Full Focus Counseling
Scott Thode, LPC
I wrote a poem about an ocean wave. It’s a true story.
I was in the ocean once
Floating on my back
Minding my business
The waters were quite calm
I was at peace
Unexpectedly
A wave caught me
Rolled me over
Slammed me against the ocean floor
My body thrashed uncontrollably
Salt water torpedoed through my nose
There was nothing I could do
Then the wave let up
And it was over
I found myself
On the shore
Banged up a bit
And a little dazed
But I was okay
I stood up
Walked back out into the ocean
To float on my back once more.
Sometimes we are peacefully floating on our backs when something unexpected happens, and our lives are thrown into chaos. You did nothing wrong. There’s no one really to be mad at either. Things just happen sometimes.
In a microcosm, that’s what my experience in the ocean represents.
When we get swept up in a wave, we have no choice but to go with it and accept the loss of control for a while. It’s so important, though, to remind ourselves that the wave will eventually let up. No need to resist. Just ride the wave, and if we pay close attention, we’ll notice when we’ve made it back to shore.
The wave analogy captures something about the human condition. Nature is powerful. And it’s not just physical nature like oceans and mountains and storms, but psychological nature as well, like depression and anxiety and confusion.
Heavy feelings and the thoughts that accompany them are pieces of nature too. We can hate them all we want, but they deserve our respect. And maybe even our curiosity.
The shore— this is another important metaphor. We have to notice once we’ve made it back to shore because that’s when we’ve regained a sense of control. We can stand up again, look out at what’s in front of us, and begin charting a path forward.
Strangely, the shore can be hard to notice sometimes. The water is plenty calm and shallow enough, yet it feels as if we can’t stand. This is when we can become attached to pain, and if we aren’t careful, helplessness can become our identity. So it’s deeply important to realize when you’re back on the shore. The wave is no longer dictating what you do. There may be wounds that need continued care, but a sense of agency is restored.
In other words, I’m talking about resilience.
What an interesting concept: Resilience. I never get tired of pondering it. I’m moved when I see it in others. I feel proud when I can find it within myself. Life can be brutal at times, no question about it. Yet resilience is woven into the human spirit. It’s there for all of us if we are willing to notice.
Marcus Aurelius is an inspiration to me. If you’re not familiar, he was the Roman Emperor from the years 161 to 180. His personal diary was found a long time ago and published in a book called “Meditations.” I highly recommend it. Aurelius’ style of journaling is something that I’ve stolen from him. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Basically, his diary is full of personal insights and advice to himself. I have found this method to be a really effective therapeutic tool. Anyway, thought I’d share some of my recent “meditations.”
When I’m on my deathbed, I want to be looking forward to an eternal sleep. I want to have given my all to this life. When people walk past my casket, I hope they think, “damn he’s dead as hell; nothing more left to give.”
I started believing that my life matters, and it’s changed everything. It requires a little faith, but somehow, I was able to buy in. I wake up, and I have work to do, I have studying to get done, I have responsibilities. This shit matters. LFG.
When life feels hollow, it’s often because my connection to faith has weakened. The cure is to plug back in again and again and again.
Remember: Faith is a balance. Keep it practical and down to earth without overindulgence or pompousness.
There’s always going to be some anxiety. How you interpret and relate to that anxiety is what matters most.
I remember when I was a kid playing basketball, and I often felt anxiety before a game. When I interpreted it as fear, I played scared. But when I interpreted it as energy, I played energized. I didn’t know it at the time, but this insight helped prepare me for life.
Keep this on your mind: Don’t play scared. It’s one of the worst things you can do.
Relationships, relationships, relationships. This is the core ingredient in life. Relationships require work. Conflict is inevitable. Note to self: Communicate with intention, and don’t let your feelings get in the way of understanding others.
Know what’s important. If everything is important, nothing is important. Some things have to matter more than others. Create a values map, then follow the map. It will get me to where I need to go.
Alive in 2025, and you have several roles to fulfill. In order to fulfill them well, you need to know what you’re doing. Write out your job descriptions. Be clear on what kind of father, husband, son, brother, friend, and worker you want to be.
Continue to work on developing an action bias. You tend to think too much. Thinking can be helpful, but it’s not doing. Get to the doing a step or two more quickly.
Contemplate the Good every day. What is it? How do I move toward it? What changes do I need to make? It’s an imperfect journey, but one worth traveling.
Oh yeah, and don’t ever forget: Attitude is everything.
Difficult feelings are a rather regular and normal aspect of human nature. To some extent, I have them just about every day. Do you?
The challenge is that we are often using a subconscious framework to cope with our feelings. Whether it’s from culture or our family of origin, we have inherited outdated psychological software that leads to glitches and crashes of varying degrees. We aren’t doomed though. We can study our patterns, troubleshoot, and begin uploading new software to more effectively manage our feelings.
To begin, I often observe two predominant ways of coping with unwanted feelings. One is obsession, and the other is suppression.
Obsession is when your mind is spiraling out of control as you try to think the feeling away. It creates the illusion that you are dealing with or processing the feeling when you really aren’t. You view the feeling itself as something that can be cognitively controlled, but the analytical mind just spins and spins and spins to no avail.
Suppression is when you bury the feeling. This becomes damaging when the feeling comes out in disorganized and chaotic ways. The cyclical pattern of avoidance, build up, and explosion is the way the emotional system says, “don’t ignore me!”
What’s more is people who have obsessive patterns sometimes find themselves in toxic entanglements with people who have suppressive patterns– the common denominator being that both individuals believe (usually subconsciously) the feelings are the problem.
However, feelings typically aren’t the problem. Our beliefs about them and responses to them are. So then, what should we believe about feelings and how should we respond to them?
That’s ultimately for you to determine, but here’s a potential foundational belief worth considering: Feelings are real, but they aren’t always true. In other words, the feeling exists. You are experiencing what you’re experiencing. However, the seeming implications of the feeling may be untrue.
Let’s take the feeling of fear as an example. You FEEL the physiological pattern of energy. The tightening of the chest, the tension in the head, the pit in the stomach. Maybe there are accompanying thoughts that you should run away or that you should shut down. Yes, these inner experiences are happening. But is the emotional thought content true? In most situations, no.
The major concern is that feelings can become woven too tightly into our basic beliefs about how we should or shouldn’t respond. Again, going back to fear: “When I feel fear, I should avoid the situation.” If this belief goes unchallenged and if a new perspective on fear is not adopted, fear will dominate our lives in all sorts of maladaptive ways.
We can take any difficult emotion and put it in this model. What does the feeling of [fear, anger, sadness, disappointment, frustration, etc.] really mean? The answer could be complicated, but it’s also important to ponder whether the feeling means anything at all, which can actually be a key insight.
Anyway, as your beliefs about feelings evolve, your responses to feelings will evolve, and as your responses to feelings evolve, your beliefs about feelings will evolve. Get it? This is bidirectional causality at its finest. To start this process, consider spending some time paying voluntary attention to your feelings. Open attention. Friendly attention. No judgement.
The fact is, at minimum, many feelings need to be noticed and acknowledged for what they are– a pattern of energy that comes and goes. Sometimes paying intentional attention can lead to deeper understanding, but that’s not a requirement. Take some pressure off your mind. Just feel. Just pay attention. Remember to keep it open and friendly. If something profound happens, great. If not, isn’t it interesting how mysterious our feelings can be?
The late great philosopher Ram Das once said something to the effect of, “Every day, I wake up, and I go to school.” He must’ve been in his 50’s or 60’s at the time.
Ram Das was a smart man. Ph.D. level education. Harvard professor. Studied under some of the greatest spiritual teachers of his time. Wrote many books. Gave many lectures. Probably made a nice stack of cash.
On the flip side, he was fired from Harvard. His family and friends would pass away around him. He suffered a near fatal stroke, leaving him totally dependent. He would go on to say, “The stroke was giving me lessons, and I realized that was grace—fierce grace.”
Each and every day Ram Das woke up and went to school. He never graduated. He never made it. He never viewed his life as over while he was still alive. He never gave up on learning. He just kept going to school.
Even very late into his life, he maintained this perspective. He stated, “Now, I am aging. I am approaching death. I’m getting closer to the end. Now, I really am ready to face the music all around me.”
If you’re human, you know how it is. It’s as if we have these check points in life that possess the illusion of finality.
In one direction, there’s the illusion of “my life is all set now!” In the opposite direction, there’s the illusion of “it’s all over now!” Here are some examples. Some are clearer than others as to what category they belong to. Graduations. Landing a job. Promotions. Marriage. Having children. Layoffs. Retirement. Divorces. Injuries. Diagnoses. Deaths of loved ones. And on it goes.
But what happens next? You eventually go to sleep and wake up the next morning, right?
How one experiences that next morning and the many mornings to come depends. And here is where the wisdom of Ram Das comes into play. Those who continue to wake up and go to school both succeed and suffer with grace. They remain curious, open, and as a result, keep learning.
Maybe it’s worth embracing Ram Das’s message and making it a part of how we do life—no matter what happens.
Our attention spans are short.
There are so many sources of potential stimulation competing for our attention. Modern technology allows us to bounce from one activity to the next without any sustained focus. You ever wonder what your great grandparents would think about this way of living?
Our patience is thin.
If the internet is slow or the icemaker stops working, boy are we inconvenienced. Some people feel annoyed, others frustrated, and not exactly a small minority feel rage. Isn’t that something? I have a feeling it didn’t always used to be this way. I wish I could talk to my great grandparents about this. Their minds would be blown.
There is something admirable about watching the elderly shop for groceries. Age will eventually slow us all down, so it’s important to pay close attention. The elderly take their time, partly because they have to, but the ones that really impress me are those that take their time with a noticeably unburdened attitude. It’s as if they are delighted to have found this piece of wisdom.
I’m not exactly sure, but I think the trick is that they truly embrace doing one thing at a time. They just do this, then just that, then just the next thing. Their attention is fully absorbed by each step. Their mindset is calm and patient, with a bend towards positivity. I bet they make fewer mistakes.
Nike was off by a word. The mantra should be “just do this.” Whatever the task is, “just do this.” It’s a useful challenge and a way to ground oneself in the task at hand. This approach can also help us manage anxiety, keep our obsessive, futuristic thinking in check, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll make fewer mistakes too.
Regardless of how much of a do-it-all-all-at-once kind of person one thinks they are, it’s important to acknowledge that our mental capacity is limited. I like to think of the mind as a cup of hot coffee. If you pour too much coffee into the cup, it overflows. But it’s not just overflow that can be a problem. The cup can also be filled too high, which means any slight stumble can lead to a spill. A properly poured cup of hot coffee leaves some space at the top for wiggle room.
Our smart phones are more like a fire hydrant than a Keurig: the light from our screen blares into our eyes, the seductive content we’re rapidly scrolling through, the insecurities that are evoked from all the posts from perfect people, the sensationalized news headlines, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. You know what I’m talking about. The smartphone alone is overflowing many of our mental coffee cups. Add on work, relationships, household chores, and basic self-care, and we quickly realize we may need an inground pool to hold all the metaphorical coffee we’re pouring. But hey, a little space at the top, right?
I digress. Because we don’t honor the nature of our limited minds, our ability to focus is strained, and our patience is shot. We’re stumbling and fumbling, and the costs of our spills can be severe. We have to learn to pour less coffee. Our sanity is on the line.
So, I’ll close with this mantra instead: “just do this and pour less coffee.”
Full Focus Counseling 