I could tell you #3: Screening the Screens

#3 in a series: I can tell you, but you’re not going to like it.

Once again, I’m the fun-killer, offering information for your recreational purposes that you might not like hearing.

Thus far, I’ve discussed getting more sleep and more physical activity as ways to help children who seem restless, unhappy, unable to focus (except for electronics, usually). If you have been experimenting with those changes – perhaps for your children, perhaps for yourself – and a few weeks have gone by, I suspect you have noticed a few changes.

You may be sleeping better and waking up more rested and alert. You may be naturally less reliant on caffeine and high-sugar foods to wake up or to get through your day. If you were tracking it, you might also notice that you are spending less recreational time with electronics. If you were managing these changes for a child, you experienced some degree of pushback, possibly to the level of an addict being denied their drug of choice, because the brain becomes addicted to the rewards of social media, video games, etc., and it will take time to replace that addiction with healthy patterns. If you were able to persist, within a few weeks you probably noticed positive changes in mood and behavior.

Some studies have supported the approach of adding positive changes before taking things away. For example, if a person needs to quit smoking, eat healthier and exercise, success is most likely to accrue if exercise is added first. This becomes an additional reward and incentive, and can help buffer the withdrawal from nicotine as well as withdrawal from addictive, highly processed foods. In that spirit, it seems it could be easier to have begun helping a child heal from the cultural damages that contribute to anxiety, depression, attentional problems, etc. by adding positive things (sleep, exercise and play) before directly taking away negative things (specifically, the largely unsupervised world of the online universe).

If your child has any unsupervised screen time, it is almost guaranteed they are seeing things you do not know they are seeing or want them to see. End of story. You think you have adequate controls, and firewalls; and somewhere far away, people with far more expertise in technology than most of us are busily creating pathways to circumvent parental controls.

As I have shared in other columns, one of my little escapes in a long work day may be a two to four-minute clip off the internet of some old movie: a dance scene from Mary Poppins, a short scene from Much Ado About Nothing, a few moments of Branagh’s Henry V, the latter not cheery but stunningly well done and quite grounding, as examples. These are my typical fare: dancing penguins, singing suffragettes and Shakespeare, but sometimes up will come next some horrible thing – R-rated, violent, hideous – so terrible that even shutting it down immediately is too much exposure. From this I hypothesize that if you think your kiddo is happily watching perfectly clean children’s videos and do not supervise, you don’t know. You do not know whether some horror or corruption that was carefully created and marked with the right key words to intrude on that corner of the market is slipping into the stream.

Under the best of circumstances, if it were an hour or two of tap-dancing penguins, it is on too much time to surrender to passive entertainment without being selective. Most people will not just absent-mindedly pick up any book and read it for a couple of hours and then look up, surprised and resentful, when interrupted for food or water or homework. The internet, however, is something else: the endless parade of “talking” kittens, so-called “influencers” and worse contrive to steal time every day from many people. It’s not all bad, of course; I listen to educational lectures when I’m on the stationary bicycle six days a week. I’ve encouraged people to watch “The Chosen.” I’m in favor of well-researched educational programming. I’ve done car repairs under the tutelage of a mechanic on Youtube and am still stumbling through beginner Spanish with the internet, too.

If you are unconvinced about the use of the internet, watch the documentary, “The Social Dilemma.”

Cutting back on tech time is hard. You’re probably not, initially, going to like it, and odds are your child will fight you – hard. We’re talking about your child’s well-being: their physical health, mental health, intellectual development and social skills. It’s worth the trouble. Try adding the deliberate reduction of entertainment with electronics to the improved sleep and physical activity habits. Then see what happens.

My child is “hyperactive” Part 2: Move it!

Once again, for purely entertainment purposes, I foray into the world of possible changes to be made to your, and perhaps your child’s, routine to maximize well-being. Be sure to consult a health professional before undertaking new activities.

My child is hyperactive, part 2: Move it!

I am using “hyperactive” in quotation marks because, over the past 25+ years, many parents have offered this as their diagnosis of their children. When asked to describe the behaviors, they talk about poor attention, disorganization, disobedience, moodiness, lost homework and missing sports equipment, etc. It is this type of description, not the medical diagnosis per se, that I address here.

Human beings are designed to move: to walk, bend, stretch, jump, hop, climb, and more. We are able to throw things, build things, swim, dance, and then, when weary, sit and rest. Follow a healthy preschooler around for a few hours and you’ll get the idea: explore, play hard, stop when you’re ready to rest. Modern life seems to have it backwards: most people’s lives involve a preponderance of sitting and far too little standing and moving. This is unhealthy for most people (of course, some people have serious health limitations) and even worse for healthy children. To expect children to sit still for many hours is a recipe for attention and behavior issues as well as developmental challenges.

My paperwork for new clients includes questions on sleep, exercise, and basic health, because these habits help shape mental health, too. These also can highlight if mental health care needs to be coordinated with their physician due to physical conditions that can impact mental health. Obviously, we function best when our habits encourage physical and mental well-being.

In my last post, I challenged parents to take a hard look at their family’s sleep habits and work towards healthy changes. Perhaps by now you and your child have been experimenting with getting adequate sleep. A second step towards a healthier, happier child with better focus, memory and mood is physical activity. The American Heart Association recommends at least one hour per day of moderate to vigrous physical activity for children and teens. That means running, jumping, playing games, riding a bicycle, dancing, etc. It doesn’t mean a two-hour practice in which they spend 30 minutes on the field and 90 on the bench, waiting their turn. Ideally, it includes plenty of free interactive play with other children and some with parents. It is this play, which requires physical activity and complex social skills, that enhances brain development the best and prepares children for the increasingly complex world of the workplace. It includes the kind of rough-and-tumble play children traditionally have had primarily with fathers, in which the father would model how to pause and calm down before things get out of hand. Rough and tumble play without limits becomes “The Lord of the Flies” and grotesque gang violence. Life without play leads to passivity, poor social skills, poor physical health and higher risk for anxiety, depression, insomnia, and loneliness.

If your family pediatrician has cleared your child for physical activity, it is imperative to get moving. Your next task will be to find ways for your child or children to have more unstructured play time with children, and more outdoor activities with you, too. That will seem inconvenient, especially if you have your children overscheduled and accustomed to being moved from place to place and activity to activity, their entire lives carefully curated to keep them under the direct management of adults.

Go to the park and get on the swings, use the jungle gym, the climbing wall, the workout stands around the periphery. You might have to participate at first, just to show them how it’s done. Take nature walks. Put the phones away; have yours along to take pictures of interesting animals and plants to look up together later, after you’re home.

Like the change to the sleep routine, expect push-back. Be consistent and see what happens. I suspect that, once your child is on a normal sleep schedule for a few weeks, and has adequate active play, you will see some interesting changes in behavior. As a side benefit, screen time naturally is reduced: children who are active outdoors and getting enough sleep have less time to be drugged by their screens.

Have fun playing!

My child is hyperactive, Part 1.: You are getting sleepy…

POST # 1 In Series

A few months ago, I gave a talk for a women’s faith group on the importance of Sabbath time, and half-jokingly remarked that perhaps my next book would be entitled, “I could tell you, but you’re not going to like it.” On reflection, maybe that’s not such a bad theme and I herein copyright that title. So, here begins a series of indeterminate length addressing a variety of topics involving mental health, family life, relationships, and personal development that will include, at least for some people, something useful that may not sound very pleasant, or even seem not worth the effort. This being only for entertainment and not professional advice, that’s certainly fine; and given that reading this is free, it may even be worth the price of admission.

Many parents believe that their child is afflicted with Hyperactivity/Attention Deficit Disorder (ADHD). This is a mental disorder, its parameters laid out by the American Psychiatric Association, and is most often diagnosed by a list of behavior patterns, all of which drive adults absolutely batty. In the next couple of blog posts, I’ll be laying out some specific steps with which you can experiment, as a parent, to see if these free, simple changes bring about positive changes in your child’s attention, focus, mood and general demeanor. The good news: these will help any child thrive.

If your child is exhibiting symptoms of ADHD, then your first stop should be your pediatrician’s office to rule out health reasons, such as blood sugar issues, lead poisoning, and anemia, that can cause behavior problems and poor focus.

Assuming your child is healthy, and the following meets your pediatrician’s approval, the critical first step for you and your child will be to address the almost certain sleep deprivation that pervades the household. Start with some math: determine what time you and your child have to leave to begin the school and work day, and deduct 1 to 1.5 hours from that time. That is the desired wake-up time for your child. Your wake-up time should be at least 30 minutes prior, so you can have some quiet as you ease into your day for prayer, meditation, or a cup of coffee, perhaps with your spouse. If your child is in elementary school, wind back 9 to 10 hours from their targeted wake-up time. That is their time to be in bed. If you have a child who fights bedtime and sleep, I’d try 10 hours and let them read or journal – no electronics – quietly in their room and not be concerned about when they turn off the lights. They will learn, by being cranky and too tired in the morning, what happens when they stay up too late. Your bedtime should be about 1 to 1.5 hours after theirs, giving you some time for conversation, reading, and perhaps a few quiet chores. No screen time or fighting; either of these will impel your child to stay awake to either not miss the fun of screen time or to interfere with fighting.

Your child needs that time in the morning to get right out of bed, attend to grooming and dressing; they must make up the bed and stash pajamas, eat breakfast, clear the dishes, and perhaps do one simple chore: fresh water for the pets, wiping the table, etc. They should begin their day without rushing. No screens before school! This will leave time for play that helps meet the minimum 2 hours of active play children need for healthy brain development. If you’re lucky enough to have a fenced-in back yard, they can romp outdoors, toss a ball, jump rope, etc. until about 10 minutes before it’s time to leave for school. If you live in a condo or apartment, then you’ll have to be more creative: explore dancing, games such as desktop corn hole (yes, it exists; I have one for family sessions at the office. It cost $5.00), tai chi, yoga, or other activities that can be adapted for children and are safe indoors.

You will get plenty of push-back. No doubt you are arguing as you read this, generating reasons this can’t work for you. They have activities that run too late; they’re used to watching screens while eating, etc. You don’t want to give up your screen time, either.

A comment on that: four hours of recreational screen time per day comes to more than 2 weeks’ worth of 8-hour work days each month. Surely you have things you’d rather do with a free 2 work weeks each month than see what someone you went to high school with had for dinner or read the tenth rehash of the day of a news story?

This challenge is like a marathon: it’s simple, not easy. It will be hard.

Optimally, try these changes for a month before you give up. Do not vary your weekend rise/bed times by more than one hour. After a month, assess if the change has been helpful for you or your child.

On Being “Beyond”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately on being beyond. Beyond what, you might ask, and I’m sorting that out. Basically, though, it started with realizing that I am now in that great blob of the population described so often as “beyond.” As in the headlines on the covers of women’s magazines,

“Get glowing skin! Customized tips for your thirties, forties, fifties and beyond!”

“Walking for Fitness at Any Age! Belly-busting strategies for your thirties, forties, fifties, and beyond!”

I don’t know the extent to which men are burdened with this. I can imagine, though:

“Get ripped! Washboard abs workouts for your thirties, forties, fifties and beyond!”

Yeah, I’m beyond.

It sounds sort of like a super hero, as if at 60 – when we enter into Beyond – we ought to get a cape. I have a cape – Irish wool, very warm. If you think that sounds more cozy than conquering, you haven’t met enough Irish women. (Note to would-be inventors of Beyond Woman action figures: spare us the wasp waist. We have the usual age-related spinal compression plus hormonally driven fat redistribution. Keep it real, that’s all we’re asking. Because we are fine, better than fine, and in fact, beyond – just the way we are.)

It’s quite comical that the apparently youngish people who write so much media content put the newly 60s, the 60-year-olds’ mothers, their aunts, and centenarians all into one category, while the decades earlier are carefully delineated as if the difference between, say, 39 and 41 comprises dramatically more difference than between a 60-year-old and any given 80-year-old woman, and between that woman and a centenarian. It seems to reflect a silly and self-absorbed presumption about the nuances of midlife compared to the daily warfare of old age.

The implication is that, well, now you’re old and one old person is the same as the other. That is clearly ridiculous; there is far more difference between any two senior citizens than between any two 20-year-olds. How could there not be? Life has been unfolding, every day full of experiences that compound the differences. Every decision about habits, relationships, effort, sloth, etc., multiplies and intersects into complex and unintended consequences. If you are 30 and reading this, consider how different you are from the people who were your best friends in high school, just 12 years ago. Wait another 30 years of daily choices and the ramifications of those choices, plus the unexpected and random events of life, and the differences between you will be inestimable.

So, what does it mean, being beyond? Well, the ones I speak with are beyond thinking they are in some sort of competition with the whole world. They are beyond equally valuing everyone’s opinions; they stop craving indiscriminate approval. They are beyond getting aggravated about the minor speed bumps of daily life and getting tangled up in knots over every bit of bad news. They are beyond thinking that social media alerts outweigh the person we’re talking with now. They have long been beyond pretending that cynicism is the same as wisdom.

All this means freedom: freedom to play freely with children without worrying about our dignity, sing in our cars, and ask questions without worrying we’ll look stupid. We adapt to what our bodies can and can’t do today. We can be creative because it doesn’t matter if other people don’t like what we paint or draw or bake or build. And, out of that freedom, we can offer encouragement and hope to people who are still trapped in the completely voluntary constrictions of being not-yet-beyond.

And so, here’s to being beyond, with all its freedom, challenges and gifts.

What about you? What does being beyond mean – and will you wait until a magazine editor says you’re there to enjoy it?

Not Signing On

My professional associations fought for years to become approved Medicare providers, and, in January 2024, this will come to pass.

I won’t be signing on.

The primary reason, and one that is sufficient unto itself, is that I do not work with any insurance. Having a vast bureaucracy wedge itself between my clients and me, forcing me to diagnose grief as a mental disorder (for example), and to pathologize the search for meaning as life takes its confusing twists and turns, is against the principles under which I trained for this profession. To be alive entails suffering; to help those who suffer is not necessarily something that can be reduced to diagnostic and intervention codes. I can do cognitive-behavioral therapy and other science-based work without reducing the client and the heartache to a series of codes.

There are other reasons, which, if the simple fact of not working with insurance were not sufficient, would add weight to the argument.

It would limit my clients’ options. Some people want to self-pay for services, and if they have Medicare, and I have contracted with Medicare, I can no longer offer them that option. The rules would impose limits around what I can and cannot do, even when it does not cost Medicare anything.

Second, it would complicate my practice. As with all insurance companies, an online billing process for electronic submission would be necessary. My simple process of recording of payment and making a bank deposit would be replaced by electronically keeping track of what was paid, what is outstanding, what requires additional documentation or some other time-consuming and frustrating process, copays and coinsurance and deductibles. A conservative guess would be an additional five hours a week spent in this process, five hours that I believe would be better spent with a client or two, a professional training, a walk in the park.

Finally, there is the issue of insult. I am presuming that the Medicare per-session reimbursement for either of my professions, Mental Health Counseling and Marriage & Family Therapy, will be the same as Clinical Social Workers. It is my understanding this is the case with third party payors. With this as the expectation, then, by accepting the terms of Medicare, I would be acquiescing to the bizarre notion that my work as a psychotherapist is only about three-quarters the value of a clinical psychologist’s work. Of course, there are many clinical psychologists far more skilled than I; on the other hand, after many years in the field, I do not agree that any randomly selected clinical psychologist is necessarily my superior as a psychotherapist.

It is not the money; I work on a sliding scale, based on household income, and, as you might imagine, a number of my clients pay considerably less than Medicare would. However, the arrangements I have with God give me a sense of peace, not injustice. A client who pays me less because she is in poverty is part of my relationship with the Lord; an insurance company that pays me less because people who do not understand my profession have, via a dart board or an indolent board room debate or perhaps a roll of the die, have decided thus is tyrannical injustice; “Because we said so.”

So, while many in my profession are exuberant, feeling validated that our profession has achieved recognition on par with other mental health professionals, I shrug. If this makes them happy, I am glad for them. I hope that the process is fair and that my misgivings will turn out to be unwarranted.

But I won’t be signing on.

Using the Right Tool for the Job

When painting, the particular tools have to suit the purpose at hand. Pastels, my favorite medium, range from hard to very soft. The degree of hardness impacts the way they make marks and interact with the painting surface. Thus, they are used in ways appropriate to the task at hand. Softly blended colors – the distant trees, faintly blued by atmospheric effect – call out for soft pastels. The graceful lines of bare branches glimpsed through foliage are served better by a harder pastel. Use the wrong tool for the job and it is an exercise in frustration.

Just so, the various ways in which we communicate with one another have their preferred and best-suited purposes. I write letters in long hand to some family and friends; email has its role. The humble text message is an absolute delight in its place. Its place is best described as the brief sharing of simple data:

Writing out Christmas cards, can’t find Uncle Lew’s new address

123 Orchard Street, Apt. A, S______, STATE, ZIP.

Thanks.

Or,

At the rest stop at US 19 and I-10, should be there in about 3 hours.

Great! See you then!

Or, perhaps, sharing a quick photo: a hummingbird, frozen in flight; a child in her sports uniform, a lovely sunset.

Text messages, on the other hand, are wretchedly inadequate for important conversations and emotional expressions beyond, “Love you! Have a good day!” sort of messages. They are inadequate for many reasons.

For one, they are brief. Unless you have the ability to reduce complex ideas to simple, yet not simplistic, expression with the elegance of C.S. Lewis, the affective concision of Yeats and the incisive observational skills of Shakespeare, give up the notion of effectively resolving complex interpersonal issues via text. We are, none of us, up to the task.

Worse, when we misstep, believing ourselves to be abundantly clear, we cannot see, or hear, the nuances of small muscle movements, pupil changes, swallowing, breathing, voice tone and volume, that alert us to make corrective efforts. Instead, our misstep is enshrined in visible form, to be reviewed and the misunderstanding (or all-too-clear awfulness) revisited and engraved into the heart and mind of the recipient, as well as anyone with whom they share it in an attempt to justify themselves in their rage and hurt.

You might say, well, the same can be said for email (right) and for the older, handwritten letter. For the latter, until fairly recently, writing was laborious: a pen to be perpetually sharpened and wiped; liquid ink to let dry. Even now, the arm and hand movements of script engage more of the brain, slow the process, and thus allow time to reflect before dashing off a reactive and possibly toxic response.

Many clients have explored in session the dilemma of family members demanding a text message interaction to address – now! – some emotionally rich and complex issue. I urge them, and everyone, to resist giving in to the juvenile and narcissistic insistence that something of apparent critical import be reduced to text messages. It is quite common for people to demand immediate exchange via text, repeatedly insisting you explain yourself (or whatever it is they require). If it cannot be face to face, at least do so via voice when both people are rested, sober and have time. Audible clues of tone, volume, steadiness and rhythm can help you assess how the conversation is going. If you are dealing with a reasonable person, refuse to have serious dialogue via text. If you are dealing with someone who is unpredictably volatile, irrational, or substance-using, potentially violent, seek appropriate safety and guidance.

So, what to do? There are multiple right answers here, of course; feel free to enter into a text message discussion of why you dislike your sibling’s fiancé, or don’t want your in-laws at the birthday party, or are upset about your child’s fifth undergraduate major in three years. I’d recommend against it. I offer, as a starter set, a few options to firmly, and lovingly, employ as you refuse to play the “text message” game.

“I love you too much to have a conversation about something clearly this important to you by text. Let’s figure a time when we can both be well-rested and ready to talk.”

“This sounds like a topic best discussed face to face. When would be a good time for you?”

“I’m glad you let me know this is something we need to address. When can we discuss?”

The possibility exists that you are dealing with someone, including someone you love, who is emotionally immature. Perhaps they demand, imagining they need, immediate gratification in terms of “resolution”. By resolution, they may mean getting you to agree they are right or bullying you into capitulating in some other way. At worst, they may be willing to cancel you if you stumble through an awkward and unexpected conversation. If you love someone this immature, whether friend or partner or family member, it is a sad state of affairs. Still, giving in and trying to have emotionally complex conversations by text message (or email) will ineluctably lead to misunderstandings that can be read and reinforced in perpetuity. Just refuse.

Because, of course, you love them too much to reduce their concerns to a mere text message.

Take a Break: A Shabbat Habit

I was asked to give a talk to a women’s faith group about finding peace in this busy, stressful world. The direction I chose was to invite each person to consider how they keep Sabbath. Beyond attending worship, Sabbath includes truly connecting with God, with family and friends, with creation, and a deliberate disconnection from the usual routine of life. Perhaps you don’t practice a religion and feel that some sort of mandatory day of sitting around doing nothing sounds boring and stupid. “Sitting around doing nothing” is a corruption of what the day of rest was meant to be; think of it as a day to step away from your usual routine and focus on what is most important. If you’re having trouble figuring out what that might be, think about the people you’ve known who were dying, or what you focused on most when you lost someone you love. The great existential crises of life tend to make some things stunningly clear.

There are entire books written about the importance of Sabbath time, of that weekly stepping back from rushing, overstimulation and noisiness. This short column is just a little memo, to me as much as to anyone who might happen to read it and could use the reminder.

So why should anyone consistently and deliberately take a break from the routine? Here are a handful of the many reasons.

It gives you time to recuperate from overdoing. My car’s tachometer goes much higher than the engine is meant to run to function well. It’s the same for us. We are not meant to run at “100%” 24/7. Taking a step back from overdoing gives your body a chance to begin to recuperate from an overstressed state. A lot of people like to think they do their best work under pressure, but at a certain point, the nervous and endocrine systems will conspire to have you functioning in a way that reduces your access to your logical, analytic brain. You probably won’t notice it’s happening, but other people will.

It gives you time to begin to take a different perspective. Much of modern life is designed to keep us distracted and in an artificial sense of urgency. This interferes with reflection, the deeper thinking about what is going on, where our actions are taking us, and what does and does not really matter. Put another way, it can help you figure out what is important, versus what feels urgent but is not as important.

It gives you time to focus on relationships. Whether it’s online contact with family far away, time for a walk with your loved one, a meal with family or friends, or a ruthless, hours-long game of Monopoly, a Sabbath mindset puts aside clocks and schedules and savors the time with the people we love.

It provides time for play, rest, and creative pursuits. These are all important. They are not accessories, nor does their value derive from their contributions to work performance the rest of the week. They are part of being human and have inherent value without having to be subordinate to our work roles.

…and I, definitely, and you too, perhaps, are far nicer to be around when there’s been enough rest, fresh air, laughter, and time with people who love us. Sabbath time helps make us whole.

That wholeness is part of holiness. People who are too rushed and focused on work, on the “next thing,” on the next ping of an electronic device, are not able to tune into other people, to themselves, or to God. Doing what people most associate with Sabbath – going to worship services – loses something if I show up with a rushed, preoccupied, “Yeah, okay, but what’s next?” mindset. We need a break, a prolonged pause that lets what is important float to the surface of our attention.

If you think this sounds crazy…try it anyway. Try to take one day a week and carve it out as a day set apart. Spend time with the people you love. Read a book; take a nap, play games or work on a puzzle. Savor the music you’ve diligently collected. Make art. Write a poem. Go for a nature walk. Cook and enjoy a meal together. Put your devices away except for purposeful connection with people not physically present. Then try it the next week. Try it for four or five weeks, and see what you find.

Shalom. Peace.

Prodigal and in your face

The holy days of fall and winter have begun, with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur behind us and Thanksgiving, Hannukah, Advent and the Christmas holidays closing in fast. The stores overflow with all things green, red and peppermint. This means that one of the dreaded markers of the season is also upon us. You might be thinking about the price of turkeys, or heating bills, or navigating the dynamics of family and politics, but I am thinking in particular of the seasonal outbreak of atheism and related forms of cynicism among adolescents and young adults. Except for the power to disrupt other people’s good times, I’m not sure why so many families experience the angry outburst, arrogant smirks or sullen refusal to participate in the traditional prayers and rituals of life just when it is most likely to hurt. Other than the week of Passover and Easter, there is no time more likely to cause suffering, than the fall and winter holidays: the season seems to be a favorite target for unleashing pent-up bitterness over having been raised in a tradition of faith and culture.

So, if this has happened to your family, you’re not alone. Over a quarter-century in the mental health field, I have had to see many families distressed at the verbal attacks, the rebellion, and the apparent determination to be hurtful. Fighting with the young person about it is, of course, useless. Trying to listen calmly, refusing to participate in conversations that are disrespectful, and suggesting the conversation continue later (and then following up to be sure “later” can happen) are potentially helpful. Give yourself time to calm down, seek guidance from other people, consider the direction being taken. If the young person has decided that belief in God is a superstition, something incompatible with science, perhaps they are willing to explore this, including the substantial number of scientists who are convinced that there is a God. Perhaps they are willing to learn about intelligent design from non-biased sources. When the attitude is not mere cynicism but actual anger, it is very painful. Sometimes the rage is about the perceived lack of choice, the complaint is that they didn’t want to participate in the faith from childhood and that the introduction into the faith, whether bris or baptism, was abusive and unfair.

A rabbi whom I consulted echoed the mental health professional’s perspective: look at what else is going on, what other issues are at hand. Someone who has found clarity (as they see it) should be more peaceful, not angry. An adolescent or young adult who has decided that religion is just superstition might be annoyed at being expected to participate, but will not be enraged. Anger is the sign that the presenting assertion is merely the top layer. What else is going on? Why the sudden rage? Is someone smart enough – smarter than Fr. Georges le Maitre, the Jesuit priest and physicist who developed the theory now called the “big bang theory,” apparently, by their own reckoning – simultaneously naïve enough to believe something just because some people who sound convincing said so on some internet platform? What other indoctrination have they absorbed with unquestioning readiness?

Of course, you won’t have this conversation at Thanksgiving, right after the young person drops the bomb of their atheism, or rejection of religion, or rage at you about their Baptism, Bar or Bat Mitzvah, or Confirmation. That’s the time to somehow find the patience to be, or pretend to be, calm, politely curious and willing to discuss this later. The conversation may happen over weeks, months, or years; it may involve some third party – a religious advisor, a therapist, a wise friend who has been on the same road.

It won’t be a fun conversation, and we can’t control the outcome. By being calm, listening carefully, asking sincere questions and verifying that you understand, you leave the door open for further dialogue as well as for the possibility of a change of heart.

Changes of heart are hard to admit, and even more so in the world of social media. If a young person adopts a position, there will be a host of online encouragers. If the young person reports pushback from adults, there will be more voices, criticizing the adults, urging cutting off the relationship, etc. But, if the young person announces a change of heart, some of these voices of encouragement can become accusing, vindictive, cruel. Backing out of a decision can always be hard; imagine telling your parents you’ve decided to drop out of med school to be a professional surfer. Consider the people who go through with weddings because they don’t want to disappoint people. Even smart, competent adults foolishly move forward into situations they know are wrong because they don’t want the transient embarrassment and miserable, but also transient, short-term effects. How much harder it is for young people who haven’t finished developing a mature brain.

This means our first job, as adults, is to listen with compassion and find a way to keep the door of communication open. This way, when the young person is ready to reconsider, or be less vitriolic, or simply have a real dialogue, it will not require they have the desperation of the Prodigal Son to take the first steps. Whenever the child takes those first steps towards dialogue and reconciliation, remember the father in the parable, who ran to meet the returning child.

The Serotonin Story

Unless your newsfeed features obscure psychiatry and psychology news, UK news, or the very limited US news coverage of the July 2022 publication of “The serotonin theory of depression: A systemic umbrella review of the evidence,” in the Journal of Molecular Psychiatry, you might not have heard this news. In a sweeping meta-analysis addressing six serotonin-based hypotheses and multiple studies, one of over 150,000 people, the conclusion has been drawn that, verifying what the senior author of the article, Dr. Mark Horowitz, noted is “known in academic circles, that no good evidence has ever been found of low serotonin in depression (Medscape, July 22, 2022).” The evidence does indicate, in some studies, that long-term use of some antidepressants can lead to lower serotonin levels, just as long-term use of drugs that boost dopamine (amphetamines, for example) can ultimately lead to depletion and insufficiency of that neurotransmitter.

To repeat, in the academic world, it has long known there is really no substantive evidence linking low serotonin levels to depression. This is similar to the academic knowledge that marijuana, especially in its modern, heightened THC formulas, is a dangerous road to sometimes unrelenting anxiety or even psychosis. However, since science is hard and so often inconvenient, these particular unpopular truths have usually been ignored. About one in six Americans, and about one in six English adults, are on antidepressants. Yet the science says the rationale for these drugs – that they will fix a chemical imbalance in the brain – does not stand. The science does seem to indicate a placebo effect, as well as some people experiencing a numbing of emotional pain, which might be sufficient to begin the work of the changes necessary to heal from depression. The researchers are quick to note that no one should stop these medications quickly; cessation ought to be done slowly, with medical supervision, because of the risk of physical and psychological ill effects during withdrawal.

Depression, as Dr. Horowitz’ team and countless other researchers and clinicians have long asserted, is a complex experience of physical, emotional, cognitive and social aspects. It is also a rather fluid diagnosis, encompassing, as it does now in the current diagnostic manual, almost any two-week period in which sufficient symptoms are met, even when life’s events make it a completely normal response. As I have noted in other articles, the grief exclusion for depression has been eliminated, for example. Are we, therefore, to believe that, once someone you love dies, you develop a potentially lifelong brain disease in which one neurotransmitter (among many) suddenly goes haywire? Or is it feasible that death, or profound injury, or the loss of a job or home or friendship, etc., could cause sadness, physical pain and fatigue, and a tendency to withdraw from the very activities and relationships that could bolster recovery?

One of the interesting aspects of this study was its analysis of the very popular genetic explanation, a sort of, “It runs in my family,” explanation for depression. Besides the scientific analysis of the large body of research indicating that that while a very small, initial study hinted this may be the case, the much larger research studies indicate it is not. Of course, there is more to “running in the family” than genes. Some of this may be impacted prenatally via epigenetics, which helps tell which genes to turn “up” or “down” (a grotesque oversimplification; sorry) depending on environmental stressors such as severe poverty and want of food. Then our families teach us whether the world is a safe place or not, and whether to take risks or not. Optimally, families teach us we are worthwhile, and how to make connections and corrections in relationships. They set a life pattern in place that may ses us up for long-term healthy habits, or inflict a neglected or violent childhood that results in shortened telomeres and the prospect of an unhealthy and too-short adulthood. If the family fights dirty, abuses substances and one another, is rejected by the community via being fired repeatedly from jobs, ostracized by neighbors, and disliked by peers, the children will grow up to be unlikeable, rejected, angry and depressed adults. There need not be any genetic component for this to be the case.

This type of adult will need to learn to heal wounds, how to develop a sense of purpose and meaning, and the cognitive skills to overcome depression. The latter includes developing the skill of interrupting and redirecting rumination, challenging and changing unhealthy thought and behavior patterns and thus changing emotions, and improving the skill of being in the moment, or, as Dr. Stephen Hayes has written, “Get out of your head and into your life.”

There are biological factors at play; anyone who believes they are suffering from depression ought to have a full physical exam, including bloodwork, to rule out medical causes for many of the symptoms of depression. Good guidance on nutrition, sleep, exercise and natural light exposure are all in the physical realm of helping, and deficiencies in any of these areas may be sufficient to trigger the low mood, lack of energy, erratic eating and sleeping identified with depression.

There is, as can be seen, nothing here that is so complex that it is beyond the average person’s ability to understand and do. For most of human history, the rhythm of sleep, hard work, natural light, meaningful connections with others and a strong accession to the transcendent provided a milieu in which profound suffering had both meaning and support. Our lives were designed for mental health. This, alone, is so reassuring and empowering that one would think that this simple, ancient recipe for mental health would have never been relegated to a supporting role. Unlike the message that your brain is broken and there is nothing to be done except take this pill – which may make you suicidal, or homicidal, or cause tremendous weight gain, sexual difficulties, apathy, or moments of mania – the message of the Horowitz et al research is a hopeful and inspiring one: that it is possible to overcome the depression that threatens to crush your spirit.

Gorillas in the Mix

People who do not believe in God, or are afraid to believe in God, often make predictable assertions to support their position. They will often start with a mocking supposition about an old wizard or some such image who sits on a throne in the sky. Well, duh. No mature believer takes those images literally any more than they still believe that their doll’s hair will grow back overnight, or that wishing their stuffed bunny is real will make it so. No, we have outgrown childish things, thank you very much.

Another argument points to how badly people behave who claim to believe in God. Well, again, no surprise. Of course, humans behave badly; that is a big part of the whole story. Have you read our sacred books? Good grief, it’s nothing but lying and murder, greed and adultery and every sort of mischief, about from the beginning. Adam screws up and blames both Eve and God! Before long, our partner in conversation points to the sexual abuse horrors of the modern age. There are no excuses for this. Religion, of course, isn’t the only arena with a flawed priestly class. The fact that scientific experiments often lead to no useful knowledge doesn’t keep people from vigorously asserting we must follow the science. Some scientists torture beagle puppies and other ones discover how to vaccinate against polio and rubella. We do not throw out the world of “science” because some of its clergy are pretty terrible.

Doesn’t all this magical God stuff just give us an excuse to not learn things? This intriguing question seems rooted in the confusion between parable, history, poetry, wisdom texts, and other types of books in the Bible. Nowhere in Scripture are people charged with staying as dumb as possible, and many scientists will admit that the more they learn, the more apparent it is that what comprises the material world does not seem to be mathematically possible as a random series of events. What is obvious, perhaps, to a physicist like the late Father le Maitre, the Belgium priest who first came up with what is now known as the Big Bang Theory, is a bit harder sell to regular people.

This leads to a particularly interesting argument: if God really exists, it would be obvious, and not just to Jesuit scientists. How obvious, you might ask, and so would I. As obvious as a Marvel Comics super hero? Would God look like a Durer woodcut, wearing what were called JC leather sandals, and making a peace sign? Would the bad people be punished, instantly and with schadenfreude-gratifying anguish by a lightning-wielding Viking in the sky? Despite the childish imagery, our non-believer wants to pin believers down on the issue of God’s supposed invisibility. To believers, though, God’s existence is clear as day, although sometimes it is recognized on reflection and not in the moment. Still, God is obvious, as obvious as a gorilla in the middle of a basketball game.

Of course, I am referring to the famous and oft-replicated experiment designed by Chabris and Simons in 1999. Given the task of counting how often the basketball was passed between one team’s players, almost 60% of the subjects failed to see the person in a gorilla suit walk through the basketball court.

Yes, perfectly bright people stared at a short film clip, diligently counting basketball passes and bounces, and failed to see the obvious. Other scientists, around the world, have replicated this experiment with much the same outcome. People focused on a task will ignore the obvious, even a person in a gorilla suit strolling through a basketball game. How much of a stretch is it that we miss other remarkably obvious things in our environments?

I imagine most people think they would be in the 40% or so that would notice the gorilla, but statistically, that’s unlikely. We can’t all be above average. More likely we all ignore, or fail to attend to, amazing things every day, selectively riveting our attention and discounting other stimuli as irrelevant or interference. One listener’s static is another’s radio transmission.

The non-believer, and perhaps, at times, almost all believers, have some confusion about what is, and is not, God’s job. I know I suffer with this one, too: don’t we all ask for things and view the apparent “no” or “not yet” as rejection, like when Mom or Dad once again says “no” to ice cream for dessert? Sometimes it takes a long time to see the utility of experiences, because a believer has to learn to see things, to the extent possible, through a different perspective – a God perspective.

We will die. That’s inevitable, and death seems to be easier for people who have made peace with the people in their lives, with God, and with at least most of the processes of aging. It must be easier to let go of this life without too much reservation, when one has, often slowly and painfully, surrendered so much: health, beauty, quickness of body and mind, social power, loved ones, valued roles in our relationships. Every loving mother (I am not a father and cannot speak to this) knows that our children move on from each level of parenting before we are ready to let go, and those practices of having part of life that is important to us peeled away is preparation for eternal life. Imagine how painful it must be for young people who are terminally ill or terribly injured and facing mortality, who have not had the practice of surrendering, over and over, to the losses of life. A believer looks back over this pattern and can see, very clearly, where God was present (all through it) and how the love and compassion of God was extant in some people around them, the coincidences that were not coincidences at all, the seemingly random moments of pure, abandoned joy.

If you are preoccupied with the tasks of the day, riveted on a to-do list and the self-created commands of your bullet journal, do not be surprised if you miss the obvious, even something as obvious as a gorilla in the mix.

drloriputerbaugh

Psychotherapist, Author, Teacher

Tag Archives: psychology