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May 08

End of One Illusion: No Safe Place

Posted on May 8, 2012 by johanna

One of the problems with vertigo is that there is no safe place for me, except for sitting down.

I flew to and from Denver last week. I don’t mind flying–flying is easy. It’s the getting on the plane that’s difficult. Walking down the jetway is difficult. Declines are difficult—I don’t know where down is.

I flew Southwest, which is an uncommon experience for me. The problem is that in Boston, Southwest does not have many flights, so they have only a few kiosks, and no express bag check. I had to wait in line to check my bag along with everyone who had not yet printed their boarding pass. That took almost 30 minutes. By then I was dehydrated, because I had drunk all my pre-TSA water.

Then, because Southwest doesn’t have too many flights, they only had one line for security. One person thought it was critical that she rush past me and slide right in front of me to jump the security line ahead of me. I waited almost 30 minutes to get through security. I was barely able to answer the TSA person’s questions, because my aphasia had kicked in.

I was able to get some water before I walked to the gate, so I was able to speak before I had to ask for pre-boarding. I was able to pre-board, but the people who board next are the people who pay a premium on Southwest, and one gentleman ran down the jetway to the plane so he could get his bulkhead seat.

Unfortunately, this jetway was not rock solid. The jetway swayed as did his belly–just not as gently. As he passed me, I lost my balance and careened into the jetway, bouncing off the side. I didn’t fall down. I hung onto the jetway until he passed.

I was terrified.

I was afraid I would burst into tears. I was afraid I would fall over. I was afraid my days of independent travel were done. I was afraid, period. But I only had four feet remaining to get to the plane, so I took one step, then another step and continued until I got to the plane. The wonderful flight attendant took one look at me, realized that I was hanging on by a thread, and helped me to an aisle seat.

We wedged my briefcase under the seat in front of me. I folded my cane into the seat pocket, and I sat down and breathed.

I didn’t cry until later that night when I got to my hotel room. I hate being this physically fragile. I have all kinds of mental toughness, but not when it comes to my physical fragility. Then, I’m a big marshmallow.

The only good thing out of this incident is that I have more questions to ask when I fly on less familiar airlines. It’s time for me to ask for more help in unfamiliar situations because there is no safe place for me.

Public buildings are the safest, because they tend to have not-high-gloss floors, which are slippery. They tend to have low-nap rugs or carpet. They have banisters for stairs. They often have working elevators.

Private houses are quite unsafe for me. People do not always put rug liners under their throw rugs, so I step on them and go boom, fall down. And, people have tables and chairs and all sorts of things arranged so I have to walk around them—as they should.

Many buildings or floors inside a building are not flat. I am quite aware of when the floor is not flat. You don’t need a level with me around. I can tell you!

Sidewalks are horrible. It’s not the crack in the sidewalk–it’s the gap in the sidewalk that’s the problem.

It’s not the fall that bothers me. I don’t know when I’m falling down, so I’m quite relaxed. It’s the consequences of the fall that bothers me.

When I fell in the gym in February, I sustained a concussion and jarred some of my molars. I tend to fall on my left side when my knee gives out, or on my head, as a face plant, face first. I don’t want to lose any more teeth or get more concussions. I’m not a hockey or a football player; I’m a management consultant!

For a person with a compromised vestibular system, there is no safe place. There are safer places, and less safe places. I rely on the kindness of others and other people’s systems to make the world a safer place for me. That’s not very comfortable.

I have to take control of my environment to make the world a safe place for me. Maybe it’s time to take a wheelchair if I fly Southwest again. I suspect I am letting my (false) pride get in the way of my safety. That’s stupid, crazy, and nuts.

I will start looking for ways to create safety in my environment, even if does mean I use a wheelchair. I have to readjust my idea of a wheelchair. For me, a wheelchair has to mean safety in public, not lack of leg strength. That’s a transforming idea.

I will be flying on Southwest again, with Daughter #2 in a few weeks. We’ll discuss how to fly together. When I have company, it’s different. I have someone to give me feedback. I know now, how early to be at the airport. I know how much more water to bring. I know to ask for more help. And, maybe, I’ll ask for a wheelchair. We’ll see.

My big learning this time was that I have to create my own safety everywhere. I cannot depend on others. That’s why I have my bright flashlight. It’s why I carry a refillable bottle.  And, it’s why I have to ask for help anyway.

My independence is an illusion. I am independent inside a very narrow set of boundaries. Facing the end of that illusion is what’s so scary.

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4
Apr 25

My Stuff, Your Junk

Posted on April 25, 2012 by johanna

No matter what, Mark and I are moving into a smaller house. That part is clear. So we need to clear out some of what I fondly refer to as our Stuff. When I was traveling last week, Mark told me sternly that we needed to declutter. I agreed.

“My name is Johanna and I have a problem with books.” When I was six years old, I tried to run away from home, but I couldn’t. My books didn’t fit into my suitcase. I was stuck at home. (This is a true story.)

I have had a book problem my entire life. Well, I don’t really think of my addiction as a problem. Thank goodness we now have ebooks. My problem has gone underground, or to the bits.

However, Mark has a different problem. We have everything the children ever made us. Every card. Every homemade gift. Every Father’s Day card. If Mark got to them, every Mother’s Day card. Every Happy Birthday card, every Happy Anniversary card.

Daughter #1 is 23. Daughter #2 is 19. Daughter #2 made a Beanie Baby village when she was 4 or 5, which is in the attic. It had pools and couches and multiple stories. It is in the attic in the same shape as when it was created. Last night, on the phone, my beleaguered husband complained, “We don’t have to get rid of the Beanie Baby village, do we?”

Well, what am I going to say to that? “Yes, we do?” I’m the Ice Queen, but I’m not that much of an Ice Queen. I said we could keep that. I did say we had to get rid of the rock in plexiglass.

When our synagogue underwent renovation, we donated money. In return, we got a rock in plexiglass. Now, we live in New England, in Massachusetts. We don’t grow grass or flowers here. We don’t grow vegetables or blueberries. We grow rocks. In fact, our house is perched on ledge. Every spring, more rocks show up in the yard. If Mark really wanted a rock, all he had to do was go into the yard and pick one up. I would have bought some plexiglass.

I know, it’s the sentiment of the thing. He could have left it at the synagogue. He could have given it to someone else. He could have thrown it out. No, it’s sitting next to some wonderful pictures of the girls. A rock.

I bet this happens to everyone who downsizes.  It doesn’t matter which one of us is talking. I think we are going to need a professional.

Because it’s clearly my Stuff and your Junk.

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2
Apr 24

Overconstraining the Problem

Posted on April 24, 2012 by johanna

Mark and I went house shopping this past weekend. We are looking for a new-to-us home. We were looking for a 3 bedroom condo with an attached garage, so we can have everything on one floor. I’m willing to have the extra bedroom on another floor (up or down) as long as I never have to go there. That means all the regular living space has to be on one floor.

We had several discussions about why 3 bedrooms. We need a master bedroom and I need an office, so that’s two bedrooms. Mark is planning for the future grandchildren. Neither of our daughters is married, so that’s really planning. We do need space for Daughter #2 to crash when she comes home from college for the next couple of years.

Well, the first place we saw had a detached garage. It was up-the-hill walk to the condo. That means it’s a down-the-hill walk to the car every time I want to leave the house. Nope, that won’t do. The floor plan was fine, but the garage made it a no-deal-at-all. All the other available places in that development had the same problem: detached garages.

The second place we saw had a one-car attached garage, but had a skinny formal living room and a skinny formal dining room–not how we live–and a galley kitchen. I need a wall oven so I don’t have to bend over, which is almost doable in a galley kitchen. The places in this development had basements where the entertainment rooms (TV rooms) are. Well, I’m not going downstairs to watch TV. We use our living room to relax and read and watch TV now. We don’t use a dining room except for when we have a pile of people. It was the wrong layout for us.

The good news is we saw a bunch of places. The bad news is nothing was right. More good news is we know what we don’t want. And, we are not in a big hurry. At least, not right now. I’m stable right now. With any luck, that will last for a few months–maybe even a year or two!

What I did realize is that I was over-constraining the problem. We don’t need to move into a condo. We could move into a house. If we moved into a ranch with an attached garage, we might have more luck finding something in our desired geographic location.

Mark still has a commute to his work that we need to consider. We have our religious community to consider. We have dance classes to consider. We don’t want to move too far from any of those to make it difficult to participate.

So my first solution was okay. It was not a good enough solution. I had not applied the Rule of Three. (I wrote about the Rule of Three in What Took You So Long.) I suggested that we think of a ranch. I also told Mark we could move to the San Francisco Bay Area where many of the houses are one-story ranches, but he didn’t like that suggestion. What a surprise! That violates the commute problem.

So far, we have the condo and ranch options. Or, I have to sell a lot more books to be able to afford condos in a higher price range with attached garages. (I’m talking a lot more books.) We have other options:

  • We can stay put (not a good option)
  • We can take out a much larger loan (yech)
  • We can get a smaller place
  • We can sell our house and move into an apartment for some time while we look for a place that really fits. Neither of us is excited about this. Although it has the side effect of us having to downsize our Stuff. That would be Quite Good.

I’ll be thinking of more options. I suspect we have not yet seen what the market has to offer. It was one day of house-shopping. And, we know what does not work. This is good. Now we need to see what might work.

This kind of problem solving, jumping to the first alternative solution, is epidemic in problem solving. Using the Rule of Three is helpful. Just because I don’t see three solutions right now doesn’t mean there aren’t three. Or four. Or five. Or more. I don’t see them yet. I haven’t begun to explore yet.

Part of the problem is that exploring solutions around housing is a charged emotional experience. Wait until I blog about the conversation we had last night about our stuff. You will laugh your head off. I did.

I made the mistake of thinking this problem is about a house. It’s not. To Mark—but not to me—the house is much more than a street location. This house is truly a home.

To me, the house is a house. The memories are what I take with me. So I don’t care about the location. I sound like an ice queen. But to Mark, the memories are tied into the physical location of the house. He remembers getting the kids on plastic skis in the backyard. I remember that too, with great love. But I can take those memories. I don’t care about the location. He does.

And that’s why people, including married couples like us, get stuck on how to change houses. It’s not just the size. It’s not just the location. It’s not just the aspect ratio of the living room. It’s the fact that whatever house we buy, that house is a house where the kids didn’t have their fourth birthdays in the backyard, or that I didn’t bake Barney cakes in the kitchen, or that we didn’t have pizza parties for teenagers in the dining room. And that’s going to have to be okay.

So, we will keep talking about what we want out of our new home. What are the problems we need to solve for my health and Mark’s commute? How do we want to live? And, how much room do we really need? I am learning a lot about myself.

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Apr 05

Self-Esteem Can’t Arise From Your External Beauty Either

Posted on April 5, 2012 by johanna

There’s a sad story making the rounds today. Samantha Brick wrote an article in the Daily Mail called ‘There are downsides to looking this pretty’: Why women hate me for being beautiful. In it, she claims perks from men such as flowers and free drinks, and discrimination from female bosses. She also says:

So now I’m 41 and probably one of very few women entering her fifth decade welcoming the decline of my looks. I can’t wait for the wrinkles and the grey hair that will help me blend into the background.

Perhaps then the sisterhood will finally stop judging me so harshly on what I look like, and instead accept me for who I am.

Wow. This is a woman with a small or no support system. A woman who appears to have her self-esteem tied up in her physical appearance. (And, possibly a woman who is working with poor managers. I could help with that!)

I know one thing: there are other sides to this story. I bet those people who appear to be discriminating against her have their perspectives on what actually happened.

Let me tell you what happens to me when I travel, even to the grocery store. People open doors for me–when I smile. People help me with items on the top shelf.

At the airport, very nice people help me through the security line. The people wearing Harley Davidson clothing seem to be the nicest. “Ma’am, can I help you with that?” is what I hear most often. And, if they have children with them, their children, often teenagers, offer to shepherd me from one place to another. Smiling all the time. I have to admit, if I see a Harley t-shirt, I break into a bigger grin. Harley people are the best! (No offense, all you other motorcyclers!)

If I have to wait in line somewhere, inevitably people see me with my cane and offer to move me up in line, especially if I smile. I have no idea if I’m weaving back and forth. I try hard to stand quite still when I stand up, clenching my glut’s and extending my hip flexors.

Why am I telling you this? Because I have accepted who I am. I am a short woman with a cane, and, I hope, an engaging smile. I use the smile to connect with people, to build rapport, in business, at the grocery store, at the mall, at the airport. I don’t do it to get something from people. I do it to connect with people. I try to remain independent, because I don’t know how long I can be independent. In the meantime, I am enjoying life. Part of my enjoyment is connecting with people.

I don’t know Ms. Brick. All I have are questions. Does she use her beauty to connect or build a barrier between her and the rest of the world? Is her beauty how she defines her self-esteem or her self-concept? If so, I pity her. She could be so much more than her beauty.

gordian knotSelf-confidence, self-esteem, and self-concept are a gordian knot. As long as you define yourself by something external, you will have a tough time. The more you define yourself by something internal, you will have an easier time.

I decided when I first started with this craziness, that I would act cheerful. I had a difficult time succeeding, until the medication I am on now. I found it difficult to act cheerful when the world went up and down every time I moved my head up and down.

Now, I have 2.5 years of acting cheerful. It’s become a way of life. Most of the time, I am cheerful. Not always, but often. I find that people respond to my cheerfulness.

I’m not beautiful. Oh, it doesn’t hurt to look at me. But, I was never a classic beauty. Too short, too curvy, too big-mouth, too something :-) But I have a smile people respond to. When I speak, whether it’s one-on-one, to a small group, or to a huge room, I engage people. That’s a form of “beauty,” I think.

So I will keep smiling. And, telling my stories when I speak. And staying cheerful. And working on my emotional resilience. And staying happy. I wonder if Ms. Brick ever is. Good luck, Ms. Brick.

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Apr 02

Emotional Resilience, Part 3, Strengthening Your Inner Selves

Posted on April 2, 2012 by johanna

I realize that some of you have been waiting for this post for a while. Sorry. Was busy.

Siebert says most people can live with just parts 1 and 2 quite nicely. That is, until they have a traumatic event. It’s time to get to know your inner selves and build them.

Those of us past the age of 4 have been learning about our inner selves for a while. That’s when we learned that the world did not revolve around us. Depending on when that happened to you, we had to learn to develop these three core inner strengths: Self-confidence, Self-esteem, and Self-concept. They are what you use to access more of your emotional resilience.

I didn’t realize that each of these selves actually has a physical component from the major nervous system (from Siebert’s Resiliency Advantage):

  • The somatic nervous system controls your physical actions and is the source of your self-confidence.
  • The autonomic nervous system governs your feelings and is the source of your self-esteem.
  • The central nervous system includes your brain, and is the source of your verbal, conceptual thinking. Your self-concept is your collection of thoughts about who and what you are.

This is why when all three of your selves are healthy, you can bounce back. You might not bounce, but you can recover.

When I was dizzy all the time and had no medication to manage my dizziness, I was not confident of my ability to manage anything physical. I was difficult to be around. (I didn’t like being around me, and wherever I went, there I was!) As soon as my medication kicked in, I was back to my old self. Sure, I fell down, and I had infrequent vertigo attacks, but I knew I would get over them. Sometime. When I didn’t know I could recover from a fall or an attack, I felt quite differently about them.

The problem I have with Siebert’s writing is that he lumps all self-confidence together. I have enough self-confidence in my work for about 15 people. Those of you who have seen me teach or speak or consult can vouch for that. If I screw up at work, I can apologize or make it right somehow and go on. I know how to do that.

Now, when I fall over from my vertigo, I have less self-confidence for falling. Because I can’t predict if I’m going to fall over again. Every time I fall, it takes me a while to build back up to where I was before I fell.

Siebert says “Self-confidence is an action predictor.” Well, IMNHO it depends on the context. I do expect to succeed in new activities, as long as they are within my physical capabilities. He doesn’t say anything about that kind of context in the book.

So, how do you develop your self-confidence? First, become good at what you do. This is where intentional practice comes in. If you have read Gladwell’s Outliers: The Story of Success, you know you need lots of deliberate practice to become good at some kind of task. He talks about 10,000 hours of practice with feedback. Esther Schindler told me you had to write 100,000 words to become a great writer. I think she meant 100,000 edited words. And, in Influencer: The Power to Change Anything, Kerry Patterson et al say that rapid feedback is essential:

one of the vital behaviors for effective teachers is extremely short intervals between teaching and testing.

As you become good at something, set some reasonable goals, and reach them. I am super-competitive with myself. When I started to blog, I set myself a goal of blogging at least twice a week. So I did. This year, I set a goal for myself for a monthly column. I’ve never done that before. There is no reason I can’t. I have some techniques that will help me see my work and achieve those goals. I am super-competitive with myself at the gym. Erik uses that to help me gain muscular strength. It’s working.

That’s how you achieve self-confidence: gain some competence, practice, set some goals, rinse and repeat. Notice how that leads into your self-esteem. Notice how I said above, “There’s no reason I can’t.” That’s how I feel about it. I have high self-confidence which leads to my emotional opinion of myself.

Because I set small incremental goals, I often succeed. That means I can keep up the inner praise for myself, even when other people don’t notice. Because other people aren’t going to notice even if don’t succeed!

Other people are not going to notice when I stick to my eating plan every day or not. They are not going to notice when I increase the friction on the bike at the gym or not. They are not going to notice if I increase the number of articles I write a year or not. Ok, they might notice that :-) They might notice if I blog more or not. But I do this because I want to improve me, my work.

As soon as you do something for other people, it’s harder to make it stick for yourself. Well, it is for me. I don’t improve me for Mark or my daughters. I do it for me. You hear about this all the time. For weight loss, for smoking cessation, for anything that people do for their health, until it means something them, they can’t do it. Once it means something to them, that’s when they can do it.

For me, the self-confidence and self-esteem are a tangled Gordian knot. I succeed at something, I feel better about myself. And, if I don’t succeed at something, I don’t automatically feel badly about myself. Oh, sure, I feel momentarily gut-wrenched. Then, I use my problem solving skills to say, “Okay, now what do I do?” In PSL, we call this the ‘Oh boy. Now, let’s solve the problem’-moment.

And, if I don’t succeed, it’s not the end of the world. Last year at the AYE conference, each host led problem-solving clinics at the end of the “Design the Conference” session on Monday morning. I didn’t handle mine that well. I was kicking myself mentally at the end of it. One of the participants suggested something I could have done better. I was all set to defend myself, and I stopped, and said, “Thank you.” Because, he was right.

He seemed surprised to hear me thank him. And my reaction transformed our relationship right then and there. He was more open with me throughout the conference.

Our self-esteem shows up in unexpected ways. Think about how you react when someone provides you feedback, good or bad. Do you shrug it off or say thank you? I used to become upset when I read bad reviews of my books or my articles. Now, I think, “Oh, I either wrote something that really connected with that person and it’s not about me or my writing,” or “I didn’t write that well so that person misunderstood,” or, “I really blew it.” I have an opportunity to do better with my next article or book.

The third part of the inner selves is the self-concept. For those of us who are adults, our self-concept is often tied up in our jobs. Let me caution you now:

You are not your job!

The very first time I was laid off, I was all out of sorts. I’d been a software developer. My job title was senior software engineer. Could I keep saying I was software engineer if I was no longer employed? I was all confused.

My self-concept now is much deeper than my title. I still introduce myself as a management consultant, because people want to know my job.

Now, when I think of self-concept, I think of adjectives to describe me, such as: driven, thoughtful, sharp, goal-oriented, field-marshal, quick to laugh, persevering, those kinds of adjectives. I often think of myself as a problem-solver and a lifelong learner.

So, these inner selves of ours, self-confidence, self-esteem, and self-concept, how do we strengthen them? First, recognize that they are linked together. For me, that was an aha moment. Second, you can build your self-confidence by succeeding in small chunks with small doable goals. The more you succeed, the more you grow as a human. The more you grow, the more your self-concept grows, and the more your self-esteem grows. The more your self-concept grows and the more your self-esteem grows, the more your self-confidence grows. It’s a positive feedback loop, based on taking that one small step. Gee, does that sound familiar at all?

Since you are not me, you are going to do this your way. I hope you decide to share either how you have built your self-confidence and how that has worked for you. I realize that being super-competitive with yourself is not what everyone needs! I suspect that small steps and getting feedback on each step from trusted colleagues or friends might work for you. If it fits for you, please share.

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Mar 27

When Life Hands You Lemons…Solve a New Problem

Posted on March 27, 2012 by johanna

I had a rough February. First came the vertigo attack on Feb 1. Then I fell on Feb 8 in the gym with Erik and broke my “indestructible” glasses. (Oh yeah? I’ll give you indestructible.)

I wrenched my problematic knee on Feb 24, and I had such pain I was not able to dance in the dance competition Mar 3. (Yes, I had a cortisone shot Mar 2, but it’s really stupid to stress your knee right after a cortisone shot. I try not to be stupid.)

I spent February staggering and lurching, trying to return to my previous physical abilities. I finally did on Mar 11. I woke up and was better.

But there are residual effects. I’ve noticed my spelling ability has declined since January. I can no longer spell three syllable words with any consistency. I tried to spell “streetlight” the other day as “streeghtlight.” I knew it was wrong, but I could not see what was wrong. As a previous champion speller, I cannot tell you how frustrating this is. It might be another form of aphasia. It might not. (When I’m dehydrated, I have expressive aphasia.)

Vestibular conditions absorb all your brain energy. Of course, they don’t use any of your food. No, that would be too easy. I might be able to lose weight. No, they just absorb all the glucose in your brain and all the hydration in your body. Maybe. All I know is that the vertigo fog is better some minutes and worse others. And, I struggle to lose the weight I still want to lose.

So, I use spell-checkers more often, and I ask other people for review, just as I normally do. I’m a writer. I know I need review. I stick with my meal plan. I drink tons of water.

I’ve been trying to stay positive, but it’s a minute-to-minute thing. My condition overwhelms me at times.

Professionally, life is great. Personally, life is great. Physically, life stinks. And, I’m a whole person. I can’t separate these pieces of me. Just because I’m “on top” in some ways doesn’t mean I’m not on the bottom in others.

Am I depressed? Probably. I am sad. Am I going to do something about it? Yes, in the sense that I will continue to wake up every day and go to work.

I don’t think that these times are a test, like Job. They are times to get through. I take a small step and see where I am. Take another one and see where I am. Take a drink of water (that omnipresent water), another small step.

I had plenty of pity parties in February and early March. That’s because my state was not sustainable. Lurching and staggering through life, seeing the world move every time I turn my head because the medication isn’t working–that’s not a sustainable life. I had no idea what I would do about it. I still don’t, meaning I don’t have plan. I keep solving the next problem.

There’s a great book by Carol Dweck, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. In it, she discusses the growth mindset and the fixed mindset. If you have the growth mindset, you believe you can learn and grow. If you have the fixed mindset, you believe you are stuck and will never improve. I have the growth mindset, even about learning foreign languages. Here’s a quote from the book I have found helpful:

The more depressed people with the growth mindset felt, the more they took action to confront their problems, the more they made sure to keep up with their schoolwork, and the more they kept up with their lives. The worse they felt, the more determined they became!

If you keep going, you keep going. That is, your determination, your perseverance can see you through. I solve the next problem and keep going.

Perseverance doesn’t work by itself. When my doctors aren’t ready to persevere with me, I know it’s time to find new doctors. And, the time between the old doctors and the new doctors I was teetering on the edge of emotional hell. Especially because my vertigo chose that time to go haywire.

We had a session at the AYE conference in 2010 called, Solve, Cope, Manage, Exit. You can try to solve the problem, cope with it, manage it, or exit. The problem is if the problem is your life, exiting is not the solution. I had to reframe the problem to decide what to do. In my case, finding a new doctor was a solution. So exiting from the previous doctor and working with a new doctor was the solution I chose for now.

I don’t have all the answers for me. I certainly don’t have answers for you. But I do have a question for you, that you can consider, with any luck before you have these lemons in your life. How are you going to solve this problem?

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Mar 20

Belgium Visit With Friends and a Wheelchair

Posted on March 20, 2012 by johanna

I’m back from Belgium Testing Days. I had a blast.

When I was in Belgium, I had a chance to visit with Yves Hanoulle and his delightful family. Lisa Crispin and her husband Bob and I took the train out to see Yves. I’d asked in email how large the gap between the train and the platform is. Yves said that they were retrofitting trains to reduce the gap.

Well, not on our train. Big gap. And, we had to change trains at a station without a working elevator. When I try to take an escalator, I get dizzy and nauseous because my oscillopsia kicks in. (When I look down, the world moves up/down/sideways. I can’t tell where the moving stairs are.) So I take elevators or stairs. Since the elevator didn’t work, I took the stairs, then took Bob’s hand and we sprinted toward the train we needed. I’m pretty speedy when I have another hand and my cane.

We had tons of fun with Yves and his family. Did I remember I had a camera and a phone with a camera? No. No pictures at all. Grumble. Jet lag. That’s all I can say.

I stayed safe by asking for help.

The next day, the organizers had arranged a surprise which turned out to be sightseeing. Well, European sightseeing almost always involves walking on cobblestones, which is beyond my capabilities. I asked a bunch of questions, and said I would stay at the hotel. They would have none of it. Since we were right next to the airport, they commandeered a wheelchair, and that was it.

I had some of the biggest names in software testing pushing me around Leuven, Belgium.

Julian Harty pushing me

Julian Harty took the first shift.

He even popped some wheelies, which made it easier to get over the curbs and the cobblestones.

Bumping over the cobbles was not easy for me–every bump still jostled my brain which made me dizzy. But I didn’t have to walk, so it was easier.

I missed getting a picture of Lloyd Roden pushing me.

I did get Lee Copeland. He is standing in front of the elevators with me.

I am glad to have participated in the sightseeing.

After that, we made dinner. Well, everyone else made dinner. I sat and talked to Karen Johnson. I hadn’t had a chance to schmooze with Karen in years, so that was quite fun.

It was a very long day. In retrospect, too long for me. I was exhausted. I should know better. But the extrovert in me wants to be with the people. The damaged part of me needs more rest. The problem is that the vertigo always trumps the personality. Always.

But I asked for help, I took the help, and I had a great time with friends. And, I got to see a little part of Belgium. Fun!

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Feb 17

OOP 2012 Pecha Kucha Video Posted

Posted on February 17, 2012 by johanna

At OOP 2012, I took the opportunity to develop and present a Pecha Kucha. Here’s how you say Pecha Kucha:

First, say the Yiddish word, “tchotchke,” Now, adapt the word to “tch-otch-ka.” Yes, that’s not a word. We’re getting there. Now, add a “peh” in front of it. You have “peh-tch-otch-ka.” And, if you are enthusiastic, add a little arm swing. Pecha Kucha’s are fun to develop and fun to watch. I hope the OOP folks post all of them. They were great!

Here is mine:

Jutta Eckstein, I appreciate you for inviting me to OOP to give a talk. Martin Heider and Bernd Schiffer, I appreciate you for organizing the Pecha Kucha and the videos of it. The gentleman who actually videod: I appreciate you too. And, I appreciate me for having the guts to put it all out there.

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Feb 08

Emotional Resilience, Part 2, Problem Solving

Posted on February 8, 2012 by johanna

In Siebert’s model, part 2 of building your emotional resilience is problem solving. Well, I know a lot about problem solving. I teach Problem Solving Leadership with Jerry and Esther.

Siebert says, on p. 54 of the Resiliency Advantage:

The most resilient people, in contrast, control their emotional reactions in a crisis, engage the problems, then process their feelings afterward.

I bet most of us do, in normal circumstances. The key is how well do we? How many approaches do we use? This is where teaching PSL has helped me more than I could ever have imagined. I have an opportunity to practice teaching people how to examine a situation, how to see the problem(s), and how to clarify the outcomes they want. That means I get to practice as I teach. I’ve been teaching influence this year, too. Being specific on the outcome you want is a huge piece of that. So, I’ve been practicing the problem solving I need to do.

There’s another piece of the puzzle. Your emotions are an integral part of your problem solving. Barbara Frederickson’s Positivity shows that positive emotions broaden your cognitive skills. So, if you really want to be able to solve problems, you should have fun doing it.

This is why simulations work in workshops (and why I use them). This is why what you remember seems sharper when you have fun with friends. This is why when I learn to master my balance with dance moves, it’s easier, because I’m having fun. I even have fun in the gym because I enjoy being with Erik. Siebert says

Play, for instance, builds physical skills, self-mastery, understanding, and improves health.

Maybe we should build more play into school, eh?

And, of course, there are three kinds of intelligence. (Siebert explains lots of things in threes):

  • Analytical intelligence-logic, reason, and abstract thinking used to solve familiar problems
  • Creative intelligence-used to invent unusual solutions in new and unfamiliar circumstances
  • Practical intelligence-applied to solving situational, real-life problems. 

I’ve certainly had a chance to exercise all of my problem-solving skills managing my vertigo. I keep a health history and log of my vertigo attacks, looking for patterns (analytical). I keep canes around the house and invent “tools” to help me reach things and walk places I can’t normally go (creative). I use canes, have a very bright flashlight in my pocketbook so I can walk safely, a handicap placard so I can park close, and all kinds of other tools so I can be comfortable and safe throughout the day and leave the house (practical). And, Mark and the girls and I laugh as much and as often as possible.

As you think about your emotional resilience, think about your problem solving. Do you fully engage all three parts of your problem-solving self: your analytical self, your creative self, and your street-smart self? Is one of those problem-solving selves more developed than another? Can you think of ways to develop the other parts more fully, especially while having fun doing it?

And, for those of you who are wondering, yes, we have 9 spaces left in PSL for May 2012.

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Feb 07

Building My Emotional Reslience, Part 1

Posted on February 7, 2012 by johanna

I had another vertigo attack last week. I had a head cold, possibly a case of the flu, and boom, a vertigo attack. I wrote it up, so you could see what’s it like to be inside a vertigo attack. It’s not fun.

My assessment of where I am physically, is that my balance is about where it was 6-8 months ago. My proprioception (my knowledge of where I am in space) is about where it was a year ago. My balance is better, because I have more tools from Erik, the BrainPort, and dance. My tinnitus is worse, and my ocular reflex is worse–what I see when I turn my head. Translation: I’m dizzy, and need to use my cane and walls to walk. I bend over as little as possible. I stay in closed position in dance. I’m walking slowly at the gym, even with my cane, because my balance is so off.

My emotional balance isn’t so hot either. Not so surprising. I’m applying the lessons I have learned and am still learning from Siebert’s book, The Resiliency Advantage: Master Change, Thrive Under Pressure, and Bounce Back from Setbacks.

Siebert says that the first form of emotional resilience is to optimize your physical health. Well, I can’t do that in the middle of a vertigo attack. But, I can do that after an attack. If I’m falling over, I don’t work out. But I was back at dance, in a limited capacity, the day after my attack. I was back in the gym, doing strength training only, two days later. I have to be strong to keep up with Erik.

I have to keep working out, otherwise I fall over more. And, the workouts stretch me in more than physical ways. They bring me face-to-face with the reality that my life is different and will never be the same.

Building my emotional resilience via building physical health can be a challenge. As my vestibular therapist said, you have to be mentally tough to live with vertigo. Sometimes I wonder about going to the gym or going to dance. And, I feel so much better after I go, that I know I’m doing the right thing.

So, as you think about your emotional resilience, think about easy ways you can build your physical health to create your emotional resilience. If it’s too hard to build your physical health, you won’t do it. Just enough challenge is the right amount. For me, strength training, and scurrying after Erik in the gym is the right amount on a daily basis. Add in the dance classes, and I’m happy.

The physical challenges build my emotional capabilities. I think it’s because I build on small successes. Maybe because for an hour every day, I am too busy to think about how my body doesn’t work the way it used to, and how it does work now. I know my dance form has improved. I can see my strength has improved. Those successes build my resilience.

As you think about your emotional resilience, consider your physical health. What can you do, that you can fit into your day so it’s easy, that would provide you challenge and a sense of physical well-being and satisfaction? That’s how to use your health to build your emotional resilience. And that’s just the first step.

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