Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Emily Dickinson’s poem Hope grows on me like new feathers sprouting on a young bird in spring.

         Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune—without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

 Unrecognized in her lifetime for her literary talent, today  Emily Dickinson is widely respected as the mother of American Poetry.  In spite of lack of encouragement, fewer than a dozen poems published, and no audience to speak of, she persisted in writing. After her death, her sister discovered 1800 poems secreted away, neatly bound in fascicles.

If we were to meditate on the word hope each day, uproot the sources of our hopelessness, what grand potential would burgeon!

Helen DeRosis, M.D.,  the author of The Book of Hope, was my supervisor during the first year of  my residency.  She advised us psychiatrists-in-training to pay attention to the islands of health in every person. “Find and build on these as you treat your patients,” she said. 

At first, I underestimated the value of her straightforward approach, which seemed overly simplistic, but by the end of the year, I digested, appreciated and integrated her wisdom.

Hope is Golden. Transforming hopelessness into hope is like  spinning straw into gold. In a Brothers Grimm tale, an imp named Rumpelstiltskin succeeds in this miraculous task for a future princess in exchange for her first-born child.

(Of course, in the end, his efforts are for naught; he offers to withdraw his claim if the then-queen can guess his name within three days, and she ultimately discovers it.)

To expand the moral to a metaphor, spinning straw into gold can stand for the experience of  transformation or transcendence.

President Obama’s story is a similar tale of rising to the top against the odds, embracing rather than shrugging off contradictions, which he relates in his book, The Audacity of Hope.

The psychotherapist  works on the cognitive level to discover thoughts  that obstruct the road to hope. I’d venture to guess that more important than lack of opportunity, hopelessness lies at the root of much lost talent and creativity.

Here’s my version of hope.

  

A Psychotherapist's View

We are the last to see ourselves

Mirrors, rivers, bays don’t help

Blind spots buried at our core

Keep us guessing why the sore-

The baffling mystery of it all

Until we recognize our task

To grasp close to doubting breast

Bright, bold hope so each fear

Flowers  full into hope-

bearing luscious  fruit

Conclusion: Transforming hopelessness to hope is essential before a person can reap the rich mine of contentment. 

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

Luck and Beyond

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  My dear colleague and friend has a chronically ill spouse. The couple struggle to cope with it; they love each other very much and behave admirably in the face of adversity. “So much of health is a matter of luck,” my friend says. 

 This is true but only part of my mind admits it. I do everything I can to stay healthy and entertain the magical notion that my actions will prevent diseases of any and all kinds. In any case, I’m aware of the power and the impotence of the brain which is even capable of manufacturing imaginary illnesses. We may think we have a disease when the body is healthy.  (The state of hysteria, in which a person imagines and creates a variety of symptoms, was a major focus in Freud’s day.)

Just as good health is determined in part by luck, so can personal achievement. Possessing talent doesn’t necessarily translate into accomplishment; a person often needs the luck of an environment to nurture the gift. Much human potential is squandered because of circumstances.

A person may also be given both the gifts and opportunities but sabotage themselves through their own mental conflicts.  David Foster Wallace is an example of a writer with a brilliant mind (author of Infinite Jest ,1996) who suffered from depression fueled by lack of self acceptance; he wanted to be a different person and a different kind of writer.

We are a complex conundrum of contradictions. I celebrate the simplicity of nonhuman animals who rarely, if ever, suffer from self hate. I am blessed to be able to luxuriate in the affectionate company of pets (please see the link, at the bottom right of this page, to Cabala of the Animals).

Conclusion: We humans do best to appreciate our luck, to be compassionate with ourselves and others, and to remind ourselves that nonhuman animals have no problem “accepting” themselves.

Dear Reader: I welcome your comments. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

Some Essentials on the Essence of Empathy

Empathy is the ability to tune into another person’s thoughts and feelings.  Sometimes I think empathy is a luxury because its expression can be suble and goes beyond the essential meat and potatoes of daily living (food and shelter) akin to the icing on a cake. A parent can meet a child’s physical needs, but the invisible quality of empathy is a key to healthy development and the ability to relate to others. But in essence, empathy is not superfluous; its lack is a common denominator underlying violence.

On the battlefield, of course, empathy is, by necessity, suspended; a soldier has to deny empathic feelings or he would not be able to fight. In ordinary life, we naturally gravitate toward empathic people, and intuitively shun those who fail to put themselves in our shoes.

Lack of empathy explains (at least partially) the development of the sociopathic individual who is able to detect the emotions of other people without experiencing the reciprocal emotion or sympathy. He uses his diabolical skill to exploit unsuspecting individuals.

The theme of Hansel and Gretel, the classic German fairy tale story, recorded by the Grimm brothers, resonates with children’s fears of indifferent caretakers throughout the ages.  A wicked step mother, plots to abandon her step children in the forest. In spite of her blatant lack of empathy, they endure and survive.

We naturally learn empathy when we’re shown empathy in our early years. Parents (caretakers) can be well meaning and good-intentioned, but if they don’t know how to express compassion, an important tool is absent from the tool box of parenting skills and the children invariably suffer some consequences, e.g., confusion, conflict, low self esteem.

“How do you think Johnie feels when you hit him?” is a question a parent asks their toddler in the playground in an attempt to teach empathy.

The empathic caretaker responds to the child. “I’m so sorry you skinned your knee. Does it hurt? Let’s wash it and put a Band-Aid on it.”

By contrast, the indifferent or unfeeling caretaker criticizes, “You fell down again! You should be more careful.”

In the latter case, the child learns to tune out his feelings and vulnerabilities. He is likely to develop narcissistic tendencies, becoming indifferent to the feelings and needs of other people. Because he has experienced the world of others as dangerous and uncaring, he feels alone with the need to fend for himself.

The cycle perpetuates itself. People who were raised without the luxury of empathy, don’t know how to treat their children empathically and may expect the child to take care of their personal, parental needs. The child inevitably fails to meet their expectations and may be psychologically or even physically abused.

Alice Miller’s seminal book, The Drama of the Gifted Child elucidates the dynamics of child rearing devoid of empathy, and shows how this lack  perpetuates itself generation after generation, but can be altered with psychoanalysis. Heinz Kohut expanded Freud’s work which focused on conflicts between the ego and id and the resulting guilt. Kohut’s books deal with shame originating in the younger or pre-oedipal child, stemming from lack of empathy.    

I had a rewarding experience as a psychotherapist/psychoanalyst during the long term treatment of a person who had been severely physically and emotionally abused early in life. For several years, he saw others as victimizing him. Gradually he was able to develop empathic feelings for people around him. Recognizing that he had projected feelings from the past onto people in the present, he extricated himself from the victim role.

With compassion from others and a willingness to become self-aware, empathy can be taught, but the process can take a long time.   

I raise some questions. Does empathy have a role to play in prisons? Can we show empathy or try to teach empathy in the prisons?  Does lack of empathy contribute to the fact that some prisoners emerge as more hardened criminals? Is compassion  responsible for helping some become caring citizens?

Should we consider constructing computers to teach us about empathy and how to become less war-like?

Dear Reader, Please share your experiences and opinions on this vital, far-ranging subject. (jsimon145@gmail.com)

Treasures and Tribulations of Travel

Travel broadens us by expanding our knowledge of the world and ourselves. In my experience, travel has shown me that people of the world are in many ways  more alike than different; it has altered my self perception too. (I’m not as easily gregarious as I might like to think.) 

An individual may experience travel from a matter of endurance to the thrill of the open road. For people who love it, travel may be the high point of their lives.  Others dread the inconveniences, yearning for their own bed and pillows.

When planning a trip, I become bogged down with details of the arrangements I need to make before the departure.

What to wear? Which suitcase and credit card to take? What to do about phone service? Remembering to change my answering machine. Stock up on food for pets and write orders about their care. Once aloft in the plane, I relax and focus on the destination, read the travel guide and study the language.

Today we can navigate the world in a day or so; Jules Verne’s classic story Around the World in Eighty Days, first published in 1873, made into a great film by the same name, seems long past, like the era of the dinosaurs.

Letting go of our routine can teach us on many levels: We may find ourselves asking what really matters. What’s important in the larger scheme of our lives? What loose ends do we need to tie up? Write a will? Sell a stock? Change the parameters of a friendship?

Travel can transform us if we’re open to it. Mr. M. went through a phase of his life when he traveled broadly. He made many ‘friends’ for the first time in his life; but when they contacted him with the intention of continuing the relationship, his fears surfaced; he couldn’t imagine setting limits, saying “No” to them. He assumed he’d be overtaken by their needs as he was in his family. However, he learned to define his comfort zone, maintaining an email correspondence.

When we travel, we break out of the ‘home’ routine. ‘Routine on the road’ is very different and for me, seems to stretch time. Five days can seem like ten. I’m jolted by the fact that time is a relative perception as well as an objective reality. I appreciate that for me travel expands and stretches time.

With new adventures under my belt, I’m relieved to return home to my comfort zone. Sometimes I see my city as I imagine a tourist would. How would a Parisian view New York? I know that happy memories, beautiful impressions of the places I’ve been, will surface at various times over the years.

Dear Readers, Summertime is almost upon us and you’re probably planning a trip. Please share your treasures and tribulations. (jsimon145@gmail.com)