by Michael Remole | Jun 3, 2020 | Case Studies, Testimonials & Reflections
This is a letter Michael Remole, NL trainer, recently sent to his clients. We were touched. We related, and we felt more connected to our community. We hope you feel the same way. Thank you Michael for your thoughts, your kindness, and your dedication to genuine connection.
As an empath, a business owner, and a mental health professional, there are so many pieces of this COVID-19 plan that are quite difficult to fully address and properly articulate. In short, my heart is broken.
My heart breaks as I put on my mask and head out to greet your child. I try hard to smile under this mask and show the excitement with my eyes, yet it is not the same. I can feel the glances of “are you going to make my child wear a mask?” and “you believe this stuff?” and “it’s about time you meet in person again.” My heart breaks as our young clients try to make sense of why a “safe place”—a place where we promote authenticity and a metaphorical mask free zone now requires a mask to keep us safe. I cringe as I watch myself and our client fight our masks as they slide down our face, get into our eyes, and muffle our words. It’s not the same, and I battle wondering whether telehealth was better than this awkward clumsy in-person session. But I have to remind myself that connection is on a continuum and this IS connection, even if it feels awkward.
My heart breaks as I watch your child touch doorknobs and grab buckets or latches. I ask myself a million questions…did we wipe that down properly since the last client touched it? Did the client touch their face after? I pray that my clients don’t feel me holding my breath, but I know they do. My biggest fear is not me catching the virus, but what if a decision I made to open up to in-person sessions causes your family to be directly impacted by this virus. I ask myself a million times, “did I make the right decision?” We want to help people and I pray that this is somehow helping.
My heart is also very heavy for everyone given the way this virus is wreaking havoc on all areas of our lives—most importantly our mental health. I hear the hurt in your voices and I feel the fear about the current state of things, as well as the fear of the future when we talk. I know how desperately we all want answers and we want to fix this. As an empath, one of my greatest gifts is to feel what you are feeling. Right now, it is as if the volume to my empathy is blasting to a deafening volume. Daily I am faced with the question, do I shut it off, do I figure out some way to turn down the volume, or do I learn to live with the volume blaring? As I think about that, I know the pros and cons of each decision. I often find myself paralyzed by all of the various ways for me to move forward.
Over the last two months, I have shared with clients about ambiguous loss and how it impacts people. We’ve talked (I’ve even taught) on the idea that we are all grieving various losses and that each one of us has experienced loss on various levels. What I did not realize was that coming back to in-person sessions would be what made me see more of the ambiguous losses.
Lately, I’ve been working on the things I can do for myself personally that help me move toward a healthier version of myself. I returned to running during this time after one of Dr. Perry’s office hours with Dr. Brandt. She talked about rest, refuel & reflect. Something struck me that day and I have logged over 100 miles in just a few weeks. I have been running the same road every day, but varying the distances. This past Monday I decided to do one of my shortest runs and go a different route. Interestingly, it was insane how difficult it was. It felt as if I were running a marathon. My body did not have any problem with the mileage. My brain did because it was new; it wasn’t what I was used to and I did not have those normal benchmarks of how far I had run. This is similar to what’s been happening with COVID-19 for me. I’ve been on the same route (telehealth) for a while now. Even though it’s had its own challenges, it’s what I know. This week, we embarked on a new route by adding some in-person sessions. Mentally, it has thrown me for a loop.
During my runs, I’ve been listening to music and an older song from FUN came on my playlist, “put one foot in front of the other.” That has been on repeat in my head. So today, I am taking one foot and I am placing it in front of the other. I do not have the answers and I cannot fix this situation. As an agency, we will continue to strive to provide exceptional services, despite having to wear masks and concerns over germs. As an individual, I will work hard to identify those areas that are out of my control and what areas I can control. And together with my clients, we will navigate this new normal and work hard to ensure that the physical masks do not hinder what we both need—genuine connection.
by Michael Remole | Dec 10, 2018 | Applied Principles
For some, the holidays bring joy and a rich connection with family, friends, God, and memories of holidays past. For others, holidays shine a bright light on grief, loneliness, and disconnection. With the holidays approaching, I have been thinking more about connection and. . . technology. It isn’t news that technology has made real human connection much more difficult, in many ways. The older generations shake their heads and say, “back in the day. . .,” BUT I also think technology has something to teach us about human connection. I hope you enjoy my musings.
I have grown to really love my Bluetooth noise canceling headphones. I wear them when I head to the gym to work out, go for runs or walks, and even when I mow. It is so simple. Press the power button and a lovely voice comes on and says. . . “connected”. I did not realize the power of that phrase until just recently when I had forgotten I turned off the Bluetooth option on my phone.
I have a morning routine of driving to the gym, staring at the entrance of the gym (thinking that maybe I can watch someone else workout and get the benefits), and then deciding to put on my headphones, get into gear and hit the gym. However, this particular morning, as I sat in my car following my usual routine, I hit the power button for my headphones and waited. . . then I waited some more. . . I shut the headphones off thinking something was wrong with them. Then, I turned them back on and. . . waited again. I sat waiting for that lovely voice to tell me I was connected. That’s when it dawned on me that I must have done something to my phone. So, I went into the settings, hit the Bluetooth button and. . . waited some more. When it began telling me it was “searching for device” I realized that something must be wrong. Why is my connection taking so long? What is wrong with the phone? What’s wrong with the headphones? That’s when I realized that this amazing Bluetooth device was helping me understand a bit more about connection. For countless weeks, I had gone through the same procedure to ensure the phone and the headphones were connected, yet today something was different. The connection had failed and it took some work to fix it. That’s when I began to see just how much the struggle with the connection applied not only to my headphones but also to my life.
I had taken for granted the connection between my phone and headphones. It was usually easy. With the click of a button I had connection. However, on this occasion, it was not easy. In the midst of my frustration, I began to ponder just how difficult healthy, genuine relational connections really are. They take work—hard work. I have been spoiled in life by how quickly we can connect to things—WiFi, TV, cell phones and various Bluetooth devices. I began to wonder what these things are incorrectly teaching us about connection?
I was finally able to connect my phone and headphones and complete my morning workout. However, in relationships, connection is not always guaranteed. What do we do when the connection with self or someone else appears to be “offline”? How do we troubleshoot when connection with self and others doesn’t seem to be happening like we thought it should? As I wrestled with these thoughts, I began to realize that we have several options. For example, I could have blamed the headphones and thrown them away. I could have gotten mad at the phone and thrown it out the window. I could have reset both the phone and headphones so they would be able to effectively communicate with one another. What is your go-to reaction when connection does not work the way you had planned?
Healthy connections are hard. It takes two willing participants to do the troubleshooting when the connection seems off. What does that look like for us? How do we troubleshoot in these situations? As we head into the holidays, here are a few of my thoughts.
Connection with self comes first. In order to have a healthy connection with someone else, I must first have a healthy connection with myself. This means taking the time to get to know yourself and to genuinely love yourself. It also means that we have to take time to stay regulated. I think we’ve all experienced a Wifi connection that is super weak and inconsistent. This is a prime example of someone who needs to regulate in order to connect. I can give someone a superficial connection from a place of dysregulation, but if I want true, authentic connection, it must be done from a place of regulation. This is a critical part of my troubleshooting when connection seems off. What steps can I take to regulate myself so connection is more authentic and genuine?
During another trip to the gym while I was working out and enjoying my podcast, my headphone battery began to die. As the podcast continued, the headphones would say “please charge device.” It said this for several minutes before the headphones powered down. Sadly, my workout quickly ended so I could hurry to the car and recharge the headphones. Another valuable lesson about genuine connection. . . In order to have a connection you must keep your “battery of life” charged. I can try as hard as I want to connect the phone and the headphones, but if either device is low on power, the connection just won’t work. How is your “battery of life”? What are you doing to recharge your battery so you are more capable of genuine, healthy connections?
Years ago, an incredible movie called “What About Bob?” came out. In the movie, Bill Murray likens relationships to phones. Sometimes the phone is out of order and you need to try again later. Sometimes the phone is cut off and there is no chance of getting through. This approach is applicable here in regards to connection. At times, the connection may be offline due to the other person needing to do his or her own work. When this occurs, we simply note that we should take care of ourselves and try that connection again later. Then at times we come across relationships that are cut-off and it’s time to recognize that trying to connect in that relationship is not healthy.
In a society of instant gratification, we are accustomed to quick “connections”. Recently, I was talking on my cell phone and I happened to walk by my car that I had just started. As I approached the car, my phone connected to the car while I was standing outside the car trying to continue the conversation. I had not asked for that connection, it just happened. On other days, no matter what I try, the phone and car will not connect! I am sure that you can relate and get frustrated as well when one device won’t connect with another. In those moments of frustration, let’s pause, take a deep breath, and reflect on what we are doing to better connect with ourselves and with others. Let’s take those moments of reflection to help us become more capable of having healthy, genuine connections with self and others. If we fail to do this, we will hear “searching for device”. My hope is that this holiday season we will hear a lovely voice saying “connected” as we truly connect in the relationships that matter the most.
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