Morning Reflection: Experience--Human

Experience—Human

What does it mean to be human? After all, we come in all different shapes and sizes, races and creeds. We speak different languages yet we manage to convey the same concepts.

We live in different places on the same planet, yet we are all captive to its gravity. We all laugh, we all cry, we all scream and we all struggle. If there is one constant in the experience of being human, it is simply this…

Equal amounts the same, equal amounts different.

Some of our experiences are shared, such as the joy of winning as a team or the fear of facing a pandemic. Others of our experiences are personal and individual, such as the loss of a spouse, or the destruction of a dream.

Although we may find others who have faced the same, some of our experiences are so personal that they defy communication, and are left solely to the realm of tears.

We are together, yet apart; many, and yet one.

We’re in a time right now where our experiences while human are changing from the recent past that we have enjoyed. In my almost 50 years on the planet I have, on the whole, experienced more good times than bad, more peace than chaos.

While I have had my struggles, they have tended towards more of the personal than the societal, the emotional rather than the environmental.

Overall thus far, despite its difficulties, my experience of being human has been a good one.

Yet the other day, I had a patient who told me that his father was born in 1911. For him, the First World War, the Spanish Flu epidemic, the Great Depression, the Second World War and the Cold War, with its imminent threat of nuclear destruction were the times of his life.

When you add in Vietnam, race riots, social upheaval and the incredible changes that occurred during his life, it becomes apparent that there are those who have gone before that would look upon our experiences of being human at this time as nothing more than a continuation of the way things have always been.

Yet for me, from my admittedly blessed temporal view, things seem distinctly, specifically bad.

And so as I draw these lessons from history, I am mindful that while the world seems very dark right now, in the long-term view of things, this is merely another experience during the process of being human.

That in my despair of how to set things right, I can see that humanity, for all of its drawbacks, has a tendency to find a sense of peace and balance in the midst of the darkest chaos.

That too, is part of our experience of being human.

So today, if you find yourself as worn down, discouraged and despairing as I have been with the events of the past few months, and the past few days, I would offer to you this perspective in the hopes that it might bring you the sense of peace that we are all seeking to find.

That the darkness in the world right now has been here before, and the light that seems missing will find us again. We all play our parts in the creation of that light, and in the banishment of the darkness, and in our time, we will find a way to bring things back into harmony.

For while chaos is truly a part of the experience of being human, so is finding the balance, and setting things aright.

In the end, we will come to see these times as a part of the experience of being human, and having gone through the crucible of chaos, will find in ourselves a greater appreciation for the peace which will inevitably come.

And will call ourselves blessed to have been human.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Not about Your Value, But about Your Experience

Not about Your Value, But about Your Experience.

What is the greatest gift I could ever give you? It wouldn’t be money, because I’ve seen people who have a lot of it and yet are miserable. It wouldn’t necessarily be time, because unless you have things at peace in your soul, time is just an extension of your suffering.

Without a doubt, the greatest gift I could give you while you spend your days in this temporal world would be an understanding of who you already are, and how that equates to the thing you probably spend a lot of time worrying about.

Your worth.

Because we’re conditioned by the society and the cultural patterns in which we grow up to believe that your value, the worth of your soul, is questionable. There are many different thoughts on this, as there are many different beliefs about our universe, and these thoughts are usually based around the idea that your choices determine your value.

And so we wonder, and stress, and suffer.

Unless you were either born incredibly fortunately, or significantly narcissistically, you’ve probably spent a great deal of time worrying about your value, and your place in the world, the universe, the heavens and everything else in between.

Chances are, at some point in your existence, (and possibly even now) you’ve allowed the thoughts of others, based on the choices you’ve made, to determine your sense of worth, and felt that incredible pain that comes from feeling that you are worth nothing, and have no gift of any value to give.

My guess is that you’ve felt that way once or twice in your life. I know I have.

And so as human beings we spend our days wondering if this choice or that choice is the ‘right’ one, whether this outcome or that outcome reflects on us in a way that increases our perceived value, or takes away from it.

I’m guessing you’ve probably wondered what someone else thought about you, and felt the soul crushing despair of believing that someone who’s opinion you value and desire actually thinks you are worth nothing.

And in your sadness, and in your grief, you believed that thought to be true.

If any of this has sounded in the least bit familiar, I’d like to offer you a different way of thinking to try out. Much like the test drive of a car, you can return it if you’d like to, but I’d really like to see if you could spend a few minutes today, when faced with a choice, deciding not about whether a choice or an action determines your value, but how well it lines up with your principles.

Because interestingly, you’ll find that if you make your choices based in principle, rather than in personal value, many of your doubts, fears and insecurities will just melt away.

And you’ll understand that your value is not about the choices that you make, but about your ability to chose.

Because life, in itself, is the greatest value of all.

If you can question, even for just a few minutes, that this life might not be about your value but about your chance to experience, you’ll come to see that you don’t have to live in a way that creates stress and suffering in your life, or in the lives of those around you.

Once you stand firm in the knowledge that your value is in your existence, not in your strengths and weaknesses, you’ll be able to cast off the judgments and pressures that you subject yourself to every single day of your life.

Once you see that you ARE more valuable that you can ever imagine, more incredible than you’ve been led to believe, the rest just becomes about living for kindness, for peace, for joy, for happiness and for wonder.

Once you know your own worth is independent of your circumstances and choices, then you can begin to live from a deep well of peace within your soul.

And in my experience, people coming from that place are the ones who share peace and love most wonderfully.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Judgment of Grief

The Judgment of Grief.

In the last 36 hours, I’ve been privileged and humbled to listen to two people share their grief with me. Although their situations are very different, both in the type of loss and in the timeline in which it occurred, they are both hurting, and both trying to make sense of the pain and longing that they feel.

Unfortunately, there is at least one other similarity between them.

They are both judging themselves for the way that they are responding to those emotions.

Neither of them are being kind to themselves, and interestingly, if they were to meet and understand each other’s stories, the chances are that they would extend more sympathy and caring to each other then they would to themselves. Their reasons would be different, but their behaviors would essentially result in the same outcome.

Denying themselves the space that they need to grieve.

Which is something we all have to do, yet no one ever teaches us how. Some find their way through the process on their own, while some find that talking to a trained professional helps to find a way to process the sadness, the loss and the heartache that they feel.

There’s no right way and no wrong way to grieve, as long as the process gets you to the point where you need to be, of peace, of acceptance and of calm.

But many people never find their way to that place.

Because for some reason, sometimes we see our grief as a weakness, or a sign that we aren’t faithful enough, or some symbolism from the universe that we are too focused on ourselves, and not enough on others.

We hold ourselves back from experiencing the fullness of what we feel, and instead try to force our way into feeling differently, not realizing that grief unexpressed comes out as anger, as sadness and even as guilt.

Robbing the person of the chance for peace.

Which is so sad, because if there is one thing that unites us as human beings, it is the feeling of loss that we all experience at some time in our life.

Nothing is more human, nothing is more real, and yet there are those who will hold back their feelings, out of a belief that in some way their grief is not real, or not enough.

And they beat themselves up over the way that they feel.

My invitation to you today is to search deep in your soul, and see if you can find within you the kindness that you would normally give to others, and instead give it to yourself. Chances are there’s something that you haven’t let yourself fully feel yet.

From the loss of a friend, a partner, a situation, a possession, a pet, an opportunity or a dream, there’s probably something that you haven’t fully felt your way through, and it’s poisoning your future from deep in your past.

And today, I would ask you to find a space for yourself to feel, and to grieve.

Not that you need it, but you have my permission.

Sometimes, that’s all we’re really waiting for, and if that’s you, then this is me, saying it’s ok to feel, to grieve and to heal.

You deserve nothing less, and I want the very best for you.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Difference Between Knowing and Feeling

The Difference Between Knowing and Feeling.

I could see the tears in her eyes as she fought not to let them flow. Years upon years of questions had brought her to this point; years upon years of wondering, hurting, doubting and longing.

Afraid for so long to face the reality of the situation, she had done her subconscious best to run from this moment, trying to silence the uncertainty that had burdened her soul for longer than she could remember.

We humans flourish when we have a good foundation to work from, but we flounder when we are on uncertain ground.

“It’s like I know that he loves me” she said, her voice breaking as she forced the words out of her soul, ‘but I just don’t feel it, deep down where it matters. I think to him I’m always just someone who is going to be a disappointment, like I’m never going to be good enough for him”.

With that admission, the walls broke, and she wept the tears that had been slowly forming for many, many years.

I watched her weep for a long while, knowing that some wounds have to be allowed to run until they dry. This one took its own time.

Her father, you see, is not a bad man, just one who struggles with his own issues. Never one to show a great deal of positive emotion, never one to express a great deal of sympathy or pity.

He goes through the world with his own agenda, and his own baggage. It’s made it hard for him to learn how to love in the absence of judgment, to care in the absence of control.

And the woman sitting across from me was his unintended victim, the collateral damage of his fate.

I tried to help my friend see that in his own way, he was trying to express to her love as he knew it, although sometimes I doubted whether he had ever felt truly loved, or enough, as himself.

I tried to help her interpret his actions as caring when they were cold, and to see his lack of closeness as a symptom, rather than a sanction.

But it felt like I was trying to hold back the tide.

Because there were so many years where her father had failed to recognize her individual humanity, her right to exist in a way that was authentic to her.

So many times when he had failed to ask how she was doing when he wanted something, failed to tell her that he loved her when she told him that she did. A life time of unnecessary reticence on the part of him had led to a terrible hole in the heart of her.

Although she ‘knew’ that he loved her, she had never really felt loved for who she was, but judged against who he needed her to be.

And the pain of it was tearing her apart. Because ‘knowing’ requires thinking, and thinking is subject to a thousand doubts and questions. When you ‘feel’ something you don’t have those questions, it simply is a thing that is.

A foundation that allows you to move forward in the world with certainty and comfort, because the love that sustains you will always be there for you, beyond doubt, and beyond question.

But if you don’t ‘feel’ it, you’ll doubt it until you die.

It’s been many years since my friend and I sat that day, as she opened her soul to me. I don’t know if the words that I spoke helped her, but I know to this day that she struggles.

Her father, although aging, is still alive, and to this day, she is still unsure of how he feels about her. They are both victims, they are both hurting.

And sometimes, there’s precious little you can do except be there for those who are still struggling to feel.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Foolish are Certain, While the Wise Have Doubts

The Foolish are Certain, While the Wise Have Doubts.

It’s not my quote, it actually belongs to a man who died before I was even born, although for a few days our hearts were beating on the same planet.

He’s someone who I have come to respect greatly, even though our opinions would probably vary, and doubtless if we were able to talk now, we’d stay up way too late night after night trying to solve the problems of the universe.

Because that’s how we find peace – through listening, through understanding, and through talking.

And we could use a lot of that right now in this country, because the listening has turned into ignoring, the understanding has mutated into hating, and the talking has changed into shouting.

As this virus burns its way through our communities, our families and our lives, it’s also burning through our kindness, our patience, our compassion and our connections.

So while we will hopefully survive the madness, it may we be a very different world that we emerge into.

A world full of people who are certain without education, and preaching without proof. People who use every event as a means to further their ambitions; without reference to truth, to proof or even to the benefit of the doubt.

Every number is a cudgel; every study is a sword. Without reference to anything other than their own egos, people have abandoned the pursuit of peace in favor of the accumulation of acrimony.

Although the virus sees us a one race of hosts, we seem destined to see ourselves as many different types of people.

There are those with whom we agree, and those with whom we argue. Those who support our side, and those who would sow division. Those who we believe without question, and those who will never be believed, despite answering a million questions.

In a time where we need to come together and find our way out of the darkness, we seem determined to shine our light directly in the eyes of anyone with whom we disagree.

And everyone who is shouting is so certain that they are right.

When in reality, and in the annals of history, we’re probably getting a lot of stuff wrong. The nature of time, and especially in circumstances like these, is that we’re always struggling to find answers in the midst of chaos, and desperate to make sense of that which often makes no sense at all.

Anyone who claims a certainty of truth is probably ignoring something, or making up something else.

In the absence of cold hard facts, we need to be able to rely on the good intentions of others.

Which also seems to be something that we’re running out of. From politicians to preachers, from Doctors to demagogues, everyone seems to be sharing the information that bolsters their opinion, and dismissing anything that conflicts with their beliefs. The level of certainty with which they shout would be comical, if it wasn’t for the fact that it is terrible.

Because in times like these, only the foolish are certain.

While the wise have many, many doubts.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Painful Cost of Wisdom

The Painful Cost of Wisdom

When I was a young child, I was impressed by people who could ‘keep their head when all around them were losing theirs’. Likewise, I found myself fascinated by people who always seemed to be one step ahead of the situation, and who could see ‘the next move, the next concept’.

As a kid who often felt surrounded by chaos, and who most of the time was just trying to survive, there was something magical about someone who seemed to be at the next level of control and understanding.

And I wanted to be just like them.

Maybe it was the lack of strong and calm role models in my life, or maybe it was just that they seemed to offer a quality of life that was outside of my experience. Whichever it was, I wanted so badly to be like them that I would try to learn more about them, try to be like them.

During times of difficulty and stress (which were plentiful growing up) my intention would be to remain cool, calm and controlled, knowing the next play in the game, being the one who could keep it together and make the right moves.

And as I got older, I realized how they came to be that way.

Because those who are cool under fire and collected in the moment, are usually that way because they have been in dangerous and difficult moments. When I would go deeper into the lives of those whom I admired, I found a litany of struggle and hardship, of chaos and regret.

Unless you are one of those preternaturally calm people, the only way to get really good at staying calm during the chaos is to have been in a lot of situations where panic and lack of knowledge were not an option.

Which usually means something bad was going on, and they had to figure out how to respond.

Which kind of describes where we are right now. For many of us, we’re in a situation that we have never faced before, and it’s definitely one where others are ‘losing their heads’. Yet there is wisdom here to be gathered, if we are calm enough to seek it, and recognize it when it becomes apparent.

It’s the wisdom of understanding the beauty of everyday life.

All of us are guilty of having taken the many wondrous blessings of our former life for granted. Sitting in a restaurant or coffee shop with friends, hugging a loved one whom you haven’t seen in a while, or simply enjoying a chance to relax out of doors, watching the world pass by from a mountain or an ocean.

There’s so many things that we have taken as a normal part of life, and failed to realize how blessed we were in that moment.

And now we have a choice as we go forward in our lives.

For some, this ‘return to the new normal’ will be nothing more than a return to that which they believe is their right, their promised allowance from the a universe which owes them so much, and for a while has taken away what is theirs.

Pity be to those who will not see the opportunity to lose their entitlement, and instead take upon them the wisdom of understanding and of gratitude.

For gratitude drives out a multitude of sorrows, as we focus on the bounty of which we partake, expecting nothing as a right, and feeling deep within our souls a thankfulness for each new day, each welcome experience, each blessed breath and moment to be.

Wisdom is often gained under hardship, but it can light the way before us.

If only we will learn the lessons, and let them take sway in our hearts.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrmusings

Morning Reflection: Breaking Point

Breaking Point.

I don’t know if you’ve dared to venture out onto the internet in the last few days, but if you have, I’m guessing you’ve noticed it too.

Social media has always had the ability to twist the truth and inflame the senses, but as we are all coming to terms with terrifying reality of ‘the new normal’, the level of toxicity and outright hostility is growing to levels we haven’t seen before.

And there doesn’t seem to be a way of stopping it.

I’ve tried, believe me. In two specific threads last week, I tried to mitigate the anger and vehement nature of the people involved in the comments.

Trying to find a pathway of peace, I pointed out that there were different ways to interpret what they had seen, and different avenues for moving forward in the problems that we all faced.

I might as well have been standing on the beach, screaming at the tide to stay out.

Believe me, I get that we are all on edge right now. I try to never react unkindly to anything, and always respond in a peaceful and peace promoting way, and right now that is taking so much more emotional energy than it ever has before, which is a really bad things because I feel like I have less and less of that energy every day.

Which I think is true for all of us.

Because the uncertainty, the fear, the restrictions and the reality are piling up on us, and the usual avenues for blowing off steam are not necessarily available to us right now.

For me, it means I can’t drive up to the mountains, and the flight to the coast that we had planned for around now has been put on hold. I’m going stir crazy being stuck in a house with people, and a dog, that I love, and I’m one of the lucky ones who actually gets to go to work because I’m apparently essential.

I think we’re all just trying to hold on, and not lose our minds.

Which also means that now, more than ever before, we need to strive to find peace inside of ourselves when we can’t seek it in any other way. Maybe for you that’s meditation, or prayer, or physical exercise or reading.

Maybe losing your mind in an epic binge-watch of some new series on Netflix is what does it for you. Whatever it is, you probably need to do more of it right now, just so that you can hold on to whatever shred of sanity you happen to have left.

Whatever it takes so that you can treat yourself and those around you with kindness, do that thing.

My wife has a phrase that she repeats often in her own writing. “Be kind, do good. Love is a verb”. I think now, more than ever, we need to be being kind, and doing good.

It won’t necessarily be fun, and it won’t necessarily be easy, but it is so very important right now. Surviving this pandemic is hard enough for all of us together, and it will be impossible if we try to do it apart.

So I would ask you today, to try to be patient with those who annoy you, and with those with whom you disagree. The more we say that we’re sorry, the better chance we have of coming out of this with our relationships and our sanity intact.

There are many casualties in a crisis. Sometimes it’s life, sometimes it’s love, and sometimes it’s the very decency that keeps us together as families, as communities and as a nation.

At a time when we could very well break apart, we need to be pulling together even stronger than before, even when it’s hard, even when it hurts.

I know we are all tired, and I know we all have our problems.

But we can’t let ourselves devolve into hatred. That way only leads to suffering.

And there’s too much of that going on already.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Feeling Now

Feeling Now.

As I sit here starting this piece, I’m trying to process many different emotional threads. I have a friend who is in the final stages of a courageous battle with Cancer, and it’s not a matter of if, but when.

I know people from all walks of life who are struggling with the ramifications of this pandemic, and on top of that I am trying to be a husband, a father, a small business owner and a friend.

And it’s kind of easy to get lost in the middle of all of that.

Added to that, I feel the desire to write, so that I might in some small way be of comfort and uplift to those of you who follow this work.

With all of that going on, as well as a never ending tsunami of opinion and data on the internet, I‘ve realized that I’ve been using all of these responsibilities to do something that I know is wrong, but which we all fall into every now and then.

I’ve been suppressing my feelings.

Which is something I pretty much have a black belt in at this point in my life. Despite knowing that the emotions you haven’t processed are anchors upon your future happiness and your soul, I seem determined right now to ‘keep on going’ rather than taking the time to let these feelings flow through me.

I know why I do it, and if I’m paying attention I can even realize when I am doing it.

Although I know I shouldn't.

Because eventually, all the things that we don’t deal with show up in a number of ways. It might be through depression or anxiety, anger or rage. It may show up in a physical manifestation, or it might change the way that you experience meaning through your journey in life. However much you try to ignore them, their effect on you is inevitable.

Until you face them, feel them, and free yourself from them.

As someone whose attachment pattern is very much avoidant, suppressing what I feel was such a part of my childhood, that tendency rears its ugly head every time things get stressful.

I have to make a conscious decision to combat it, and the intensity of that decision is directly connected the painfulness of the emotions that I’m trying to avoid. Whenever I find myself avoiding for too long, I know I’m going to be feeling the effects of those feelings one way or another.

So I might as well get it over with now.

Which sometimes feels a lot like being selfish, or being lazy. If I’m smart, it looks a lot like meditation, or long periods of writing.

Sometimes it comes out in a session with the heavy bag that hangs in the garage, when the gloves are pulled on, and the anger comes out to play a little bit. The noise, the sweat and the impact open channels in my soul that allow me to experience what it is I’m really feeling.

But it doesn’t matter what it looks like, only that it happens.

All of us right now are going through an incredible time of uncertainty, and none of us really understand how or when this is going to end. The pressures we’re feeling create emotions, and if we’re not careful, we’ll smother those emotions in a flurry of calories, mindless browsing or endless binge-watching.

None of which help us actually face what we feel.

So today, I invite you to make time in your life to sit quietly, and feel the emotions that are running through your soul.

I know it might be scary, and it very well might hurt, but until we release and experience those emotions, they’re just going to drag us down, and dampen our future.

When instead you may fly forwards, and free.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Onions Have Layers

Onions Have Layers.

If you’ve ever seen the original Shrek movie, you’ll probably remember the scene where Donkey is trying to understand Shrek’s motives, and can’t see past the simple fact of Shrek being an Ogre.

In his attempt to explain that he’s not just a village-destroying-monster, Shrek attempts to explain to Donkey that Ogres, like onions, have layers.

A fact which bypasses Donkey completely, because he doesn’t have many layers.

I’m been thinking about that recently because human beings, like onions and ogres apparently, have layers. Your own awareness of the different layers of your soul is probably the most valuable piece of knowledge you will ever come to own.

Sometimes we come across those layers as we journey with intention into the deeper parts of ourselves, but usually it’s because life throws us something that peels back the veneer of our supposed ‘normality’ and reveals to us things ‘further in’ that we had no idea where there.

Or behaviors that we thought were firmly in the past.

In this strange time in which we live, where a virus too small to see can bring civilization to a halt, we’re all experiencing pressures and a peeling back of the layers to show what is underneath.

I watched my two sons almost get into an argument last night, which very rarely occurs in our house. I can see how the pressure of confinement is peeling back their layers, as small things that would usually not bother them suddenly annoy them in ways that they did not expect.

But it’s not just restricted to them.

With the pressures of trying to run a small business in this very strange economy, and practice my profession in a way that keeps both my patients and my family safe, I find my own layers coming apart, and have seen in myself some attitudes that I thought I have moved beyond.

In some ways it is disheartening to think that something that I had already taken care of was, in fact, still within me, just awaiting some time and some increased pressure.

Which is essentially what we’re all in – a pressure cooker.

And it would be easier if we knew when the pressure was going to end. Several years ago my wife had to undergo a medical procedure that while only lasting a few seconds, was incredibly painful.

A kind and wonderful nurse counted down for her during the procedure, giving my wife the sense of hope as she realized that this too would pass, and she knew she really had to hold on for a few more seconds.

None of us have that right now. None of us know when this is going to end, or even what that end is going to look like.

So today I would ask you to extend patience and forgiveness to yourself as well as everyone around you. We are all fighting the same battle right now; fear of what we do know, and a greater fear of what we don’t.

Each of us in our own way experiences that terror differently, as we peel back the layers, exposing things which we thought we had dealt with; emotions we thought we had passed.

And it can be really disappointing to realize that we haven’t.

If you find yourself stuck in that frustration, may I offer you the perspective of understanding that this time is actually a powerful opportunity for growth if you can forgive yourself these momentary lapses, and learn from the emotions that you feel.

As I have written before, your reactions to situations are the guideposts to your progression: if only we will learn, if only we will follow.

And sometimes it’s the very reactions that are pulled from you against your will that show you the deeper paths you yet have still to walk.

So treat yourself kindly, and know that all of us in our own way are fighting the same battle. Some days we are winning, some days not so much.

But we are all in this together.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Syllable of Shame

The Syllable of Shame.

The English language is a funny thing. The slightest change, and words mean very different things. ‘Message’ and ‘Massage’ have just one letter different between them, yet they mean profoundly different things.

‘Read’ and ‘Read’ both indicate the presence of the written word, but one is in the present, while the other in the past.

As we’ve often heard, ‘words mean things’, and they can change the entire outlook of your thoughts.

Because without language, we’d have nothing to compose our thoughts with. We’d be stuck in a world of emotions run riot, never being able to process anything from our past. Instinct would rule over intellect, and passion would run roughshod over preparation.

Language is the mechanism that propels us forward into our dreams, or keeps us locked in the pathways of our nightmares.

And the difference can be a subtle as a syllable.

I’m starting to think that the most powerful words in our shared English language are often just one syllable long. Love and Hate, Life and Death. Yet the ones I have been meditating over this week have been a little less momentous, and yet they may be more powerful in their ability to move us or hold us right where we stand.

There’s very little difference between ‘could’ and ‘should’.

And yet there’s all the difference in the world. As someone who struggles with feelings of shame, the word ‘should’ holds such power over me.

If you were to listen to the radio station inside of my head, you’d probably hear a thousand different songs, or feelings, all featuring the same word that pushes me down, and makes me feel less than I wish I could be.

I should be this, I should have done that, I should be different, and maybe less fat.

The second the word ‘should’ shows up in a sentence, there’s an immediate sense of judgment, and rarely is it kind or fair. In a world of infinite possibilities, we seem driven by our common desire to inscribe pathways into the future for ourselves and others around us as we load our future with the judgments of ‘should’.

Until we feel overwhelmed and overloaded, full of a sense of shame for the things we feel we haven’t done.

Yet if we change two letters for one, we change the whole meaning of any sentence that we think. By changing a ‘should’ to a ‘could’, suddenly we are freed from the magnitude of expectation, and instead step into a universe for of choice and possibility.

And we also free ourselves from the judgments of shame.

In the years of working with and helping people, I have found that when you can help someone free themselves from the burdens of expectation and shame, their lives will be changed in some unbelievable ways.

For in removing shame, we substitute hope. In removing expectation, we throw open the doorway to choice. In removing judgment, we instead embrace the realms of possibility.

And when you set someone free, you’ll always find wonder at just how high they soar.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: A Dysfunctional Nation of One

A Dysfunctional Nation of One.

As this virus wreaks havoc across the world, the way we are interacting as human beings is changing. We’ve gone from hugs and kisses to nods and waves.

The very physical contact that enhances our communication has been removed, and in its place is the underlying fear of the close presence of others. We’ve become more insular and less outgoing; more apart and less together.

And we need to alter the way we communicate to make up for it.

We’re seeing an increase in the number of people using video communication to interact, and while that can help, if we’re only saying the same things, hiding away the true and authentic parts of ourselves, then we’re never going to really be able to touch each other in the ways that we need to right now.

Because as our reality shifts and changes like it is right now, all of us are challenged in one way or another.

Which can affect some of us more than others.

Because we, as people, need each other. In order for us to balance psychologically and emotionally, we need both the connections that come from physical presence, and the ones that come from authentic sharing or who we are, and what we are experiencing.

In our associations with others, we find a way to shape our minds, and enlighten our souls.

None of us do well in a vacuum of human connection.

I know that for myself, I rely very heavily on my relationship with my wife, who keeps me both grounded and connected.

If we somehow become emotionally distant from each other, which can happen when we are both dealing with our own stresses and fears, I find myself becoming a very dysfunctional nation of one, where I go inward, and suffer what Holly calls ‘being lost inside myself’.

Alone to fight the battles in which I have so very little perspective.

Because that’s really why we need each other. One of my very favorite phrases in coaching is that ‘you can’t read the label on your own jar’, meaning that you can’t see some of the problems inside of yourself because you’re too close to them, you’re ‘living them’, and that inability to see what is obvious to everyone around you is the most valuable insights you can ever receive.

And you can only get them from other people.

Which is why the very core of our emotional health is dependent upon our ability to find ways to connect authentically, kindly, personally and deeply. Right now, we can’t sit around a fire together, or listen to the waves rolling endlessly into the beach together.

We can’t hike into the mountains, nor go for a walk in the woods. Our usual ways of finding ways to connect are not available to us and we need to look for something that works, something that allows us to find a sense of togetherness even while we stand apart.

None of us is an island. We need each other to find our way out of the darkness.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Questions that Bind Us

The Questions that Bind Us.

I’ve been watching a new show recently, trying to keep my mind occupied and distracted from everything that’s going on right now.

Yet as often happens when we try to run from our fears, we end up running straight into something that makes us confront them and face them, or at least think a whole lot more about what we’re running from.

And I wondered how it is that in my attempt to avoid, I find the same questions in front of me.

Then it struck me, as I sat there binge-watching a show in an admittedly futile attempt to keep my mind off of the pain and sadness that surrounds us right now, that it’s not that the questions are unique to me.

The questions that we are asking are in a way universal to us as humans, as people, as a thinking consciousness that is aware of time and the universe.

These are the questions that drive us, if we dare to ask them.

It’s almost as though the price of being human is to ask the questions, to ponder and to wonder. Sure, some find refuge and comfort in answers that are given by others, and if that’s you, know that I am happy for you, and yet somewhat jealous.

But in the end, there are always going to be more questions than there are answers, and what really matters are the questions we choose to ask, and the direction those questions take us.

And it’s by asking the questions that we make a meaningful impact in the lives of others.

Because meaning is what we’re all searching for. We’re driven by this insatiable need to find a sense of certainty in everything, so that somehow, someway, all the chaos and uncertainty of living in this temporal universe can fit into some nice understandable box.

If we can draw meaning, and find some pathway through our lives that aligns us with some grand purpose, than it speaks to us that our lives have not been in vain, our experiences have not just been random.

Because in finding a meaning, we somehow find a sense of value, a sense of worth.

Which is, in its own way, the ultimate distraction. If we are dependent upon meaning, then we are still locked into a value based paradigm, where we seek some way to enhance our own sense of being more than ‘just human’, more than ‘just alive’. It's as if we needed some additional adornment to the incredible wonder of consciousness, the majesty of awareness, and the nobility of just being alive.

The questions that bind us together, are also the questions that bind us to the limiting pathways in which we walk.

Now I’m not saying that it isn’t good to ask questions, because it is. I’m not even saying that you shouldn’t try to make your kinder, or gentler, because you can if you wish. I’m not saying here that you can’t have a sense of the nature of reality that aligns you with the deity or the concept of your choice. You can absolutely do all of those things.

As long as you realize that your value doesn’t depend on any of those things.

In my life I have asked many questions, and I hope that I will get to ask many more. But I’m trying to ask the questions without needing to take a sense of value from the answers, so that I might filter the results that come back to me without any intervention or shading from my own needs.

Because in the end, the answers that I choose need to be the ones that I believe are correct, in the absence of any personal bias, prejudice or desire.

Only then, will the questions yield answers that will make sense.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Look for the Light

Look for the Light.

In times such as these, it’s all too easy to get caught up in the day to day nightmare that surrounds and threatens to overpower us. Each morning the headlines are full of terror, and each evening the numbers are sad.

We are living in a moment in history, and if an examination of our past teaches us anything, it’s that the loudest moments of history are often filled with horror rather than happiness, despair rather than delight.

Sometimes it feels like the darkness is all that there will ever be.

And while that might feel like the truth right now, I don’t think that’s all that we have to look forward to. I have often found that it helps to have people focus on the simple saying of “I am, I am here, I am now” as a way to keep them focused in the present, so that they may keep their perspective and not get caught up in imagining a future full of fear.

But sometimes, being here and now is the last thing you need to see.

In my meditations over the past week or so, I’ve been trying to focus on a point in the future, and bring that into the present so that I might experience the gratitude and the joy of that day which I hope will be. It’s not too far in the future, and it’s not too far out of the realms of possibility.

And it helps to give me hope, in a time where that emotion seems all too fleeting.

Because sometimes, in the darkest of moments where there seems to be no answers, no peace and no sense of justice in the world, hope is the one thing that we have left to cling to, that one feeling that can take us out of the darkness, and back into a world that beckons us into peace, and laughter, and joy.

Sometimes, and especially when there seems to be no pathway forward, the beacon of hope and a belief in a better day are the very things that allow us to do the one thing that otherwise would have seemed hopeless, that one thing that made all the difference in the world.

In the midst of the darkness night, you can go on if you have hope in a beautiful dawn.

As we enter what is about to be a very dark couple of weeks, when you’re going to hear terrible things, and feel powerful emotions, I would beg of you to try to remain focused on whatever light you can.

Whether it be your faith in deity, or your belief in the goodness of humanity, I would ask you to wrap yourself so tightly in it, and hold on with everything that you have.

Because in the end, there is going to be a light.

And when that light comes, we’ll find anew the simple delights of a meal with friends, a hug and a walk. We’ll see stocked shelves in the markets, and be grateful for that which we once took for granted.

As we emerge from a period of darkness, we’ll once again find ourselves in a world very much the way it was before, yet we will see it as if for the first time, and know that it is good.

So please hold on, because the light is coming.

It’s always darkest just before dawn.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: A Reasonable Madness

A Reasonable Madness.

New Years Eve was only 11 weeks and 2 days ago. A new year stood before us, shining with possibility and grandeur. We expected good times, we expected bad times, but what we expected most was that this year was probably going to be different.

A presidential election was sure to bring contention, and while most of us thought the year might be a turbulent one, many of us had no idea of the chaos and darkness that was coming.

If someone had tried to explain it to you, you would have thought they had gone mad.

Because we’re living in the Twilight Zone right now. Business shut, lives shattered, history being engraved upon our hearts and minds. An enemy too small to see, too quick to contain, and too dangerous to be left unanswered.

In the midst of the suffering and sadness, the true story of our nature was being brought to light.

Because we humans practice a reasonable madness day after day.

There are those who see chaos as a time of enrichment, a way to reap from the labors of others. They hoard and they hurt, choosing to separate themselves from their humanity, and profit from the suffering and sadness of those around them.

Their madness is believing that their actions can be hidden in a day where everything is recorded, and where the digital signature of our lives can never be erased.

Their day will come, and their Karma will likely not be kind.

Then there are those who practice a different form of madness, where they risk their lives in the service of others. From a simplistic viewpoint, their madness is caring too much for the lives and well being of others, so much so that they are willing to take upon them the pains they would remove from another.

They give of their time, their health and their sanity to serve, to protect, to give, to love.

Theirs is the madness of greatness, often unappreciated, and rarely championed.

Yes, we humans are a strange species. We walk every day on the razors edge of madness, trying to find reason and understanding in a world that so often defies all logic and comprehension.

In the darkest times, we find those who adopt the nature of their demons, and those who shine out with the light of their inner angels.

And the darker the time, the greater the comparisons become.

Eventually, we know, this darkness will pass. Every day there are angels among us, carrying the burden of those whom they know, and protecting those who they don’t.

In some bright and shining day in the future, we will stand in their presence and thank them for their selfless service in a time when we all wondered if there would ever be light again.

Today, is our day to practice our own reasonable madness.

For never before have we had the chance to lift each other up, when we cannot reach out and touch. Never before have we been so connected in our ability to comfort and console, to strengthen and enlighten. Never has there been such a need, and never has there been such a possibility.

Today, and every day going forward, we get to choose how we write the stories of this pandemic.

Not the greater history, because that will always be written by those who are to come when they look back into the past, but we get to participate in the stories that will reside ever in the hearts of those to whom we reached out a hand, and lifted when there was little strength to rise.

Today is our day. Today is our time. Today is our history.

Take up your pen my friend, and begin writing.

And let’s make this a story worth telling.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Turning of the World

The Turning of the World.

How do we even get a perspective on this? In the space of a week here in my adopted country of the USA, we’ve gone from being fairly complacent to being terrified to a level that is unbelievable.

None of us knows what the future holds, and anyone who tells you they do, is probably over confident. Because the truth is, nothing like this ever happened before.

But the situation is not unlike terrible times before.

In my birth country of England, during the years of the Second World War, planes flew over the skies above the town in which I was to be born, and dropped bombs.

Missiles launched from across the seas struck churches, and the population feared everyday an invasion from a cruel enemy who gave no quarter, and showed no mercy.

In those times, death could come in the next evening, where the cover of darkness would allow the planes to fly, and the bombs to fall.

Growing up there as a teenager, I never understood it properly.

The stories of relatives and history seemed so unconnected to the relative safety in which I grew up (and I do mean relative, because despite my childhood not being an easy one, there was very little risk of dying in an explosion come the darkness).

I never truly understood that fear they must have lived through, but I’m starting to really understand how you can feel powerless against an enemy, and how you can struggle to understand how to get through the next day, and the next, and the next.

For we are living through a moment of history, and our choices get to determine how it turns out.

Because no, I can’t design a vaccine or an antibody to fight this virus, but I can through my actions and words lift the souls of those around me.

I don’t know how to keep our water running, nor our power on, but I can check on those who may be struggling, and do the best I can to help them. While my skills in the healthcare world do not lend themselves to triage and respiratory care, I can give advice and comfort to those who struggle with lesser, but still very real problems.

Because in order for us to survive as a nation, and a world, we need to connect, and we need to care.

In those dark and terrible days in England, it was the communities that won. While individuals broke the Nazi code, and brave pilots flew and men stormed the beaches, it was the unsung heroes back home who watched out for each other, who cared when no one else could, and who sat with the scared, the despairing, the alone.

If we are not together, we will not make it through this in the way that we can.

Today, we all have choices. We can succumb to fear, or we can focus on another. We can hoard and isolate, or we can share and uplift. Whoever you are, whatever your circumstance, there is something you can do to make the burdens of another less painful.

Even if it’s just lifting their heart in a time of trouble.

So please, today and every day onwards, please do what you can so that we can all be able to say with honesty that we were there, and we helped another.

Together, we will get through this, and this pale blue dot in the darkness of the universe will shine all the brighter because we pulled together while we were forced to stand apart for just a little while.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Wave Rider

Wave Rider.

The ocean…vast, unstoppable, relentless. An unforgiving expanse of undulating pressure, destroying all in its path, while simultaneously supporting the life it has bequeathed to all who reside upon, or beside.

To risk the ocean is to place your life in the capricious hands of physics, chemistry and fate, secure in the knowledge that any and all will erase you without mercy or regret.

Yet the ocean is not the soul providence of the waves.

For within our lives, the pattern of waves beat out a rhythm, a signature upon which we are tossed to and fro.

Be it time, be it fate, be it the continual ebb and flow of success and failure, love and hate, kindness and cruelty, joy and sadness, our lives are defined and described by the presence and the pressures of the waves upon which we ride.

And the presence of mind you carry through the flow.

For each crest and trough are but times of expression and education, times of rejoicing and remorse. The surfer who has learned the truth and the tricks of the water can balance on the highest peak, and survive the deepest depth.

In both circumstance, the art of survival is in having the right perspective and the required skills. The ability of the surfer to transition between the two is really the simple art of maintaining balance during the inevitable rise and fall.

Which is the art and the truth of riding all of the different waves in our lives.

For I know in your time there have been great tragedies and equal victories, and some you have borne with equanimity of spirit while others have thrown you who knows where. Both victory and defeat can destroy you, just as you can learn from both.

The ability to maintain your values, your practices and your disciplines during not only the highs and lows, but also during the transitions, is the secret to flourishing at a time when others fail.

And the art of balance is born out of the knowledge and practice of yourself.

For each peak and each trough carry with them the potential to pull you away from who you are, and question who it is you wish to be. From the epitome of the ego in victory, and the darkness of despair in defeat, there is always something that desires to draw your soul, and tempt your temper.

How easy it can be to lose ourselves in the moment, forgetting all that we hold of value, and succumb to the siren song of our greater weakness.

And in doing so, lose our balance and fall.

Within that moment, of falling and failing, we turn our time over to the powers and persuasions of others, allowing the moment to define us instead of our meditations, our intentions, and our greatest deliberations.

With each wave of life, there is the opportunity and choice of whether to stand as the core of our better intentions, or to fall into the weakest of our failings, and become the person we least desire to be.

Each wave, each moment, is a choice only you alone can make.

But if you desire to be a rider of the waves of life and time, you know as surely as do I that the choice is never really made in the moment, but in all the moments and decisions that came before.

For the soul that is tempered and focused, knowing of itself the truth unto itself, is the soul that can balance in this moment, and the next, and the next.

The greater balance you have in your soul, the greater the waves you can ride.

And remain. Riding.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Stark Revelation

The Stark Revelation.

If you’ve never seen Robert Downey, Jr.’s depiction of Tony Stark in the Iron Man/Avengers movies, let me explain him in a few words. Billionaire, Genius, Playboy, Philanthropist.

Well…those are Tony’s words, not mine. If I were going to describe Tony Stark, I’d use some rather different ones. Arrogant, insecure (the real root of arrogance), unhappy and angry.

And yet both sets of words describe him perfectly.

Which to me, as a child and a younger man, was unbelievable. I grew up with this belief that if you were going to be someone, or do something that was out of the ordinary, you had to be a certain type of person.

Good, kind, well-behaved, gentle. That if you were anything less than perfect, then things would go wrong, and you would inevitably be found out.

Which, as you can imagine, tended to stop me from trying a lot of things.

Because when all you can see are your faults and your fears, you don’t think you’re capable of doing the things you want to do, and neither do you deserve them. Instead you spend your time believing that you’ll never amount to anything, and that you deserve even less.

You worry about what everybody thinks of you, and you’re sure that someone, someday, will call you out for being less than you really ought to be.

A terrible thing to carry with you.

Yet for some reason, when I saw Mr. Downey’s depiction of the brilliant yet troubled Tony Stark, I began to realize that yet another thing that I thought was wrong. Here was someone who was obviously a genius, yet who had so many flaws.

A man who could be a hero, yet who could also act in a way that was detrimental to himself and others. Neither good nor bad, neither black nor white. A character whose roots and operating space were very much in the gray.

The kind of man who I believed I could be.

Yet there was a deeper lesson that was awaiting me as I watched. For although the character of Tony Stark is a work of fiction, the person of Robert Downey, Jr. is very much not. If you have known anything of his life, there was a time when he was anything but genius, and was everything that looked like trouble.

A drug addict, incarcerated, and on everybody’s list of people to never hire again. It seemed as though all of his faults were in the foreground, and all of his skills were very much in the past.

But he seemed to have still believed in himself.

And he started to climb back out of his nightmares, and find again the passion of his dreams. Although he was troubled, he was learning to become a better man. Although he still had weaknesses, he had found a role to play to his strengths.

Although there were a million reasons for people not to listen to him, the very power of his example and wisdom meant that people couldn’t look away.

And so despite everything that could have held him back, he rose, and became the man he is today. He was able to make the character of Tony Stark so real because of his flaws, and because of his failings.

We all carry beliefs within us; fears that we’re not good enough, or that we can’t do the things that we think we were born to do.

For me, the revelation of Tony Stark was that you don’t have to be perfect to have value, and sometimes, it’s the very flaws and failures that we carry, that allow us to become the very person that other people need us to be.

So today, I offer you the choice of changing your beliefs about yourself, and invite you to take yourself into the light, and see what is possible for you.

Because no one you admire is perfect, and neither are you.

And that doesn’t matter one bit.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: If / Then

If / Then.

She was running in a straight train of emotion, not thought. Her words, driven by fear and modulated by little, were running away from her logical brain; a stream of subconscious pain and sadness overflowing her ability to look at the situation in a way that would serve her.

Trauma driving her thoughts, terror defining her time. She spoke of all that she saw.

And it was straight linear pain.

Seeking a way to help her, I began with teaching her the very basics of logic. A psychological algebra that forms the basis of the way we interact with the temporal nature of an uncontrollable universe.

As she began to break down her fears into statements that we could work with, a pattern emerged that even she, deep in her fears and despair, could understand.

If {event} then {only possible outcome}, and I’ll feel {emotion that terrifies her}.

The system that I taught her is one that allows us to see different outcomes, if only we can practice the emotional balance needed to keep the possibilities in our mind.

At each statement, “If”, “Then” and “I’ll feel”, there are many different potential outcomes, many choices that we might make, but fear clouds our mind to its eye of reason, and we see only one possible outcome, a singular timeline leading to all that we are afraid of.

It’s like a train that hurtles towards the impact, unable to vary from the track it finds itself on.

But the reason we use the word consciousness is because that very thing, our consciousness, our awareness that we can change, allows us to modify our direction, our choice of tracks, if we try hard enough.

It’s not easy, especially if those thoughts are long practiced, or if our terror is so great, but over time, with patience and practice, we can learn to drive our thoughts down different paths.

But it takes a lot of effort.

And right now, my friend needed something to help her in the moment, as well as a mechanism to help her in the future. As I began to carefully change her emotional state, I used language as a scalpel, tone as a swab, kindness as stitches, and wisdom as light.

Talking her down from her terrified state took a while, but by the end of the conversation, she could see a small light at the end of her very dark tunnel.

But it’s a long way off, and there are many steps to tread in between.

Because like the two areas of our brain that think and feel, so there is a need for strategies and skills that both help in the moment, and heal in the long term. What we think can change quickly, but what we feel is deeper and takes either a longer time, or a much more powerful lever.

The level of crisis determines the approach, and the person’s ability to withstand pressure determines the timeline.

The rest is just a matter of technique and kindness.

In the end, the greatest thing I have to offer my friend is the space to feel safe in, so that she might learn the lessons to heal herself in a place that honors her humanity, and defends and uplifts her dignity.

Exposing the wounds so deep in our core is never easy, and the slightest hint of judgment or derision can be enough to shut us down.

So for now, the greatest gift I have to offer is caring.

Sometimes just knowing someone is there is allows us to see the beginning of the journey.

And then we walk.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings