Diane, a client of mine*, came in with a fist full of problems the other day. She began our session with a description of all the difficulties she was having with her mother. As she continued to describe the intrusiveness of her mother, and the escalating conflict, I gently interrupted her.
Diane, you are telling me a “problem saturated story.”  This is language I recently learned, and it sums up how we often tell our stories, or look at our lives.

The problems or negative events fill up the screen. We begin to hear and see what matches our problem, and we disregard what doesn’t fit. 

In Diane’s case, her mother is over- involved.  There is an issue. But she is seeing every aspect of her relationship with her mother through that lens. She doesn’t have a larger perspective.

Some theorists have called this being able to be an “observer” – stepping outside the situation and getting a view that is separate, not enmeshed. Others call it “being on the balcony” where you can imagine yourself looking down on your life as if it was a play that you can look at from a distance.

At first Diane resisted. She didn’t want to let go of her perspective – or her sense of being wronged. But we tried making the shift. She pictured an ornate balcony as if she was at the opera. In her mind’s eye she could see herself looking down at her mother and herself talking and arguing on the stage. She expected to see her mother’s controlling attitude and her resistance. But she was surprised to instead see her mother trying to reach out to her and she was backing away.

From another point of view her mother was not intruding but trying to get close as Diane retreated. 

Having another point of view helped her let go of the problem saturated perspective to a wider view. This also helped Diane think and feel a little differently about her relationship with her mother.

I tell you this story because we can do the same thing with our disease. We see our lives as “saturated’ with the problem of pain or of limitation. It is difficult to get up on the balcony, or step outside our usual point of view. 

But what if you tried it?

Imagine a comfortable seat that overlooks your life as you are living it. What might you notice? Perhaps there are more people on stage than you realized – friends, family, neighbors, CreakyJoints companions, your physician, your favorite nurse, the person at the gym who always smiles at you, there are many many people around.

What else do you see? Maybe your belief is that you are always struggling, but never getting enough done. From the balcony you witness yourself completing remarkable activities – your work, taking care of the daily business at home, managing children, pets, volunteer activities, getting exercise, doing multiple doctors’ appointments, and even having time for dinner with friends. How do I do it all you can wonder with amazement!

Broadening your perspective allows you to loosen your grip on the idea that your interpretation is the only truth. In reality, all of us just “interpret”. We notice what fits our perception, and discount whatever does not. From the balcony we can notice new information that doesn’t “fit” with our set perspective. We can be more flexible and open to different information and novel interpretations.

For any of us with joint problems, flexibility is a good thing, and a two way process. The more flexible you can be in your thinking, the more that helps your joints (and vice versa of course but that’s another column). It isn’t easy to let go of an idea or an interpretation that this is how it should be, or this is what must happen, but when we soften and give ourselves some room, wonderful things can happen.

*Not my client’s real name or problem. A composite identity and issue used to illustrate the article while keeping my clients anonymous.

While browsing through an article entitled "Perspective: Searching for Balance" in the Harvard Divinity School Bulletin, I came across an idea that intrigued me:  the importance of middle ground.

The author, Kathryn Dodgson, quotes a Nigerian writer, Chinua Achebe. Achebe writes that he is fascinated by the middle ground -- "It is neither the origin of things nor the last things; it is aware of a future to head into and a past to fall back on; it is the home of doubt and indecision, of suspension of disbelief, of make-believe, of playfulness, of the unpredictable, of irony."

My thinking was stimulated by the invitation to consider a  "middle ground" or middle way.  That idea is so out of favor in a culture of extremes.  Political and economic fortunes ride a roller coaster of extremes.  Religious convictions are either fanatical or absent.  We are encouraged to believe in absolutes in relationships, career choices and, of course, in regard to health.  We are considered either healthy or sick, strong or weak, flaring or in remission.

Yet isn't our reality more complicated than that?  None of us are in just one place.

Achebe, in his collection of essays, The Education of a British-Protected Child, writes that his people, the Igbo, prefer not singularity but duality.  Wherever Something Stands, Something Else Will Stand Beside It.  Isn't that a perfect description of life with illness?

We may see this most clearly in our fear -- on good days we are often only too aware that our joint disease Stands Close By.  It is difficult to believe in the singularity of health once chronic illness has struck.

But the reverse is also true -- and here is where we can miss something important.  You have a day where you only feel fatigue and aches.  It may seem that illness is the only reality.  But if you allow yourself to see your body in a larger context, you recognize that your health is also present -- it Stands Beside your fatigue and pain.

The middle ground, the middle way is a reminder that we are never really on one shore or the other -- we are all navigating back and forth, weaving several strands together in our lives.  One of the strands is the illness, one of the strands is our radiant health, one of the strands is pain, one of the strands is energy, and on and on it goes.

You may be wondering, how can this idea aid your daily living?

If you have the mental habit of "either/or" thinking, it can help to shade in a middle ground.  When you ask yourself "How am I feeling today?" -- go beyond "good" or "lousy."  Well, I have some pain in my knee, and the sun is shining on my head -- so there is some pain and some warmth and relaxation.

Look for the Middle Way, not just the extremes, and value it.  We can live in that place -- there is room to embrace more of life, and room for things to happen.  Mystery lives in the middle, as do miracles and possibilities.  This is where communication and community dwell -- where we join hands and hearts.

I look forward to meeting you there.

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Last weekend I had the great opportunity to meet Sara Nash (from the Single Gal's Guide to RA blog).

She is as fun and funny in person as she is on her blog.  We spent time talking about dating and creating relationships, both romantic and other.  Sara shared her experiences, and some heartfelt questions.

In honor of St. Valentine's Day, I will pass along some of the wisdom and humor we gathered together.

Loving and Being Loved is an Important and Essential Part of Life.

It can be tempting to believe that it's "just not worth the effort" to extend yourself and create some meaningful relationships.  When you don't feel well, or perhaps you see yourself as damaged, or compromised, it is also a temptation to believe you're not worth it.

Neither of those beliefs is accurate.

Finding someone to love -- and being willing to let yourself be loved -- is one of the greatest gifts we can receive or share.  It can take some intention, some willingness to risk, and a dash of humor, but a loving relationship is possible -- and incredibly nourishing.

Commit Yourself to the Process.

Relationships don't "just happen."

There is often some tricky trial and error.

Sara and some others at our meeting talked about some "off" experiences -- dates who didn't "get" her, or who left because of the diagnosis of RA.

Well, isn't that their loss????

It's no fun to feel rejected, but sometimes these experiences are the only way to sort the keepers from the not-so-good ones.

Then it comes back to your own confidence -- that you are a gutsy, interesting, many-faceted prize.

You are more than your diagnosis -- it doesn't define you, and it is not the most important part of your self-understanding.

It is piece of your life, a shade of your color, but not your dominant hue.

You may have some inner work to do to know you are lovable and have a lot to give -- and if I'm talking to you, get started!

You may have work to do to put your intention out in the world, and put yourself in the path of relationships.  This requires some planning and some effort, but this is also doable.

Committing to the process is a good place to get started.

Manage the Unpredictable.

That sounds like a contradiction -- how can we manage what isn't known?

With a chronic disease -- that has fatigue and pain as unwelcome companions -- learning to manage and plan for the unseen circumstances can help provide a cushion of time, energy, and space.

As Sara said, "When you have a chronic disease, you learn you have to be very well organized."

That's part of it -- and preparing for contingencies is the other part.

Do you have a quick three- or four-sentence description of your illness, if you would need to explain to someone why you take pills, or why you walk more slowly?

Have you practiced some generic cover lines for times when you don't want to disclose?  If you would need to end a date, or chose an activity that is a little less strenuous than a mountain hike, you don't need to over explain or make yourself feel more vulnerable.

Everybody gets the flu, and many folks don't like to hike or bike.  A simple "I don't think that appeals to me," or "I got an unexpected bug.  I enjoyed our time so far, and I'd like to call you tomorrow when I'm feeling better."

Having some practiced words in your back pocket -- and giving yourself permission -- are two ways you can manage.

You probably have some I haven't thought of, and it's wonderful to share.

If you are beyond the dating and into a long-term relationship -- most of this still applies!

We still need to commit -- and re-commit -- to the process of loving and being loved.  A relationship is a deep gift in our lives -- and also requires intention, attention, and an eye to the unpredictable.

I wish you all well on your journey, and whatever your relationship status, bless yourself with a gift of appreciation and loving thoughts this Valentine's Day.

A valentine from me to you, and a valentine from you to you.

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