Lightbulb!

Another early morning of making the rounds with my puppy. Today was our fun day walk, which means we slow down and meander through the natural areas so she can go wherever her nose takes her. This is far more relaxing and engaging for her than the power walk we normally do because mom ate too much chocolate the night before and is feeling guilty. She often finds a treasure along the way, such as a candy wrapper or dried out squirrel leg (not kidding – fished that out of her mouth one morning!). But today was different. Today’s big explore revealed a treasure for both of us. 

Today she found — a lightbulb.

This was one of those market lights that restaurants hang over their patios for ambience. A treasure for her because it was a bright shiny new object so badly in need of being sniffed and nosed and explored. A treasure for me because it literally gave me an “Ah, Ha!” lightbulb moment.

She found this bulb by itself in a natural area about 30 feet from the edge of the road. Marked by fallen leaves and pine needles, pinecones and acorns, shady spots with moss and soft ground underfoot, the natural area offered the bulb a luxury bed in which to nestle. And nestled it was. Snug and in perfect condition, no cord, no wrapper, no obvious reason for being there. Just a random lightbulb in a nest of nature’s best bedding.

Given the other random trash we find there occasionally, I assumed the lightbulb arrived to its resting place in the same manner as the other trash. Deemed worthless with its contents drained, now a nuisance, and a problem to be fixed quickly so busy lives can keep moving forward.

And I didn’t question that idea.    

Not yet.

As we returned to our walk and headed down the street, I kept thinking about how improbable, if not impossible, it was that someone could throw a lightbulb out of a moving car, between the trees, and into a bed of pine needles that far off the street and the light bulb not have a scratch on it, not a crack in the glass.  Why didn’t it break? And who carries lightbulbs around to throw out of cars? What do you do with a string of lights that is now one bulb short? Nothing made sense.

And that’s when I had my first “Ah, Ha!” lightbulb moment.

All my thoughts and confusion about this lightbulb in the pine needles was based upon my assumption that my explanation of how it got there was true.

I never questioned my explanation. I basically took the first thought that came into my mind to explain and justify what I was seeing and went with it. And went with it I did! Right down the rabbit hole into a not too kind path of judging people who couldn’t wait to find a trashcan and instead chose to make the world their trashcan. Yep, very judgy I was. Judgy and opinionated with a bit of sanctimony thrown in for good measure.

However, when I took a moment to pause, emotionally put on my big girl panties and grow up by leaning into checking my own thoughts, my second “Ah, Ha!” lightbulb moment emerged.

The only thought I knew was absolutely true in the story running unchecked through my brain was this one- I simply did not know how the lightbulb got there.

My first thought was one possible explanation for what happened. Maybe it was right, maybe it wasn’t.

Because that’s what we do. Our brains like life events and the emotions flowing through those events to be clean and tidy. The events and the emotions need to match and, most importantly, make sense. The brain needs to understand everything about the event so it knows where to file the memory in the long term memory filing cabinet.

But when our brain doesn’t understand the context and/or the emotions of the event, it tends to fill in the gaps on its own. It creates its own narrative for the event, wraps it up with a bow, and tucks that unchecked and unverified narrative safely away into our cabinet of memories. The memory is now safe and sound until it’s retrieved and relived.

This is a pretty handy trick when we feel positively about our relationships. Not so handy when we’re feeling uncertain, lacking in confidence, struggling to trust.

Being in a committed relationship and feeling uncertain, lacking in confidence, struggling to trust do not go together. Instead of being comforting like mac ‘n cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, or guac and chips, the emotional brain becomes distressed and confused. It’s like serving broccoli with whipped cream instead of cake and ice cream at a birthday party.

The brain needs the distress and confusion to go away- the faster the better- so it can go back to feeling relaxed and filing happy memories away for safe keeping. When our brain is relaxed and feels safe, our bodies do, too.

But that isn’t always an option, because sometimes the brain doesn’t understand the information it is receiving and therefore doesn’t know how to feel about the event or where to file the memory. Rather than wasting time trying to play detective, the brain quickly creates a narrative that feels good and goes back to filing memories. The brain is happy, the body relaxes, and the story isn’t questioned.

And that can be a problem. That can be a very big problem in relationships. Why? Because the story the brain concocts is often negative and based upon a fear we have. It’s prepping us for the worst-case scenario so the body is physically and emotionally safe just in case the story is true. And stopping to spend time questioning the truth of the story could lead to the disastrous results of learning the story was true.

That was me with the lightbulb.

An intact lightbulb that far from the street or any strings of lights did not make sense. My brain quickly filled with contempt as it created a narrative about people intentionally littering and leaving the bulb there to break and possibly hurt someone with broken glass. How dare they!  My puppy could have chewed on that bulb just as she did the squirrel leg and been seriously injured! Who would do something like that?

Yet…

That didn’t happen. My puppy was the grownup in that moment, and I was the child. She was curious, open to the possibility she was safe and unsafe at the same time. She needed more information. She sniffed and played detective, gathered more information, and decided the lightbulb was not something to be scared of. No need to bark or run away. Just relax and return to her walk and whatever new discovery lay ahead.

I wasn’t curious. I was scared. I was scared of her being injured or losing her to swallowed shards of glass ripping her apart inside and my brain pushed back against that fear with all it’s might. It refocused itself on the judgmental narrative it created as a way for me to avoid one of the events I fear the most- losing my joyful, happy as a lark, sweet pile of rumpled fur and floppy ears who smiles at me everyday and loves me no matter what. The narrative gave an alternative thought to focus my emotional energy upon instead of feeling the distress the comes when we face our biggest fears.

The brain struggles to be curious when it encounters fear or anger or sadness. It wants to make those moments go away and does so by giving us a different focal point for our thoughts, thus allowing us to avoid feeling the fear, anger, or sadness. Yet believing the worst-case scenario it creates often prolongs the fear, anger, and sadness. Being curious, questioning the story, intentionally creating and considering alternative possibilities can be so difficult. It takes time, emotional maturity, and holding oneself accountable to being curious and willing to talk things out when feelings are distressed.

So, I checked my thoughts and held myself accountable to creating and considering another possibility. Maybe the owner of the bulb didn’t realize they dropped it, and its placement there was completely unintentional. That’s the power of being curious- the ability to offer the benefit of the doubt.

Back to the walk, the sniffs, the joy of watching a new day unfold as my puppy and I explored the world.

The world is yours to explore, too. Just pack a bag of curiosity and a loving travel partner.

As always,

Embrace your best self!  Anne