I heard a great interview on NPR's "Fresh Air" yesterday with Dan Gottlieb, a family therapist and call-in host on a Philadelphia radio show.
What sets Gottlieb apart is his story: a quadraplegic for 29 years after an automobile accident on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
Terry Gross asked Gottlieb questions on a range of topics, but I was most taken with his openness about his own anxiety and panic attacks. He described a time when he spent 3 days on a meditation retreat. The night he returned, he awoke in the middle of the night with a terrible panic attack. He said something like, "Couldn't I get more than 5 hours of peace after this wonderful retreat?"
Gross asked how Gottlieb deals with these attacks. I liked his answer. Gottlieb said he looks to the past, remembering that the last time he had an attack, it passed and he got over it. Then he said he steps outside himself and tries to watch himself. He said he observes himself with compassion.
How about that? What if we were able, when anxious, to objectively step back and look at ourselves in love?
Gottlieb said he tries to be tender with his mind as well as his body, which he admits seems to be tiring more easily. "I care for my body like it is a fragile lover that I adore," Gottlieb said.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Anxiously devoted to you
Alaska Lutheran clergy gathered April 22-23 in Clergy Collegium for fellowship and continuing education.
One of our speakers was Michael Nel, ELCA Region 1 consultation to clergy.
Nel spoke about "Societal Emotinal Process" and "Societal Regression." Now doesn't that make you sit up and take note :)
Actually, it was all about anxious families making anxious societies. Got any anxieties? Read on, gentle reader.
Working from the writings of psychologist Murray Bowen, Nel noted that our society seems to be chronically anxious. How do you know when a society is anxious? A few ways to know:
1.) Responding with emotionality, rather than sound decisions based on principles.
2.) Discussions about how to manage anxiety, rather than underlying problems.
3.) A push for "togetherness" or "sameness" to manage anxiety.
4.) Making lots of rules to manage anxiety.
5.) Focus on rights rather than responsibilities.
6.) Desire for "quick fix."
Any of these happening in our country post-9.11? Any of these ever happen in your family?
Nel suggested behaviors around security, intelligence and "band-aid" legislation as some indications of chronic anxiety in our society.
So how can we deal with anxieties in our self, family and world?
Some suggestions, per Nel:
1.) Look inside yourself, rather than looking for someone else to fix it.
2.) Ask for the facts, become objective, rather than emotionally responsive.
3.) Meditate.
4.) Go to a physical place where you can be more thoughtful.
5.) Make "I" statments to define who you are and what you want/need.
6.) Be aware of anxiety's ability to make you push for togetherness or sameness.
Nel also noted that in marriage counseling, he pushes couples to do exercises separately so they can be more grounded in self before bringing them back together.
He also said abuse occurs more often in families where there is forced togetherness or sameness.
One of our speakers was Michael Nel, ELCA Region 1 consultation to clergy.
Nel spoke about "Societal Emotinal Process" and "Societal Regression." Now doesn't that make you sit up and take note :)
Actually, it was all about anxious families making anxious societies. Got any anxieties? Read on, gentle reader.
Working from the writings of psychologist Murray Bowen, Nel noted that our society seems to be chronically anxious. How do you know when a society is anxious? A few ways to know:
1.) Responding with emotionality, rather than sound decisions based on principles.
2.) Discussions about how to manage anxiety, rather than underlying problems.
3.) A push for "togetherness" or "sameness" to manage anxiety.
4.) Making lots of rules to manage anxiety.
5.) Focus on rights rather than responsibilities.
6.) Desire for "quick fix."
Any of these happening in our country post-9.11? Any of these ever happen in your family?
Nel suggested behaviors around security, intelligence and "band-aid" legislation as some indications of chronic anxiety in our society.
So how can we deal with anxieties in our self, family and world?
Some suggestions, per Nel:
1.) Look inside yourself, rather than looking for someone else to fix it.
2.) Ask for the facts, become objective, rather than emotionally responsive.
3.) Meditate.
4.) Go to a physical place where you can be more thoughtful.
5.) Make "I" statments to define who you are and what you want/need.
6.) Be aware of anxiety's ability to make you push for togetherness or sameness.
Nel also noted that in marriage counseling, he pushes couples to do exercises separately so they can be more grounded in self before bringing them back together.
He also said abuse occurs more often in families where there is forced togetherness or sameness.
A True Vacation
After my sojourn in Nome, I spent April 7-15 in Hawaii (on Kauai) with a good friend. It was a wonderful, relaxing, rejuvinating experience.
That next Sunday, a female parishioner at the 8:15 service said to me:
When I moved to Alaska from Chicago, I went back every Christmas to see my family. Then one winter, I went to Hawaii. I said to myself, "Now that is a true vacation."
Here, here.
That next Sunday, a female parishioner at the 8:15 service said to me:
When I moved to Alaska from Chicago, I went back every Christmas to see my family. Then one winter, I went to Hawaii. I said to myself, "Now that is a true vacation."
Here, here.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Can I hear a testimony?
The main event of Spring Conference is the singing. I was a bit confused at the progresssion of the evening worship service. There's no bulletin, no order of worship.
"So what do we do?" I asked someone.
"We just sing until we're finished," that person replied.
Oh.
There is some structure, of course. An elder leads the service and announces requested congregational songs and honors requests for small groups and solos. (People can make requests on slips of paper and bring them up to the leader). Each congregation also sings a few songs in a rotation. Toward the middle of the event, there is an offering, passing of the peace, prayer and a message by one of the Seward Peninsula pastors.
There's also time for testimony, which is just what you are thinking. People get up and tell a story about God in their lives or what God has done. It sounds a litte bit come-to-Jesus but it's actually part of their tradition and quite beautiful and moving. I feel blessed to just be sitting there listening.
Last night, one woman sang a song she wrote about her struggles with children and family and keeping on the right path. Another woman told of her grief over losing a good friend/cousin in a nearby village. Though more than a year has passed, she said she hasn't been able to visit the village yet for sadness over her friend.
Others give short testimonies in requests for songs to honor someone who has died. In this way, the elders are ever before them. Think what this does for grieving when church is a safe place to remember those who have died and honor them with song or story. Oh that we could be open to sharing our griefs in this way.
Pastor Rob Wentzein (sorry for the likely misspelling) from Shishmaref gave a message last night that made that point: The church should be a place for safe sharing of griefs, sorrows, pains. Not the I-hate-that-hymn-and-the-new-church-carpet-is-ugly kind of lament but the real stories of our grief and saddness. We don't come to church and pretend that we're perfect. That's called the rest of the world. The church is a place set apart, for a people set apart.
We follow a wounded savior, a slaughtered lamb, a God who came to us as human. Could we be as open with our wounds? Just maybe, our honesty might open another person to sharing. We might be liberated to truly BE the people of God.
So. Can I hear a testimony?
"So what do we do?" I asked someone.
"We just sing until we're finished," that person replied.
Oh.
There is some structure, of course. An elder leads the service and announces requested congregational songs and honors requests for small groups and solos. (People can make requests on slips of paper and bring them up to the leader). Each congregation also sings a few songs in a rotation. Toward the middle of the event, there is an offering, passing of the peace, prayer and a message by one of the Seward Peninsula pastors.
There's also time for testimony, which is just what you are thinking. People get up and tell a story about God in their lives or what God has done. It sounds a litte bit come-to-Jesus but it's actually part of their tradition and quite beautiful and moving. I feel blessed to just be sitting there listening.
Last night, one woman sang a song she wrote about her struggles with children and family and keeping on the right path. Another woman told of her grief over losing a good friend/cousin in a nearby village. Though more than a year has passed, she said she hasn't been able to visit the village yet for sadness over her friend.
Others give short testimonies in requests for songs to honor someone who has died. In this way, the elders are ever before them. Think what this does for grieving when church is a safe place to remember those who have died and honor them with song or story. Oh that we could be open to sharing our griefs in this way.
Pastor Rob Wentzein (sorry for the likely misspelling) from Shishmaref gave a message last night that made that point: The church should be a place for safe sharing of griefs, sorrows, pains. Not the I-hate-that-hymn-and-the-new-church-carpet-is-ugly kind of lament but the real stories of our grief and saddness. We don't come to church and pretend that we're perfect. That's called the rest of the world. The church is a place set apart, for a people set apart.
We follow a wounded savior, a slaughtered lamb, a God who came to us as human. Could we be as open with our wounds? Just maybe, our honesty might open another person to sharing. We might be liberated to truly BE the people of God.
So. Can I hear a testimony?
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Revelation and thanking God ahead of time
My purpose for attending Spring Conference this year is partly just to experience the event. It's partly to reconnect with folks from Brevig and brainstorm ideas for VBS this year (July 12-19- wanna join our team?)
But since folks heard I was coming up anyway, someone asked me to lead a Bible study on the theme verse, Revelation 21:4a. So I'm leading a study of a controversial book to people from a different culture? Yikes. I was a bit intimidated.
I wondered if 1 or 2 people would show up. I had at least 15 and 5 kids who wandered about or napped.
After a general outline of the book and its themes (Revelation gives comfort to those suffering, God wants to save the whole world not destroy it and in the end, God wins) we had some time for sharing and storytelling. I was delighted when people jumped in and started talking.
One of the most striking comments was from a mother of two, member of the Nome congregation who had traveled in Wales. We were discussing how one finds hope in suffering, as the book of Revelation offers. She noted that Wales was an extremely harsh climate: remote, within view of Russia's seas, far from other villages, bombarded with windy blizzards in winter and blowing sands in summers and also no plumbing or running water. How did one stay hopeful in this place?
Flowing out of the mountain near the village is a stream. The water flows constantly, cold, fresh, clean and delicous. No matter how tough the life became, the stream was always there, a flowing water of life, offering dependable relief from thirst and soothing scenery in its flow. This was God's grace to her.
I was moved by the steadfast, courageous ways people come to live and stay in these harsh climates. When it came time for prayer, I allowed people to add their own prayers. They prayed for loved ones and for save travel during this storm.
One prayer stuck out. A woman prayed, "God, we thank you ahead of time" for all the ways God would continue to be faithful and answer prayer. She repeated this phrase like a litany, always thanking God ahead of time, trusting God would be faithful. What beauty! What hope! What optomism, despite living in a harsh, unyielding land. She trusted that God would indeed finish what God had started.
God, today I thank you, ahead of time.
But since folks heard I was coming up anyway, someone asked me to lead a Bible study on the theme verse, Revelation 21:4a. So I'm leading a study of a controversial book to people from a different culture? Yikes. I was a bit intimidated.
I wondered if 1 or 2 people would show up. I had at least 15 and 5 kids who wandered about or napped.
After a general outline of the book and its themes (Revelation gives comfort to those suffering, God wants to save the whole world not destroy it and in the end, God wins) we had some time for sharing and storytelling. I was delighted when people jumped in and started talking.
One of the most striking comments was from a mother of two, member of the Nome congregation who had traveled in Wales. We were discussing how one finds hope in suffering, as the book of Revelation offers. She noted that Wales was an extremely harsh climate: remote, within view of Russia's seas, far from other villages, bombarded with windy blizzards in winter and blowing sands in summers and also no plumbing or running water. How did one stay hopeful in this place?
Flowing out of the mountain near the village is a stream. The water flows constantly, cold, fresh, clean and delicous. No matter how tough the life became, the stream was always there, a flowing water of life, offering dependable relief from thirst and soothing scenery in its flow. This was God's grace to her.
I was moved by the steadfast, courageous ways people come to live and stay in these harsh climates. When it came time for prayer, I allowed people to add their own prayers. They prayed for loved ones and for save travel during this storm.
One prayer stuck out. A woman prayed, "God, we thank you ahead of time" for all the ways God would continue to be faithful and answer prayer. She repeated this phrase like a litany, always thanking God ahead of time, trusting God would be faithful. What beauty! What hope! What optomism, despite living in a harsh, unyielding land. She trusted that God would indeed finish what God had started.
God, today I thank you, ahead of time.
I love Nome in the Springtime
Well, there's no place like Nome in the Spring. I'm here April 2-5 for the semi-annual Spring Conference of the Lutherans on the Seward Peninsula. Basically, it's more of a song-fest than a conference. Every night, the singing and testimonies begin around 7 and go as long as we can take it. Last night, it went until 11 pm. It's supposed to get later and later as the days go by.
April in Nome doesn't look like April in Anchorage. There's quite a bit of snow still here, some drifts more than half-way up the houses. I walked by a church this morning (Covenant?) where I could barely read the sign on the building for the snow.
There was a such a blizzard this morning that no flights could land. The temp is around 25; not cold until the winds start howling. I commented that it was pretty cold and Judy Littau (wife of Pastor Matt of Our Savior's Lutheran here) said that was nothing compared to her last home in Wales (out on the extreme west of Alaska). Winds there would gust to 80 miles per hour. So this is the Seward Peninsula tropics :)
I'm continually overwhelmed by hospitality when I visit the Seward Peninsula. I spent a little time this morning at the Nome Rec center, then planned to walk the 5-6 blocks in the wind and snow. I had gone two blocks when a rusty white pickup stopped to give me a ride. It was the staff person at the rec center; he said he couldn't let me walk in that weather.
At the church, there's a warm feeling of fellowship as people from the villages greet each other, friends from Brevig Mission, Wales, Teller and Anchorage's Alaska Native church. There's plenty of good food, Lutheran coffee and conversation.
Stay tuned for more!
April in Nome doesn't look like April in Anchorage. There's quite a bit of snow still here, some drifts more than half-way up the houses. I walked by a church this morning (Covenant?) where I could barely read the sign on the building for the snow.
There was a such a blizzard this morning that no flights could land. The temp is around 25; not cold until the winds start howling. I commented that it was pretty cold and Judy Littau (wife of Pastor Matt of Our Savior's Lutheran here) said that was nothing compared to her last home in Wales (out on the extreme west of Alaska). Winds there would gust to 80 miles per hour. So this is the Seward Peninsula tropics :)
I'm continually overwhelmed by hospitality when I visit the Seward Peninsula. I spent a little time this morning at the Nome Rec center, then planned to walk the 5-6 blocks in the wind and snow. I had gone two blocks when a rusty white pickup stopped to give me a ride. It was the staff person at the rec center; he said he couldn't let me walk in that weather.
At the church, there's a warm feeling of fellowship as people from the villages greet each other, friends from Brevig Mission, Wales, Teller and Anchorage's Alaska Native church. There's plenty of good food, Lutheran coffee and conversation.
Stay tuned for more!
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