do other things because you can’t do all of your usual things. And without your active intervention the bone knits back together.

And sometimes this is what the psyche needs too. Sometimes when your emotions are too irritated, when everything is setting them off, when you feel yourself constantly triggered—it's better not to engage the emotion at all. It’s better not to have that part of your brain work. The neuroscience adage is that what fires together-- wires together and when you get yourself in an endless loop of emotions or flashbacks you need to stop those neurons from firing together and ironically the best way to do that is to not do something, or do something else. When the emotion or flashback comes on, change your activity, change your location, put on music, watch a stupid TV show. Drown out, distract out, do whatever you have to do to shift your mind away.

A brain that has lost control is just like a toddler brain. I’m not insulting you. It happens to everyone, you, me, people who have experienced trauma and people who haven’t. And when a toddler loses it—nothing is going to get ‘talked’ away. Your best hope is distraction and jollying them into paying attention to something else.

For anyone whose brain has just had too much stress or emotion—distraction—rest from the stress and emotion can be very healing. It’s the emotional equivalent of putting your brain in a sling. It’s actually not easy to get brains to slow down and relax. In fact, mindfulness and relaxation, are paradoxically difficult practices. The more we sit in quiet, the more we see just how active and spinning our minds actually are. Doing absolutely nothing can actually be too hard, which is why distraction can be better rest. Just something for your brain to pay attention to instead. 

There are times to work hard at healing and figuring out what is working for you and what isn’t. But when the brain’s ‘check engine light’ goes on because everything feels like it’s on fire, this is the time to switch the engine off, and let it cool down.

There isn’t one thing that will work for everyone. What you need will match your temperament, your mood, your physiology, and your level of distress. Some things work better for emotional pain and some things work better for the endless loop thinking that can be so difficult. Sometimes being out and about among people helps and sometimes it’s an afternoon in your pajamas and a whole season of something on Netflix. Sometimes it’s tackling some project you have long ignored and sometimes it’s reading to your kids all afternoon. It merely needs to be something that when you do it, you notice that the pressure gauge in your system starts to go down. Or you notice that you can breathe better. Or you notice that for these moments you aren’t in pain.

Distraction allows for some of the rest and rejuvenation you will need to head back in to the harder pieces of work. It allows you, sometimes for the first time, to realize that you can switch your emotional or thinking state from one state to another.

I’ve found it helpful as both a therapist and a client to have a list of helpful distractions written on a piece of paper or notecard placed where it can easily be found. The reason this is helpful is that you can make the list with the resources of your whole brain.  When you are in a bad emotional place, you only have your small, toddler brain—so having the list allows you to tap in to your whole brain by looking at it. 

It’s a trial and error process. Some days some things work and some days things don’t. If you have ever met a 3 year old this will make total sense to you. Some days grilled cheese sandwiches are their favorite food ever. And some days they push it away as soon as you serve it saying they have always hated grilled cheese. Don’t expect yourself to like everything you do all the time. If it doesn’t work, move on to something else on the list. And it can even be helpful if it isn't perfect. If it lowers the volume in your head--if the feelings are less loud or less irritating--that can be a good start. Sometimes you will watch TV and the flashbacks will still be there, but more in the background. Sometimes that is the best you can do.

Just keep adding to the list. And use the distractions to give your emotions or thinking a rest. And don’t worry. You won’t spend the rest of your life watching re-runs or Youtube. That’s the beauty of healing and growth. When the brain is rested it will want to get busy again and you will head back to doing what you need to do. And, you will have learned how to give your brain a rest.

©Gretchen L Schmelzer, PhD 2023


Having new conversations with our old demons

I have spent the last decade or so trying to help people understand the cyclic nature of healing. To understand that healing happens in cycles and not a straight line—that you heal in layers and not some made-for-tv movie version of ‘before’ and ‘after.’ But there is such pull to the fantasy of ‘cure. ’ And there is such power in the belief that once we understand something or talk about something we are ‘done.’ So many of my clients have come in to therapy or coaching and said, ‘But I’ve already dealt with that—I shouldn’t need to talk about it again...’ And I’ve complained to my therapist,” But I’ve written articles on that, and led therapy groups about that—how can this still be hard for me?”

But the problem isn’t our demons as much as it is our understanding of them and our relationship to them. We often think of our demons—the things we say to ourselves or the things we do that we don’t like—as the problem. And it’s true that in your current life they may have actually become the problem. The negative self-talk, the perfectionism, the overeating or drinking, the avoidance or aggression. But here’s the thing: every one of our demons initially showed up to help us solve problems. Our demons were not the problems—they were our problem-solvers. And our most successful problem-solver demons stuck around.

So, if you want to live without those particular demons—you need to understand the problem that they are always working to solve. You don’t solve the demon—you take over the burden it has been carrying for you.

But here’s the catch: our demons—our protections—lower our anxiety. They help us not feel the hurts or traumas of the past. They help us not feel anxious, or angry, or helpless, or depressed. So, when you attempt to get rid of them—when you try to eat differently, or stop drinking, or organize your finances—you suddenly feel all the feelings that the demons were holding. You don’t feel better. You actually feel worse. This is why there is such a high relapse rate in behavior change (almost all health behavior change has an 80% relapse rate.) Instead of feeling better and getting rewarded for the change –we feel worse—and we find ourselves in a wrestling match with ourselves. Soon it’s just easier to go back to our old habits and let our demons have their old jobs back. It’s division of labor we are used to: I’ll run my life—and you, demons, will manage my fears.

The problem isn’t our attempts at change. The problem is how we are doing it. Most of us try to change by exiling our demons. By denying them or trying to get rid of them. Instead, get to know them. Get to know what they have been doing for you. Get to know the feelings they are holding and the feelings that they are protecting you from. If you don’t want your demons to run your life—you don’t send them away—you invite them in closer. You need to partner with them. And in many cases, you will need to parent them. Our demons are much younger versions of ourselves—of our attempts to solve really hard problems that happened long ago. Our demons aren’t trying to ruin our lives—they are just in over their heads.

The answer to our problems with demons—with old protections—is conversation.

 Are you asking me to talk to myself?”

Actually, yes, I am. Working with our demons is essentially couples therapy for a self—for the parts of ourselves that wants to change—and the parts of ourselves that have been protecting ourselves from the feelings that will arise if we make that change. We need to sit next to them—and not in opposition to them. We need a conversation—we need to understand. And maybe even more than that—we need to express our gratitude for all the hard work that they have done.

Practically speaking I recommend journaling. Writing about the demon—when you think it showed up and why. All the ways it has helped and has gotten in the way. What you fear would happen if you were to live without it. What do you think it is protecting you from. This sort of journaling is helping you know what you know—and put your knowledge in one place. It gets at the awareness you have built over time. And then, if you are up for the experiment: ask your demon a question. Ask your demon what it is thinking, what is hard for it, what it needs. And sit and breathe and wait for an answer. The answer might be a word or an image or a feeling. This isn’t an outside voice. It’s yours. It’s just one that’s been outside your awareness.

I can hear you saying, “but this is too much time” or “this is too much work.” And I hear you. I get it. I wish there were a quicker and easier way—but relationships take time, effort and conversation. If you want your demons to trust you enough to let go of their problems and hand them over to you to solve differently—you need to be a trustworthy partner. You need to show up patiently and consistently, and you need to stay in contact and connect. You need to turn towards them, as the couples therapist Dr. John Gottman would say, by responding to their quiet requests. And perhaps most of all, you need to say, “Thank you.”

© 2023 Gretchen L. Schmelzer, PhD

 

Become Sea Glass: Brave the Waves this Year!

Many years ago when I was training in psychology, I had the idea that as the years went by I would get better at what I did and it would all feel more polished, more perfect, more decisive. I had a picture of myself finishing my training all bright and shiny. But that’s not what happened. Instead of bright and shiny —I became more and more like sea glass.

Sea glass is beautiful. Everyone loves sea glass, and everyone wants to find sea glass, but no one wants to become sea glass. It is worn and shaped by the forces around it. It is beautiful because of what it has endured. The original colors change, but become something even more beautiful. But sea glass is never bright and shiny. It is not perfect glass. In fact, it is broken glass—the furthest thing from perfect.

In my training I had my rough edges worn away from the hours and people and experience. And mostly my mistakes. Hundreds and hundreds of mistakes. Things I should have said and things I shouldn’t have said. Thousands of hours of good intentions and hundreds and hundreds of misses and repairs. Years of training had my heart become softer and my thinking less definitive. It was nothing I could have imagined when I began, and yet as I headed out into my career I was grateful.

Sea glass isn’t like regular glass. It is sturdy. It no longer breaks easily. The only way to become sea glass is to put yourself out into the surf and let yourself get hit by wave after wave. Through all seasons and all storms. You need to get buried by the beach pebbles and rolled around in the stones. You need to get pounded by the surf, and hit by the wind, and scorched by the sun.

I have been thinking about sea glass as I head into my goals this year in this season of change. So much of what can get accomplished in terms of change or healing or growth is our willingness to put ourselves out into the surf and let the waves crash over us. Healing requires this courage—to keep putting yourself in the space of healing, keep risking the conversation, keep tolerating the emotions, keep learning new behaviors.

And all growth means letting yourself make mistakes. Hundreds and hundreds of them. Letting yourself roll around and crash on the stones. Letting your courage help you wear those rough edges off, help you reveal your deep colors, help you become sturdy.

Beach glass takes time. On the beach in Maine in the summer, when you find a piece of glass that is still shiny, you throw it back in. You give it more time. And thinking about this reminds me that maybe the goals that I have been struggling with are just pieces of glass that need more time. I need to throw those goals back in this year. Let the surf hit them again. Let myself struggle and make mistakes and run up against hard edges—and let those mistakes and hard edges soften me, and help me bring out my beauty. I encourage you to do the same.

© Gretchen L. Schmelzer, PhD 2023/2014

Stop. Breathe. Reflect. Resolve.

On this morning’s run I got a wonderful sighting of a hawk, high up on a telephone pole. I am on an island and over the dunes I can see out to the water. This morning the water was calm—almost lake-like. The air was heavy waiting for rain. High up on a telephone pole, the hawk was looking out to sea: looking for fish, pondering, scanning the horizon in the distance. He sat solid—still. I followed his gaze as best I could. I looked out at the horizon line. It looked endless-and impossible to fully take in.

Perhaps I was struck by the hawk more this morning than most because today is the day for looking out—or looking ahead. Everyone is asking about your plans for 2023—what do you want? What resolutions do you have? I envied the hawk his keen sight—wishing for a clarity of view that I imagined he had. But as I watched him longer (and got a bit of a respite from my run) maybe what I envied even more than his sight was his stillness. His ability to stop long enough to slow down and really see.

If you can take anything from the wisdom of hawks—this is probably one of the best. How to stop and be still. How to reflect and see. Here’s the thing: I have found that in most cases it isn’t that you don’t know what to do in difficult situations or in planning next steps. It is that you almost never slow down enough to know what you know. Most adults have accumulated a lot of experience – in their work, their lives, their healing. But you are always moving forward to the next thing—always looking for the next problem to solve. And often, looking for the answer outside of yourself—looking for an easier answer, or the right answer, or what other people think is ‘the best practice.’ Forgetting that you often have decades of experience to bring to the issue you are grappling with. Ignoring the vast horizon of information that you carry with you.

So, as you prepare for the year ahead, I want to stop you.  I want to slow you down. I want you to sit still. Sit hawk-still and look out on the horizon of your last year. I want to nudge you to take some time to look back and reflect before you begin to plan for what you want to do next.

If slowing down and reflecting isn’t your thing—you aren’t alone. In her article on why we should make more time for reflection (even though we may hate doing it)-- Jennifer Porter notes that the most common reasons that we don’t like reflection:  we don’t understand the process of reflection, we don’t like the process of reflection, we don’t like what we see when we do it, and we have a bias toward action[1]. But here’s something you may not know: research shows that reflection was more effective in supporting future action than additional experience was[2]. And while we often have a bias in our reflection on what went wrong—we learn important things when we reflect on both our successes and our failures[3].

Reflection is the act of slowing down to know what you know—to observe what you have done, what worked, what didn’t, and what you have come to understand about how to do what you do, and how to understand the meaning of what you do. Reflection supports both your ability to do the things that are important to you—and reflection supports the way you feel about yourself and your effectiveness.

So before you plan the year ahead—please take time to reflect. You could start by going through your dayplanner or calendar and even seeing what you did and who you did it with this last year. You could do it alone. You could do it in conversation. Make a list. Or write it on flip chart paper. Or make a slide show. You will be surprised by some of it—you will be surprised by what you have already forgotten.

Or if you are seeking even more structure you could use the framework offered by Burnett and Evans in their book Designing a Life. They use a dashboard of four categories: Health, Work, Play and Love. And I encourage you to reflect on the categories fully over the past year. What did you do? Highs and Lows? Surprises?  What worked and didn’t? What you learned? What you lost and gained? What you would have done differently and why?

In my 5-phase model of healing from repeated trauma I strongly encourage everyone to start with preparation: gather your resources and build a foundation for the important work of healing. This foundation helps you sort through what did happen and what didn’t happen and helps you untangle the ways you protect yourself and can often get in your own way. And this transition into a new year is no different. You need to build a strong foundation from which to spring into what you want and need next. And this is as true for teams and organizations as it is for individuals.

Perhaps, because it is winter and most of the world is fallow, we forget the wisdom of nature and growth and planting new things. We aren’t reminded through our current actions how to support growth. You don’t just leap in to action. You reflect on what you grew and what helped. But most importantly you turn over your compost and add it to your beds—and then you till that compost into the soil so new things can grow. This is the invisible work of gardening—of taking the what is old and digested to support new growth. And this is the invisible, but crucial work you need to do: to turn over your learning and digest it enough to take forward.

 © 2023 Gretchen L. Schmelzer, PhD


[1] Porter, J. (2017). Why you should make time for reflection (even if you hate doing it). HBR March 21, 2017. 

[2] Di Stefano, G., Gino, F., Pisano, G., and Staats, B. (2014). Making Experience Count: The Role of Reflection in Individual Learning. HBS Working Paper 14-093.

[3] Cannon MD, Edmonson AE. 2001. Confronting failure: Antecedents and consequences of shared beliefs about failure in organizational work groups. Journal of Organizational Behavior, 22: 161–177.  Edmondson AE. 2011. Strategies for learning from failure. Harvard Business Review, July-August: 48– 56.