📖 The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras

By Jules Verne

🎥 Glass

On healing retreat

A trip to the local rec center can bring more real-life inspiration than watching the Olympic Games.

A couple days ago, I recorded a podcast episode about my experience at the rec center called At Your Own Pace. Yesterday, I took another walk around the rec center track, and wanted to share some additional thoughts.

People watching

I noticed more about the people around me this time. Not just the people on the track, but the people played pickleball and basketball down below. The people lifting weights. The people on the stairmasters. The people on the treadmills. As I discussed in my podcast, there is huge variety in the people at the rec center. The track is pretty small, so I saw a number of these people over and over as I walked around.

Treadmill guy

My walk lasted 45 minutes, and early on, I noticed a guy running on a treadmill. I didn’t pay much attention to him at the time, but as I got close to the end of my walk I realized that he was still there. Still running. He was not particularly athletic. He was younger than I, around the same height, and a bit heavier. And he just kept running. I started to pay more attention as I made my rounds. His shirt was completely soaked with sweat—wet shoulders, wet chest, wet back. Just before I ended my walk, I saw him get off. I walked over to him, apologized for interrupting his solitude, and told him that he inspired me more than anyone else there. He was taken aback, and responded, “Me?” I confirmed and wished him a good day.

I shared that story because of how much it affected me. I felt some anxiety as I considered approaching him, but I felt strongly that he deserved to know what an impact he had on me. After talking to him, I felt a surge of positive emotion, and hope that he did as well. It is something I would like to feel more often.

Olympics

Growing up, the Olympics were a huge deal in my family. I remember gathering around the TV and watching all sorts of events together. Whichever events and whichever athletes my dad cheered for became critically important to my young mind. I loved the experience of watching people who had trained so diligently perform otherworldly feats that I could only dream of. I was touched by the camaraderie I saw between people of all nationalities. The Olympics inspired me.

As I have grown up, I see more nuance with the Olympics. They still inspire me. But now I recognize more of what’s involved. As I watch TV specials about the athletes’ childhoods, I realize how much they and their families had to sacrifice in the service of my entertainment. Obviously there is much more at play than the few seconds of entertainment that is provided. But the utter absorption into their sports required by the athletes feels like a higher and higher cost.

Relatable inspiration

As I walked around the rec center track, I realized that I was feeling inspiration similar to what I get watching the Olympics. But there was a huge difference. I was inspired by the people at the rec center, not to dream of accomplishing the impossible, but to make small and meaningful changes. I saw myself in the treadmill guy, with just a little bit of chunk hanging out over his shorts. I saw him doing something to improve his health and his life. I saw middle-aged women on the exercise bike who were never going to be Olympic athletes, but they are going to be healthier today than they were yesterday. I saw old men with canes out on the track getting passed by everyone and continuing to walk around.

I saw greatness in the rec center that day. And I wanted to be better myself.

Oh, to be like a flower. Perhaps even a lily of the field. From my Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

Tweaked my site design to have a dark theme by default, and adapt for light appearance where that’s possible. As someone who lives in dark mode, this feels much better. 👨🏻‍💻

This is a big part of why I am trying to meditate more. There are mental skills that I desire, and the skill of concentration will help enable the others. From my Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

I share my thoughts from time spent at the rec center, and how those can be applied to life more generally.

Links:

Being the worst

One of the fastest ways to grow is to put ourselves in situations where we are inexperienced or even incompetent.

I took the opportunity the other day to join in an open Pickleball night at the local rec center. This was my second time ever playing in my life, and while I had a great time, I commented to a friend the next day,

You can only be the worst at something for so long, and then you have to leave 😉

This feeling was most pronounced in my final game. I was paired with a fairly experienced player, against two other experienced players. I was clearly the weak link. My shots were inconsistent and my partner was not able to carry us. We ended up losing 2-11.

After leaving, a few lessons stuck out to me. First, recognizing that I was an inferior player made me extremely humble. I was ready and eager to accept any instruction, hint, or encouragement from other players. While I am a fairly competitive person, it is hard to get too worked up when I know from the beginning that I am likely to lose. So being the worst changed my attitude and approach.

You often hear the virtues of a “beginner’s mind” extolled as a way to stay open to new ideas and to be able to learn from anywhere. Having this mindset allows you to be more pliable and teachable as you recognize how much you stand to learn. When you are not only a beginner, but the only beginner amongst non-beginners, this experience is heightened considerably.

Finally, being the worst removes you from the dangerous grip of imposter syndrome. This often creeps in when you start to fear that others view you as more capable than you feel, and worry that you will be discovered. When you are clearly the worst, that fear is washed away. No one thinks you are better than you are, although the reality is that you are almost certainly better than you think you are.

If you have the psychic resilience, regularly putting yourself in situations where you are the worst is a fantastic way to learn and grow. You will have empathy for those who are worse than you in other aspects of your life. Just make sure that in your quest to gain compassion for others, you preserve a healthy dose of compassion for yourself as well. You are going to need it.

🎥 Green Book

Alone on healing retreat

Breathtaking view on the way to my therapist. It must be a sign. ☺️

I have come to hate this phrase as a greeting. 😡

As I wrote about recently, I have been struggling lately with mental health challenges. This has made me more aware than ever of how often people ask a deep and probing personal question as a greeting with no thought or consideration behind it. It is an easy question to throw out, and at times an impossible one to answer.

Here are some examples of these deeply intimate and personal questions masquerading as greetings:

• How are you?
• How’s it going?
• How have you been?
• How you doing?

Even if the person you are greeting is not suffering in some way, although nearly everyone is, asking a personal question as a greeting is uncouth. Our socially-acceptable response is a lie, followed by an equally thoughtless question.

How’s it going?

Fine. How are you?

Good.

Good.

If someone ever stops and truly answers the greeting question, you are taken aback. Even more so if the answer is not shallow and positive.

One major problem I have with these greetings is the implied level of intimacy. Who are you to ask me how I’m doing? I don’t care about you enough to give you those details! I don’t want to tell you what my life is like right now. And I sure as heckfire don’t want to have to lie to you and tell you that I’m doing well, or even fine. I am not fine! And it’s none of your business!

In my more calm moments, I have come up with a solution that I find elegant and simple. I merely sidestep the question.

How are you?

Hey, it’s good to see you!

This has many benefits. First off, I don’t have to confront the dilemma of divulging too many personal details or telling an outright lie. Secondly, I am more direct and honest. In nearly all cases, I really am glad to see the person, I just don’t want to have an intimate conversation. Finally, it’s an extremely low-effort sifting process. Those who actually care how I’m doing will appreciate my sincere words, and will return to the question they consciously intended to ask. Those who don’t care won’t even notice. To them, I exchanged one socially-acceptable greeting for another.

Eventually, this question won’t bother me so much. When that day comes, I pray that I will remember how much it did bother me so I can be compassionate to others who are suffering. Until then, I will continue my sidestep enough that it will come with practiced ease.

This is so important. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Thomas S. Monson:

Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved

From my Daily Calm

My first microcast episode is mostly an introduction to me and where I’m at right now. I explore a bit of my mental health journey, and the kinds of things I’m working on right now in order to heal.

Links:

Coming out 💮 (tl;dr Hi, I’m Ben, and I have OCD. 👋)

So easy to forget. And so important to remember. Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

So much easier said than done, but this is my quest right now. Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

I sure love Sundays. It was a great opportunity to worship and feel close to my Savior, Jesus Christ. I need that more than ever these days.

🎙This episode was so perfect for me today. John Green describes what OCD is like for him in a past episode of my newly-found and now-favorite podcast, The Hilarious World of Depression.

This is why I choose to focus on healing right now. I see no other way. Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

tl;dr Hi, I’m Ben, and I have OCD. 👋

I am not gay. I am happily married to the woman of my dreams, and we have six wonderful children. My coming out is of an entirely different nature. Hopefully no one who is gay is offended at my co-opting the phrase “coming out”—it felt the most appropriate for the emotional struggle I have found in coming to terms with this huge part of my life and my identity.

There is no one label that defines who I am. But I have realized that having OCD has defined a great deal of my life to this point. It feels like a big step to be able to finally acknowledge that, both to myself and to others. So, today I am announcing that I have obsessive-compulsive disorder, along with generalized anxiety disorder and panic disorder.

Having vs. being

When I first starting writing this post, I wrote that I am OCD, but as I kept writing, it felt better to change it to say I have OCD. That minor change in language represents a major change in my mindset, and one that I hope to preserve, or at least to come back to again and again. This issue (or any other!) does not define me, but it is something that I carry and has shaped my experience.

Some background

I grew up a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and that continues to be an integral part of my life. Like in many Christian faiths, we were taught about faith and works. “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). Unfortunately, our culture, both in my church and in my family, was one of absolutes as well as black and white thinking. Every choice was righteous or evil. Every decision brought me closer to Satan or the Savior. There was no room for gray.

In this world, I thrived. I embraced black and white and one of my favorite scriptures was Revelation 3:16, “So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth.” By no means was I perfect. But I sure tried. And when I failed, I made sure that I knew it loud and clear. In many ways, I was not alone in ensuring this. When I brought a report card home with six A’s, and an A-, I knew the reception would be, “What’s wrong? Why did you get an A-?” That became the voice inside my head.

Unwittingly, I pushed myself harder and harder, and further and further into a dark place. Part of the problem was that not only was my behavior not seen and understood as unhealthy, but it was rewarded and reinforced. Years passed and I met an amazing woman, and somehow she agreed to marry me, and we started a family. I worked hard to be a good husband and father. More accurately put, I berated myself for every shortcoming when I was not a perfect husband or father.

My journey

Last April, I had the good fortune to attend the Peers Conference in Austin, Texas. On the first day, we participated in breakouts that were like group therapy sessions. I shared some of my thoughts and feelings about work, and the dissatisfaction I was feeling, and the facilitator suggested that my concerns had nothing to do with work. He suggested that I find a counselor, particularly one who shared my faith and understood that part of my life. I was taken aback—counseling was not something I had ever considered before.

Over the summer, I began to see a chiropractor for the first time. I then experienced my first panic attack, and was referred to a fantastic therapist by my chiropractor. After the first visit, I told my wife, “It’s like speaking with a skilled friend.” My therapist saw through me and could identify so many of my smokescreens and crutches. As we ended the first session, she said (I’m paraphrasing a bit because I don’t remember her exact words), “You do not have perfectionistic tendencies as you suggested. You are a violent perfectionist and it is damaging you and your relationships.”

Part of the challenge for me was in accepting that my OCD is different than what I expected. I don’t have to turn the lights off twenty times. I don’t have to wash my hands endlessly (unless, of course, I get something on them!). One of my favorite TV shows is Monk. I identified with so much of what he feels and says. But at the same time, I found my own situation to be so different than his that I felt sure that this is not what I have.

As an aside, my wife and I were in the middle of rewatching all eight seasons of Monk when I experienced my first panic attack and started seeking help, and we decided that I had better take a break until I feel less suggestible. 😂

As I met with a psychiatrist and started medication, I experienced the onset of panic disorder. We experimented with medication, and I am on my fourth try and finally starting to feel some relief. As my therapist has helped me see, part of the challenge with OCD is that it works…until it doesn’t. I have developed compulsions and coping mechanisms that are so ingrained that I don’t even recognize them as such yet. But the journey has begun.

My current state

I would like to think that I hit rock bottom a couple weeks ago. After a day with three panic attacks, and some unsafe thoughts, I admitted myself to a crisis center for a night to make sure that I was stable and safe. Since that point, I have continued to improve. I am surrounded by loving and caring people who have given me unconditional support.

Some days, all that support makes it worse. I told a support group this week that each new relationship feels like another chance to let someone down. But I have come to accept that.

The truth is that I will let people down. I am not enough. The beauty is that I don’t have to be. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is so much more important and impactful than the culture in which I grew up. I don’t have to be enough because I have a Savior who is enough. That teaching got lost for me somewhere along the way, and I still struggle to hold on to it. But I have hope.

Looking forward

Some of my fantastic support comes from people at work. My boss and HR leader suggested that I consider taking some time off to heal, which I have done. So I am on extended leave from work. I have stepped back from my volunteer church assignment. I am getting more counseling and starting to take steps toward healing.

I am a long way from better. But I finally realize and accept that. It took me a while to get to this point, but I am now fine telling anyone about my situation. It is no longer a badge of shame. And it is certainly not a failure.

I am Ben, and I have OCD.

And that’s ok.

P.S. I have tagged this post with an emoji: 💮. I plan to post occasionally about my state or my progress and will use this emoji to identify mental-health related posts. This should make it easy to find the ones that you might want to read (or skip!).

I really liked this note on Emojipedia, which is why I chose it:

The Apple artwork contains Japanese text on the inside that translates to mean “Well Done” or “You did very well”.

It might not be the perfect emoji for this purpose, but that is beautiful in its own way. I need to embrace a little imperfection in my life.

The phrase “I’m sorry” has so many potential meanings and applications that it is nearly incomprehensible.

My wife and I have worked on removing it from our conversation with each other in favor of more explicit phrases. There are two main substitutes we use instead:

• “I send you compassion”
• “I apologize”

One of the main reasons that drove us to make this change came from the compassionate style of “sorry” usage. Often, exchanges went something like this:

I’m sorry that happened.

It’s ok. It wasn’t your fault.

I wasn’t actually taking the blame for it.

Oh. Right.

Usually that second speaker was me. 😆

After this had happened enough times, I asked if we could try to make a change so I could more easily understand with clarity.

I have found that a side effect of using this increased precision of language is a greater feeling of intentionality. It can be all too easy when seeing someone suffering to blithely toss an “I’m sorry” their way. Consciously stopping to say the words has helped me feel more actual compassion. I also feel a heightened sense of accountability when I wronged someone and then realize it and deliberately apologize.

If this has resonated with you, I invite you to join me in a practice of greater compassion and accountability through increased precision of language. I hope you find as beneficial as I have.

I have found that truly thinking for myself is harder to do than I ever imagined. Still working on it in many ways. Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

📖 Read: Ultralight

By Leo Babauta

This is where I need to focus right now—getting to know myself better. Daily Calm 🧘🏻‍♂️

🎥 Bohemian Rhapsody

Solo date

🎙 Finished: Believed

This was hard to listen to, and harder to think about, but as a father of three girls, it felt important to me to confront what’s possible in this world. I pray that I will always err on the side of believing those whose lives have been shattered.