Category Archives: Personal Reflections

Happiness, Personal Reflections, Writing

Confirmation Bias on My Way to Spearfish, South Dakota

6 Comments

Confirmation bias is an insidious cognitive process that typically travels just below our awareness. Here’s how it worked for me today.

I’m on my way to Spearfish, SD to do a “Tough Kids, Cool Counseling” workshop tomorrow and keynote on Friday. My belief is that it’s always hard to pack up and get everything ready and make it to the airport. Usually I hold a negative confirmation bias in my mind. This negative bias involves a belief or working hypothesis that the world will conspire against me and stress me out in the process of trying to arrive at the airport in a timely manner.

First, I’m in my office and about to turn off my computer and my office phone rings. Rarely does my phone ring anymore and it’s even more rare that I answer it with only 10 minutes left before my pre-planned office departure time. But my impulses take over and I answer it. It’s the associate dean and our development officer wondering if I have a few minutes to talk. They rush down and we meet for a few minutes, which puts me only slightly behind as I head to the copy machine for, of course, some last minute copies.

Second, Rita is driving me to the airport. She asks me what route she should take (please note: Rita almost never asks ME what route to take and so this is an anomaly in and of itself). I rise to the bait and tell her my quickest route to the airport.

Third, my best route to the airport begins crumbling when we have to stop for a train.

Fourth, my best route has a back-up option in case of a train. We take it. It leads us directly into road construction.

Fifth, we circumnavigate (I love that word) the road construction and make it to the airport.

Sixth, my confirmation number is in a “pre-check-in” email on my cell phone. I pull out my phone and sort through 53 emails, twice, before concluding that it has apparently disappeared.

Seventh, I get checked in anyway and head through security and upstairs only to discover that Liquid Planet’s espresso machine is broken and I can’t have my pre-flight white chocolate mocha and . . .

Eighth, I have to drag my bags and myself downstairs to use the restroom because the road construction has taken over the upstairs airport bathroom.

But now I’m here, sitting and waiting to board my flight and marveling at how today, for some odd reason, I was able to monitor the universe’s push-back and yet not get sucked into a bad mood. Of course, given that I saw the confirmation bias coming, I was able to simultaneously notice the universe’s positive encouragement as well. After all:

1. The associate dean and development officer are two of the nicest people on the planet and they wanted me to speak at a fancy College of Education and Human Sciences event and that sounds like fun.
2. The copy machine worked perfectly and there was NO LINE!
3. It was a beautiful, sunny day in Missoula as I bicycled back and forth from the University on my perfectly functional bike that didn’t get a flat tire.
4. Rita shared half an avocado with me while at home.
5. The toilet flushed without incident.
6. The car started without incident.
7. The circumnavigation went well and it reminded me of how much I like the word circumnavigation. I was also reminded that Rita is an excellent driver and stupendous conversationalist.
8. The guy at the United Airlines desk was nice and efficient.
9. I got to be in the TSA pre-screening category (not that it makes any difference in the Missoula airport).
10. Instead of getting a white chocolate mocha that I didn’t need I got exercise on my way to and from the restroom.
11. I still got here in time to write this post.
12. And, I’m on my way to Spearfish, South Dakota to have an excellent time with some cool professionals who have dedicated their lives to helping others.

Seriously, it would be difficulty to conclude, despite my usual negative confirmation bias about trips to the airport, that this day (and perhaps my whole life) is anything other than infused with most excellent good fortune.

I wish you all the best with your own confirmation bias challenges. Your homework assignment is to intentionally count the positive events in your life and intentionally not count or dwell too much on the less-positive events.

Personal Reflections

What’s Wrong with March Madness?

4 Comments

Being in the middle of March Madness is an excellent moment to step back to briefly reflect on the nature and function hype and hyperbole. Let’s start with a look at madness.

Madness is a 14th century term for insanity and insanity implies a break from reality. As such, March Madness is aptly named. For many (including me) March Madness is a good time to ignore reality, job productivity, and common sense. Filling out brackets and imagining that you might correctly pick every winner and win a billion dollars is a great example of taking a break from reality.

Below is a quick Q & A about some of the main things that are wrong (or insane) about March Madness

Question #1: Who will win the NCAA basketball tournament?

The winner of the NCAA tournament will be (surprise) the NCAA and all rich folks who stand to get richer based on their associations with the NCAA. This includes a certain wealthy man whom I’ll refer to as “he-who-will-not-be-named,” NCAA sponsors, CBS, and Vegas. It will also include one team with a rich coach who makes more than $2,000,000 a year and a roster of about 15 relatively poor guys who make hardly anything (but one or two of which will make bank next year). My point is that you shouldn’t confuse March Madness with a charity benefit. This tournament is designed to do that good old American thing of helping the rich get richer while the rest of us take a break from reality and experience entertainment.

Question #2: Who will be the losers?

Nearly everyone else will be the losers. Last year, Harvard Business Review estimated the cost of the NCAA tournament in losses to worker productivity to be from $175 million to $1 billion. There also will be 67 teams (not to mention the non-qualifiers) who will be admirably labelled losers. In addition, even the winners (players who have spent substantial time and effort working and playing together) will be generally uncompensated.

Question #3: Seriously, who should I bet on?

First thoughts on this: (a) Bet on the home team; (b) bet on the East coast; and (c) bet on the favorites (aka: the big names). Even though the NCAA tournament is played at neutral sites, like most things NCAA, this is only partly true. This year, we have Florida in Florida, Duke in Raleigh, NC, Wisconsin in Wisconsin, and Kansas in far off St. Louis, Missouri. Of course, this doesn’t always work out (think Duke), but it’s a good start. Also, NCAA basketball nearly always tilts Eastward. This is related to ESPN’s contractual preference for Eastern conferences (and efforts to ignore the left coast). Finally, come crunch time, the big name players and coaches will get the call (or non-call) from the officials. In the end, when it comes to NCAA basketball, the refs appear unable to help themselves from favoring the favorites.

Question #4: Who will be the winning coach?

When in doubt, it makes sense to tip your hat to whoever has the most resources. Consequently, consider what the following well-dressed coaches make annually (and compare it to what their players and college/university presidents and professors make) and then go with the resource rich . . . because this is America, where the rich are usually favored in the lottery of who gets richer.

  1. Duke (Mike Krzyzewski: $7+ million) – oops, lost already
  2. Louisville (Rick Pitino: About $5 million)
  3. Kansas (Bill Self: About $5 million)
  4. Michigan State (Tom Izzo: About $4 million)
  5. Florida (Billy Donovan (About $4 million)
  6. Ohio State (Thad Matta: About $3 million) – oops, lost already
  7. Indiana (Tom Crean: About $3 million) – oops, didn’t make the NCAAs
  8. Arizona (Sean Miller: About $2.5 million)
  9. Wisconsin (Bo Ryan: Over $2 million)
  10. Villanova (Jay Wright: Over $2 million) – oops, lost already.

Based on the preceding list, it looks to be a good year for the Big Ten. Or a bad year, if they spend all that money and come up with what I think they’ll come up with.

Question #5: Who will win the sportsmanship award?

Of course, there is NO sportsmanship award, but if there was one, I’d give it to all the players and coaches who display fabulous restraint despite exposure to stupefying heckling fans and enigmatic basketball officiating. They will rarely complain. They won’t storm the stands to try to shut the mouths of fans who should be arrested for what they say. They will just politely take all the crap aimed their direction. Seriously, the players are 18 to 23-year-olds and they show WAY more maturity than we should expect . . . which is why college basketball really needs to do something to protect them from the fans and the officials.

Question #6: How can you make yourself even more insane?

The is simple: just read any of a bevy of sports message boards on the Internet. If you read these you’ll be exposed to perhaps the most inane and ridiculous commentary on the face of the planet. My advice: Just say no to reading the message (comment) boards. I’ve done it and nearly always instantly regret the effect it has on my mental health.

Question #7: Why all the upsets?

There will be upsets because there are always upsets and we know from decades of tightly controlled psychological research that the best predictor of the future is the past. We also know that the only thing people can really predict is the past . . . which is why I’ll be submitting my Billion dollar bracket right after the tourney ends.

The other reason we know there will be upsets is because most members of the NCAA selection committee can’t see very far past the three letters they’ve scrawled right next to their navels. These letters are R-P-I. You probably know that RPI stands for ratings percentage index. What you may not know is that the RPI is seriously flawed. I mean seriously. That’s why the 12 seeds nearly always beat the 5 seeds. And did anyone really think that UMASS was a 6 seed or Duke a 3 seed or Ohio State (5-4 in their last nine games) deserved a 6 seed? The RPI is a bogus statistical procedure that tends to help teams from BIG conferences with more money. Unfortunately, odds-makers at Vegas could do a better job at seeding the NCAA tournament than the selection committee.

Question #8: Why didn’t anyone win the Billion dollars

“He who will not be named” did a big promotion of temporary March insanity when he offered one Billion dollars for a perfect bracket. This was such a scam that. . . hahaha. . . you could almost hear the evil laugh. Like most scams, this was just a publicity stunt. You would have better odds of winning two back-to-back powerball lotteries with two single tickets than the Billion dollars of “He who won’t be named.” If you really thought you could win, then, although I’m generally against psychotropic medications, I would recommend Lithium. This is all really too bad because I used to respect the man I won’t be naming.

Okay. Let me end with an apology. I would have started with an apology but the great author Henry James said you should never start a letter with an apology. So here’s my closing apology: Sorry for going all negative. I love college basketball. I just hate the fans, the refs, the selection committee, and the unequal distribution of the wealth and glory. Besides, my bracket got busted, so I’m in an insanely bad mood.

Counseling and Psychotherapy Theory and Practice, Personal Reflections

Listening as Meditation on Psychotherapy.net

1 Comment

Listening in psychotherapy and counseling is partly art and partly science. This week I have the good fortune of having a blog piece I wrote on Listening as Meditation published at psychotherapy.net. You can access this blog piece — and other excellent psychotherapy.net blog pieces — at: http://www.psychotherapy.net/blog

Have an excellent and mindful Wednesday.

John SF

Personal Reflections

A Guest Blog Titled “Not Having the Answer is My Answer” by Tara Smart

2 Comments

Not Having the Answer is My Answer

By Tara Smart, Ed.S.

               I returned to graduate school in 2012 after living and working in the professional world for over a decade.  In fact, 12 years ago I graduated from the University of Montana with an Ed.S in School Psychology.  I had survived the onslaught of stress that graduate school threw at me the first time.  While working towards my Ed.S, friends and family often asked “What are you going to do when you graduate?” I always responded—with confidence—that I would be working as a school psychologist.  People often commented that the financial, mental, and emotional stress of graduate school would all be worth it, since I had a solid plan for the future.  Their affirming responses reassured me that I was suffering for a good cause and that it would all be worth it in the end.   I was nearly immune to the stress of everyday life, because I was already living in the future.

This time around, my rendezvous with graduate school is a completely different experience.  I’m now in my second year in the Counselor Education and Supervision Department at the University of Montana, and I fumble over my words every time the question about my future plan gets asked.  And it gets asked quite frequently. Initially I hoped that, over time, my answer would evolve and then flow smoothly from my mouth.  I have come to realize, however, that there is and will be no flow.  I simply don’t know the answer. Instead of receiving affirmation, I watch people’s faces scrunch up and a concerned smile cross their lips.  Their heads tilt and although they utter words of encouragement, their body language shouts that I’m a pitiful soul locked in the dungeons of graduate school purgatory for what seems like no good reason.  This mixed message makes me uncomfortable, so I try to minimize the stress of the situation by reassuring others that I’m okay and that I’ll figure out the answer eventually.

But underneath my reassurance to them, and to me, questions linger: Why do I even feel the need to have an answer to this question?  Why does a confident answer assure others, and more importantly, why do I need it as reassurance for myself? It occurred to me while listening to a mortgage commercial on the radio, that modern society often focuses on looking to the future.  Buying a house, long term care insurance, and retirement planning all promise us that if we make sacrifices today, then we can live a perfect life in the future.  The planned future is always bright and full of potential.  The future—although it obviously hasn’t happened yet, somehow compensates me for painful decisions in the present.  If I don’t like my job, I just look at my retirement account and tell myself to keep on plugging away, because there will happiness at the end of this work rainbow.  For me, in the past, the future was a pretty decent place to live, until I realized I was missing out on the present.

The present is jumping on the trampoline with my boys. That moment is filled with laughter and love. The present is going to Lolo for Sunday dinner with grandparents. It’s typing this blog at the computer with my cat purring on my lap. The present isn’t just hopes and dreams, it is reality.  It’s not always as grand and fantastic as an imagined future, but it’s always real.  I can touch, smell, and experience it. Now, I’ve decided I like the present, even though it’s still a struggle for me to remain here.

Intentionally deciding to remain in the present has implications for how I handle myself. It means I don’t need an answer to the question. It means I’m not failing when I don’t have an answer.  It just means I don’t know yet.

Not knowing yet is different than never knowing.  I trust the present to guide me to the future.  I trust the present to bring me happiness and wisdom. Before, I was good at answering questions about the future because I was good at living in the future.  I wasn’t able to enjoy the present moment. But now I’m living in the present and trusting myself that my future will evolve exactly as it needs to based on how I live each and every day.

When I realized that my discomfort and inability to answer the question was a reflection of an enhanced ability and comfort to stay in the present, my shoulders relaxed and I let out a deep sigh of relief.  I don’t need to know what I’m going to do when I’m done with graduate school, again.  I can enjoy this moment, this day, and this journey. Not having an answer to the question doesn’t mean, as I’d feared, that I’ve foolishly entered graduate school and will waste time and money since there’s no solid plan for the future.  In fact, it has helped me understand that my plan for the future is to live in the present each day because this is a journey that’s worth savoring.

 

Clinical Interviewing, Cool Counseling, Personal Reflections, Therapy with Adolescents, Tough Kids, Tough Kids Cool Counseling

What You Missed in Cincinnati

2 Comments

For me, the hardest thing about presenting professional workshops is time management. I want participants to comment, but how can I plan in advance for exactly how long their comments will be? Even worse, how can I accurately estimate the length of my own impromptu moments? It seems obvious that there’s a need for spontaneity. I don’t want to cut off potentially valuable comments from participants . . . and I don’t want to cut off my own creative musings either. Clearly, the clock is my workshop enemy.

For example, how could I know in advance that I would suddenly feel compelled to share a personal dream of mine with 85 of my new Cincinnati counselor friends? Never before had I shared with a workshop audience that 45 years-ago I dreamt I was Felix-the-Cat and then while crossing the road (as Felix), I got hit by a car . . . and died.

But then I woke up and have kept on living.

I like to think that particular disclosure is a perfectly normal thing to do when you’ve got a group of professional counselors to listen to you.

The point was to bust the myth that some teenage client have (and will talk about in counseling) that if they dream they die, it is prophetic and means they’ll die soon in real life also.

And beyond my personal dream disclosure, how would I know that one of the participants would have such passion that he would accept an invitation to come up to the microphone and share a physical relaxation technique that he uses with elementary school students.

These are just two samples of the sort of thing you missed because you weren’t in Cincinnati at the Schiff Center on the Xavier University campus yesterday.

But you also missed the start of the workshop where I decided on the spot that it was just the right time and place for me to open the workshop with a story of the most embarrassing moment in my life. It struck me as an awesome idea at the time . . . and it really was the most embarrassing moment of my life . . . until a few hours later when I shared my Felix-the-Cat dream.

There are always bigger mountains to climb.

You also missed meeting my incredibly gracious hosts from the Greater Cincinnati Counseling Association including, Butch Losey (who’s the most humble and understated guy who should be famous I’ve ever met), Kay Russ (who’s right up there with the most responsible person I’ve ever met), and Brent Richardson (who is as irreverent and insightful as ever), and Robert Wubbolding (who may be on his way to Casablanca to do a week long choice theory/reality therapy workshop by the time I post this and yet took eight hours out of his life to attend the workshop anyway).

So that’s just a little taste of what you missed in Cincinnati.

I’ll bet you wish you were there. I know I’m glad I was.

Boys and Men, Counseling and Psychotherapy Theory and Practice, Personal Reflections

Why Evolution is a Bad Explanation for Human Behavior

8 Comments

Nearly every day I hear, read, or see the latest news story about how the human brain is hard-wired to make all humans act in one particular way or another. These stories annoy me because:

  1. They emphasize that all humans are the same and ignore the fact that we’re all unique and, to a large degree, unpredictable.
  2. They imply that humans are unlikely to change or deviate from one another.
  3. They repeatedly claim we’re all hard-wired despite the fact that the human brain has NO WIRES.

Even worse, at the bottom of most of these “Your brain is hard-wired” stories is a mythical evolutionary explanation. This annoys me even more . . . because when it comes to everyday human behavior, evolution makes for very bad explanations. But if you’re listening to what pundits and scientists say in the media, you’d be inclined to believe the opposite of what’s really true about humans.

For mysterious reasons, many scientists—especially evolutionary scientists—want to put humans in a box. They suggest and imply and assert that human behavior is predictable. But the truth is that—apart from breathing—there are very few predictable human behaviors. As decades of controlled psychological experiments have shown, even under laboratory conditions where little choice is possible, scientific predictions typically account for no more that 30-40% of the variation in human behavior. This means that humans are 60-70% unpredictable . . . even under highly controlled conditions.

Aside from being mostly wrong, simple evolutionary and biological explanations for human behavior also often are translated into messages that are generally unhealthy for society. Let’s take one big example.

An especially popular media and science topic is male sexual behavior. The argument usually goes like this: Over millions of years males have become hardwired to be attracted to fertility and novelty in sexual partners. This is because . . . the argument continues . . . males seek to perpetuate their gene-pool. This is why, they say, males are attracted to younger females who exhibit signs of reproductive health. This also explains why males—especially young males—are driven to have sex with multiple female partners.

Given current U.S. social problems—think sexual assault and high divorce rates—it makes little sense to promote the mostly false ideas that males seek sexual novelty to perpetuate their gene pool. This information is unhelpful to women who want safe and stable relationships with men and it’s unhelpful to the majority of men who—in contradiction to evolutionary theory—want safe and monogamous intimate relationships with women (or other men).

Most of the time, most males engage in sexual behavior that’s not at all designed to spread their seed or perpetuate their gene pool. Young men are often strongly motivated to NOT get their girlfriends pregnant. Recent data indicate that many young men are NOT especially interested in engaging in indiscriminate sexual behavior.

Even in a 2011 research study at Syracuse University, 333 undergraduate males apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about being hardwired to want sex with novel partners. When asked, whether they could “. . . imagine themselves enjoying casual sex” these young men showed an average response that was largely in the “undecided” range. Think about that: males from 18-22 years-old at Syracuse University couldn’t really decide if they might enjoy casual sex. This is good news. And it’s not consistent with evolutionary-based myths about contemporary young men.

In the same study, 300+ Syracuse University women reported—in direct contradiction to evolutionary theory—that they had been engaging in casual sexual encounters at approximately the same rate as the males.

And so next time you hear or read or view a media story about how millions of years of evolution explains why human males or females behave one way or another, remember that many immediate conditions can and do override evolutionary-based predictions. Evolution is a generality that may or may not apply to a single organism living in the 21st century. Evolution does not trump choice. And that’s the point: Your choices tomorrow will have much more to do with the situations you’re facing today (and that you’re anticipating tomorrow) than they’ll have to do with yesterday.

Boys and Men, Personal Reflections

Raising Boys in the 21st Century

Leave a comment

As some of you may already know, yesterday I had a blog piece posted on the American Counseling Association website. The piece was titled, “Boys will be Boys . . . Unless we teach them something Better.” Check it out here, if you like: http://www.counseling.org/news/blog

There’s also much more helpful information on “raising boys” on the internet. One example is this featured blog on the Good Men Project website: “How We Can Improve Sex Ed for Boys.” Here’s the link for that: http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/the-good-life-how-we-can-improve-sex-ed-for-boys/

I hope you’re all doing well in the run-up (as the Brits would say) to some major holiday activity.

John SF

 

Personal Reflections

A New Book from Pamela Hays

Leave a comment

You may not have heard of Pamela Hays, but you should know about her work and so I’m posting a short comment here.

Pamela Hays, Ph.D. is a clinical psychologist and author of my favorite multicultural counseling book: Cultural Complexities in Practice: Assessment, Diagnosis and Therapy. She has several other books out and what I like best about them is that she takes complex issues and makes them clear and easy to understand; not an easy task.

Below is some information about her latest book . . . which is hot off the press. The title is: Creating Well-Being: Four Steps to a Happier, Healthier Life.

If you know me, you know that I’m sometimes critical of work in the field of counseling and psychotherapy . . . and don’t worry, I’ll re-embrace my more critical self in my next couple blogs. However, for now I’m focusing on the positive and focusing on the positive includes focusing on Dr. Pamela Hays and so here’s the information about her latest book!

Pamela’s book is currently available directly from the publisher (American Psychological Association) http://www.apa.org/pubs/books/4441020.aspx, Barnes & Noble, Amazon, and some independent book stores. The book combines the latest info on happiness and well-being with CBT tools (including mindfulness practices) to get on the wellness path.

And now here’s a description of the book.

Texts. Emails. Errands. Endless to-do lists. Even if we’re keeping up, are we truly enjoying our lives? Remedies like a day at the beach may bring short-term relief, but what brings the lasting changes that help us be our best selves? Pamela Hays has written this book to help you take control and fulfill your dreams. Full of fun exercises and real-life examples, the book shares a tried and true approach that is easy to understand, learn, and accomplish. Get started by taking stock of your personal strengths. Learn to realistically assess problems and connect each to a solution. Become aware of the thought traps that hold you back. Take action on the problems that can be changed, and manage your emotions when problems are beyond your control. Based on the author’s 20+ years of experience and sound psychological principles and research, this book will help you cultivate a lasting talent for self-care and well-being.

Pamela A. Hays, PhD

Pages: 221

Item #: 4441020

ISBN: 978-1-4338-1573-7

List Price: $19.95

Publication Date: October 2013

Format: Softcover

About the author:
Pamela A. Hays is the author of Addressing Cultural Complexities in Practice: Assessment, Diagnosis and Therapy; and Connecting Across Cultures: The Helper’s Toolkit; and co-editor of Culturally Responsive Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy. A DVD of her work has been produced by the American Psychological Association as part of their expert therapist series, entitled Culturally Responsive Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy in Practice. She holds a Ph.D. from the University of Hawaii, served as a National Institute of Mental Health Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Rochester School of Medicine, and from 1989-2000 worked as a core faculty member in the graduate program at Antioch University, Seattle. She currently maintains a private practice in Soldotna, Alaska, works part-time for The Kenaitze Tribe’s Nakenu Family Center, and conducts workshops internationally. She can be reached through her website at www.drpamelahays.com

Personal Reflections

In Search of the Mystical Ravalli Doughnuts

2 Comments

A couple of Fridays ago I had the honor of going on a road trip to Whitefish with Erika Twedt. Erika—who somewhat mysteriously goes by “Twedt” (pronounced Tweet)—is the Director of Development and Alumni Relations for the Phyllis J. Washington College of Education and Human Sciences here at the University of Montana.

Twedt and I hit the road at 8:03 a.m. She was on time. I was three minutes late. When these things happen (me being late) I typically blame the University of Montana because classes here begin at 10 minutes after the hour. The University of Montana has trained me to never be able to get somewhere at the “top” of the hour. Of course, I’m often late for things that happen at the bottom of the hour, but let’s not go there. I recall being five minutes late for a psychotherapy appointment back in 1986 and when I apologized, my psychotherapist simply said, “It’s your time.” Good point. Lesson number one: When I’m late, I’m the one who’s late and I’m the one who bears the responsibility and cost.

Not long into the trip Twedt described herself as a “luddite.” So I used my smartphone to figure out what the heck she was talking about.

Merriam-Webster online informed me that Twedt-the-luddite was “. . . one of a group of early 19th century English workmen who were destroying laborsaving machinery as a protest.” She didn’t look like an English workman, but looks can be deceiving. And all this time I thought she was into fundraising and not destruction. But maybe our trip to Whitefish was really to sabotage some cutting edge technology.

It also struck me that perhaps I should hide my phone. But I’m bigger than Twedt and I don’t think she (or really anyone named Twedt) could wrestle my phone away from me—at least not while driving. So I boldly connected with the Urban Dictionary online. The U-B gave me a more contemporary take on luddite: “One who fears technology (or new technology, as they seem pleased with how things currently are…why can’t everything just be the same?).”

Turns out Twedt had a smartphone of her own and she didn’t really look like she was afraid of it; so much for dictionary definitions off the internet.

I soon discovered that Twedt was a pithy quotation machine. And so I pulled out my laptop to intermittently type up and save her quotes. As a luddite, Twedt doesn’t go online (she’s probably afraid to) and so she’ll never read what I’m writing about her anyway. Nevertheless, I offered her informed consent by saying, “I’m going to turn this trip into a blog-post” and then typing her pithy statements into my computer and occasionally reading them back to her. This was my way of being an especially fun person to ride with to Whitefish and back. And since she never said, “You can’t blog about this trip” it appears I have consent to write this.

We were only about 37 miles North of Missoula and nearing Ravalli, MT (not Ravalli County—and this is a big difference), when Twedt said:

“We have extra time. We need to stop here and find the amazing donuts.”

Twedt didn’t really know what she was doing and she doesn’t use technology, so she stopped at a café and we entered together, seeking donuts. Twedt also didn’t realize that I’m a bit of a donut aficionado, if I do say so myself. We entered the café and Twedt suddenly became shy and so because I was suddenly on the hunt for amazing donuts I took the lead.

“Is this the place in Ravalli with the amazing donuts?”

The owner/proprieter simply said, “I wish we had amazing donuts.” Twedt then began shouting at the woman, saying, “I wish you had some ________ amazing donuts too . . . but all you have is some old _______ coffee . . .” and so I had to pull her out of the café and calm her down. Of course, Twedt didn’t really say any of that, but it could have happened. Instead, we just meekly retreated from the café and doubled back south to find the amazing donuts. This is when I started to get nervous because now we were headed back to Missoula and away from Whitefish. Twedt clearly had a thing about donuts.

We made it to the Windmill Village Bakery at 26715 US 93, Ravalli, MT 59863. I’ve included the whole address because if you’re reading this and care at all about the state of donuts in America, you’ll want to plan your next trip around a visit to the Windmill Village Bakery. And I just checked and Yelp includes five different ratings for the Windmill Bakery and they’re all five stars.

We entered. There was an ethereal glazed sugar quality to the air. And then we saw the donuts. These were not donuts. They were full-bodied, take-no-prisoners, make-no-mistake-about-it, I-have-to-get-a-picture-of-this doughnuts. The dough was six feet away from me. Here’s the scene.

Doughnuts 1

Twedt bought nine doughnuts. Because I’m a man and obviously have better judgment and more experience than she does when it comes to things like doughnuts, I only bought one.

Then, under the influence of Ravalli doughnuts, the Twedt quotations (that should be tweeted) really began to flow.

I apologized for making a big doughnut mess in her car, which prompted:

“That’s what this car is for.”

Later, after she was clearly drunk on doughnuts:

“You can’t put a price on a good doughnut.”

I didn’t argue.

Drunken doughnut talk continued for nearly 50 miles. She began free associating to other doughnut purchases.

“The Walmart donuts are surprisingly good.”

I used some Carl Rogers reflective listening. Twedt went deeper.

“I don’t know why I bought the first one.”

And then she began, quite naturally, to share family of origin issues.

“My dad really likes donuts too.”

Maybe there was some unfinished business.

“I’m bringing him to Ravalli when he visits.”

Only so much doughnut therapy can get done on a single trip to Whitefish. We finally pulled into the parking lot for our 11:00am lunch meeting with an incredibly generous woman who is considering a substantial contribution to our Department of Counselor Education. Twedt handed her a bag of four doughnuts. I tried to warn the generous woman not to try to eat a whole doughnut without adequate preparation and then proved my point by not being able to finish my lunch . . . which was precisely the first time that had ever happened in 56 years.

We had a great lunch and conversation.

Then, on the way back to Missoula, due to the extra weight from the doughnuts, Twedt’s left rear tire started going flat and we had to stop in Kalispell to switch it out for the spare. Apparently luddites never check their tire tread and Twedt had been driving me up and down Highway 93 on completely bald tires.

We finally hit the road again and I felt safe because if we were hit by a blizzard and stuck in the car for a week, I knew we could survive because we still had four doughnuts in a greasy white bakery bag.

In the end, I had an amazing trip with Twedt, ate an amazing doughnut, helped Twedt work through her doughnut issues, met with an amazing woman for lunch, and was amazed to get back alive. Thanks Twedt—even though you’ll never see this.

Doughnuts 2

Personal Reflections, Writing

On Being or Becoming a Writer (Again)

Leave a comment

While I was taking notes on Mary Pipher’s “Writing to Change the World” book, a bug flew in my eye. It was at the precise moment I was typing the following quotation: “When we equivocate we lose an opportunity to build our identities as writers. If you are not doing it already, I advise you to learn to say you are a writer” (p. 76).

Shall I really say “I am a writer!” even if it doesn’t feel quite right?

Or should I be more honest and describe the complete situation by saying, “I am a writer who is trying to write, but I have a bug that just flew in my eye and that’s making it more difficult than it might otherwise be.”

Didn’t someone once say that honesty is the best policy? And isn’t there a story about George Washington honestly confessing that he chopped down a cherry tree that he had no particular business chopping down. Of course that story is a lie and as it turns out Betsy Ross didn’t really sew the first American flag, but she had some fairly effective promotional people who either thought she did or decided to lie on her behalf.

What if I just tell a microscopic white lie to myself? Is that a problem?

Or maybe I just need an agent who will lie willy-nilly on my behalf? I’ve sort of always wanted somebody who would do something will-nilly just for me.

After all, honesty will only take you so far and the only advice my father gave me about being married was that “You don’t have to always tell your wife EVERYTHING you’re thinking.” That’s good advice, except that it contradicts with what Carl Rogers said about maintaining a transparent relationship and how he learned the most from being completely honest with his wife about the things that were most difficult to talk about.

Wouldn’t it be true, however (this, I understand, is how attorneys like to begin questioning the person who has just taken the stand), that lying destroys relationships and can take you to prison where you might share a cell with Piper Kerman. Then again, she wrote a book (Orange is the New Black) that got made into a television show and that’s pretty cool.

It’s very difficult to find clean and straight answers upon which everyone agrees. I’ve noticed this and thought I should honestly articulate this observation.

When I’m doing counseling with young people who have anger problems or who are cutting or who are embracing a negative and unhelpful identity, I sometimes ask them to consider thinking differently about themselves. The technique is a little bit of a knock off of Alfred Adler’s Acting As-If. I don’t ask them to pretend or to tell themselves bald-faced lies, but instead to tell more of the complete hairy-faced narrative truth. For example, when a girl tells me she’s got a “terrible temper,” I suggest and implore and encourage her to capture the WHOLE DARN NARRATIVE and instead tell herself something like, “I believe I’ve had a terrible temper in the past, but I’m working on it.”

Pipher (not Piper) says I should learn to call myself a writer. Obviously that worked for her and she’s been immensely successful and now she’s sharing it as a writing strategy. But what if that doesn’t work so well for me? What if my mantra is that I’m a writer who’s got a bug in his eye and that darn bug is making it terribly difficult, but I’m working on it?

What if I prefer a different hat style?

Here’s what I like instead: “I am becoming a writer.”

I most definitely like that better. I am becoming is a better fit for my tentative always in flux and change and self-reflective in-moderation identity.

I am becoming a writer.

And I hope you are too.