Your Rainforest Mind

Support For The Excessively Curious, Creative, Smart & Sensitive


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Are You A Driven Perfectionist In A Slacker World?

photo courtesy of Andrew Branch, Unsplash

Angela is driven. At her job as a graphic designer and communications coordinator, she works 10-12 hour days, and some weekends. Her standards for her work are well beyond those of her colleagues, including the CEO of the organization. Coworkers depend on her to keep the company functioning but also resent her high expectations, her critiques of their writing and her evaluation of their less than adequate customer service.

Angela didn’t attend college. She was raised in a seriously dysfunctional family. It’s hard to understand how she knows what she knows, unless you realize that she has a rainforest mind: A mind that learns quickly and deeply whatever it finds appealing, fascinating or complicated. A heart that feels extreme empathy for humans, animals and plants.

Coworkers take advantage of Angela. Because her work is always of the highest quality and completed in less than half the time, she’s one person doing a two-three person job. Not only that: Workmates ask her to create invitations to their kids’ birthday parties and to design the programs for their Aunt Matilda’s half-sister’s memorial. In her spare time. For free. She does it because she can and because she can’t say ‘no.’

Angela is a driven perfectionist in a slacker world.

I tell her: “Just because you’re able to do it, doesn’t mean you have to do it. You have a right to set boundaries. To say ‘no.’ To have a life outside of your job.” But her extraordinary abilities, her empathy and her early trauma all tell her ‘no’ is not an option.

I tell her: “Feel your satisfaction-sometimes-joy in finding the perfect phrase and the most striking images. Understand that others may not notice or care. Feel your satisfaction-sometimes-joy anyway.” This is the healthy perfectionism that comes with a rainforest mind. Regular people may not understand it.

I tell her: “If you feel resentment, anger or extra stressed at your job, consider allowing some of your work to be less than extraordinary. Settle for excellent. Notice if you need to excel because it gives you joy or because you have to prove your worth. Or both.” If it’s unworthiness, it’s unhealthy perfectionism. You can thank your dysfunctional family for that. Your therapist can help you detach your sense of worth from your achievements.

Well, then. If you are, like Angela, a driven perfectionist in a slacker world, take heart. Find the places where your drive, idealism and high standards are appreciated and needed. (Your favorite struggling nonprofit? Your gifted kids? Your community garden? Your elderly neighbors?) Spend time in those places.

And, your coworker’s Aunt Matilda’s half-sister? I’m pretty sure she won’t mind if there aren’t any programs at her memorial.

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To my bloggEEs: Does Angela sound like you? Do you find yourself overworked and under-appreciated at your job, at school or at home? Are you a perfectionist? How do you manage your drive, high standards and expectations? How do make time to rest? And, if you’re wanting to improve your work environment , in spite of the slackers, and don’t know where to begin, try the folks at Rebels At Work for ideas and for a community of like-minds. And thank you for being here.


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Fifteen Quick Reminders To Help You Make It Through The ‘Holidaze’

photo courtesy of Jim Lukach, Flickr, CC

photo courtesy of Jim Lukach, Flickr, CC

(This post was first published on intergifted, a great site for gifted adults.)

1  You’re not too sensitive if you’re easily overwhelmed by the holiday muzak, the florescent lights, the crowds, the frenetic meaningless pace, the likely psychopathic Santa and the smell of stale popcorn at the shopping mall.

2  You’re not a failure as a human being if your siblings went to Stanford and are all doctors and have two and a half kids and you’re still wondering what to do when you grow up because you took a detour into drug treatment and psychotherapy because your soft heart and gentle spirit needed to heal.

3  You’re not lacking in empathy if you’re frustrated and irritated, well, OK, enraged by society’s focus on the status of having more and more stuff, the bigger the better, while they’re oblivious to the impact of said stuff.

4  You’re not socially inept or paranoid if you have to abruptly leave a gathering of people who seem happy and charming and delightful but who make your stomach ache because unbeknownst to your conscious mind, they’re really miserable.

5  You’re not an arrogant know-it-all if you choose to wrap the kids’ gifts in newspaper, or if you give your precocious nieces homemade light switch plates instead of Barbie dolls, or if you choose funding a homeless family over yet another plastic giraffe for your adorable nephew.

6  You’re not a bad daughter/son if you have mixed feelings about attending the family event and if you make a plan to leave early when your alcoholic relative starts to berate you about your political or religious beliefs or about why you didn’t go to Harvard when you had so much potential.

7  You are not being inauthentic if you consciously avoid certain topics with family members who you know will react with anger or misunderstanding to your attempt to explain, say, your logical reasons for changing your college major for the fifth time.

8  You’re not too persnickety if you start your own holiday rituals and don’t allow your toddler to watch reality TV, use your iPad, or learn how to operate a cell phone.

9  You’re not a failure as a parent if your holiday meal is a flop, if your kids throw their biggest tantrums ever just when the grandparents arrive, if you still haven’t gotten your hair cut or trained your dog not to beg for food.

10  You’re not an oddball if you question the traditions, religion or the obsession with television that organizes your extended family members. Well, maybe you are an oddball in that regard but there are times when oddballs are needed. This might be one of those times.

11  You’re not rude and obsessive if you are still avoiding eating the jello marshmallow carrot salad that your Aunt Gracie always makes.

12  You’re not too dramatic if you cry when your relatives tease you, well, OK, bully you, because you’re following yet another career path, you’ve stopped straightening your hair and you’re still single.

13  You’re not too intense if you can’t totally enjoy the holiday because people around the globe are suffering, the ice caps are melting and you’re distracted by your need to find and manifest your purpose on the planet.

14  You’re not too idealistic if you believe that it’s still possible for a transformation to occur where the peoples of the world embrace compassion over fear.

15  You’re not alone if you dread the stresses of the holiday season and look forward to the end of said season. And, you’re not wrong if you understand the following to be true: You are successfully sensitive, effervescently empathetic, indescribably intense, awesomely authentic, prudently persnickety, illustriously idealistic, and resplendently rainforest-minded. (And, hey, when you get a chance, could you send me the recipe for Aunt Gracie’s jello marshmallow carrot salad?)

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To my bloggEEs: Tell us what the holiday season is like for you. If you have coping strategies for the challenging times, let us know what they are. And, if you have totally joyous experiences during the holiday season, we love you, too! Oh, and the 16th reminder, my book would make a great gift for your teens, your friends, your parents, your therapist, your sensitive Uncle Phil, and your sweet self.


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If I’m So Smart, Why Do I Need Psychotherapy? Part Two

photo courtesy of Cheryl Winn-Boujnida, Unsplash, CC

photo courtesy of Cheryl Winn-Boujnida, Unsplash, CC

Things are looking kinda crazy these days. It’s hard to know what to think, what to do, or how to be. There are so many issues worldwide that need attention. So many. What should super-sensitive, empathetic, insightful, emotional humans do?

Well. Being the obsessed-with-psychotherapy psychotherapist that I am, you can guess what I’m about to say. Hang in there with me.

What if you start. With yourself. And your family. What if you take some time to examine your very own fears, doubts and despair. What if you take a trip into your past to understand the legacy your dysfunctional family handed to you. Locate your true Self. And pull her/him out from under the rubble. Think about it. If all humans would recover the self-acceptance, compassion and creativity that was smooshed or buried or broken or clobbered during those early years, might we create a path to a better world?

Heck, yeah.

Now, I know that what I’m asking isn’t easy. It takes great courage to make this journey. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And, in case you’re wondering: Examining the multiple ways you were clobbered isn’t about blaming your parents willy-nilly or irreverently dismantling the lovely coping strategies you’ve so cleverly designed or slashing open old wounds so that you bleed for years all over your so-impractical white sofa. No. It’s not that.

It is, however, about understanding what happened so that you can put the puzzle pieces together and answer the questions that have plagued you for years. Questions about your fears and doubts and despair. Questions like: If I’m so smart, why am I scared all the time?  If I’m so smart, why are my relationships so difficult? If I’m so smart, why do I feel like a worthless crazy catastrophizing ne’er-do-well? Questions like that.

You may say: But I do understand what happened and that hasn’t changed anything. I know. That’s because it’s not just about intellectual understanding. Although that’s the place to start.  It’s also about a safe supported grieving process. An opportunity to process the sadness, anger, shame and regrets that live in your broken heart. An opportunity to find and love those child parts of you that have been abandoned and trampled.

By the way? This is a big deal.

How big? Well. You ‘re stopping the legacy of dysfunction in your family line. Handed down through generations. The dysfunction stops with you. That big.

Not only that. In a deep therapeutic process, you’re healing your portion of the psycho-spiritual web. Where we’re all connected. So it’s not even just your family line. It’s all of us.

I mean it.

And just when you thought that was quite enough, there’s more. I am not making this up. Along with the sweet child parts that you rescue from the abyss, you will be astonished by spurts of creativity and sparks of intuition. (the voice of your true Self!) Expansion of your softened heart. An even greater compassion for others. Energy and inspirations.

And there’s your path. Better world?

Indeed.

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To my bloggEEs: If you’re wondering how to find a good therapist who understands your rainforest mind look here. If you need to help your therapist understand your giftedness, show him/her this. And if you didn’t grow up in a dysfunctional family, we still love you and you can skip this post! Thank you for reading and sharing. Please tell us your thoughts about psychotherapy and other ways you’ve found to heal from past trauma, abuse and dysfunction.


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How Can Sensitive Souls Change the World?

photo courtesy of Teddy Kelley, Unsplash, CC

photo courtesy of Teddy Kelley, Unsplash, CC

“We stand on the threshold of a great unknown. Individually and collectively, we launch into an uncertain future—at once, both perilous and saturated with possibility. Our accustomed, culturally-determined roles and identities are inadequate to navigate the sea change of our time. Our collective journey requires a radical shift in the human relationship with the community of all life—a cultural transformation so profound that future humans might regard it as an evolution of consciousness. Safe passage requires each of us to offer our full magnificence to the world.” ~Animas Valley Institute

How do you offer your “full magnificence” to the world?

Because now would be a great time to do such a thing. Don’t you agree?

I have a few ideas:

You have to believe that you have magnificence.

Yes, I know. That won’t be easy. Maybe it feels impossible. But I know that you’ve got it. I’m sure of it. And somewhere, buried deep inside, you know it, too. You’ll need to find a way to dive into your heart or into your soul or into wherever your magnificence lives, and touch it. Gently. Tenderly.

All you need is to get a glimpse of it. For starters. A teensy weensy glimpse.

Perhaps you can find it through yoga or mindfulness practices or painting or dancing or music or acupuncture or martial arts or excursions in nature or prayer or shamanic journeying or poetry or journaling or reading or gazing at the night sky, or Reiki, or running, or watching your child sleep, or psychotherapy or bungee jumping. Or some combination of these or other things.

It could take a while. But it’ll be worth it. Trust me on this.

Once you get a teensy weensy glimpse, you’ll want to expand your connection. To do this, you’ll need to understand that: Your magnificence is something you are, not something you do. And: recognizing your magnificence is not the same as conceit or arrogance or self-centeredness or grandiosity. It’s actually the opposite. It’s finding that place within you that’s all about love. Love and compassion. Love for yourself: your mistakes, your failures, your successes,  your disabilities, your persnicketiness, your idealism, your sensitivities, your intuitions, your overexcitabilities, your obsessions, your perfectionism, your loneliness, and your bad hair days.

And love for your family, your community, your world, and your planet.

I know. I’m asking a lot.

If you’ve grown up in a dysfunctional family with chainsaw relatives, for example, you might feel less than magnificent.

If you were bullied in school or teased for being too sensitive or too curious or too everything, you might feel less than magnificent.

If you don’t fit into the “acceptable” ethnic group or race or sexual orientation or body size or religion or personality or age, you might feel less than magnificent.

So, here’s another idea. This comes from an exercise shared by Jean Houston in a workshop I attended many years ago: Take a quiet moment and create an image of your Wise Self (some people call it your future self). Write and/or draw and describe him/her. In detail. Then feel into him/her deeply with all of your senses.  Picture him/her standing in front of you. What does s/he have to tell you? Then step into him/her and feel that Wise Self in your body. Breathe slowly and deepen your connection. Use all of your senses. Stay with the feeling and notice if s/he has any more messages for you. Know that you can reconnect with your Wise Self at any time. It will get easier with practice.

Once you’ve met and believe in your magnificence (remember this is a process!), I’m betting that it will tell you how to share it with the world. But we can talk about that in a future post!

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To my bloggEEs: Let us know your thoughts. Your comments make this blog so much richer. We all appreciate hearing about your feelings and experiences so please share! What did your Wise Self tell you? And for those of you who’ve met your magnificence and are offering it to the world, please share your strategies and guidance with us! And thanks to Animas Institute for the beautiful quote.

Oh, and, if you’re reading my book, let us know how it’s going.

 

 

 

 


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Giftedness, Therapy, and Your Dysfunctional Family — Diving Into the Abyss

photo courtesy of Frances Gunn, Unsplash, CC

photo courtesy of Frances Gunn, Unsplash, CC

What happens to your sensitivity, empathy and intellect when you grow up in a seriously dysfunctional family? How does your perceptive mind and open heart survive the alcoholic parent or the emotional abuse? What beliefs or patterns set up in your childhood follow you into adulthood? When is it time to find a good psychotherapist and dive into the abyss?

In this post, I’ll begin to answer these questions. (more in future posts) And, disclaimer, I’m only speaking to my experience with my particular clients and myself. OK? I don’t speak for all psychotherapy everywhere. (But you knew that.)

Here’s what I see: Even though you’re super-sensitive, emotional and aware so that you can be easily hurt, you’re also terribly resilient because you’re super-sensitive, emotional and aware. You’re likely quite affected if you grew up in a chainsaw family system. And yet, there’s also something gorgeous-powerful deep inside you that was untouched. Your self-esteem is what’s been damaged. You have a distorted sense of your true self. That may look like lack of self-confidence, getting into abusive relationships, self-hatred, underachieving, anxiety and depression.

As a child, you were so vulnerable, that you had to believe what your parents told you. It was inevitable that you’d misinterpret their dysfunction to mean that something was wrong with you. Even though you were smart, the intensity of parental shame, fear, rage and who-knows-what got transmitted to you. So this is what needs to be dismantled: Your misunderstanding of who you are.

And that requires diving into the abyss. Poet Adrienne Rich calls it Diving into the Wreck.

Yeah. Abyss. Wreck. Oh boy. You’ll want a guide. Someone who’s been in their own Abyss and is very familiar with it. Someone who has explored their Wreck and found the buried treasure hidden inside.

It can be a scary proposition. It can take time. Even though you’re a fast learner, this process is slow. You’ll get impatient and think you’re doing it wrong. You’ll have times when you’re feeling overwhelming sadness. You’ll wonder why the hell you thought that hanging out in an Abyss was such a grand idea.

But, eventually, you’ll find that it’s worth the time, money, and tears. You’ll notice changes in your inner and outer worlds. You’ll start to discover your gorgeous-powerful self.

That doesn’t mean that the Wreck will disappear, by the way. You may fall in every now and then. Get lost. Flounder. Cry. Shriek. But it’ll be less scary, more familiar, smaller. You’ll add a cozy chair or hang a piece of art.

And, while you’re there. Well. You’ll find the jewels.

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To my bloggEEs: I wish I could be your therapist. But I’m only licensed to counsel in Oregon. But here’s something that you can give to the therapist that you find. It will help him/her understand your giftedness. And, of course, you can give her/him a copy of my book! Let us know in the comments how you’ve dealt with growing up in a dysfunctional family. And thank you for being here and for your courage. (and for putting up with my on-going and shameless self-promotion)

 

 


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Gifted Women With Gifted Kids — Exhilarating or Exhausting?

photo from Lars Plougmann, Flickr, CC

photo from Lars Plougmann, Flickr, CC

What happens when a gifted woman has a gifted child? Is it a match made in heaven? Is it Exhilarating? Exhausting? Terrifying?

Yes.

“As a mom of a gifted child, we walk a lonely, difficult and heartbreaking road on our unwavering quest to help our gifted children navigate through a world that does not understand them, within a society who often envies and resents them. Exhausted, we pray our gifted child will just come out on the other end with enough self-esteem to be able to live a happy, successful adult life.”  Celi Trepanier, Crushing Tall Poppies 

“I was a lonely and rejected gifted kid, and seeing the same thing happen to my kids is awful.” Mrs. Warde, Sceleratus Classical Academy

“We have a LOT of emotional OEs, and my youngest and I are like clones. She feeds off mine, I feed off hers, my 6 year old turns hers on in a different direction and my husband goes to hide in a closet until we are finished…” Nicole Linn, Through a Stronger Lens

Lonely, heartbreaking, emotional.

Chances are, if you have a rainforest mind, you also feel an enormous sense of responsibility for raising this child well. In fact, your multiple sensitivities, rage to learn and intellectual abilities can combine to produce a relentless drive to be the best mother possible. At all costs.

This does not always turn out well. Particularly the “at all costs” part. Especially if the cost is you.

Rainforest-minded moms have told me that the love they feel for their children is astonishing and extraordinary. At the same time, in the same instant, they can feel overwhelmed, bored, frustrated and angry. And, of course, guilty. You familiar with guilt? Guilt. For feeling overwhelmed, bored, frustrated and angry.

Now, I suspect that all moms might have these feelings. The difference, though, may be in the depth and breadth. You could call it The More-ness Syndrome. You. Your kid. More emotion. More questions. More everything.

Then there’s the Unending Curiosity Factor. Your child is likely ravenous when it comes to learning. You may have your own insatiable curiosity. The energy that it takes to support your child, though, may mean that your interests get pushed aside and your intellect gets malnourished.

You with a malnourished intellect? Well. It isn’t pretty.

And what about The Schooling Conundrum? If your child has been bullied at school or has been frustrated academically, then you might find yourself spending countless hours dealing with educators or homeschooling. Not only that. If your experiences as a child in school were similar, then, your reactions to your child’s pain might be hard to manage. You might be unaware that you’re being triggered by familiar situations from your past. If so, your intense reactivity may frighten you.

This is not to mention the very real possibility that your relationship with your own mother was challenging. If there was abuse of any sort or neglect or serious dysfunction, then, mothering your own child might be tricky. You might hear your own mother’s voice coming out of your mouth and be horrified. The good news is that, in my experience with clients, even those who’ve been severely abused have been able to parent differently. I believe that a resilience, maybe even a spiritual strength, in their rainforest-y selves allows them to access their tender deep compassion in spite of an inadequate role model.

So, what can you do? How do you find ways to manage and enjoy this exhilarating, exhausting and terrifying journey?

Thanks to the internet and social media there are a gazillion resources now available for moms. Enough to seriously overwhelm your sensitive soul, especially if you’re an introvert. But, I’ll narrow it down for you.

photo from Joshua Aguilar, Flickr, CC

photo from Joshua Aguilar, Flickr, CC

Along with the blogging moms I quoted at the beginning of this post, there are other mothers of gifted children writing and sharing ideas and resources. You can find them here and here. There are also a few small presses that specialize in publishing for parents of gifted children. Three that I recommend are here, here and here. A couple of moms I know recently published a book about the benefits of Minecraft. Could be beneficial for the geekish among you.

Finally, there’s this. A song for you. Especially for those of you who didn’t grow up with a loving mother. From Sinead O’Connor. This is to mother you.

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My dear bloggEEs: Please tell us about your experiences mothering your rainforest-minded children. Let us know what resources you use for support. How do you take care of yourself? And fathers, you can chime in, too! We’d love to know what you’re thinking.

 

 

 


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Shame and Resilience–Chainsaws in Your Childhood

You are like the rain forest. Highly sensitive, colorful, intense, and complicated. Vulnerable to chainsaws. And the chainsaws are everywhere. They’re the coworkers who can’t keep up with you. The relatives who think you’re too sensitive. The teachers who want you to stifle your effervescence. The friends who disappear when you forget to modify your vocabulary. The neighbors who paint their houses orange.

But what if the chainsaws lived with you? What if they were your parents?

photo by Dave Young creative commons flickr

photo by Dave Young creative commons flickr

Being a psychotherapist, I know a lot about chainsaw parents. It’s my specialty. And like many counselors, I studied them in my own childhood.

If, in your family, there was abuse, neglect, shame, rage or fear, in some form or another, you suffered. You were changed by it. You found ways to cope by blaming yourself or parenting your parents or escaping into addictions. You found ways to cope by getting good grades in school or getting bad grades in school. You found ways to cope by reading Lord of the Rings twelve times. You found ways to cope by hiding your radiance and shutting down access to your true Self.

And now you’re living with the results. Anxiety, self-doubt, depression, shame. Oddly enough, it doesn’t show. Right? You’ve learned how to cope so well that you’ve managed to put together a good life. Maybe you have a fulfilling career. Maybe you have a compassionate partner. Maybe you’re raising your children in a loving, safe, trustworthy home. Maybe you didn’t become a serial killer.

This is what your rainforest mind has done for you. It’s made you resilient. Because even with all of the shame, fear and self-deprecation, your rainforest-y soul kept you off of Skid Row.

Now, I’m not saying that you don’t need therapy. There’s definitely work to be done. Lots of work. Good therapy or some other deep healing modality can make an enormous difference in how you view who you are. And how you live.

What I’m saying is that just because you’ve been resilient, doesn’t mean the chainsaw parents weren’t impactful. You may be minimizing the dysfunction you experienced because you turned out OK.

Don’t do that.

Instead, I’d recommend that you–

jinterwas flickr creative commons

jinterwas flickr creative commons

1. Thank your rainforest mind for its fabulousness.

2. Find a therapist who knows his or her way around the jungle.

3. Recognize that it’s now safe to be your radiant Self.

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To my bloggEEs: I know that it may be hard to be your bright shining Self, for numerous reasons. In future posts, I’ll write about that and help you sort through the obstacles. I also know that this post may not apply to you. I’m writing about my personal experiences with gifted adults and there’s great variety within that population. Not everyone comes from a seriously dysfunctional family! So, don’t be discouraged if this post or another one isn’t quite right for you. OK?  In the comments, let us know your thoughts and questions.

 

This blog is part of a collection of posts by various writers on the topic of giftedness in adults. To read more, click on the image below.1546415_10204610136200684_2591280822836276826_n