Fear

In an early chapter of A Walk in the Woods, as Bill Bryson prepares to walk the Appalachian Trail he reads up on, and obsesses about, bear attacks. After some horrifying stories of people mauled or killed by bears in the American wilderness, he concedes that the likelihood of being attacked by a bear while hiking or camping in the woods is small. But that's not the point:

"Black bears rarely attack. But here's the thing. Sometimes they do."

Bear! Don't run. But don't climb a tree. Play dead.  

Or don't play dead. Most importantly: Don't panic!

Daniele Colombo/Flickr CC

We all know that humans are terrible at calculating risk. We blithely drive in cars which kill us by the thousands, and fear getting in a plane which is statistically the safest mode of transport.

But this point has always bothered me. Sure, traffic accidents happen every day, and so do heart attacks, cancer diagnoses and people dying of old age. But you can't live your life fearing death every time you wake up or walk (or drive) down the street. So our brains quite sensibly put these fears into abeyance day to day, just as they do our general fear of old age, death, and our place in the cosmos.

On the other hand, you don't step onto a plane every day, so it's much more natural to feel nervous when you do. When we all start driving flying cars every day, we will, I am sure, lose our fear of flying.

I also think it's quite logical to fear things that, while unlikely or rare, nevertheless have horrifying consequences if they happen. For instance, car crashes happen every day and plane crashes rarely, but (I know this logic is flawed) you can walk away from a minor car accident. There aren't too many minor plane crashes.

It's fun to scoff at people fearing unlikely things. Like helicopter parents fussing over the safety of their precious children. Parents these days worry too much, and have ludicrously over-inflated ideas of the dangers kids face outside. They stifle their kids' freedom! Kids are missing out on vital outdoor neighborhood roaming! When we were young, we had the run of the neighborhood! Child abduction hasn't increased! Children are missing out on fun, and failing to learn independence and character!

But...

When I was a kid thirty years ago we had 'stranger danger' lessons at school, and our parents were worried enough about child abduction. My sister and I rode bikes around the local streets and walked to and from school, but we weren't allowed free reign over the neighborhood.

But the thing is, back then we knew a lot less. My parents say now that if they had known what we know now about the dangers children face, we wouldn't have been allowed to do even the things we did back then.

We didn't understand the nature of child abuse. For instance, that 'stranger danger' is less of an actual danger to kids than adults they already know. Kids were routinely entrusted to the care of other adults in a way they are not any more.

We didn't understand the nature of sexual assault. I remember in the early eighties, when kids I knew were 'flashed' on their way home from school, the police telling their parents they take it seriously these days, because they now knew that flashing was a precursor crime to sexual assault. I remember we were all surprised, having always been taught to ignore and shrug off these occasional incidents.

We didn't hear as many bad stories. The news cycle was quieter, fewer assaults were reported, perhaps fewer accidents and incidents made the news, back when pictures and video from all around the world were not as easily available. So we weren't all bombarded with horror every day and were a little more naive as well.

Also, just because generations past monitored their children less, doesn't mean danger didn't exist. My grandfather recalled "a Huckleberry Finn childhood" playing in rivers and bushland and coming home at sunset. But my mother's cousin drowned when he was eight playing in a rowboat alone at the beach.


My kids are nine and want to walk home from school. They know the way, we've walked together a few times, and I am happy for them to walk home alone, some days. That doesn't mean I won't be biting my nails waiting for them to knock on the door. And I probably won't let them do it regularly, so as not to set up a routine some waiting evil-doer could notice and take advantage of. (I know: infallible logic).

I don't think you can blame parents for being hyper-vigilant over child safety these days. And I am pretty confident kids are getting enough of what they need.


As Bill Bryson puts it:

"If [bears] want to kill you and eat you, they can.... That doesn't happen often, but - and here is the absolutely salient point - once would be enough."

Bears are super scary:

Valerie/Flickr CC

How do you deal with fear?

The Antidote

I've just started reading The Antidote by Oliver Burkeman. Mr Burkeman writes a column for The Guardian called This Column Will Change Your Life, which is one of my favourite reads.

In one of those columns he recently said: "Happiness is reality minus expectations."

There's been a bit of resistance to the "pursuit of happiness"/positive thinking paradigms in recent years, with books such as The Happiness Trap reminding us that trying to be happy seldom makes us happy and studies demonstrating the value of pessimism.  Work-related articles on the internet are finally starting to look beyond the whole "follow your bliss" theme we've been fed for some time. The only self-help book that I like, Maurice Seligman's Learned Optimism, espouses realistic strategies using cognitive behavioural therapy to combat depression and anxiety, and rejects the more common positive affirmations and mantras that tend to irk people like me.

I'm less than halfway through The Antidote, but I like it a lot.


Here are some excerpts that grabbed me:

That we yearn for neat, book-sized solutions to the problem of being human is understandable, but strip away the packaging, and you'll find that the messages of such works are frequently banal.

There are good reasons to believe that the whole notion of 'seeking happiness' is flawed to begin with. For one thing, who says happiness is a valid goal in the first place? Religions have never placed much explicit emphasis on it, at least as far as this world is concerned,; philosophers have certainly not been unanimous in endorsing it, either. And any evolutionary psychologist will tell you that evolution has little interest in you being happy.

This last reminded me of what a psychologist told me, when I told her about the anxiety I felt every day when my children were little, terrified something bad would happen to them; how I couldn't watch them play in the park without visualizing them falling off things. I was not terrified all the time, and I didn't stop them doing normal things, but I would have these constant intrusive visualizations and then feel annoyed with myself, or anxious. While I expected her to counsel me on how not to worry, she told me instead that my worrying was what was keeping my children safe. "Your brain is not interested in keeping you relaxed or making you happy," she said. Once I accepted that this worrying was there to stay, I was able to accept it.


On positive thinking:

...once you have resolved to embrace the ideology of positive thinking, you will find a way to interpret virtually any eventuality as a justification for thinking positively. You need never spend any time considering how your actions might go wrong.

And when bad things happen ("and such things will happen"):

Trying to see things in an exclusively positive light is an attitude that requires constant, effortful replenishment. Should your efforts falter, or prove insufficient...you'll sink back down into - possibly deeper - gloom.  

On 'positive visualization' as a way to achieve goals (a la The Secret):

...focusing on the outcome you desire may actually sabotage your efforts to achieve it.

...as the brain "subconsciously [confuses] visualising success with having already achieved it."


On outcomes:

[W]e habitually act as if our control over the world were much greater than it really is. Even such personal matters as our health, our finances, and our reputations are ultimately beyond our control

I think when it comes down to it, almost every philosophy we espouse is a way of convincing ourselves we can control what happens to us. We can do some things of course, and there's no benefit in being totally pessimistic and defeatist - but so, so much of what happens to us is down to luck.

That's no justification for inaction, just a way of looking at things and not shrinking from the bad:

'The cucumber is bitter? Put it down,' Marcus [Aurelius] advises. 'There are brambles in the path? Step to one side. That is enough, without also asking: "How did these things come into the world at all?"'

Of course, these philosophies are all easy from our part of the world, and when we're talking about the usual gamut of everyday trials and losses.   There are few among us who cannot ask "WHY?" when bad things happen. But I'm not a person who can totally embrace "positive thinking" and the type of philosophy this book promotes is indeed, for me, a good antidote.

What do you think?

Sadness

Today's post is a bit of a downer, and I'm sorry about that. I'll probably regret posting it. But I just cannot shake the sadness right now.

I have two beautiful, funny, loving, interesting daughters. One of them is pretty and funny and clever but is going through her own battles with anxiety and self-loathing (which naturally I feel guilty about - I don't think I model these [really!] but she did get my crappy DNA). The other is happy and resilient and popular and is also tall and thin and lovely; this makes her shorter sister jealous and her father go on and on to me about how gorgeous she's going to be, both of which things irk me no end. But at the same time sometimes all I feel too is an overwhelming anger at the world's treatment of young girls and their egos, and I worry how I can protect her and how she can preserve her happy confident self in a world so threatening and unsafe.

I know, glass half full, right?

I'm not normally like this, I'm really not. I know I can't keep my children safe from all harm, and I also know they are not likely to meet it. I know parents project their own worries, regrets and failures onto their children. I know kids are their own special people and have strengths and abilities we underestimate, and that kids are not just the sum of their parents.

But the past week has contained this:

• Syria
• Our corner milkbar was robbed in daylight and the lovely woman who runs it with her husband was attacked and stabbed - she is unable to work and will need multiple operations and plastic surgery to recover. She had to run into the street, bleeding and crying, and flag down a car for help. Her attacker was caught, but she and her family are traumatised. Her husband is manning the milkbar alone, and their lives are changed. These are good, lovely, excellent people. I cannot get over the fact this has happened.
• Vandals spraypainted all over the school. I know it was just high school kids who used to go there and it's no big deal, but it's still an ugly thing.
• My daughter A had a big old meltdown at school and required an intervention from two teachers and the visiting psychologist to help her. They did help her, and she's OK, and all is OK, but still.
• Another horrible, horrible gang rape in India. While it's been only 4 months since the gang rape of a 5-year-old there, and the countless other rapes happening every day
• Miley Cyrus getting attacked all over the internet with the usual vicious ferocity that rains down on any twenty-year old trying to shake off a cutesy childhood past and try on the sexy.

 I heard Colleen McCulloch on radio once talking about her life, when her autobiography was published, and she talked about the different feelings she had when her son and her daughter were born. With a son, she said, you felt his life and future were so full of promise, that he could do anything and be anything. With a daughter though, you feel a bit like, well, here's someone else who's going to go through all the same shit.

It keeps seeming like things are getting better, and then it seems obvious they are not. These are times when seeing any gorgeous, happy young girl makes me anxious, protective and angry. I know that's not right or helpful, but it does. When I see grown men salivating over girls in their teens, or children playing games where the girls self-censor or are censored by their playmates for being tough, strong or heroic; when I see my girls, and all girls, in all their beauty and promise about to step up into a huge, exciting, wonderful and dangerous world, I am overcome.


How do you shake off sadness?

Confession

Two things caught my eye in blog posts this week:

This post on Freakonomics about a study on the effects on a marriage and a woman's work inside and outside the house when the wife can earn more than the husband (short answer: bad);

and this post on Blue Milk about a confessional essay by a feminist man examining his own hypocrisy. In referencing this essay Blue Milk posted:

"[O]ur personal relationships are usually where our most brutal hypocrisies present themselves. I wish we talked more about that part of our lives."

I am glad to hear that this is not just me.

So okay, I'll start:

• I resent the fact that I do more at home than my husband does, but I also sometimes do a bit more to help him feel more masculine and me feel more "wifely"

• It is very important to me that I, the children's mother, be their primary carer - even though it makes more sense economically for their father to do it

• I am sometimes resentful - against all fairness, logic or even what I actually want - that I didn't marry someone with a career which would allow me to be a stay-at-home mother

• when I read blog posts by feminists I admire I often wonder about their partners, how they make their partnerships work and how many of these feelings and compromises they deal with and what if any non-feminist measures they take to "improve" their relationships

I am sure most of us have these feelings. And I am sure the important thing is how you act on them and how you talk yourself down, not the fact that you have them.

What about you?

Work and Walk: NAILED IT

If you're like me and work in an office environment, in the city, work clothes can be a hassle. Unless you're very senior or in a very staid industry, you probably don't have to manage pantyhose (shudder), high heels, suits or full make-up, but you still need to look a bit corporate and moderately well groomed.

At the same time you probably catch public transport, which means walking a little, which means you also need to be comfortable.

In my head I have a hazy sort of ideal outfit that I call "Good To Go". The Good To Go outfit is dark trousers, a mid-season top, cross-body satchel bag and low-heeled boots or shoes. Possibly an artfully-knotted scarf or non-bulky jacket on top. It's something you can wear almost anywhere, and it is comfortable and hassle-free.  It's the kind of outfit worn by girls-on-the-run in spy movies, or hot lady cops in the better TV mini-series.  It doesn't have to be plain - it can be a sparkly top, or satiny pants - but the main requirements of Good To Go are that the outfit is streamlined, simple, stylish and walkable.

Unfortunately, though this outfit is my daily goal, I rarely come close to achieving it, due to limitations imposed by money (style is expensive) and body shape. Most days I settle for a pair of nice-looking black pants that are not too short (hard - very hard to find), a longish top and a soft jacket or cardigan. Oh, and the artfully knotted scarf.

I have three good quality bags, one of which is a cross-body satchel (though too small for everyday work use really), and the other two which are great-looking and were expensive but are not ideal designs for carrying. One is a good shape but too heavy, the other can only be looped over a wrist or carried by the handles, which gets annoying.

Shoes are tricky. In my youth I never found shoes hard. I wore what I liked and I walked everywhere. In the 80s I was a student and wore Doc Martens, brogues or flats. In the nineties I was living in Greece where appearance is everything, baby - this was my stylish phase, and I wore high-heeled ankle boots or very high platform heels, along with short skirts, slim dresses, leggings, fitted jackets and other gorgeous stuff I can no longer go near.

I never remember shoes being too uncomfortable back then. Heels were a bit, of course - but certainly not everyday flat shoes.

These days? It's IMPOSSIBLE for me to find a comfortable shoe. I think once you're past 40 no shoe is going to be totally comfortable, unless it's a runner. I'm also quite a bit heavier than I was in my youth, and I know that has an impact. But more than that, with age comes wisdom or perhaps grumpiness, and I have close to zero tolerance for sartorial discomfort as a result.

Since my accident and surgery I've been wearing casual pants and runners pretty much non-stop - that's almost 4 months - and that's been very comfortable, but I'm pretty sick of them.

This week I returned to the office for the first time in weeks, having worked mostly at home since we came back from Greece. Since I can't drive, I have had to abandon the car commute I was so fond of and return to public transport. Which I am quite enjoying, to be honest, though not loving the hour and a half the trip takes me most days.

But I am finding it seriously challenging to put work outfits together, which are also comfortable for my "walking bouts" in between buses and trains and the office.


Here's the thing:

• I'm sick of wearing runners to work and carrying an extra bag for my work shoes.
• I want to wear nice shoes which are also comfortable, and I don't want to break a sweat on my morning commute.
• I want to carry ONE bag. And I don't always want that to be a giant tote or a backpack.

Another thing - and I blame my kids for this because it didn't happen before them - is that I find it very difficult to leave and arrive home carrying ONE bag. Even if I leave with one bag (e.g. having left my work shoes at the office so no need to tote them), I arrive home with two or three, by the time I've picked up emergency groceries, a schnitzel and veggies from a cafe to serve for dinner, or some, um, magazines and books (but I've cut that out now, really).

(The last 2 days I've had to stop at the quickie-mart on the way home, to pick up margarine, hair clips, lunch box snacks and the like which my organised self neglected to order from the supermarket).


Soooo.... you appreciate how difficult and unwieldy my life is, I hope.


Except today - thanks to a fortuitous combination of circumstances, I managed to achieve Good To Go.


The circumstances:

• warm and mild weather. My favourite weather in Melbourne today: warm but not hot, mildy sunny and blowy. Perfect. No sweating, no freezing, no lugging around an umbrella or a coat
• second day back at the office. This meant I had already lugged in my extra bag with notebooks and files from home the previous day, so I only needed one bag

The outfit:

• slim straight black pants
• long silky top with elbow-length sleeves
• long, black sleeveless jackety thing (dressy, slimming, adds coverage and a little warmth)
• taupe patent platform sandals - comfortable to walk in 
• moderately-sized, non-heavy bag which loops comfortably over arm or shoulder, leaving other hand free for Myki card, phone or coffee cup. 

(I 'shopped my closet' and rediscovered a lovely bag which was not expensive but looks it, and which being mostly fabric is light to carry, while still being roomy [and bonus, the lining is pale caramel, making it easy to find stuff inside]).

I was going in a little late to the office after we dropped the kids at their holiday program, so Y. dropped me at the train station near his work, which is in a MUCH nicer area than where we live. There is a cafe across from the station so while I waited for my train I picked up a takeaway coffee and in my perfect outfit and large sunglasses I swanned stylishly down the street imagining I lived there and that every day I sauntered thusly across the road from my renovated Edwardian house to the train station.  I passed a boutique home furnishing shop which advertised 'Hours: 9.30 - 3.00', and I thought, Well, wouldn't that be nice.

I felt mobile, powerful, stylish and comfortable. I was Good To Go.

Now... what am I going to wear tomorrow?

Image by adamr courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Bad Parent Dreaming

I woke up this morning sweaty with anxiety, tangled in sheets and the remnants of a mix of disturbing dreams.

I had one dream that I sent one of my girls out to work. As she's only five, I went with her to make sure everything was okay, then I dried her tears and pepped her up and sent her on her way.

In another I took my girls out for ice-cream and couldn't control them. One stole something from a shop, one ran out into the middle of a busy road, and neither would do what I asked, commanded, begged, bribed or cajoled. Then I hit them both until a passerby ran up to stop me. I still remember the feelings of rage, shame and helplessness that I was feeling at that instant.

In a third dream one of the girls was declared a dead ringer for our prime minister (though she looks nothing like her), and I was a pushy star-struck mum who agreed we should all hang out in the PM's entourage (?!), even once I found out that my daughter was being used as a body-double/decoy due to her uncanny resemblance to the PM.

I cannot think of any situation in real life that triggered these dreams. Though we did go out for ice-cream yesterday, the girls were good and no one stole anything or lost control. I have never hit them. No one here resembles the prime minister and I don't want my girls to do anything except be pre-schoolers.

But these dreams do all have the "bad parent" theme in common.

What does this mean - am I anxious about the direction things are going? Or do I secretly fear that maybe I am a bad mother?

Probably the second and I would bet that this is a secret fear that most mothers hold, even when they believe they are doing a good job - as they most assuredly are.