Out Of Tune

02.17.09

The ability to tune in to the people around you is an important skill for parents, child care providers, foster parents, teachers, husbands, and wives. Stopping your mind from its constant flutter between past and future moments and letting it settle gently in the present allows for clearer thinking. When we are tuned in, we are better listeners and more receptive to the body language of the people around us. Our judgment is better and our focus is clearer when we are tuned in. We are simply better at all the things we do when our minds are clear and tuned in to the moment we are living.

Today I am out of tune.

Seven years ago today cancer killed my father. First it took half a lung. Then it went away for a while. Then it attacked his spin and hips, killing him quickly and painfully.

Six years ago this week I quit a job I had loved for 16 years. I had no idea I was burnt out and at the end of my rope until I found myself quitting.

Four years ago today I realized that there was a connection between losing my dad and quitting that job. I thought I was dealing well with his loss, but looking back I realized I was still carrying lots of pain, anger, fear, and frustration. Every year at this time an inner darkness rears its ugly head in my subconscious mind casting me into a funk that scatters my mind.

Today. Well, today I woke up knowing I would be out of tune. I knew I would have a hard time reading the signals I was receiving from other people. I knew my mind would be hazy. I knew things would not click the way they usually do. I knew that instead of feeling flow I would feel more like a flop.

I also knew that these things were OK. I don’t have to be in top form every day. It’s OK to be off now and then. It is OK to be out of tune once and a while. It’s OK to flop from time to time.

A lot of us have a hard time realizing this. We want the world to see us as near-perfect. We don’t want to look weak, vulnerable, out of control, or defenseless. We want to look like we are ready at all times to take on the world and all the challenges it can toss our way.

When we try to appear all powerful and always in control we all too often end up wearing masks to hide our true selves from the world. When my dad was dying I distanced myself from him because that distance helped me keep my “I’m In Control” mask on. It helped me look strong while I was falling apart inside. The same with that job. I spent years trying to hide from the fact that I was stressed, anxious, tense, and unhappy. I wore a happy-face mask for the world, but was far from happy.

Today. Today I am mask-less. I am sad, I am listless, I am partly cloudy, I am out of tune, and I am OK with that. I am breathing deep and trying to keep my mind in the room and in the moment.

Sharing all this inner junk is not easy, but I think it is useful in making the larger points that:

• We don’t have to look perfect because the world is not watching as closely as we think.

• It is OK to be out of tune now and then.

• Being out of tune is easier if you know it is happening and can identify its cause.

• Its OK to take off your mask once and a while and just be you living your life.

Life has taught me that the more sincere and genuine we are with the people we encounter the better. It takes less effort to be real; keeping track of all those masks takes a lot of work. Caregivers and parents need to realize it is OK to just be human and experience the emotions that come with humanness. It is OK to spend time feeling your emotions. It is OK to revisit them. It is OK to have down days. It is OK to be out of tune.

I expected to be out of tune all day. I planned for it. Then, out of nowhere this little critter crawled into my lap and helped lift me out of my funk. I’ve spent a lot of time tuning in to her needs and trying to make sure they were met. Then she turned the tables on me. She tuned in and gave me something I needed when I needed it.

Here’s what happened:

I was sitting in the window seat of our playroom earlier today, when two-year-old Annie climbed onto my lap. She snuggled for a while as we both looked out the window and watched the world, then she whispered, “Wrong, Jeff?”

“I’m just sad today”, I told her.

She took my cheeks in her little hands as she asked, “Hug?”

“I would like a hug”, I told her as she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed. Then she snuggled into my right shoulder like she has been doing since she was only a few weeks old and softly patted my back.