Dr. Doner’s Blog

Times can be unbelievably harsh.

It’s relatively easy to adapt to small changes, mustering internal bravado or getting help. But what about when the rug is pulled out from under you, when the very ground shifts … when your entire identity is destroyed?

Such was my situation a few years ago. I thought I knew who I was – a wife of 21 years, a mother of two young children, the home-maker of a beautiful home and a physician with a stable practice.

It all changed much too quickly. A hostile divorce threatened my children, home and finances.

The hospital at which I practiced was in serious danger of being sold and turned into a nursing home.

And to top it all off, a drunk driver rear-ended me, spun the car around, totaled it and almost killed me! Now, no car, no money, and possibly no job, house or custody of children!

With many bitter months ahead in court I knew I had to pull myself together. But who was this “self”? She was no longer a wife or a full-time Mom. She could no longer depend on this man or this savings account. The sanity of other drivers was questionable. It was a very disorienting time. I needed to discover a “self” that could not be destroyed by outside forces.

So, to get the answers I went camping in the Everglades by myself for a week. It was my version of a “vision quest.” I got up at sunrise to greet the sun emerging from the pink and golden bay. I trudged through mangrove thickets, fought mosquitoes, and kayaked amidst alligators. I marveled afresh at the variety of birds and practiced calm presence with water moccasins. In short, I was just with my body and the elements and my form of prayer.

Finally, on the last day’s tromp through the swamp I got “it”.

“Even if I lose all those things that I thought were me – the material stuff and even precious relationships – I will still have my breath. I will still have these two arms swinging along. I will still have my wonder at this beauty around me. I can take refuge in the process of life that reawakens each delightful dawn. And I trust that I am a part of the dynamic whole.”

Now, someone could have told me this but it wouldn’t have helped. I had to have the experience. By learning how to center myself and feel a pure indestructible core of being, I got through the long dark time ahead. We all “survived” but, more importantly, we “thrived” as we grew from these challenges.

I still practice breathing, calming and smiling every day. And because I believe it is the one thing that can keep us all sane, I teach it—to every client, at every workshop and in every CD.

May we all know who we truly are.

I needed a rest—a long rest.

Almost six years ago I had had enough of Internal Medicine. I loved the patients and office staff but was no longer mentally stimulated by the actual tools of healing, namely drugs, tests and surgery. And being on-call 24/7 was much too confining.

So, I sold the practice and am now technically only “working” three days a week as a Hypnotherapist.

But somehow all of the details of life crept into the supposedly “free” time. Days that I was going to devote to creativity, spirituality, family, fun and service were cluttered with the inevitable to-do list. Soon I was “working” every day.

Even worse was my inexhaustible list of ambitions. Unfettered by the pager and emergency room call, my desires knew no bounds! I wanted to create this CD, give that talk, etc…

The result? A cluttered mind and a restless spirit. Certainly not the inner peace and sense of joy I had been craving.

Something had to shift in my consciousness. So in May of 2008 I took the rest my doctor-self prescribed and went searching for whatever it was that I needed – on a solo camping trip in Arizona for three weeks.

And there in the dusty Catalina Mountains, high above my Tucson birthplace, a life-changing insight found me.

Do you remember the Sabbath? Do you keep it “holy”?

I met a couple that does. Over a camp-fire they shared their life-changing decision. That once their weeks were like mine – detail after busy detail but no real rest. And then their rabbi (they were Jewish) reminded the congregation to keep the Sabbath. He promised that it would be better than a day at a spa, every week!

They compiled a list of “not-to’s”: shopping, emails, computer, mail, housework, yard work. And a list of “do”s”: worship, enjoy family and friends, play music, enjoy nature, have fun… The result? “Happier than ever”, they claimed, as we leisurely enjoyed the Sabbath together.

So, I took the vow to keep the Sabbath—whatever that would mean for me. When I got back to Florida it was hard at first. (They told me it might be.) How would I ever get all the work done if I took a full day off each week? Withdrawal from compulsive activity felt like withdrawal from an addiction, leaving a strange void.

And then it turned delightful. Joy filled any void. My Sabbath rules give me permission to play, to spend a whole day with my grandchildren, to spend a morning meditating in nature, to write, to read and to pray.

Initially, I wasn’t sure who I was without the restlessness of ambitions and cravings for success. But after just three months, the Sunday practice of inner peace slowly began creeping into the workweek. My life has become imbued with contentment. No longer tied to accomplishments, satisfaction has become more of a natural way of life.

This is a delightful practice. Perhaps it’s a little different and takes time and commitment to grow into. But the result is worth it. And as I am, you may just find yourself “happier than ever.”

Recommended reading: “Sabbath: Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest” by Wayne Muller.

“The hurrider I go, the behinder I get.” 

Recently I decided that the pace of my life had become much too fast. If the cause of the frantic urgency of my days was the outside world, then I reasoned that withdrawing from it would help immensely.

So, trying to regain some inner peace, I took myself to a four day silent meditation retreat. It was held at a beautiful center in North Florida, Chinsegut Hill, where the centuries-old oaks stretch out their moss-draped arms and the azaleas and camellias bloom pink and red.

The problem of striving for tranquility by not hearing anyone else’s conversation is that the chatter inside your own mind gets even louder! It’s downright embarrassing to hear your thoughts. And the emotions that pop into awareness are extremely childish, even selfish.

One night I was walking towards MY coveted hidden spot—a tree house high in an ancient oak. The gentle moon showed the way and I was also back-lit by an antique lantern. But  meditative calm was shattered by inner urgency when I noticed a shadow of a figure approaching the tree too, in front of me and closer.

“Oh no! It’s MY special place!  Must get there first!” screamed my primal competitive brain. Automatically my stride accelerated. But faster still the figure glided. And quicker and quicker—we both raced to the goal. But it got there first and merged into blackness, climbing the steps, I presumed.

So I rested and waited for it to descend and give me MY turn. But it didn’t, so I waited, but still it didn’t. So I got curious and respectfully tip-toed up the rickety stairs, peering around the corner, and discovered — no one.

The shadow I was racing against had been my own!

The problem of my life’s urgency, I discovered, did not have its origin in the outside world. It had been inside of me all along.

I don’t know about you, but 2007 contained a lot of fear for me.  

As the stocks dipped, so did the safety net of savings. As people had less disposable income, less was spent on non-essentials. People resorted to well-known comfort measures—food and cigarettes, not powerful change techniques such as Hypnotherapy.

My income suffered as has the income of millions of Americans. Construction is down, so I meet licensed electricians bagging groceries in Wal-Mart.  Restaurants are hungry for customers. And we don’t even have to mention the roadside signs of struggle–foreclosure signs, “Will mow your lawn”, or “Fill dirt cheap.”

We are tightening our belts and we are worried.

 What to do with fear?

We all have our strategies. Turning to action— such as better marketing and skill-building. Feeling safer—such as not-spending, hoarding, trying to control what we can control.

Positive thinking, prayer, imagining success, denial, complaining, bonding with others…

Whatever our time-tested coping techniques have been, we use.

 My question is always this:How can I use this adversity to make me a better person? 

Just asking the question every morning brings answers everyday.

For example, that we are all in this mess together and I shouldn’t take it personally (sort of like the hurricanes). And, although this uncertainty is nothing compared with terror in Sudan, I can relate to their suffering with more compassion. And it’s easy to imagine just how little bad luck it would take to actually end up as a homeless family here in the US, living out of a car. If nothing else, this loss of financial security blows away any illusion of security.

 The results of this adversity can be compassion and wisdom. 

Although trying really hard to accept the current situation and work with it, I found myself still wallowing in fear while getting ready for taxes.

“What’s wrong with you? Why didn’t you meet your financial goals last year?” I harshly judged.

So, I asked the question again:

“How can I use this undesirable situation to make me a better person?” 

Have you ever just picked up a book and found the answer?

There it was. The perfect paragraph that would get me up above the whining to a clearer view. And this new perception was in alignment with a value much higher than “Total Income” on the 1040 IRS form.

From the Tears of the Giraffe, the story of the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency, set in Botswana, Africa:

“She had not made a lot of money, but she had not made a loss, and she had been happy and entertained. That counted for infinitely more than a vigorously healthy balance sheet. In fact, she thought, annual accounts should include an item specifically headed Happiness, alongside expenses and receipts and the like. That figure in her accounts would be a very large one, she thought.” 

The riches that count…maybe even the riches that are free… the riches that can’t be taken from us by circumstances…

Happiness. And it’s moment by moment job.

Kathy Doner, MD 2-11-08

“Eating healthy just takes too much time!” protested a retired 65 year old weight loss client of mine. “You know, I’m quite busy with volunteer organizations.”
(I wondered where that belief came from and what purpose it served her?)

“Can we get specific?” I asked her, with a playful attitude.
(No direct confrontation here, because that would bring up resistance.
Beliefs are locked as old patterns in the brain and like to remain as rigid beliefs, almost like immovable concrete. What works so much better than criticizing a belief is to approach it with a willingness to examine it with a sense of curiosity.)

“Specifically, what takes too much time?” I asked.
(Questions are a great way to loosen the concrete of beliefs.)

“Preparing the vegetables,” she decided.
“Which vegetables, specifically?”

She thought about it for a moment and realized: “Well, not the cooked ones because I use frozen vegetables. I guess it’s the tearing up the romaine lettuce for salads.”
“The ‘salad-in-a-bag’ approach won’t work?” I challenged gently.

“No, because the already cut up salad goes bad quicker.”
(Here I was wondering how long it actually takes her to eat up a bag of salad!)
“Well, specifically how long does it take to tear up a bunch of romaine, enough for three and one half days of salad?”

“I guess only ten minutes, and actually I could do it while watching TV!”
“Really? So, preparing enough romaine for seven days would only take twenty minutes. Do you have twenty minutes a week to care for yourself?”

“Of course I do! If you put it that way I guess I was being pretty silly,” she realized.
“The whole idea of eating healthy was just overwhelming! Before, when I took on a diet program it was such an enormous departure from what I was normally doing that it felt like a big effort. But if I break it down into small doable steps I can do it. And preparing crisp green healthy romaine feels good!”

She was right and her healthy eating progressed beautifully, as did the weight loss. She had all the answers inside of her—she just needed to question her old beliefs by asking specific questions.

Beliefs are not concrete – they are not “things.” They are in fact fluid. They were created from certain conditions – inherited from parents or society – or they serve a purpose – preventing this lady from putting more workload onto her overflowing busy life. Beliefs may be useful for awhile but they aren’t necessarily true. In fact, they can hold us back and keep us from moving forward into a healthy life.

When we question them with patient and kind curiosity then we can dismantle them, like taking off layer after layer of excuses. We can finally get to the core reason the belief is there. In this case, the resistance was protecting her from feeling overwhelmed. When she saw that for herself she actually made some decisions to cut back on her outside commitments.

“It makes no sense to help others to the extent that it makes me fat!” she concluded.

The new belief?
“It’s easy to care for myself. I enjoy giving myself the gift of fresh delicious vegetables!”

© 2008 All rights reserved. Kathy Doner, MD kathydonermd.com