Psycological Health

As I grow older and hopefully wiser, I have realized how important our psychological health is to us. We don't pay enough attention to our overall emotional health. Instead, we get caught up in how we are feeling. Having studied CBT, cognitive behavioral therapy, I feel better equipped to deal with my personal state of being. I also think I have become more adept at interacting with others.

CBT begins with the premise that stimuli in the form of events, sounds, and smells trigger us to feel something, an emotion. That emotion then affects what we think and what we do in response to the stimuli. The extent of the effect can be a problem for most people. With every emotion we experience, chemicals are released in our brains, and in essence, we become high with that emotion. Thus, one can become addicted to an emotion just like one can become addicted to a drug. That's a pretty scary realization.

In CBT, an event is also called a trigger because it triggers emotions, thoughts, beliefs, and actions. If we follow the chain of actions and successive reactions, we really want to focus on what happens after the trigger. Patterns of beliefs, emotions, and behaviors typically follow the same triggers. For example, a person enters a kitchen, finds a mate has left something out of place, and addresses the issue with the mate. A psychologically healthy person will remind the mate of the neglect and encourage the mate to rectify the trespass. In contrast, a psychologically unhealthy person will first get mad and then attack the mate for the neglect. The degree to which the person responds negatively to the trigger must be observed and rationalized. When a trigger causes an intense emotion that is in misproportion with the trigger, problems in personal health and interpersonal relationships will arise.

I chose the above example because it is a scenario that happens frequently within any household. We have all observed a spouse attack the other or a parent attack a child in a unhealthy or excessive manner. So, we have to ask ourselves how do we react and think when we face that same scenario. Do we behave positively or negatively?

Now, we don't have to be experts to practice the principles of CBT. We simply have to cultivate the practice of awareness. We must become aware of the triggers that affect us negatively, and we must become aware of the emotions, the thoughts, the beliefs, and the behaviors that result from them. Moreover, we should ask ourselves a simple question. Was our negative reaction an appropriate response to the trigger? I'm not advocating that we should never get angry or sad; emotions are appropriate and essential parts of our experience. We must learn to experience our emotions in ways that minimize the risk of harm to ourselves and our important relations.

The hard part is addressing the excessive behavior in others such as our spouse, our children, and our friends. The best advice I have been given is to observe the event and address the behavior at an appropriate time with the person who committed the act. We tell that person that we just want them to consider what we saw and what we thought about that behavior. The goal is to avoid an argument. We can't allow for explanations and rationalizations. We have to cultivate the ability to communicate. We want our observations to cause personal reflection. We don't want them to be a new trigger for the bad behavior. Yes, this is easier said than done, but it is worth our best efforts.

Autism

Today is Autism Awareness day. I know this because my sister told me; she knows it because her son, Michelangelo has autism. Most of us know someone with autism. We know someone because the number of cases diagnosed for this generation has become a statistical anomaly. I forget the current ratio, but it is alarming.

To commemorate the day, I would like to share my experience with "Micro" as we call him, my sister, and autism. Although Micro is burdened with the challenge of autism, I neither pity him nor his mother and father. Rather, we accept him for who he is, and we celebrate his personality and his talents. Micro doesn't know it yet, he's too young, but the best resource he has is my sister, Dana. She is a special person. She is smart, tenacious, logical, and loving. These attributes allow her to be of great utility to Micro. One of the things that sets her apart from too many parents of an autistic child is her behavior. Her behavior is worth noting because she focuses on what she can do for him; not on what she feels for him. In the end, its what we do to raise our children, not how we feel about them that makes the difference.

Micro is awesome. We say that all the time, and we mean it. He's now in the second grade, and while he may not be the best student, he is very smart. Because of his autism, school and its social aspects are a difficult environment for him. He is in a mainstream class, and what success he has there is dependent upon his full-time aide, and his teacher's ability to adapt the curriculum to Micro's capabilities. His present teacher is struggling with this, but that's another story. Micro can do things most kids his age can't. He has known his way around a pc like few people. When you observe him using a PC, you notice how naturally he has mastered any application he chooses to play with. That's the thing, he plays with the applications. Most people struggle to use them. He has an almost perfect memory; he can remember facts with a facility that scares you. He loves Luca, my dachshund, and Stosh, my brother's dog, and talks about them all the time. He loves his cousins and his family very much, but he expresses his love in ways we have had to adapt to. You see, autism is a social challenge. It affects the way a person is able to interact with others. So, while you may want to have a conversation with him as you would with most children, he is reluctant to indulge you. And when you want to hug him or kiss him because he is so cute, he tends to rebuff your physical affection. Not that I want to come across as an expert, but the root word in autism comes from the greek "auto," in greek afto. The root auto expresses the meaning of self as in I, me, and mine. Those who are autistic are "selfish," I mean to say that they are more aware of themselves than they are of others. To varying degrees, those with autism struggle in dealing with others. That's as clear and simple as I can put it.

Let's get back to my sister, Dana. She impresses me like few people can. I'm impressed with her acceptance of his autism, and her ability provide for him the things that are most beneficial to him. She has had to endure many difficulties obtaining the proper treatment and resources he needs to overcome his challenges. She has had to become a behavioral expert, and she has had to become adept in enforcing the laws which grant him the services he is entitled to. The frustration she has experienced in dealing with his school would be enough to send anyone to the therapist. She's tough, and she doesn't back down from a challenge; she never has. He's lucky to have her as a mom. I don't worry so much about what will become of Micro because I know he has her to guide him through life. Oh, did I mention that my sister is also an advertising executive. You will not be surprised to know she excels at her job too. She's also a great wife, just ask my brother-in-law, Mike. In the end, the best thing about her is that she is my sister. I talk to her everyday, and I look forward to talking to her tomorrow.

So, to commemorate the day, I have shared a little bit of my experience with autism, with Micro, and with Dana. I can't wait to visit them next week in L.A.

Fit at My Age?

Okay, I did it.  I got back into shape.  At my age, getting back into shape can be an intimidating and fruitless challenge.  Nevertheless, I have done it, and I don't want to go back from whence I just came.

Just a few months ago, I was in pain, over-weight, and unfit.  Like many people my age, life had taken its toll on my fitness and well-being.  Marriage, the kids, and poor eating habits all played their role in my downfall.  When I compare my recent state of poor fitness to the god-like fitness of my youth, I observe an obvious contrast.  All throughout my youth, I had genetics and a great athletic career as a source for my great fitness.  I played soccer from high school through my division I college career at Saint Peter's to my semi-pro career with the NY Cosmos and the clubs in Brooklyn.  During this period, my athletic endeavors keep me fit as the proverbial fiddle.

The change came when I got married, pursued a career, and became a father.  I left athletics cold turkey.  Apart from the occasional pick-up soccer game, golf outing (not a real sport), or day ski trip, my days as an athlete were over.  Thus, I found myself overweight, weaker, and hard to look at in a bathing suit, at least to my standards.

So, let's get to the good part.  I'm fit again; almost as fit as I was when I was 21.  It hasn't really been that hard to get back in shape depending on your definition of hard.  I found the solution to my fitness problem.  Don't worry, I'll tell you about that later.  First, I did try many times to get back in to shape.  I tried to run, but I hate running.  I tried yoga, and I became a flexible chubby guy.  I joined gyms, and I wasted my time and money. I even tried diet fads and supplements.  Nothing worked.

Then, I found P90X.  What follows will sound like an ad.  I don't care, it works.  I had seen the infomercial many times on television, and said to myself, "I should get that."  For about a year, I considered it.  One Saturday afternoon while I was supposed to be helping my wife clean the house, the infomercial came on again.  I called my wife into the room, and after a few minutes of watching she said, "We gotta get that."  We did, and we're both fit.  

I often wonder why P90X works.  It could be the science behind it.  The muscle confusion idea they profess in the commercial.  In the end, it is a resource.  My wife and I do it every day now which means we have made the commitment to fitness.  Also, we have chosen a healthy lifestyle.  We exercise, and we eat sensibly.  The results have been surprising.

To see myself with my shirt off now brings a smile to my face and a boost my self-confidence.  I can see definition and muscles in places that quite frankly may have never been there before-the abs and the obliques.  Moreover, I tear it up on the soccer field.  Once again as in my youth, few people can hang with me physically.  Granted, I play in and over 40 league, but its all relative in the end.  Despite a day of soreness, I recover quickly and can't wait for the next game.

I haven't even finished the full 90 days, but I will.  Better yet, I have learned a valuable lesson-don't go back to the old ways.  If I have learned anything, I have learned to practice wisdom.  To practice wisdom from here on means that I need to maintain my present lifestyle.  I have vowed to keep exercising and to continue to eat sensibly.  Time will tell, and I'll keep you posted.

The Beautiful Game

Soccer is the beautiful game.  Certainly it has its ugly moments, as long as human behavior is observed, ugly moments will exist.  The Brazilians call it the beautiful game for good reason.  They play the game beautifully, artistically.  Other countries play the game physically or tactically.  The Brazilians go for the beauty.

You don't have to be Brazilian to play beautifully, but you do have to play artistically.  It's not easy because the artistic aspect has to come from somewhere deep within you.  There are players who are known for their artistic play, the great Pele, Beckenbauer, and my favorite, Maradonna.

I could go on with the list, but that is not my point. Each of the players I have listed have given soccer fans moments to remember.  They have inspired many of us.  At 45 years old, I still play for those moments during a game when I create something remotely related to the skills I have seen them display.  I have had my great moments; I want more.

I have seen Pele perform his bicycle kick.  My jaw dropped the first time I saw that. I grew up watching Beckenbauer at Giants Stadium when he played for the Cosmos.  He was always exceptionally smooth and graceful.  Of them all, I value Maradonna the most.  I have a dvd an Italian friend sent me of Maradonna, and I never get tired of it.  The dvd contains countless replays of Maradonna's artistic moments.  He blows my mind every time.  Many people considered him to be extraterrestrial when he played.  Take the goal he scored against England during the World Cup in Mexico.  If you haven't seen it, don't talk to me about soccer.  That goal still is the greatest ever in World Cup history.

The best thing about that goal, I learned from watching the dvd.  That goal was actually his second attempt at immortality.  Months earlier he performed practically the exact same run at Wembly Stadium in a friendly against England.  Yes, he had a thing for the English.  He did not score on that run though.  Instead, he pushed the ball inches wide of the far post before he reached the keeper.  Maradonna retells that after the game his brother asked him why he had not dribbled the keeper.  Maradonna was a little insulted that his brother would suggest this as he felt he had done his best.  Well he didn't do his best.  We all saw his best when he took his brother's advice and dribbled the keeper during the World Cup.  Not only was that his best, it has been everyone's best.  No arguments.

I really could go on and on about Maradonna.  I should write a book.  It would be hard for me to write well about his artistry though.  I know my limits. Like all great art, Maradonna's art has to be seen.  Better yet, it has to be experienced.  I have experienced his artistry in person.  I saw him play in Naples in a UEFA cup semi-final against...I can't remember the other team.  He has that effect.  

I will never forget the atmosphere at that game; I experienced sensory overload every moment of that four-day trip.  Naples, the people, the food; you just can't find that combination anywhere else.  The Neopolitan fans left a lasting impression upon me.  With their songs and game commentary, they awed me.  Their passion was un-paralleled during the Maradonna epoch.  They loved him as if he were one of them.  He was when he played there.  Napoli won that game, and Mardonna was the best player on the field.  He always was.

He knew he was the best.  Before each game in the warm up, he would try to intimidate the other team and that team's fans while his team would warm up.  Maradonna would go off on his own and play with the ball.  The skills he demonstrated while he juggled were performed with his intent of saying, "I can do this, and none of you can."  The level of skill he displayed and the number of times he could repeat a skill place him at a level with no equivalent.  He was as the Italians would say "fuori classe," beyond class.  While most players, even the great ones, and attempt to master the ball, he succeeded.  He mastered the ball.  He was in complete control of it.  

If you couldn't see the beauty in the game he played, how could you see the beauty in anything.  I can't comprehend those who criticize the beautiful game.  You're either an intellectual moron, or simply a moron, if you can't see the beauty in Maradonna's game.  If you can't see the beauty in soccer, then you choose not to see.  To you, I say open your eyes, jackass, watch the game!