Bobbi Emel

Palo Alto and Bay Area therapist

Resilience

5 ways to be okay with where you are

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After my last blog post, my friend Susan wrote and said, “I liked what you had to say, but what about the corollary of ‘I don’t care where I am, I just don’t want to be here’?” She went on to say that she had gone dancing that night – an activity she usually loves – but had a terrible time because “I brought my ‘I don’t want to be here’ self with me.”

So I have some ideas about this, of course. A great myth propagated by our society – and sometimes my very profession – is that we should feel good all the time. People spend a lot of time and energy trying to avoid feeling bad; we don’t like feeling bad and we want to change it. That makes sense, but it’s not very realistic. There are times when we are going to be grouchy or mad or sad or uncomfortable inside our own skins. As the poet William Stafford says,

Look: no one ever promised for sure
that we would sing. We have decided
to moan. In a strange dance that
we don’t understand till we do it, we
have to carry on.

So the key is to not resist where you are. Here are five ideas on how to do that:

1. Accept your bad moods and learn from them. We resist the “bad” emotions of anger, sadness, anxiety, and irritability and yet they are just emotions – they are neither good nor bad. What they can do for you, though, is act as a signal that something is amiss for you. Instead of resisting the emotion, go with it and see from where it arises. What new thing can you learn about yourself from your mood?

2. You’re here now, so look around and see what you can learn. Even if you bring your “I don’t want to be here” self to the party, you’re there now anyway. Is there some reason you came to where you are? Is there a person you’re supposed to meet or a lesson to learn about yourself? Take a breath and let go of the idea that you should want to be where you are. The fact is, you’re there so what opportunity is presenting itself to you? Maybe the opportunity is just a chance to learn to be okay with being somewhere you don’t want to be for awhile.

3. See how you got there and maybe you won’t have to go there again. So, you’re in a place you don’t want to be. How did you get there? Perhaps you weren’t listening to the voice inside you that was saying, “I really don’t feel like doing this tonight” or “I’ve had bad experiences in the past with this person” or “I know I won’t feel well physically if I eat this thing I’m allergic to” or ______ (fill in the blank.)

4. Don’t waste your energy wishing you were somewhere else. Here’s a really simple example: I used to just hate being stuck in traffic or at a red light when I was running late. I wished really hard that I would be anywhere but where I was. I would get really upset and grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, tense my whole body, grind my teeth, and either silently or out loud curse the person or light that was adding to my lateness. Since I tend to be a late person, this took up a lot of my energy and I would arrive to my destination drained, tired, and cranky.

After years of doing this, a couple of thoughts occurred to me. One was the reality that all of my tension and upset did nothing to influence either the stoplight or other drivers’ behaviors. I was expending all my energy on some sort of magical belief that I could change the situation if I just got uptight enough about it. The other thought that came to me was that lightning had never struck when I was late. Not that I wanted to continue being late all the time, but the truth was that nothing terribly bad had ever happened because of it. Sure, I felt embarrassed or uncomfortable sometimes, but the end of the world as I had anticipated it through my mental and physical gyrations never actually occurred.

Now, instead of wasting my energy, I think two thoughts: “I have no control over that stoplight or the actions of other drivers.” And, “It’s my own fault I’m late. It’s embarrassing, but not the end of the world.”

You can use this same system when you are expending a lot of energy wishing you are somewhere other than where you are right now. If you have no control over where you are, let it go. If you do, do something about it. And ask yourself if it’s really the end of the world to be where you are.

5. It’s okay that you don’t want to be there. Don’t overemphasize how bad it is to not want to be somewhere. Where you are emotionally or physically is probably not the worst place in the world. You don’t have to like it, though, no one says you do. Yesterday, a friend and I were sharing our experiences of deep grieving from several years ago. Neither of us ever wanted to be in that emotional place and we certainly did not like it. But there we were. And what did we do? I didn’t like where I was, but I was there, so sometimes I divided the day up into five minute intervals and thought, “I’ll just get through the next five minutes,” all day long. My friend said she just put one leaden foot in front of the other until she started to move out of that space where she didn’t want to be.

No one promised we would sing; we have decided to moan. And that’s okay.



William Stafford, An Introduction to Some Poems, in The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems. Graywolf Press, 1999.




I'm never lost, I just don't know where I am

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The other day I was listening to a radio show on travel. The guest was talking about his career as a travel journalist and the pros and cons of travelling alone. When it came time for listener comments, a man called in and said, “My motto is, ‘I’m never lost, I just don’t know where I am.’”

I turned this over in my mind a few times. I started wishing I had known about that motto when I was grieving and felt utterly lost in a world I no longer recognized. Or when the opposing forces of coming out as a lesbian and my conservative Christian beliefs collided and tossed my self-confidence about like a lawn chair in a hurricane. Or when I was laid off from my job and panicky about how I was going to pay the rent.

If only I’d known that I wasn’t really lost, I just didn’t know where I was. That the experience of not knowing where I was would make me stronger, and that it would open new doors for me as I explored areas I wouldn’t have explored if I hadn’t been unwillingly thrust into them.

Because I didn’t know where I was, I learned that grief doesn’t end, but it does get better. This lesson propelled me to help others who need an anchor when they, too, are feeling lost in their sea of grief.  I can help them to eventually see that they aren’t lost, they just don’t know where they are right now.

Because I didn’t know where I was, I learned that there are many different ways to think about life rather than being locked into one narrow belief system. I was able to grow a healthy respect for different faiths, different viewpoints, and different lifestyles. And I learned that I was more okay than I ever thought I would be when my vision was so constricted.

Because I didn’t know where I was, I took the first job that came along after I was laid off, something outside of my skill set and training. My wild attempt to latch onto stability launched me on a wonderful fifteen-year experience that was rife with discovery: I had leadership skills I never knew about; I was more creative than I had given myself credit for; I found a passion for advocating for the underdog on the margins of society – people who need and want skills to bounce back from adversity.

Not knowing where I am brings color and vitality to my life. The difference between now and those past experiences is that now I can celebrate and anticipate not knowing where I am. Even if it’s uncomfortable, I still know that I’m in a space where I might discover something new about myself right around the next corner.

How has not knowing where you were influenced your life?


"Life is good" inspires resiliency

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I want to start this off by saying I’m not being paid in any way by the company Life is good. So, I’m voluntarily saying that I really like them. I like their stuff, I like their simple, positive slogan, and I like how they inspire people. I don’t even think inspiration was their intention when they started the company, but somehow that slogan and the happy faces of their character, Jake, and his dog, Rocket, really move people to do good stuff and make it through some tough times.

They have a section on their website called Fuel: Inspiring letters that fuel us all to keep spreading good vibes. Want some extra fuel for your day? Check it out.

And remember, sometimes it’s the simple thoughts that get us through: Life is good.

Becoming Resilient

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Life Coach and Daymaker Annis Cassells wrote a wonderful, short article that sums up nicely many of the keys to becoming resilient. You can see it here on my website. Please also check out Annis’ blog for more words of encouragement and wisdom.

The Resiliency of Zenyatta – From Rash to Riches, Part 2

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(This is the second in a series about the great racehorse, Zenyatta, and the lessons she has taught us. Please look for the headings in bold italics to learn important resiliency tools.)


On Thanksgiving Day, 2007, Andrea and I stood near the paddock at Hollywood Park racetrack, watching the horses for the next race slowly circle the perimeter with their grooms. We were told that the number 9 horse, Zenyatta, might be “pretty good.” She was running in her first race today. The first thing I noticed about the number 9 horse was that she was really, really big. 17 hands, as I found out later, much taller than the usual filly and even taller than most male horses.

Don’t take yourself so seriously

As her groom led her around the paddock, Zenyatta bobbed her dark head up and down and pawed at the dirt with her front hoof. Then she started to prance, flinging her front legs straight out as she walked. “That’s a funny little dance,” Andrea said 

“And look at that tongue!” I laughed. Zenyatta’s tongue was hanging out sideways from her mouth, waggling as she gnawed on her bit.

Maybe being behind isn’t so bad

Jockey David Flores was given a leg up onto the big girl and we took our seats in the grandstands to watch the race. The start didn’t look very good as Zenyatta came out of the gate last and soon was several lengths back. She stayed that way until the far turn where we could see her start to move up on the pack. Flores steered her to the outside and then we saw her gaining ground very quickly on the other horses with each huge stride. Above the cheering, we heard track announcer Vic Stauffer, “Caramel Coffee has the lead but you better take a look at Zenyatta-a-a-a to run by and do it nicely. Zenyatta won by 3 ½ [lengths] in a good-lookin’ win.”

And so the streak began, each one the same:  slow out of the gate, dropping so far back it seemed she’d never be able to recover, sneaking up on the far turn, then flying down the stretch for the win.

Find joy in the moment

Zenyatta’s pre-race routine was always the same, too: dancing in the paddock, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, pawing at the dirt. And I noticed another interesting thing about her as she raced: her ears. While the other horses kept their ears almost flat back to their heads, Zenyatta’s ears flicked back and forth as she ran, as though she were not only keenly interested in what was going on around her, but heartily enjoying every minute of it, too. Then, when she passed the last horse to take the lead, those ears pricked all the way forward as she heard the roar of the crowd and anticipated the finish line.

Even with perfection, there will still be critics

Her fifth win started to generate some buzz in the racing community as Vic Stauffer called out during the home stretch, “How do you describe perfection? Why try? Let’s just watch her run. This is Zenyatta-a-a-a.” As she took the lead in the 2008 Breeders’ Cup Ladies Classic, veteran announcer Trevor Denman called her “Undoubtedly now, a living legend. Zenyatta is now nine for nine.”

Despite her success, Zenyatta had her critics. “She doesn’t run against the boys.” “She won’t run on real dirt, only the artificial tracks in California.” “She never goes back east to race.” “Jerry Moss is too conservative with her.”

Do what you know is right

Team Zenyatta, though, overlooked the controversy. “We want to do what is best for Zenyatta and that includes her safety,” Moss explained.

Winning by a nose is still a win

As Zenyatta’s winning streak grew into the 2009 season, so did my anxiety level while I watched her race. The style of a closer is dramatic, and Zenyatta was certainly no exception. Her 12th race nearly produced a coronary event for me as she won by a nose. Or maybe even a nostril.

Set your sights high

She had definitely caught the attention of the racing world and was soon to burst into the public limelight with her last race of 2009. Although the Triple Crown races are more popular and well-known, the world championships of horse racing actually occur at the annual Breeders’ Cup meet held at the end of the year. In 2008, Zenyatta had won the ladies’ version of the world championship, but Team Zenyatta decided to race her against the boys in the ultimate race, the Breeders’ Cup Classic, in 2009. Her competitors would include Kentucky Derby winner Mine That Bird and Belmont Stakes winner Summer Bird. No filly or mare had ever won the Breeders’ Cup Classic. If she won, it would go a long way to prove her critics wrong.

Don’t worry about others getting in front of you

Trevor Denman’s call at the start of the race sent the proverbial chills down my spine: “Zenyatta is dead last, dead last as they start . . . Zenyatta is still dead last going into the turn, she’s given up about 10 lengths to the leaders.” Andrea and I were standing in front of the television, unable to stay still enough to sit. There were twelve horses in the field, more than most of Zenyatta’s prior races. Jockey Mike Smith started to bring her up at the beginning of the far turn but there was a wall of horses in front of her. “I don’t think she can get through,” I fretted as the horses turned for home.

“Zenyatta has a lot, a LOT of ground to make up,” intoned Trevor Denman. “If she wins this she’ll be a superhorse.”

Look for a way through, no matter what is in front of you

Suddenly, Andrea yelled, “Look! Mike found an opening! She’s coming through! Go Zenyatta!”

“And Zenyatta has come to the outside, Zenyatta coming flying to the grandstand side!” Denman’s voice rose with excitement as the horses sprinted down the home stretch.

“Go! Go! Go!” Andrea and I shrieked at the television.

Things that look impossible sometimes aren’t

Denman was at full voice now as Zenyatta took the lead: “This. Is. Un-be-LIEV-able! Zenya-a-atta, what a performance – one we’ll NEVER forget! Looked impossible but it is Zenyatta, still unbeaten.”

I grabbed Andrea and we jumped up and down together, “She did it! She did it!”

It’s the heart that wins fans

John Shirreffs and Jerry Moss summed up the whole event in two sentences as Zenyatta paraded to the winner’s circle. “She’s just all heart,” said Shirreffs. An emotional Moss looked at the grandstands while he was being interviewed, “Look at the fans,” he gestured with his arm. Pink and teal posters with “Girl Power! Go Zenyatta!” were waved by wildly happy Zenyatta fans.

Using your Gift empowers and inspires others

Those pink and teal Girl Power signs seemed to multiply as Zenyatta raced in 2010, her fourth and final year. Especially as she neared, and then surpassed the 16-consecutive-win marks of legendary horses Cigar and Citation. Girls and women all over the country began to write to the Mosses and the Shirreffs, telling them how Zenyatta had inspired them in their lives. Singer/songwriter Liza G. Fly wrote a song just for Zenyatta. Home-made music videos from fans began appearing on YouTube showing Zenyatta’s “dance” and her come-from-behind heroics.

A young woman named Brittany wrote an article for the blog, College Candy, titled “A Positive Female Role Model For College Girls.” She begins, “Want to be a classy woman?  Zenyatta could teach you something.” And ends with, “Watching Zenyatta race is more than just a sporting event; she sweats class and lays it all over the racetrack. I think we should all learn a little something from her: to hold our heads up high; to be confident with ourselves; to go for what we want, no matter what obstacles stand in our way; to dance when and where we want.

“Sure, Zenyatta may be a horse, but she’s got more class in her little hoof than most of today’s celebs/”role models” put together. She’s a classy broad and an inspiration that we can all learn from…who just happens to have four legs and a tail.”

Next time: The last race, but not the last of Zenyatta.

The Resiliency of Zenyatta – From Rash to Riches, Part 1

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I’ve always enjoyed sports but have never been too interested in horse racing. Until Zenyatta came along. The huge mare won 19 straight races – all from behind, way behind – over a period of four years and just barely lost her 20th by a nose in the 2010 Breeders’ Cup Classic. Her consecutive win streak put her past racing legends such as Cigar, Citation, Personal Ensign and the great Man O’ War.

But there was more to Zenyatta than just her wins. It was how she won, how she danced for her fans and for joy, and how she inspired people to overcome adversity in their lives just by watching her. There is much to the story of Zenyatta and the team that has allowed her legend to be born and still thrive, and I’ll beg your indulgence as I chronicle her story here in my blog.

Please look for the headings in bold italics to learn important resiliency tools.


So how did this . . .

Zenyatta as a foal

become this . . .

Zenyatta


to inspire this?

Girl Power


Greatness doesn’t always start out that way

For those of you who know of Zenyatta or have recently googled her, you know that she is the glamour girl of horse racing, “The Queen in the Sport of Kings” as the song by Liza G. Fly goes. But, like many resilient creatures, she certainly didn’t start out this way. The fuzzy little foal grew into a tall, gangly girl by the time of her sale at the Keeneland 2005 yearling auction. The filly had some obstacles to overcome to get buyers to look at her seriously: Her father, Street Cry, wasn’t proven as a sire yet, she had a skin rash that was very unattractive and she was, well, so big.

It helps to have a supportive team

Sitting in the audience, however, was 29-year-old David Ingordo, bloodstock agent for long-time thoroughbred owners Jerry and Ann Moss. Ingordo was raised in the thoroughbred world and had consulted on ”hip number 703″ (the filly’s auction number) with the Mosses, their trainer, John Shirreffs, and the Moss’ racing manager, Dottie Ingordo-Shirreffs. Are the names starting to sound familiar? Dottie is David’s mother and the wife of John Shirreffs. Team Zenyatta, as it came to be known, started out from the beginning as a close-knit, supportive family.

But back to the auction. John Shirreffs favors big horses with big strides and the Mosses thought she looked “pretty nice” and were prepared to spend up to $200,000 for her. The bidding for her didn’t exactly go through the roof. David Ingordo was so surprised when he bought hip number 703 for $60,000, he had to check twice to make sure he got the right horse. The Mosses purchased another yearling at the sale for $650,000 and the top youngster at the auction sold for a staggering $9.7 million.

Now, what to do with “the big girl”, as she was known at her yearling farm. First, a name. Jerry Moss, co-founder of A&M Records, had pretty good luck with one of his horses the year he and his wife bought the big girl. At 50-1 odds, Giacomo won the 2005 Kentucky Derby on Jerry Moss’ 70th birthday. The longshot was named after recording artist Sting’s son, so Jerry went back to the well again, this time naming the big girl “Zenyatta”, after the Police album, Zenyatta Mondatta.

But how would they bring this big girl along to become a racehorse?

Have faith

In spite of their vast wealth, Jerry and Ann Moss are two of the most grounded, loving people one could meet. And they are faithful. Not in a religious sense, but in that warm, hope-for-humanity sense. They have faith in each other, in their friends, their family, and their community (as seen by their sponsorship of the Los Angeles Remote Area Medical event last year). Jerry knows personally the role faith has in overcoming adversity. He had faith in both himself and the music that  captured his soul. Following his bliss, he grew from working-class kid out of the Bronx to co-creator of A&M records with buddy Herb Alpert. Ann is a walking paradigm of faith in the power of love and positive energy, gently correcting one’s negative musings with a soft, “Cancel, cancel.”

 At some point, owners of racehorses have to let go, to have faith in the trainer and the team that supports him/her. Jerry and Ann have this faith in John Shirreffs. And John makes a practice of surrendering and trusting the outcome. “It’s all about letting go,” he said to Eclipse Award-winning ESPN.com writer Wright Thompson, “Training horses is all about letting go . . . That’s why I found, while they’re in your care, it’s important to do the best you can. Enjoy that moment.”

John has faith in the moment. That’s what led him to the patience he needed with Zenyatta.

Be patient

Most of us are familiar with the Triple Crown races, especially the Kentucky Derby. Names like Secretariat, War Admiral, Seattle Slew, and Affirmed are part of our common knowledge base because they are among the few horses who won all three races in the Triple Crown. Yet, Zenyatta never raced in a Triple Crown event. Why? With the Moss’ success with Giacomo, and the buzz about Zenyatta that started at her yearling farm and followed her to Shirreffs’ barn, wouldn’t they want to see if they could get the big filly’s career started  early so she could be a Triple Crown contender?

The answer is both yes and no. While the Mosses were excited about Zenyatta’s potential, they also kept their faith in John Shirreffs. Despite pressure within the racing circles, Shirreffs knew Zenyatta was not ready for the track as a two-year-old, the age most Triple Crown contenders start racing. She wasn’t mature enough and hadn’t grown into her big body well enough yet. So he patiently waited, working with Zenyatta just a little bit longer than usual. A few years later, Hall of Fame trainer D. Wayne Lukas would say, “What a tribute to John that he gave her time, and what a tribute to Jerry Moss that he let John wait.”

Faith and patience were worn by the Moss/Shirreffs team like badges as they grew gangly, rashy, unknown hip number 703 into the 3-year-old Zenyatta who was about to dance her way into her first race in November, 2007.

Next time: The big girl becomes the Queen of racing . . . and hearts.

Becoming the Person You Were Meant to Be

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I love, love, love writer Anne Lamott. Her ability to write about life’s adversities with searing honesty and self-deprecating humor has helped me get through some of my own canyons of despair and confusion. I was digging through my files the other day and pulled out an article from O Magazine. It was called “How to Become the Person You Were Meant to Be” and it featured several writers sharing their thoughts on how one goes about this intrinsic task. Anne Lamott’s entry is called “Where Do I Start?” and you can find it in its entirety here.

I kept this article because it not only has to do with Gift-y stuff like becoming the person you were meant to be, but it also is about grief-y, resilience-y, change-y stuff, too. In true Lamott style, she begins,

We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be. The only problem is that there is also so much other stuff, typically fixations with how people perceive us, how to get more of the things that we think will make us happy, and with keeping our weight down. So the real issue is how do we gently stop being who we aren’t? (My emphases.)

She goes on to say that, everyday, she tries to figure out something she no longer agrees to do.

Wouldn’t that be great? One day you could say, “I no longer agree to go along with the world on how I am ‘supposed’ to look.” The next day you could say, “I no longer agree to keep quiet about my own Giftedness. It is for my community and I bring it forth with gladness and a shout!” On the third day you could say, “I no longer agree that some of my emotions are ‘bad.’ I can be enraged, grief-stricken, or silly just as I can be joyful, loving, or funny.”

If you wanted to gently stop  being who you aren’t, what would you no longer agree to?

"I Can Do Anything Good!"

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The other day I met my friend, Judi, for lunch. As it was unseasonably warm, I decided to ride my Vespa to the restaurant. After a wonderful lunch, we headed for our vehicles. “Hey!” I called after Judi, “I’m going to get some groceries. You’d be amazed how much stuff I can get on this scooter!”

Judi looked at me with an impish grin. “I know you can do anything good!” she said.

I laughed at our inside joke. We belong to a wonderful group of women known as The Tribe. This group discovered their individual Core Gifts together a few years ago and, since then, we’ve been sharing examples of Gifts we see in the world. A few months ago, one of our Tribesters posted this delightful video on our online forum. “I can do anything good” has become our Tribe motto.

Isn’t it a bummer that we lose this exuberance in our own capabilities as we get older? We let the dust of life experience build up and hide the luster of our Gifts. Wouldn’t it be great to just stand in front of a mirror – or maybe in front of a vast audience – clap our hands and, with unrestrained confidence say, “I can do anything good!”?

Why not?

Hey, if I can stuff the storage containers on a Vespa full of an amazing amount of groceries, maybe I can do anything good. It’s got to start somewhere.

Thanks for the reminder, Judi.