nutrition

stress

 

Map Out Your Life
Loretta LaRoche
Stress Expert and Author

Here's an exercise that I've seen my dear friend and colleague Dr. Ann Webster of the Mind/Body Medical Institute use to enormous success in her workshops.

Get yourself a huge sheet of paper---poster paper, if possible---and a box of markers or crayons.  Starting at one end of the sheet, draw a road map of your life, with your birth as the starting point. 

Draw it as if it were a highway.  As you do, you'll probably find yourself only remembering major events.  These can be landmarks, junctions, or detours.  The landmarks may be easy to spot, or they may unfold as you re-create the journey.  Make sure that you name the players in your life and how they helped and hindered you.  Name the roads, towns, and so forth.

Now start to think deeper.  Begin with your childhood--how did it feel?  Who made a strong impression on you?  Next, move on to your adolescence, school years, marriage, single parenthood (or just single status), illnesses, children, your choice of employment, tragedies, joys.... Can you find names for some of the roads on your particular map?  Is there the Medical School onramp?  The Twin Baby mountains?  The Supercilious Supervisor detour?

Use different colors, stickers, glitter, or anything else that helps you illustrate your defining moments.  Hey, this is your life!  So make it stand out and really show how you lived it.

When you've fitted your map with sufficient detail (and some people find that it's best to work on the map slowly, over the course of days or weeks, to really let the memories develop), it's time to look for the patterns that lead you to meaning.  Do you find that certain behaviors, traits, talents, or passions recur at significant places on your map?  If so, that's a signal that could lead toward your individual sense of meaning. 

One woman I worked with found that her map was riddled with events having to do with music: a high school music teacher was a "traffic cop" who helped her find her way; a junction was the day she chose to attend business school instead of performing arts school.  Later in life, a landmark was a classical music concert with Yo-Yo Ma performed in her town. She'd been so awed by the sound and beauty of the experience that she went out and bought dozens of albums. 

I questioned her about the whole role of music in her life.

"I like music," she said, without enough energy to be really convincing.

"Like it?" I said.

"Well... I like it a lot.  I often feel that when I listen to music, problems wash away."

"So, do you try to listen to music often?"

She shrugged.  "When I can.  There's not much time, with the kids and the housework and my job.  I like long pieces--and I just can't take the time to listen to an hour-long symphony whenever I'd like."

I questioned the place on her map where she chose not to attend a performing arts school.  It turned out that when she was young, she played the cello and was considered quite talented.  But she didn't get much support from her family, who thought she needed to pursue a more traditional career.

"I really was pretty good," she said.

"Do you ever play now?"

No--I don't even own a cello anymore.  I haven't played for years.  I don't think I could even remember the proper finger positions."

Sometimes she'd listen to music if her husband was working late and the kids were asleep.  Her husband wasn't a big fan of classical music, and to get him to sit down with her and listen to a symphony was hardly worth the effort.  He'd be bored by it, and she'd feel self-conscious and guilty... so she didn't even bother.  Why is it that we often let our own passions go to appease others?

It became very clear to me, and soon to her, that the beauty and majesty of music was where she found meaning in life.  Listening to fine classical music was when she felt most alive, energized, and emotional.  She could often find herself in tears as she absorbed the beauty of a particularly intense moment of music.

"But what do I do with this now?" She asked.  "I'm not about to leave my family and go to a conservatory somewhere!"

"Of course not," I said.

This woman was probably never going to play on the concert stage.  She might, of course, if she opted to begin making choices that could lead her there--such as spending less time with her family and at work in order to study the cello.  But it didn't sound to me as if that was what she wanted her life to be.  She liked her career, she loved her family, and she enjoyed things the way they were.  She didn't want to change her entire life in order to pursue a career in music. 

Many of us feel stifled by the feeling that we can't do something we love wholeheartedly and be the best in the world at it, then we shouldn't bother at all.  We think that if we can't be Lance Armstrong, then we shouldn't be riding a bicycle.  But God, how that cuts us out of so many of the wonders of life!

As for my friend the music enthusiast, there were so many ways for her to bring music into her life in a way that would enhance her sense of meaning.  She and I discussed the possibility of her taking a course in music therapy or volunteering at a local hospital to organize a concert performance as a fund-raiser for cancer patients.

For this woman there was something about music that she found transforming, peaceful, emotional, and powerful.  Although she knew that it held meaning for her, she didn't realize that music truly was a need in her life--as important for her well-being as water and oxygen.

There are so many different places where human beings find meaning.  For some, it's the appreciation of nature or of the arts--music, sculpture, theater; for others, it's an intellectual pursuit--mathematics, medicine, geology.  Some people fund it while engaging in sports or a creative act--painting, writing, composing music, photography; while many people find it in humanistic pursuits--parenting, friendship, helping the unfortunate.  Oftentimes, the best of all worlds is when you can combine the humanistic with what brings you joy.  

 

map out your future

Remember when I had you map out your past?  Well, I'd like you to do it again--only this time you'll be focusing on your future.  Where do you want to go, and what do you want to do?  Are there ways you can see yourself leaving a legacy that reflects your life's work?  Are there dreams you've always wanted to realize?

I'm currently trying to create the last part of my journey.  I want to help send my grandchildren to college.  I also want to take singing lessons; travel to China; learn to speak Spanish, do some missionary work; and start an Institute of Health, Happiness, and Longevity.

I know from all that I've done with my life that "the thought does indeed manifest the deed."  Therefore, not everything on your future map has to be of a lofty nature: If what you really want to do is take a road trip to Las Vegas, write it down.  But, ultimately, it's those things that speak to your higher self that will keep the energy of life burning brightly within you.