Category Archives: Mind Management

I cried all the way through Sunday service last week.

It was graduation Sunday and the whole service was centered around honoring our graduates. There were songs and announcements and a sermon and all the normal parts of the service, but there was a segment set aside to recognize each graduate. The parents of each graduate had written them a letter with remembrances, advice for the future, and encouragement as they go forth into the next phase of their lives. We do this every year, but this was the first time we did it over a virtual meeting and not in person.

It’s always touching to watch the graduates stand up on stage, smiling with a mix of embarrassment and pride as they hear the letters their parents have written. But as the photos of the grads showed up on the screen, I started thinking about the proms missed, and the graduation ceremonies not held, about my cousin in Virginia who didn’t get to finish playing his spring season of baseball as a senior. I wondered what it must be like for them to be unsure of their fall plans because of the pandemic, instead of excitedly planning for their fall semester in college. I looked around at my babies and wondered, what will graduation be like when they finish high school? Will they get to celebrate with friends and finish their plans and goals? My sense of loss for these kids was profound and deep. It felt like the normal that so often is unappreciated was just not available now, and I mourned for each of them. The tears started coming, very quietly.

As the service continued, the sermon was given by a young man in our congregation. Honestly, I don’t remember everything he talked about. But he spent some of his time talking about his life before finding God, and how he was like the prodigal son living for pleasure. He shared how that life produced a deep anguish in him, to the point where he became suicidal. His story made me understand a little more how deeply our kids are affected by the world in which we live, even when they seem happy and well. I looked at my children’s faces and wondered, what hurts are happening in those hearts and minds that I don’t know about? I thought about the families who lost their loved ones to gun violence and police brutality lately, how they were without them this Sunday morning as I sat with my family. The tears came faster.

As we continued in the last song of the service, the beauty of the music and singing was overwhelming. Instead of singing as I usually do, I sat and listened, allowing the tears to fall. I let the feelings of sadness and overwhelm and mourning and hope in God wash over me. My family watched me with concern, and the kids came over one by one to pat my shoulder or rub my back. When service was over, my husband asked me if I wanted to share what I was feeling. So I did.

You know, I spend a lot of my energy trying to be happy. I work on the thoughts that I create that cause my discomfort and upset to be sure that I’m thinking deliberately. I believe there is incredible value in being the manager of my mind instead of allowing it to manage me. But a human life is not designed to be one of pure happiness. Trying to live a life where the goal is to be happy is destined to be a life full of disappointments and frustration. The full range of the human experience includes sadness, disappointment, grief, fear, and pain. There are so many emotions that we have available to us, and I want to be able to feel them. You might think that you’d rather have a life without sadness or pain or grief. But truly, if someone dies, do you want to be happy about it? I’m pretty sure you’d want to be able to mourn their passing, to celebrate their life. If they suffered, you may want to feel relief at the end of their pain. We have all the emotions available to us so that we can live the full range of human life. On that Sunday, I needed to be sad, to feel the loss, to allow the pain of the pandemic and its effects to pass through me. I needed to mourn the loss of the lives of Ahmaud Arbery and Brianna Taylor and George Floyd.  I celebrate the graduates and their accomplishments! But I recognize some of the losses that we have experienced during this time and I grieve too.

So, if you aren’t feeling fully able to celebrate and enjoy life right now, that’s ok. Sometimes sadness is the emotion you choose. You don’t have to stay there, and you can choose thoughts that focus on all the blessings and love and joy and goodness in your wonderful, inspiring, joyful gift of life as a human being on this planet. But if you have other feelings, you can feel those too and know that all emotions are part of your human experience. I know my thoughts on that Sunday caused my feelings, and that I can choose other thoughts to produce different emotions. I don’t choose to produce unnecessary suffering in my life by continuing to choose thoughts that don’t serve me. But it’s ok to feel the feelings, to choose the thoughts, to live this life fully. It’s a piece of the wholeness we are searching for!

Have you been feeling sadness more than usual lately? How are you navigating the celebration and loss during this time? Please share in the comments below!

And, if you’re feeling more than sadness, if you need help, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or chat at https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

And, if you haven’t gotten over to see me on YouTube yet, come see my most recent series on Weight Loss Basics! I can help you lose instead of gain during all this time at home…

Oooh, chile! It’s been a tiring week on the emotional front!

It seems like a lot of things happened in the past 7 days that have challenged my attitude. First, the governor decided to open the state of Georgia for nonessential businesses. Let me tell you why that was hard for me. First, as a physician, I recognize that in this state we are in the midst of the COVID-19 case surge. It doesn’t make sense to me to encourage people to get out and mingle when we know that we haven’t yet passed the most crucial part of the pandemic, and that we risk provoking a second surge by encouraging people to go out to cosmetic appointments and entertainment activities like bowling and movie watching. I understand the economic pressures on the state, but I cringe at the thought of a second wave of COVID-19 and the deaths that will come if this happens.

Second, I spent Friday as the only doctor in the office and had several interactions with patients who demanded things that I either disagreed with or couldn’t do. As we start to bring people into the office who’ve been delayed because of the pandemic, more pressure is getting put onto the schedules. And while there have always been patients who’ve asked for things I don’t think they need, it was easier to spend time explaining and practice patience when the schedules were light. On Friday it felt like every patient I had was upset about something, and I needed to give extra TLC to help them feel taken care of as they went back home. Add to that that being the only doctor meant I was getting phone calls from advice nurses and was being asked to sign forms between patients by the nurses in the office, and by the end of the day I felt like I’d run in circles all day.

I was so grateful to be headed home! I was ready to take full advantage a weekend when I wasn’t working, so I came home ready to enjoy the family. I figured we’d eat dinner, have a fire in our fire pit out back, toast marshmallows and just be together. Unbeknownst to me, my husband also had a day full of challenges at work. When I walked in and saw his face, I knew something was off.  After I completed my decontamination process, complete with wiping my steering wheel and anything I touched after I left the office, washing any clothing I wore to the office, and a shower and nasal cleaning, I came back down to start the weekend. But it was a no-go. He wasn’t up for the fire pit, my son was on restriction for an infraction earlier in the day, the girls were sad, and the night was a wash. I didn’t find out until after the kids were in bed all of what had gone down during the day for him, and by then I was disappointed and ready to hang it up anyway.

It took some time and talking, but we worked through the disconnect the next day.  But you know when I really figured out what was happening? In the midst of our virtual worship service on Sunday.

It may sound strange, but the pandemic itself hasn’t changed a lot for us at home. We already homeschooled, he has worked from home a lot before, and I’m still working as much as before (with the exception of elective surgery – that’s still on hold). So while things outside the house are kinda crazy, home feels pretty normal. We’ve cut out the travel to church and activities, and the kids don’t get to meet with their homeschool group on Mondays, but they are doing that virtually and we have navigated around each other pretty well. He and I tend to have the same scuffles around home life as usual, but nothing more than that as we’ve been confined. And maybe the truth is that with us both working, we’re not really “stuck at home” together, so that’s why we aren’t in more conflict. So this disagreement gave me a little idea of what other people may be feeling during this quarantine. And that little understanding became much bigger on Sunday.

The theme of the sermon this week was Love, and using this time of social distancing to love people more, to grow in our capacity for love and compassion to others. I started thinking back over the week. While I’m concerned about a second COVID surge, what about those small business owners who have no income during the stay-at-home order? What about the family who runs our local coffee shop – how are they surviving? What about my hairdresser I see once a year for a trim – how is she making it with no customers, and how are her daughter and husband doing?

Together…

One of the women in our family group shared about how the son of one of the patients that they transport to dialysis wanted to show up to see his mom as she was transferred, because he couldn’t visit her in the facility where she lived because of COVID.  And even though it caused a delay for them, the transporters allowed him to have a conversation (with a mask and social distancing) so he could spend a little time with his mom. The night before, another friend from church called me to ask for my advice on treatments recommended for his mom as she was being treated in a local ICU with COVID. And I could hear how hard it was for him to not be able to go visit her as we talked over the phone.

And then the comment that opened up my eyes to what was happening in all these challenges was a simple reminder from a friend. He shared how the message reminded him that love is an action word, not just a feeling, so he was encouraged to act and serve to show his love. That was the common thread. In every situation, whether the decisions the government makes or the interactions at work or home, each were an opportunity to practice my love. They were each a chance for me to act in a way that made my love bigger, stronger and more powerful. When I get yet another call from a nurse who is calling me because she can’t reach the doctor assigned to calls that day, I can choose to be patient and gracious and help as best I can. When a patient is irritable and mistrusting, I can take a moment to recognize that she may be afraid, and leaving her house in this pandemic may be very scary and stressful for her. I can take a few more moments to reassure and comfort, because that’s love.

When I question the decisions of our political leaders, I can remember that I don’t have the wisdom or perspective to know all the factors that go into those decisions. I can remember those who may benefit from the decision and have compassion on their situation. And while I might not go to those businesses right now, I can choose to support them anyway because I care about the people behind them.

When I bump heads with my husband, I can see this as the greatest opportunity of all to love. After all, aren’t the deepest hurts we feel with those we love? This is when I get to dig deep, reach for my compassion and understanding, and choose to be kind and gentle even if I’m feeling disappointed. Besides, the action that I feel hurt about is almost never intentional. When I stay in my own point of view, I miss the chance to grow and expand. When I reach, when I look for other ways to see the circumstances and see them from his perspective, I gain a bigger heart, more compassion, and I can love even more.

Many of us grew up watching romantic movies and reading stories and learned that love is a feeling that comes when all the stars align, or everything falls into place, or it’s just meant to be. But love is so much more than a feeling. It’s a practice! It takes energy, effort, awareness, and intention. The good news is that life gives us plenty of opportunity to grow in love. Thank God for the practice!

Have you found ways that life is challenging you to grow in love? How have you seen the call to love bigger in your life? Please share in the comments below!

I was on the phone the other day with my husband, talking about some upcoming plans. As we compared our thoughts about the plans, we realized that we had very different perspectives on them. This is usually the case. As a rule, my husband and I see things from completely different points of view. I don’t know if it’s the male-female thing, or differences in upbringing. But I’ve come to expect it!

This time though, when I gave my take on the plan and acknowledged that I probably was a little different in my thinking, he said something that made me stop in my tracks. He called me “weird”. It wasn’t in a negative way, more an offhanded comment, noting that I often have a unique way of thinking and doing things, at least from his perspective. But it made me think:

Am I weird?

When I was a kid, being called weird was an insult. No one wanted to be the weird kid – being different and unique wasn’t a compliment! It’s funny though, after decades of being an adult and learning to be myself and embrace the exclusively individual parts of myself, being called weird still sounded a little negative. It’s strange, because when I go to cities like Austin, TX or Asheville, NC that take great pride in being weird, I love being there. It’s the different parts that make those places interesting and fun!

Being called weird made me start asking the question: If I’m weird, then what makes me that way? It didn’t take two seconds before my brain started offering me answers. I eat in a way that lots of people find strange, with no animal products and mostly whole and unprocessed foods. I like to cook, where many people do not. I wear my hair natural without chemicals. Even though I have plenty to do raising four kids, running a household, and working as a physician, I still write this blog every week and make videos for my YouTube channel (check me out at Dr Andrea Christian Parks). With the support of my husband and a teacher, I’ve been homeschooling my kids for eight years, even though sending them to public school would be easier and cheaper. I enjoy doing surgery – many people don’t want to see inside live people’s bodies. I am committed to growing my relationship with God on a personal and daily basis and have been for more than two decades. These things, among others, are things that certainly could be considered weird.

But so what? What if I am weird? Being weird now isn’t the insult that it was in fifth grade. One thing I started realizing during my coaching work this week is that the people that I learned the most from and admired in my formative years were “weird” people. They were unique and different and stayed that way even when they were criticized for it. I was attracted to the power and character in people who could be who they were even when others didn’t see their value. I wanted to be like them!

I had a friend named Thea from elementary through high school who was always very different. She wore homemade clothes when that was absolutely not cool. She had Doc Maarten boots before they were a thing. I’ll never forget the skirt she wore made of her dad’s old neckties. She liked the skirt and couldn’t care less if anyone else did. And that was the point: She liked herself and her style, so if others didn’t, then they were entitled to their opinions. It wasn’t important enough to change how she showed up. She was fun, interesting, loyal, smart and talented. I’m glad I had the opportunity to be her friend!

Different and cool…

When I look back over my life, people like Thea were the ones I wanted as friends, women who were clear about who they were, what they believed, and were comfortable in themselves. They were able to be good friends and accept other people because they had already figured out who they were. They didn’t need friends who were the same to confirm them, because they’d already done that work. They would be themselves and let you be you – they saw the value that you brought to the friendship. I’ve had so many friends like this over the years, and the best thing about having that kind of friend was this: I got to become me. I didn’t need to pretend to be other than me to please my friends, and that allowed me to figure out who I wanted to be. Now before I make this sound too idyllic, I certainly have things that I’m undoing in my self and my character. Plenty of things. But if at one time I thought being weird was a negative thing, I don’t know that I ever really believed it, because look at who I chose as friends! And if I love “weird” people and I’m weird, then maybe it’s not a bad thing at all. Maybe my being weird is the gift I get to give to the world.

I love gifts – never know what’s inside, but it’s fun to find out!

And you? Maybe you like to do things with your kids that seem a little strange to others. It might be that you have a love for knitting that no one knows about. You might be growing your own food and canning it at the end of the growing season (come teach me!). You may love cutting your own grass and planting flowers in your yard. Whatever it is that makes your heart sing, that thing that makes you different, that’s the thing that you have to give to the world. It’s the thing that other people get to admire about you, so don’t hide it. It may be “weird”, but it’s authentically you and worth celebrating. So be your unique, different, weird self – you’re what makes life wonderful. Go be a gift!

What is it about you that’s weird? I want to know you better, so please share in the comments below!

This past weekend was my grandmother’s memorial service. She was almost 98 years old when she died a few weeks ago.

Grandma was a wonderful woman and we all were sad to see her go, but 98 years? That’s a long life. So when we gathered in Florida for the service and scattering of her ashes, it was a time of mourning, but was also a time to remember all the good times we had with her and together over the course of her life. Really, it was a family reunion.

Growing up, there were a period of years when my grandmother’s three daughters and all of us cousins lived in the same town in Massachusetts within a few blocks of each other. Each daughter had two of us, and there were also two step cousins who were around a lot, so we rolled deep! Grandma and Grandpa also moved to Brookline for a few years, so we all spent time at each other houses.  The cousins went to school together, hung out watching movies or playing games together, and had all the big holiday meals together. We spent lots of time this weekend laughing over memories of the times we had together and how grandma was the center of so many of those times. It ended up being a great time reconnecting, talking and bonding!

Me and my cousins…

I wasn’t sure it was going to be that way though. We all went to college in different states, and the last 20 years or so we’ve all been busy getting jobs and traveling and building families, so we haven’t been as close. I also remember one cousin making a comment one time I’ll never forget. This cousin remarked that I was such an overachiever that I wasn’t like the rest of them. It was said in fun, but I took it to heart. I had enough examples of me as an exception that I took this comment to be further confirmation that I wasn’t as much a part of the crew as everyone else.

When you add years of medical school and residency with no breaks, years went by where I didn’t travel back home or see my cousins. In some ways, medical training is like being in the military: The time away and sacrifices that are made directly impact the relationships with your family. At the time I didn’t think about it – I just put my head down and tried to survive the overwhelming amount of work and sleep deprivation. But when I’d see that I’d missed another weekend on Martha’s Vineyard, or a cousin got married and I couldn’t go, I felt further and further away. So when I got the call to attend the memorial service, I wondered if it would be awkward to be there with everyone. Was I going to be the odd one out again?

It’s never a fun thing to gather when a loved one dies. Getting family together can also bring out lots of historical dysfunction, so I get it when people dread family reunions. Old triggers and rivalries and hard feelings mixed with emotion over the loss can be a minefield. Add a little (or a lot!) of alcohol, and things can get hectic quick. But here’s what I figured out before I went: I am in charge of how I think about these relationships. When a little squabble broke out about who was speaking at the service, I stepped back to see each point of view. When I got around the group of cousins sitting around, talking and laughing and there were no more seats, I had a choice to make. Was I going to feel excluded, or was I going to pull up another chair and sit down with the group? Was I going to decide that there was no room for me, and I had been away too long to be close, or would I decide that I was always part of this cousin group?

Here’s the thing: It only takes one person to create the relationship. Stay with me, because I know that sounds crazy. If I had decided that I wasn’t close to my cousins and that we didn’t have much of a relationship any longer, then I would have pulled back further and acted in a way that was distant, further confirming my lack of closeness with my cousins. And truth here, they wouldn’t have known what was in my head. They can’t feel my feelings. But I can choose to cultivate the love and closeness I want in my own heart by thinking of them in ways that keep me feeling close. The key is in the thoughts I choose to think, and I am in control of that process. I chose to think of each of them with love. Once I got out of my own head and insecurities, I realized how the spouses of the cousins might have felt less included as well – I mean, they didn’t have the childhood memories with us at all!

The most fun moment of the weekend was when we gathered the night of the memorial service for dinner and family time. The little cousins decided to put on a “Cousins Got Talent” show, complete with team of hosts, technical director, and producer (y’all, we’ve got a lot of kids!). The kids did a great job and we took pictures and videos and celebrated the kids. Then my Aunt Barbara stepped in and challenged the OG cousins (us!) to do a performance for the family the way we did when we were kids at the holiday gatherings. After some grumbling, we got together in a room to come up with a plan. I figured out my suspicions were right when we had to drag a couple of spouses into the plan! We all got out there and lip synced and rapped different parts to Poison by Bell, Biv, Devoe (remember that one?!). It was hysterical! We’re still laughing over the video of us dancing around like a bunch of grown fools for our kids and parents.

The best moment for me was when the cousins were gathered privately to receive a gift from our grandmother. After it was over, we were being summoned to watch the talent show when someone called out, “Cousin group hug!”. The feeling of closeness and connection in that circle of six is something I will remember. If I hadn’t already decided to be close, I probably would have been the first to wiggle away in discomfort. Instead, because I’d already decided to be close, I thanked them all for our closeness, even though I’d missed so many years with them. They looked at me a little strangely, like “Well, of course!”. It may be the years apart didn’t bother them and I created the distance in my mind. For sure, I was able to create the closeness I wanted in my mind. Whatever everyone else thought and felt isn’t for me to know. But I feel close to them!

Have you ever realized that you created a whole situation because of how you thought about it? Have you ever changed how you thought about something and changed how you experienced it? Please share in the comments below!

I think I’m going through a phase…

About a year ago, I told my husband that I wanted to put a layer of red in my hair. Not anything permanent, mind you, but the trend toward fun colors in hair was back and I wanted to color the bottom half of my hair. I thought it would be fun, and maybe a little edgy. His comment? Actually, I thought it was rude, but funny. He said that he figured I’d never had a “rachet” phase in my life, so it was okay if I did it now. I punched him in the arm.

After I went to my hair stylist and figured out that what I really wanted would require stripping my hair, I started looking for alternative options. Of course, social media obliged and I found a washable colored hair wax. I bought red, blue, purple, white, and gold.

Yep, it’s blue. Actually, this one isn’t my favorite – I like the red and the gold reminds me of the blond highlights I had when I was in college. The colors have been fun and funky, but still not something I’d make permanent. If you’ve been reading this blog for awhile, you’ve also probably seen my intention tattoos that I wear on my arms. Now, I don’t have any issue with real tattoos, but I don’t want permanent ink in my skin, just like I don’t want permanent color in my hair. Part of the issue is that I don’t want the exposure to the chemicals (there’s emerging info about hair chemical and a link to breast cancer), but also I just don’t have anything that I’d want to permanently etch into my skin. But temporary reminders based on how I want to think or be? That’s something I can use!

Last week I was preparing to go to my grandmother’s memorial service, making lists and packing. During a break, I was fooling around on a temporary tattoo website and I found one that made me think of my grandmother. She was a ballet dancer, and her spirit just left this world a few weeks ago. The image of a dancer inside the wings of a bird spoke to me, so I ordered it. I figured I’d wear it for the memorial service in her honor. She was 97 years old when she died.

When the tattoo arrived in the mail I was so excited! I’d used this brand before, but the application process was completely different. So I looked up the instruction video, followed the instructions, and applied the tattoo to my arm. It works kind of like henna, where you put the ink on your skin and the color develops fully in the next 24-36 hours. The directions said to avoid any excessive movement of sweating during the application, so I sat down to watch a documentary with the kids and wait quietly as instructed for 1 hour for the tattoo to develop.

Then my husband called.

I jumped up and left the room – I think it’s rude to talk on the phone while others are trying to listen to a show, so I wen into the kitchen to take the call. I saw the roses I bought earlier in day waiting to be cut and arranged, so while I was talking to him, I started on the flowers. In the middle of the call, I realized that I felt hot under the tattoo plastic wrap. I stopped what I was doing and sat back down to cool off, but it was too late – the tattoo ink was spreading under the wrap. I took it off and went to be hoping it wasn’t as bad as I thought, but in the morning the ink had developed into a blurry, fuzzy, indistinct dark mess.

Arrggghhh!

I was furious. It was completely my fault for not following instructions, but now I had this mess on my arm for the next 2 weeks, which wouldn’t generally be as big of an issue (just wear long sleeves), but I was going to the memorial service in Florida. To 80 degree weather. And, a little tattoo reminder of my grandmother is one thing – but this mess? I felt like a freak, getting ready to go to work to see patients with blue hair and a tattoo colored smear on my arm.

At first, I was just angry. I emailed the company to ask for suggestions for how to get it to fade more quickly. Then I tried to exfoliate my arm skin, which only made my arm itchy and red around the dark tattoo smudge. So I got a huge bandaid and covered as much as I could so it wouldn’t be seen when I pushed up my sleeves to examine patients through the day.

Then I tried to make the best of it. I showed the kids the messy tattoo and reminded them of the importance of following directions. I figured I was a good object lesson! Really though, I was still upset. Why didn’t I just sit there and be cool until the time was up? Then I started thinking the patients would see me in some sort of judgemental way, so I started feeling defensive. I had been going for cool and edgy, not full out crazy! The day ahead started to look negative and ugly, but I had to go anyway. So I went.

You know what saved me from spiraling totally out of control? I started thinking differently about it. I wish I could say it was a completely smooth, no issue kind of day, but it wasn’t. I reminded myself that I was washing the blue color out soon. Eventually, the mark on my arm would fade, and maybe the company would email me back with some suggestions for how to speed that process up. Even if I looked a little funky, I was still the same powerful, knowledgeable, excellent physician and my patients would be cared for in the best way – even with blue hair and the tattoo mistake. I got dressed in an outfit that complimented the blue shade in my hair and went to work.

I had a couple of moments through the day where I didn’t handle the normal crazy of the office with as much grace as I’d have liked. But they were rare, and certainly nowhere near what they could have been or would have been before I started actively managing my thoughts. I’m so grateful I’m learning how to manage my thinking, because I know the kind of day I would have created for myself when I let my brain control me. I didn’t get any magical suggestions from the tattoo company, but the bandaid worked well. Interestingly, several of my patients commented how much they liked the blue hair, and my nurses and colleagues also thought it was fun. It all worked out in the end.

For grandma…

Have you ever created a disaster of a day by the way you started the day? How’d you turn it around? Please share in the comments below!