Future Jessica

It’s 8:15pm as I sit to write this. I’m tired after a long day of mostly sucky activities. But I just spent 30 minutes cleaning the kitchen so it would be orderly in the morning for Future Jessica.

I don’t consider cleaning the kitchen “my job.” Or anyone’s job, really. The person who is most disgusted by the kitchen is usually the one who cleans it, and that is often not me. I have a pretty high tolerance for sinks full of dishes and general disarray. Messiness is something I can easily overlook.

But most of my sucky activities are going to continue tomorrow, and I thought that a tidy kitchen might be a nice thing to come down to when I start my day. So I rallied, cleaned the kitchen, and now feel like I have at least one thing to look forward to tomorrow.

When I come downstairs to my clean kitchen, I know I’m going to appreciate the effort I put in tonight. My problems are not going to be gone. My kitchen is going to get untidy again, starting very early. In fact, by 10 a.m., it’s likely going to look exactly as it did a half hour ago. That makes it seem a little like it wasn’t worth doing. But I know from past experience that it was. I know from past experience that when I come downstairs and see an empty clean sink, a freshly scrubbed counter and a dishwasher full of clean dishes, it’s going to make me happy. Actually, very happy.

I spend easily half my day doing things for Future Jessica. I rarely want to exercise. I meditate daily, and I never want to do that. Whatever work I have to do, I’d usually rather be doing something else. I don’t want to clean out my coat closet. I don’t want to drive to Marshall’s to return that sports bra. I don’t want to sit in a salon for 90 minutes with poison-smelling hair dye singeing my scalp. I want it all done, I just don’t want to do it.

But I say to myself, "This isn't for you (I know what you really want is to just kick back and chill) -- this is to make Future Jessica feel good."


After a day like today, what I’d typically want to do is eat a plate of nachos that’s as big as my torso and then belch my way up to bed.

But I’ve become really enamored of how delighted Future Jessica can be when I offer these small gestures – knowing that tomorrow (next week, in a month, after the Challenge) she will really appreciate the relatively small sacrifices I made on her behalf. It makes it easier to do it over and over again.

As most people, I’ve spent much of my life doing drudge-y things that were decidedly not fabulous. I’m not sure why, but declaring my intentions to make life a little better for Future Jessica makes those choices much, much easier.

Maybe for you, too?

My Big, Fat Whole Life Challenge Blog Post

Comfort and Hunger (WLC)

My comfort zone is frighteningly small. Sometimes I imagine an actual zoning board reviewing my parcel and I can see them shaking their heads that anyone would want to inhabit such a miniscule area. If my comfort zone were an actual place, it would be a sliver of land with no bugs, no extreme temperatures, and little wind. Only two or three people would be allowed there at a time and they’d need to be extremely nice people – well-meaning, with no hidden agendas.

Like many people, I do not really like stepping out of my comfort zone. This is not something I’m proud of, it’s just a simple fact. And that was probably my biggest concern when I first did the Whole Life Challenge in January 2014.

I have a very low tolerance for discomfort of any kind and when that first challenge started, the thing that soothed me most reliably was chocolate. I was completely freaked out at the idea of giving up chocolate…I didn’t think I could go one single day. I prepared in a way that might horrify many: I bought some very good chocolate and put it in the cupboard so it would be there at a moment’s notice, in case something rocked my small world and I needed to calm myself immediately. People with teeny weeny comfort zones need their security blankets very close by at all times.

Some may consider sugar addiction laughable, but The New York Times came out with an article over the past year that basically said sugar was as, if not more, addictive than heroin – partly because it acts on so very many pleasure centers in our brains. So whether I write about chocolate, or wine, or bagels or the Zappos box that’s sitting in my foyer, I’m writing about the same thing: that "thing" each of us turns to when we think, “Good God, am I actually going to have to endure an unpleasant feeling?”

Chocolate soothes me, and it’s not just in my mind. I eat chocolate and I can literally feel my vital signs change. So a big part of this challenge, early on, became exploring what it feels like to be uncomfortable for a little while and not grab onto the first thing that numbs me. Sitting with boredom, frustration, fury, sadness, fear, anxiety – you name it, I’ve sat with it. And, I’m not going to lie – it’s not ever pleasant.

But the other secret I’ve discovered is that it doesn’t usually last very long. The truth is, feelings pass. And they’re going to eventually pass whether you eat a Snickers bar or not.

We are going to have some very shitty days during this 8-week challenge – because that’s life…sometimes things just suck for a bit. One thing we can do is see what happens – just once – when we sit with the suckiness, rather than mollify ourselves with food.

This suggestion I'm offering is one I continue to struggle with. When things get too unpleasant, I still run for food – even though it’s now compliant food – and even though I don’t hate myself for mainlining chocolate, I’m not crazy about the fact that I’m still fundamentally unwilling to spend much time noticing what the unpleasantness is full of – what it really feels like – and trying instead  to figure out what I really need or want in that moment. I believe that most of the time what I'm really hungry for is not chocolate. And when I say "hungry" here, I don't mean the sensation in my stomach. I mean the craving in my heart.

Every time we choose to observe rather than react – to just notice what’s going on rather than reaching for that “thing” we always reach for to calm ourselves – we increase our capacity (even if it’s only a smidgeon) to do it again. And that makes our comfort zone the littlest bit bigger. Soon, our “thing” we’ve forever grabbed at doesn't seem necessary in quite the same way anymore.

Every single person who talks to me about this challenge tells me what she is afraid she can't live without. We are all in exactly the same boat; our cravings are often not about our "thing"at all.

It amazes me to this day that the chocolate I bought exactly a year ago, “just in case,” has remained on the shelf, untouched. I look at it every day. Many days I still want it. But it no longer owns me.

My Big Fat Whole Life Challenge Blog Post

No Wine. No Whine. (WLC)

The Whole Life Challenge begins again January 17th and there have been several changes in the nutrition guidelines – the most controversial, it seems, is that wine has gone back to one glass per week rather than one glass per day.

I know I am wholly unqualified to write about wine consumption, as I rarely ever consume it, but I just gave up coffee a week ago so I feel like that entitles me to something.

I gave up coffee once before, in the winter of 1993, I think. I’d been seeing a chiropractor (professionally, not romantically) who said he thought coffee might be a contributor to my chronic back trouble. I drank at least four cups a day at that time, and I loved it.

I still love coffee. I’m sure I love it as much as you love your wine.

Detoxing from coffee in 1993 was horrible. Besides my grief from giving up something I loved, I fell asleep at my desk at 3 p.m. every day for a long time. Months. Then, eventually, my body relearned how to keep itself awake through an afternoon of work and I was back to my old, cheery self.

I started drinking coffee again only a few months ago and was plunged right back into that old love affair. It tasted great. I got more done. It made me happy. Every night during those months, I would go to sleep and think: Only a few more hours until I can drink coffee again!

But I gave it up 12 days ago because I got sick for a few days before New Year’s Eve, lost my taste for it, and then came to the terribly sad conclusion that it’s really not good for me. Caffeine and I do not make good bedfellows. Caffeine makes me anxious. Even when I sleep. I can feel the muscles in my face pulled taught through the night.

I’m not saying coffee is bad. In fact, I think it’s common knowledge that it has many benefits. Just as wine does. But I’m pretty sure wine is considered a “food that causes inflammation.” And the Whole Life Challenge eating guidelines are about eliminating or greatly reducing those foods. 

I’m not going to tell you that you should or shouldn’t have wine, or that you do or don’t deserve it. (Of course you do!) I’m going to say this: All the stuff in my life that I thought would be a deal-breaker to give up was really not as hard as I thought it would be. No one is saying: No Wine Forever. They’re saying: Move out of your comfort zone (even if it’s only a few inches) and see how it feels for you.

Is my life so unfun that having a half a cup of buttered coffee every day is my main highlight? Sadly, yes. But the truth is, after a few days worth of headaches, it really wasn’t anywhere near as dreadful as I thought it would be.

If you’re doing the Whole Life Challenge and you’re trying to pick a level, I offer this:
If you’re a reasonably healthy eater and you think you’d benefit from the middle level (Lifestyle), play at that level, and if you want more wine than once per week, have it. Take off the points and enjoy it. What this will do is force you to make your wine-drinking decision anew every day. You will choose to drink wine because of conscious desire rather than habit. That alone will make your wine-drinking experience lovelier. Some days you may choose to forgo and notice it’s not all that bad. Or that it’s awful, and you’ll look to discover why. Those are all good scenarios. No one cares about your score. The Whole Life Challenge is hard. We are pushed to inspect all the things we do mindlessly and decide if they serve us. If you’re worried about having to give up wine, then, in my opinion, this is exactly the level you should be playing at.

And no whining.

(My Big Fat Whole Life Challenge Blog Post #1)

Unexpected Gift

Once Less Talk, More Therapy had been up for a day, I posted on Facebook that “the most amazing thing is that my piece is the number one Most Emailed Article on the New York Times right now.”  I went on to say that the second most amazing thing was that it did not land on the list of 10 Most Recommended for Me articles. I said that to be clever, but it was a lie. The second most amazing thing was how I reacted to the readers’ comments.

I am a person who can easily get sucked into online conversations, either as a participant or a voyeur. I don’t even want to count how many hours of my life I’ve spent reading other people’s opinions about things. I buy shoes and books based on online reviews and many of my political views are shaped by gorging on thread wars.

When that essay went live, I vowed I’d not read the comments – a promise I did not entirely keep. Early on the allure was too great and I just wanted to sneak a little peek. Within hours, a commenter chalked the entire essay up to my being psychologically vulnerable, the therapy Ann E. practices being nonsense, and the article being “witless.” And then 189 people give that comment a Thumbs Up.

Oddly, miraculously and inexplicably – I didn’t care.

This reaction shocked me. Friends texted and emailed their support, reassuring me that in spite of some naysayers, most of the feedback was very positive. At another moment in my life I’d have  hung onto those emails like a life raft. But on this day, I didn’t need the buoying. Uncharacteristically, I read that comment and felt it had nothing whatsoever to do with me, a reaction I’ve never had toward any personal feedback about anything, ever.

For me, this was a gift that felt even bigger than the long-sought after, much coveted gold ring of Times publication. To hear criticism and not become attached. To know someone thinks I’m witless and not take it personally. I’m still stunned that’s even possible.

I did end up skimming some of the comments (there are over 400!) and there were many others that were negative. My favorite was from a woman in Oklahoma who said what I really needed was to get some friends, exercise three times a week and talk more often to my mother, which, except for the mother part, is not really bad advice at all.

Reading the negative comments was actually good for me. It makes me want to try and be less judge-y in the world. It reminds me that I don’t have the slightest idea what someone in pain actually needs. It shows me how much of what comes out of our mouths is almost entirely about us and very little about the other person – and how hard it is to move beyond the lens we view the world through. In reading comments, I expected to feel attacked or misunderstood, two places I go without much provocation at all. And instead, I ended up feeling somehow better.

A Little More on Source Point Therapy

This was posted as a comment, but I thought I should repost it as a post in case anyone finds it helpful. Thanks, Jason!

HI Folks,  I was happy to see this piece come out. The practitioner in this article,  Ann E and I have been friends and study partners for the past 8 years. Since she wishes to remain anonymous, I am chiming in here. We met in a mentorship with a brilliant  Structural Integrator/Rolfer named Liz Gaggini. About 4 years ago, Liz understood our inclination and sent Ann E and I to Study SourcePoint Therapy® with Bob Schrei and his wife, and co-creator of the work Donna Thomson.

Rolfing Structural Integration® and SourcePoint Therapy® are two distinct but correlative modalities. Both are very elegant and efficient platforms for therapeutic intervention. As Rolfers, many of us work with bones, joints, muscle tissue, organs, arteries, veins and nerves in order to resolve chronic strain patterns in the body and in orientation. The goal is to bring about a condition of ease and balance in the body with a corresponding effect on the mind. On the subject of SourcePoint Therapy, here's an excerpt from a piece of writing I did for the coordination of workshops in NYC last year:

I have not encountered a platform that for me works more efficiently to affect appropriate change in the tissue, and bring order to the body.  Whether used as a platform for manual therapy or by itself, SPT is a very precise and powerful modality within which to address pattern in the body and in perception. Having cultivated a relationship with the contents of SPT has allowed me to attract and have consistent success with clients who present very complex structural, functional, emotional/perceptual patterns.

The basic principle of SourcePoint Therapy, simply put, is that there is an energetic blueprint of health that gives rise to, maintains and repairs the human body. Bob describes it in this way: "Unlike other forms of energy work, SourcePoint utilizes a wide variety of touch from deep penetrating touch to gentle touch. SourcePoint does not make a distinction between the body and the energy field. The body is the field, the field is the body. Working deeply in the body is as much energy work as a light touch. The inquiry is what kind of appropriate touch is needed for this person at this time to bring the information of health to the body. This is different for each person at different times. The focus is not on a particular style of touch but on whatever is needed to help connect the client to their own ultimate resource, the information, energy, and light of the blueprint of health for the human body/mind/spirit."

I would be happy to speak by email with anyone here who is curious about this work. I have also listed a few relevant URL’s.

Thanks,
Jason
jason.defilippis@gmail.com

http://cityrolfing.com/
http://www.sourcepointtherapy.com/
http://rolf.org/
http://connectivetissue.com

Jason DeFilippis
Certified Advanced Rolfer™
www.cityrolfing.com
jason.defilippis@gmail.com
917.318.0881

More About Ann E.

My piece in the New York Times, Less Talk, More Therapy, has received a lot of attention, and I feel compelled to add and clarify some information.

First, I make the assertion that “being with Ann E. feels a little like being in psychotherapy.” This is due both to the nature of our conversations during sessions and the information she imparts. Our conversations emerge organically; often we talk about our pasts and our relationships. The fact that she’s a wise woman and a good listener make it feel “a little” like therapy. But make no mistake, she is a body worker.

The other “psychotherapy-like” aspect, to me, is that she discusses and demystifies how the body works as an organic entity in a way that I have never experienced through talking to doctors. She has a paradigm for understanding the body that she shares with me, the way my psychotherapists have instructed me about how my mind “works” – triggers, patterns, explanations for reactions. Again, this is her style – the way she does things. Most body workers I’ve been to (which, admittedly, are not vast in numbers) happen to be talkative. But not all of them have reminded me  of being in psychotherapy. This is why I wrote about her for Couch.

I originally had included the type(s) of therapy Ann E. practices in the piece, but the editor and I believed that that information wasn’t germane to the story. Silly us. We had agreed that we didn’t want it to sound like I (or the Times) was somehow endorsing a particular type of therapy. The essay was meant to be a personal story, nothing more.

At the time, I had no idea there were so many people in so much pain.

Ann E. practices a combination of two types of therapy: Structural Integration (she calls it “soft Rolfing”) and Source Point Therapy (which is the technique she uses that engages the body’s energy, the one where her hand remains inches away from the body). Her teacher/mentor is located in New Mexico. Here is a link:

http://www.sourcepointtherapy.com/

I have not spent a lot of time on the site, but I do know there’s a place that invites you to contact them to locate practitioners in your area. Rolfing seems easy enough to find anywhere in the world.

Another thing that was cut from the article that you might find useful is reading Dr. John Sarno’s book The Mindbody Prescription: Healing the Body, Healing the Pain (or really any book by him). This was probably my first introduction to the idea of real physical pain resulting from emotions. I offer this up because many people I know (myself included) have moved through a tremendous amount of longstanding physical pain simply from reading his book. It’s maybe a $20 investment, and fascinating stuff.

I wish I were able to provide contact information for Ann E., but she’s a solo practitioner who works from her house and the sheer volume of phone calls would take her down.

I hope some of this is helpful, and if you ended up here because you’re in pain, I hope that you’re able to find relief in your life. I’m quietly rooting for you.

Less Talk, More Therapy

I just got my first piece in The New York Times!

I'd love for you to read it. If you're inclined to comment, please say something nice!

To see the essay:

Less Talk, More Therapy

(My title was "A Place To Unwind," which they liked, but not enough to use. But I wanted to share that because I think it goes kinda nicely with the piece.)