Small Successes

One of the biggest benefits I reaped from the REAL program was the acknowledgement of “small successes.” The idea is relatively simple and probably nothing you’ve not heard before, but the phrasing was such that this time it sank in. Or, I suppose I was ready to hear it.

Small successes were not explicitly defined during the workshop, but what I gathered from the stories and conversations about them, a small success is any moment or event in your life during which you feel wholly whole (or centered, calm, joyful, in the flow; you get the idea. . .).

The purpose of identifying small successes was primarily so we could incorporate them into our individual compasses (a concept I hope to revisit with ya’ll at some point). It was also (this is likely the part that may sound familiar) to shift one’s focus from problems or conditions to what is right with life.

See, not so unique of a concept, huh? Yet I have embraced it and each day find myself saying outloud, “A small success!” This has a whole slew of positive effects on my life. Recognizing small successes removes pressure to always do and become more, more, more. It eases doubt and worry. It can be reassuring in the sense that I am usually able to note some progress and growth, no matter how minute. It can also make big scary deals seem littler.


For example, today I met with my therapist, Joan, for the first time in over a year. We have begun working on some of the deeper, thornier issues in my life—things that for the most part I have gotten very good at compartmentalizing and ignoring.

Although our meeting went well and I have been taking good care of myself since, it can be overwhelming to think back to the topics we covered, to consider where I am and where I’ll end up. But you see, rather than struggle with overwhelm, I can choose to consider the small successes.

I took myself to see Joan in the first place. Small success! I took a walk and sat cross legged in a field facing Mount Shasta for an hour after our session, therefore taking another step towards my own healing. Another small success. For a trickier situation to assess: I bought myself a big mug of hot cocoa and a hunk of pumpkin pecan streusel bread. Although this may appear to be an unhealthy choice, I still vote “small success” because I gave myself a little gift of comfort food (yes, and sugar).

In the Enneagram book most recently gifted to me from Carl and Kathy, there is a description of Twos at a healthy level that says, “Healthy Twos let go of the belief that they are not allowed to care for themselves. Thus they can own their feelings and needs and are free to love others without expectations.”

I would say the three examples of today’s small successes that I gave you would put me (for a moment, however brief) into the category of Healthy Twos. And you know what that means. . . another small success. May the trend continue.

Getting REAL

The following is an offline blog I wrote on the first day of that workshop I attended that caused me to be “out of the office” for a solid week. I believe the date was November 12, 2009 . . .

Today was the first of a four day workshop I am attending called the REAL Life Optimization Program. They passed out homework at the end, three assignments with the instruction to choose a minimum of one to complete.

The first option was “Tell three people that you are doing this workshop.” Since three is just about the number of people that read my blog daily I figured this was a perfect way to complete my assignment.

As I understand it, the purpose of telling people about our involvement in such a program is to strengthen our own understanding of why we’re doing it. I suppose it also spreads word of the REAL program, but even if that’s the case, I don’t mind doing a little advertising. I feel good about supporting the people behind this project.

I heard about it in the first place from Tyler, who went through the program with his betrothed last June. He found it highly relevant and encouraged Mom, Dad and myself to go. I probably wouldn’t have, being the high and mighty (and poor) Naropa graduate that I am. I felt like I’d gotten a lot of this “getting real” at the contemplative university where I earned my degree, and I just plain couldn’t afford it.

Then, local therapists John Cunningham and Doug Carter decided to offer the program as a gift to the Mt. Shasta community for a pittance of $200. It was an opportunity not to be turned down; and my folks and I all decided to take it.

That my parents would be participating also made the opportunity a greater one. I saw participating in the REAL program as a chance to develop and hone a common language to use within my family unit. We’re close and we get along well most of the time, but there are fissures, of course, which I ache to see fused.

I mentioned once before how to the town of Mt. Shasta I appear to be a very happy and positive person, but that my parents, obviously are privy to a different perspective that allows them to see me sad, angry, critical and disrespectful.

It’s ironic, and I don’t think I’m alone when I say that the qualities I aspire to most are the least apparent when I interact with my family. Sensitive, kind, loving, compassionate and respectful I am not always, when I’m with the people to whom I am closest.

I think that’s in part precisely because we are close and all the details fuzzy from a distance come into clear focus when they’re near. I think it’s because we’re comfortable and all pretences are put aside. With my family I can push away from the dinner table and undo the top button of my jeans if I’ve eaten too much. The same is true for my emotional jeans.

The difference, I suppose, is that the tendencies I contain with my top button in public can hurt the people I’m close to—the very last thing I would ever want to do. Yet I unintentionally did so again tonight, in the vulnerable and tender aftermath of the REAL program.

. . . which is why I’m still a very real work in progress. Thanks for listening.