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Why You Need To Watch "The Lost Daughter"

After reading the novel “The Lost Daughter,” the acclaimed actress Maggie Gyllenhaal (and sister to stud, Jake), became obsessed with the idea of adapting the story for screen.

But she had two giant obstacles in her way.

Even though she’d spent most of her life in front of the camera, she'd never written a screenplay before, and wasn’t sure she’d be any good at it.

But that wasn’t the biggest block. She first had to convince Elena Ferrante, the mysteriously anonymous Italian author to trust her with the story.

Gyllenhaal had only one shot to write the perfect letter. She spent weeks editing and tweaking it to make her plea as honest and vulnerable as humanly possible. And it worked. Ferrante granted her the rights to the story, but under two conditions:

  1. Gyllenhaal could have the screen rights, as long as she directed the movie herself. If she passed it to someone else, the contract would be null and void, forcing Gyllenhaal to quickly overcome her imposter syndrome and make a movie.

  2. Gyllenhaal had to portray the main character, Leda, as sane. Even though Leda's behaviors dance along the edges of sanity, Ferrante didn’t want the character to tip into "crazy lady" territory.

I love that Ferrante made these two conditions explicit because A) She helped a women step into her light and B) She made it really hard for the viewer to judge Leda, which, in my opinion, is what makes the movie so brilliant.

After reading the novel “The Lost Daughter,” the acclaimed actress Maggie Gyllenhaal (and sister to stud, Jake), became obsessed with the idea of adapting the story for screen. 

But she had two giant obstacles in her way. 

Even though she’d spent most of her life in front of the camera, she'd never written a screenplay before, and wasn’t sure she’d be any good at it.

But that wasn’t the biggest block. She first had to convince Elena Ferrante, the mysteriously anonymous Italian author to trust her with the story. 

Gyllenhaal had only one shot to write the perfect letter. She spent weeks editing and tweaking it to make her plea as honest and vulnerable as humanly possible. And it worked. Ferrante granted her the rights to the story, but under two conditions:

  1. Gyllenhaal could have the screen rights, as long as she directed the movie herself. If she passed it to someone else, the contract would be null and void, forcing Gyllenhaal to quickly overcome her imposter syndrome and make a movie. 

  2. Gyllenhaal had to portray the main character, Leda, as sane. Even though Leda's behaviors dance along the edges of sanity, Ferrante didn’t want the character to tip into "crazy lady" territory. 

I love that Ferrante made these two conditions explicit because A) She helped a women step into her light and B) She made it really hard for the viewer to judge Leda, which, in my opinion, is what makes the movie so brilliant.  

 

If you haven’t seen the Oscar-nominated movie, "The Lost Daughter" is about Leda, a 48-year-old professor played brilliantly by Olivia Colman, who’s relaxing Greek island holiday is interrupted and reshaped by a wild, obnoxious, fascinating family from Queens, New York.

The bizarre and uncomfortable interactions between Leda and the family prompt a steady flow of flashbacks to Leda’s early years as a young mother. 

Without spoiling the film for you, these flashbacks flesh out a portrait of a woman with some heavy-ass baggage. As a viewer, we desperately want to judge her baggage, to create space between us and her, but Gyllenhaal won’t let us do that. 

There’s just something about Leda, her imperfections, her realness, her roller-coaster range of emotions, that is endearing. We can relate. I did relate! 


Led's not a bad person, even though she does some truly odd and cringeworthy things that "good moms" on screens just don't do. And the fact that it’s hard to judge her, to label her as “crazy" forces us to acknowledge shadow parts of ourselves that she reflects at us. 

“I hope the movie is compassionate about how complicated being alive is,” explains Gyllenhaal in one of the million interviews I’ve devoured since seeing the film. “I was really trying to open the spectrum of acceptable feelings, and that has been really helpful to me, to allow myself to see in myself all sorts of complicated feelings and not indict myself for them.” 

As a coach I’ve realized that the #1 issue my clients struggle with is self-compassion. We are our harshest critics, no doubt about it. 

And for me this film is a beautiful and powerful reminder that one door to self-compassion is the softening stance towards others. 

Go see this film and let me know what comes up. 

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Zeva and Rachel's Anxiety Cleanse for Trying Times

Before moving to France I worked as a film researcher in NYC. My job was to scour hours of archival images in search of that special slice of recorded history for commercials, news programs, comedy shows and documentary films.

My team created highlight reels whenever we had extra time. They were like mini works of art—curated streams of the most salient images we could find on a specific, often-requested subject.

I loved making those reels. My favorites were “Time-Lapse Nature,” “Race to the moon,” “Early New York City” and, of course, “1970s Fashion.” But there was one reel that I made that changed my life forever: the "WWII” reel.

We had recently received an unusual collection of amateur home movies shot in color in the mid 1930s in Vienna. The movies were taken mostly outdoors and showed the members of the family strolling around town, past storefronts, going to the park, playing in the fields.

What was remarkable about the collection was that the color was so vivid and sharp, like it had been filmed just yesterday.

But beyond the mesmerizing quality of the movies was the shocking content in the background.

It was the first time in my life that I saw swastikas and Jewish hate graffiti in their original colorful context. I didn't realize how integrated into daily life those warning signs had been.

The pain of knowing what happened to millions of innocent families, including my own, just several years after these home movies were made was so hard for my heart to process. I think at that moment, I convinced myself that I wouldn't miss such warning signs. That if something catastrophic started to build up in my world, and threaten everything and everyone precious to me, I would notice. I would know what to do. I would know where to go.

Fast forward to these past few weeks and the horrific unfoldings in Ukraine. My anxiety has been at a feverish high, so much so that my brilliant friend, Rachel, and I decided to do an “anxiety cleanse” during a weekend away.

Before moving to France I worked as a film researcher in NYC. My job was to scour hours of archival images in search of that special slice of recorded history for commercials, news programs, comedy shows and documentary films. 

My team created highlight reels whenever we had extra time. They were like mini works of art—curated streams of the most salient images we could find on a specific, often-requested subject. 

I loved making those reels. My favorites were “Time-Lapse Nature,” “Race to the moon,” “Early New York City” and, of course, “1970s Fashion.” But there was one reel that I made that changed my life forever: the "WWII” reel. 

We had recently received an unusual collection of amateur home movies shot in color in the mid 1930s in Vienna. The movies were taken mostly outdoors and showed the members of the family strolling around town, past storefronts, going to the park, playing in the fields. 

What was remarkable about the collection was that the color was so vivid and sharp, like it had been filmed just yesterday.  

But beyond the mesmerizing quality of the movies was the shocking content in the background.
 

It was the first time in my life that I saw swastikas and Jewish hate graffiti in their original colorful context. I didn't realize how integrated into daily life those warning signs had been. 

The pain of knowing what happened to millions of innocent families, including my own, just several years after these home movies were made was so hard for my heart to process. I think at that moment, I convinced myself that I wouldn't miss such warning signs. That if something catastrophic started to build up in my world, and threaten everything and everyone precious to me, I would notice. I would know what to do. I would know where to go. 

Fast forward to these past few weeks and the horrific unfoldings in Ukraine. My anxiety has been at a feverish high, so much so that my brilliant friend, Rachel, and I decided to do an “anxiety cleanse” during a weekend away.

During the ritual I realized that the beliefs I forged decades ago as a way to protect my deepest survivalist fears have been triggered by the current events. 

I'm sharing the ritual with you below, because it was so helpful for the two of us to move through the squeezing grip of anxious thoughts and into a more productive place—to weep, to connect, to take action. The fear of a looming catastrophe is still there but it’s no longer choking me. I can visualize the thoughts now behind a door with a big "Miserable Hellscape" sign. I know where they come from and where they will lead me. But I feel like I can keep that door closed (for now, at least) so that more constructive thoughts come my way. 

Rachel and Zeva’s Anxiety Cleanse for Trying Times


What you’ll need:

  • One hour of uninterrupted time. 

  • A trusted companion you can share your inner-most fearful thoughts with. (Someone with a soft heart and a strong back who can handle what you present them with and carry your burdens with you)

  • A few sheets of paper that you can tear up into strips. 

  • Pens

  • Tissues

  • Matches

Step 1:

Connect with the anxious feelings in your body, then write each anxious thought down on a separate piece of paper. I started each slip with the cue “I’m anxious about…” and then filled in the rest. Write as many thoughts as you want. There’s no limit. You don’t need to understand them. To justify them. To trace their lineage. Just get them down on paper. By the time you get to step #2 you should feel empty, like there are no more thoughts hiding in the attic of your mind. 

Step 2: 

Once you and your companion each have a nice pile of anxious thoughts in front of you, put 15 minutes on the clock (you can always opt for more time) and choose who will be reading and who will be receiving. 

Step 3:

Start the timer, take a deep breathe, and then read each separate thought out loud. Let any emotions rise to the surface. If you need a moment to pause, to cry, to breathe, take it. Have your companion ask additional questions in a search for patterns. What overall theme is appearing amid the thoughts? If you had to combine them together, label them, give them a title, what would you call them? 

Step 4:

Have your companion ask what life would look like without these thoughts pressing into you? What would that space allow you to feel? What would that space allow you to express? What would that space allow you to do? Share what comes up. Write down anything you need. 

Step 5:

Reverse roles and repeat the same process so that you are now in the receiving/listening/questioning role as your companion shares.

Step 6:

Collect your pieces of paper and find a safe space to burn them. Say a little prayer, or mantra, before you burn the thoughts. This was our prayer: “We choose to release these anxious thoughts, many of which were passed to us by previous generations as a way to protect us. We acknowledge and celebrate their wisdom, but choose to release them in order to make space for new, more hopeful and empowering thoughts to emerge.” 

Step 7:

If you’re feeling inspired, you can take the ritual a step further, and paint or draw a picture for your companion that captures the theme or energy that came up during your beautiful time together. 

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Neuroscience Nuggets #8: Who Am I This Time?

Have you ever found yourself deep in a Netflix binge wondering why you boomerang back night after night?


Well that’s what it’s felt like for me the last few weeks, only the Netflix series I’ve been binging on is my past.


Since the world reopened to travel, my mind has been accumulating massive mileage traveling back and forth in a time spiral, digging up old memories of people, situations and places that I haven’t visited in years.


Why now? Is it middle age settling in? Or is there some secret message I’m supposed to decrypt on the great memory train I keep finding myself on?


These questions and the overarching theme of "nostalgia" have been my obsession for the last three weeks, and my fascination has led me to this neuroscience nugget that I’m excited to share with you today.


Recent brain imaging has shown that thinking about our past self is the same as when we're thinking about another person!


That's right, when our brain consciously reflects on older versions of ourselves, it's akin to watching someone else's life unfold.


It’s the brain’s way of distinguishing “me-today” from “not-me-anymore,” which makes space for a more fluid, context-dependent narrative about who we are as we progress in time.


This especially occurs following significant personal shifts, like changing jobs, schools, relationships, and, in my case, changing country, culture and language!

Have you ever found yourself deep in a Netflix binge wondering why you boomerang back night after night? 


Well that’s what it’s felt like for me the last few weeks, only the Netflix series I’ve been binging on is my past. 


Since the world reopened to travel, my mind has been accumulating massive mileage traveling back and forth in a time spiral, digging up old memories of people, situations and places that I haven’t visited in years. 


Why now? Is it middle age settling in? Or is there some secret message I’m supposed to decrypt on the great memory train I keep finding myself on?


These questions and the overarching theme of "nostalgia" have been my obsession for the last three weeks, and my fascination has led me to this neuroscience nugget that I’m excited to share with you today. 


Recent brain imaging has shown that thinking about our past self is the same as when we're thinking about another person!


That's right, when our brain consciously reflects on older versions of ourselves, it's akin to watching someone else's life unfold.


It’s the brain’s way of distinguishing “me-today” from “not-me-anymore,” which makes space for a more fluid, context-dependent narrative about who we are as we progress in time. 


This especially occurs following significant personal shifts, like changing jobs, schools, relationships, and, in my case, changing country, culture and language!

What that means is that from one moment to the next, we really do leave a part of ourselves behind. 

When I asked my neuroscience professor why this temporal-identity distancing might make sense from an evolutionary perspective, she said “It allows us to be better attuned to what we need in our lives today.” Makes sense, right?

Wallowing in the past can be an easy refuge from the stressors and responsibilities of today’s prolonged pandemic (and I must admit that’s what’s made my binge so addictive), but we can get much more out of the mileage. 

How about, when we find ourselves in a nostalgia tunnel, we ask ourselves:  "What energy from past versions of myself do I want more or less of in my life today?"  

In my case, that question has brought up some very interesting discoveries. 

  1. That I’ve been hovering over my kid's school life in a hyper protective way with the same kind of controlling energy that consumed me decades ago when I tried to help a close friend academically.

  2. That I want to experience the thrill of pouring myself into a complex challenge without knowing where it will take me. 

  3. That I have the stamina and focus to buckle down with a long-haul writing project as long as I’m curious about what I’m learning along the way. 

  4. That I desperately miss the days of my "no-longer-me" youth when my crew of friends and I would turn every gathering into a raucous dance party heavy on Stevie Wonder and Chaka Khan. 

That’s all I’ve got on this neuroscience nugget today but I feel there's more in there to explore.

In the meantime, what about you? What does your “not-me-anymore” self have to share with your “me-today” self about what you want more or less of in your future?

Hit me up and let me know!

PS. I borrowed the name for this post from one of my favorite sleeper movies ever, a short story film with Christopher Walken and Susan Sarandon called "Who Am I This Time," based on a Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. short story. It's brilliant, check it out.

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Neuroscience Nuggets #7: How To Find Your Flow

I’m immersed in what I’m doing. All of my senses are on high-alert. Ideas are bubbling, progress is being made, there's a giddy satisfaction rippling through my body and time is flying by so fast I have to remind myself to come up for air.

It happens when I’m cooking, writing, playing tennis, and hanging out with friends.

But most often it happens when I’m coaching.

This inimitable “in the zone” state is called "flow."

Everyone since the dawn of time has experienced it at some point or another, but it wasn’t officially discovered until Hungarian Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (who sadly passed away last week) coined the term in 1975.

Csikszentmihalyi set out to discover how and why people feel enjoyment in their everyday lives. From artists and chess players to leaders and farmers, for years he studied their daily habits and activities, trying to find that *exact* moment when people feel totally in synch with whatever they’re doing without needing any external motivation to do so.

His research landed on "flow," the moment in time when interest and skill are in perfect harmony, when you feel intrinsic joy and purpose without extreme effort.

Csikszentmihalyi defines "flow" as “a state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience is so enjoyable that people will continue to do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it.”

What's amazing about "flow" (and which leads us to our neuroscience nugget today) is what happens in the brain when you’re in it. Or better yet, what doesn’t happening in the brain.

I’m immersed in what I’m doing. All of my senses are on high-alert. Ideas are bubbling, progress is being made, there's a giddy satisfaction rippling through my body and time is flying by so fast I have to remind myself to come up for air. 

It happens when I’m cooking, writing, playing tennis, and hanging out with friends. 

But most often it happens when I’m coaching.

This inimitable “in the zone” state is called "flow."

Everyone since the dawn of time has experienced it at some point or another, but it wasn’t officially discovered until Hungarian Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (who sadly passed away last week) coined the term in 1975. 

Csikszentmihalyi set out to discover how and why people feel enjoyment in their everyday lives. From artists and chess players to leaders and farmers, for years he studied their daily habits and activities, trying to find that *exact* moment when people feel totally in synch with whatever they’re doing without needing any external motivation to do so.

His research landed on "flow," the moment in time when interest and skill are in perfect harmony, when you feel intrinsic joy and purpose without extreme effort. 

Csikszentmihalyi defines "flow" as “a state in which people are so involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter; the experience is so enjoyable that people will continue to do it even at great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it.”

What's amazing about "flow" (and which leads us to our neuroscience nugget today) is what happens in the brain when you’re in it. Or better yet, what doesn’t happening in the brain.

Since "flow" occurs in the sweet spot between arousal (aka challenge) and control (aka skill), your brain is not experiencing the anxiety of trying to accomplish something beyond its reach, nor is it wandering aimlessly looking for some sort of internal or external distraction. 


Your brain’s attention is so focused on what it's doing that anything unrelated to the task at hand, including self-consciousness, self-doubt, and negative self-speak, is literally squeezed out of the equation. 

When in "flow," “existence is temporarily suspended,” says Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, in his must-watch Ted Talk, so much so that your doubts, hunger, fatigue, and even your kids can’t seem to shake you out of what you’re doing. 

This is what I love most about "flow": 

  1. Being in "flow" is deeply personal, non-hierarchical and non-discriminatory. You can feel like Beyoncé at Coachella even when you’re setting a table for your dinner guests, creating spreadsheets for your clients or doing a workshop on Zoom.

  2. "Flow" is neither about forcing yourself out of our comfort zone to prove your self-worth, nor about avoiding risks at all costs. It's about the sweet spot in-between stretch and security. 

  3. You can find meaning—and "flow"—in all types of professions. You don’t have to be a brain surgeon or the head of NGO to feel a joyful purpose in life. 

So what are the take-aways here?

  • We need both arousal (aka challenge) and control (aka skill) to make "flow" happen. It’s that very special space where our challenges and our skills dance together like Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey .

  • If you're experiencing too much overwhelm at a given task, think about what practical skills you could hone to rise to the occasion (like those steamy nights of "practice" between Swayze and Grey).

  • And if your tasks are feeling pretty stale around the edges, find a way to put your skills to a stretchy challenge, like Swayze teaching a rhythmless teenager how to dance like a pro.

 

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Neuroscience Nuggets #6: The Progress Loop

I had a misty-eyed “goodbye for now” send off recently with a client who just wrapped up her coaching program with me.

We went through the coaching goals created in our first sessions together, celebrating them line by line and shrieking at times because many of her wilful predictions came true in larger-than-expected ways.

Like her goal to grow deeper in her field as a writer and journalist, develop and share her unique perspective on her subject matter with a wider audience.

At the time she wrote that goal, the thought of speaking in public literally made her queasy.

But guess what, not only has she been interviewed on podcasts, she just launched her own podcast and signed with a NYC literary agent who’s working with her on her first book proposal.

But how did she get there? How did she suddenly become so confident, scoring agents, speaking gigs and launching podcasts?

Those are all great questions, and they lead me to this week’s neuroscience nugget:

The common misconception is that in order to launch a new project, say the hard thing, or stand up for a cause, you first need to hit the “confidence store” to stock up on motivation like a jumbo pack of toilet paper before a pandemic.

I had a misty-eyed “goodbye for now” send off recently with a client who just wrapped up her coaching program with me. 

We went through the coaching goals created in our first sessions together, celebrating them line by line and shrieking at times because many of her wilful predictions came true in larger-than-expected ways. 

Like her goal to grow deeper in her field as a writer and journalist, develop and share her unique perspective on her subject matter with a wider audience. 

At the time she wrote that goal, the thought of speaking in public literally made her queasy. 

But guess what, not only has she been interviewed on podcasts, she just launched her own podcast and signed with a NYC literary agent who’s working with her on her first book proposal.

But how did she get there? How did she suddenly become so confident, scoring agents, speaking gigs and launching podcasts?

Those are all great questions, and they lead me to this week’s neuroscience nugget:

The common misconception is that in order to launch a new project, say the hard thing, or stand up for a cause, you first need to hit the “confidence store” to stock up on motivation like a jumbo pack of toilet paper before a pandemic. 

But the neuroscience shows that motivation and confidence are generated because of action, not before it. 

We need to first do the thing in order to reap the benefits of feeling confident and motivated. 

It’s our brain’s reward response for experiencing success at a particular task. 

But how can we hack the system so that we know we’ll be successful at a task before we do it?

The simplest way to do that is to break our goals down into small, 100% achievable steps that we know we can’t fail at.


The process is called the progress loop, or The Progress Principle, a concept coined by authors Teresa Amabile and Steven Kramer during their research into the forward momentum of meaningful work. 

With each new small success, your brains says “way to go, you did it!” by creating a neurotransmitter called Dopamine that makes you feel motivated and empowered to go after the next small challenge on your list. 

For my client, Paige McClanahan, the progress loop kicked off when she said yes to a speaking opportunity even though the thought of doing it made her want to vomit. 

So, the first task was something she knew she could succeed at: just say yes to the opportunity. 

“I knew if I said no it would be out of fear,” she explains. “It was saying yes that led to the next step of growth. It wasn’t perfect, but in a sense that was the most motivating thing about it. The overriding emotion was confidence that I could do it better the next time. And then, all of the sudden, the idea for a podcast came to me fully-formed.”

The Better Travel Podcast,” which Paige launched this week, never would have seen the day had she not begun the progress loop by simply saying yes to an opportunity. 

So, now here are some questions for you:

  1. What important personal or professional goal is just so damn huge that your brain can’t muster the motivation to go after it?

  2. How could you break that goal down into totally achievable bite-size chunks that you know you can succeed?

  3. What’s the easiest first step you can take to kick off the progress loop and get your brain’s reward response working on your behalf?


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Neuroscience Nuggets #5: Emotional Guessing Game

ovak Djokovic, the world’s #1 men’s tennis player and potentially G.O.A.T, rarely shows emotion unless he’s smashing rackets, violently screaming, or accidentally hitting balls at line judges. (Honestly, I’m not a fan though I totally respect what an outstanding athlete he is.)


Yet on Sunday night, as he teetered on the imminent edge of unexpected defeat, the crowd at the US Open Final match rose to its feet to encourage him on, shouting his nickname "Nole, Nole, Nole" in unison.


Novak smiled, waved to the crowd and then did something completely out of character: he showed he was a real human being.

Peaking out from beneath his towel as he wiped the sweat from his face, viewers caught sight of a twisted, anguished mouth that looked like it walked off a Francis Bacon painting.


It became suddenly clear that the typically stoic, unflappable super athlete was having a big, ugly, uncontrollable cry.

And it was shockingly beautiful.


But what was it? What exact human emotion was Novak expressing?

Novak Djokovic, the world’s #1 men’s tennis player and potentially G.O.A.T, rarely shows emotion unless he’s smashing rackets, violently screaming, or accidentally hitting balls at line judges. (Honestly, I’m not a fan though I totally respect what an outstanding athlete he is.)


Yet on Sunday night, as he teetered on the imminent edge of unexpected defeat, the crowd at the US Open Final match rose to its feet to encourage him on, shouting his nickname "Nole, Nole, Nole" in unison. 


Novak smiled, waved to the crowd and then did something completely out of character: he showed he was a real human being. 

Peaking out from beneath his towel as he wiped the sweat from his face, viewers caught sight of a twisted, anguished mouth that looked like it walked off a Francis Bacon painting. 


It became suddenly clear that the typically stoic, unflappable super athlete was having a big, ugly, uncontrollable cry. 

And it was shockingly beautiful.
 


But what was it? What exact human emotion was Novak expressing?
 

  • Was it joy from feeling the love and support of a hard-knocks crowd that usually jeers at him?

  • Was it the dread of letting everyone down?

  • Was it a release of the weight of expectation?

  • Was it frustration and fear?

  • Was it physical pain?

  • Exhaustion?


The truth is that no one besides Novak could really know what the tears were about because, and here comes today’s neuroscience nugget: emotions aren’t uniform, universal reactions to life that have ready-made ways of showing up on our faces and in our bodies.



You can’t know what someone is feeling just by looking at them.


You may think that when you look at someone's face you can understand exactly how they feel. But in fact your brain is guessing, and it's using your own past experiences to make those guesses. 


We construct our own emotional experience, and our perception of others’s emotions, on the spot.

 

“Emotions are your brains’ best guess of how you should feel in the moment,” explains neuroscientist and author of How Emotions Are Made, Lisa Feldman Barret. 


They're your brain’s “creations” of what your bodily sensations mean in relation to what is going on around you in the world, and those “creations” are the sum of three distinctly subjective ingredients:

 

  1. Your internal bodily cues (heart rate, muscle contraction, temperature, etc)

  2. Your external surroundings (what you see, hear, smell, taste, touch)

  3. Your past experiences (and how those past experiences compare to the present)


“Our emotion concepts vary widely from culture to culture. They come with a rich set of rules, all in the service of regulating your body budget or influencing someone else’s," says the founder of The Neuroscience School, Dr. Irena O’Brien. "That’s why we shouldn’t assume that we know how someone else is feeling from their facial expression or body language."


So what do Novak's mysterious tears have to do with you?

  1. It’s easy to assume you know someone’s emotional state through observation, but you’re really just guessing through your own experiential lens. If you want to know what someone is truly feeling, you need to ask them.

  2. Be it your boss, your spouse, your kids, your friends, you shouldn't assume that any one can correctly read the emotions you’re feeling either. Best way for them to know what you’re feeling is to go out on a limb and tell them. 


So, what emotion was Novak truly expressing on the courts? Click 
here to hear all about it from the "Joker" himself. 

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Neuroscience Nuggets #4: The Science Of Self-Compassion

I like to know what I’m having for lunch before I land at the office.


The reason is that I have a short window between clients and that time is precious.


On this particular Tuesday morning, my plan was to pick up a salad at my favorite neighborhood spot on my walk over to work.


I already knew that the Thai noodle salad I had in mind would pair well with the mushroom soup leftover from yesterday’s lunch. (By the way, am I the only person, who does this, dream up lunch plans at 9am?)


Anyhow, as I walked by my favorite spot I saw someone sitting outside I wanted to avoid. He's close with someone I no longer have any contact with. I didn't want any potential awkwardness, so I picked up my pace and let my adored salad fade into the distance.

I continued on, undeterred, and my eyes lit up as I remembered another great spot for salads. But when I got to that bakery I discovered a barren display case where the salads usually reside. It was too early. My plans were foiled once again!


Arriving salad-less to my office I heard myself saying “Zeva! Why you were so weak? You should have been more brave and got what you wanted! Now you need to go out again! You don’t have time for that!”

I could feel my throat tensing up, and feelings of weakness, inadequacy, and not-enough-ness coursing through my body.

And then I remembered this neuroscience nugget I wanted to share with you: negative self-talk is the worst possible thing you can do to yourself. It is toxic as all hell.

I like to know what I’m having for lunch before I land at the office. 


The reason is that I have a short window between clients and that time is precious. 


On this particular Tuesday morning, my plan was to pick up a salad at my favorite neighborhood spot on my walk over to work. 


I already knew that the Thai noodle salad I had in mind would pair well with the mushroom soup leftover from yesterday’s lunch. (By the way, am I the only person,  who does this, dream up lunch plans at 9am?)


Anyhow, as I walked by my favorite spot I saw someone sitting outside I wanted to avoid. He's close with someone I no longer have any contact with. I didn't want any potential awkwardness, so I picked up my pace and let my adored salad fade into the distance. 

 

I continued on, undeterred, and my eyes lit up as I remembered another great spot for salads. But when I got to that bakery I discovered a barren display case where the salads usually reside. It was too early. My plans were foiled once again!


Arriving salad-less to my office I heard myself saying “Zeva! Why you were so weak? You should have been more brave and got what you wanted! Now you need to go out again! You don’t have time for that!”

I could feel my throat tensing up, and feelings of weakness, inadequacy, and not-enough-ness coursing through my body. 

And then I remembered this neuroscience nugget I wanted to share with you: negative self-talk is the worst possible thing you can do to yourself.  It is toxic as all hell. 

Scientific evidence shows that speaking to ourselves harshly, judging ourselves negatively, being unforgiving whenever we feel we like we’ve made a mistake, does exactly the opposite of what we think that kind of self-policing will do. 

Harsh self-criticism doesn’t motivate us. It does just the reverse: it convinces us there’s something wrong with us, that we’re flawed, weak, less valuable and less worthy than other people. 

Those beliefs lead to emotions like shame and guilt. Since those feelings feel like crap, we'll resort to anything to numb ourselves from them. Like giving into whatever immediate, mood-repairing, instant gratification we can find (more social media browsing, more Netflix, more snacks, more procrastination, more negative speak). It’s a very slippery slope. 


When our mindset tells us that we are broken and weak it makes it hard to tap into our willpower, our strength, our convictions, our purpose. By repeating those beliefs over and over and over, we just reinforce our sense of brokenness and weakness. 


So how do we change that pattern? 


When we shift the question around and ask ourselves "How can I make it easier to tap into my willpower, my strength, my motivation and my sense of purpose?" the answer becomes clear: 


It’s not through criticism and self-judgement, but through self-compassion and encouragement. 


Basically by speaking to yourself the way you would speak to your best friend. 


So if my best friend told me her salad story, I’d say something like:

Listen, darling, you wanted to avoid a complex conversation. You wanted to preserve your energy for more important things. You protected yourself from a body budget energy withdrawal. Getting out of the office to grab something will be good for you. You’ll get some fresh air and a change of scenery. And who knows, maybe you’ll even use this story in one of your neuroscience nuggets newsletters.” 

PS. There are some amazing resources and references to the science of self-compassion so if you’re interested in going further you can start here with this wonderful TedX talk by self-compassion expert Dr. Kristen Neff. Her website also has a self-compassion test you can take with exercises to help increase your self-compassion self-talk. 

PPS. Another self-compassion mentor of mine is Tara Brach, who wrote an exceptional book all about it called Radical Compassion

Photo by Giulia Bertelli on Unsplash

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Neuroscience Nuggets #3: Know Your Body Budget

I'm sorry to break the news to you, but your brain couldn't care less if you have a meaningful job, make a positive impact, or feel inspired daily.

It's got one main subject on its mind: to keep you alive and well. Basta!

The brain's #1 job is to regulate your body’s energy so that you can grow, survive and sow your seeds. This is called allostasis, or the body budget.

Think of your brain as a brilliant (albeit not-so-fun) bank account manager. She knows (even when you try to convince her otherwise) the amount of money coming in and out of your accounts at all times. She has exclusive analytics and back-end prediction algorithms that can anticipate and satisfy your spending needs based on your past experiences in order to keep you on track and out of trouble.

The way she works her magic is by:

  1. Perceiving the sensations within your body (which she reads without your conscious awareness).

  2. Perceiving the information from the outside world via your skin, your eyes, your ears, etc.

  3. Interpreting your internal and external worlds to decide the best way to allocate your body’s energy to keep you alive based on your past experiences.


While she's fussing over all of this data, you, my friend, are doing normal life things that may strain your body’s budget in small and big ways: filling your to-do lists will impossible tasks, meeting up with friends four nights in a row for drinks, bing-watching Netflix series and going to bed each night after midnight, eating take-out because you have no time to cook, feeding yourself a steady stream of anxiety-producing news. Sound familiar?

I'm sorry to break the news to you, but your brain couldn't care less if you have a meaningful job, make a positive impact, or feel inspired daily.

It's got one main subject on its mind: to keep you alive and well. Basta! 

The brain's #1 job is to regulate your body’s energy so that you can grow, survive and sow your seeds. This is called allostasis, or the body budget. 

Think of your brain as a brilliant (albeit not-so-fun) bank account manager. She knows (even when you try to convince her otherwise) the amount of money coming in and out of your accounts at all times. She has exclusive analytics and back-end prediction algorithms that can anticipate and satisfy your spending needs based on your past experiences in order to keep you on track and out of trouble. 

The way she works her magic is by:

  1. Perceiving the sensations within your body (which she reads without your conscious awareness).

  2. Perceiving the information from the outside world via your skin, your eyes, your ears, etc.

  3. Interpreting your internal and external worlds to decide the best way to allocate your body’s energy to keep you alive based on your past experiences.


While she's fussing over all of this data, you, my friend, are doing normal life things that may strain your body’s budget in small and big ways: filling your to-do lists will impossible tasks, meeting up with friends four nights in a row for drinks, bing-watching Netflix series and going to bed each night after midnight, eating take-out because you have no time to cook, feeding yourself a steady stream of anxiety-producing news. Sound familiar?

Your day-to-day habits can take a toll on your body budget, resulting in a distressed bank manager who can resort to extreme behaviour to get your attention (like burning out, having a panic attack, lashing out at your kids at the end of an exhausting week).

But, more often than not, she’ll just send out a more subtle vibe or outlook on life. 

In scientific terms, this is called “affect.” In common language, it’s called mood and it’s the energetic budget our brain is working with. 

Affect is the general sense of feeling you experience throughout your day. It’s much simpler than an emotion and is based on the intersecting levels of two general feelings: pleasantness (aka valence) and intensity (aka arousal).


The combinations of high to low valence and high to low arousal look like this: 

Screenshot 2021-07-06 at 12.43.43.png

When your body budget is unbalanced, it colors your mood. But a general bad feeling doesn’t always mean that something major is wrong (e.g. Like you need to leave your life and move to Brazil). It could mean that, or it may simply mean that you are taxing your body budget. 

What's the best way to maintain your body budget and positively influence your mood and energy? Healthy diet, exercise and optimal sleep are the three main ingredients to a balanced body budget. 


So, what's the moral of the story then? Before you jump to conclusions about what's wrong with humanity, or make big life decisions, you might want to first stop and look at your body budget. Are you hungry? Exhausted? When did you last get some exercise?


These very basic factors have HUGE implications on our moods, and therefore on everything. 

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Neuroscience Nuggets #2: Fantasy vs Visualization

I use images and visualization regularly in my coaching and workshops. So naturally I was thrilled to hear that my neuroscience program devoted a lesson to visualization.


But when my teacher prefaced the class by saying there was a right and very wrong way to use it, my internal doubting alarm went off.

"Yikes," I thought! "What if I’ve been doing something wrong? What if scientists scoff at it? What if it's a just a feel-good technique that doesn't really move the needle?"

First off, reader, we can both breathe a sigh of relief. Visualization isn't going anywhere in my practice. Au contraire, it's about to get very next level.

But let's back up the tape and get some terms straight before I tell you how:

I use images and visualization regularly in my coaching and workshops. So naturally I was thrilled to hear that my neuroscience program devoted a lesson to visualization.


But when my teacher prefaced the class by saying there was a right and very wrong way to use it, my internal doubting alarm went off.

"Yikes," I thought! "What if I’ve been doing something wrong? What if scientists scoff at it? What if it's a just a feel-good technique that doesn't really move the needle?"  

First off, reader, we can both breathe a sigh of relief. Visualization isn't going anywhere in my practice. Au contraire, it's about to get very next level. 

But let's back up the tape and get some terms straight before I tell you how: 

  • Visualization is using your imagination to conjure up a future scenario that you can see in sharp detail in your mind’s eye, and even feel in your body.

  • It can be a very powerful tool when you need to get creative, dream big, try on different versions of the life you'd like to live, and see what feels right!

  • It can also motivate you to accomplish something super hard, messy, and meaningful (e.g. feeling the joy and relief of giving birth without an epidural; hearing your name called at the graduation ceremony after four grueling years of studying; feeling the warm, smug smile on your face after finally beating your son at tennis).

BUT, and this is a very important BUT, if you don’t back those delicious images up by also visualizing the process of getting to your goal, the vision simply stays a fantasy. 

According to my professor, Dr Irena O’Brien, "Fantasies can actually hinder success because they embellish future events regardless of past performance and the probability of future occurrences. Therefore, they fail to be a solid basis for acting." 

 

When you visualize the steps you need to take to move yourself along your path, however, you not only feel less anxious and more confident about what you need to do, you make it much more likely to achieve your goal.

By visualizing the process as opposed to just the result, you’re giving your brain a practical road map to understand and anticipate the resources needed to move you forward.

So, in a nutshell, if you want to go after something specific, you can’t just visualize the end-game, you also need to: 

  • Visualize the process to get there.

  • Be sure to include any potential internal or external roadblocks or temptations you might encounter along the way.

  • Then come up with a plan to overcome those road blocks, or better yet, create an environment that helps you avoid them entirely (more on that in the next neuroscience nugget newsletter).

 

Photo courtesy Unsplash: https://unsplash.com/photos/aPNE3B0WHTM

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