Nine out of ten times, when I ask couples why they are coming to therapy, they say something like, “We want to learn better communication tools”. And nine out of ten times when I ask people who are feeling depressed why they are coming to therapy, they say some version of, “I want some tools to feel happy again.” It seems like we are all looking for tools to feel understood, to make better decisions, and to love better.
But what exactly are these tools we all want to possess and to use wisely? What tools do good communicators have in their tool boxes? What tools help us face rage, addiction, depression or other forms of sorrow?
In short: What tools are in the good life tool box?
Addressing these questions is what this series of posts is about. Together we will figure out what tools you have, what tools you need, and what tools you didn’t even know were available to you. And, oddly enough, the very act of assembling the tool box helps us learn how to use some of them. And the more we use the tools, the more naturally they fit in our hands, and the more readily we reach for them when we are in need.
So while we can’t master all of the tools, it does seem to me that together we – you, me, my friends, family, and clients – can identify and get proficient with a lot of them.
Moreover, we can make our quest highly creative and tangible by thinking of real-world equivalents to emotional / intellectual / and spiritual tools. For every emotional, intellectual, or spiritual tool like Compassion, or Curiosity, or Grace, there must be a real world thing that is similar. Something we can hold in our hands, something we use to make the world better, to find joy, to soothe our loved ones.
So that’s the next question this series of posts is all about: What real world tool is most similar to Compassion or Curiosity or Grace or the other tools in the Good Life Tool Box? It’s a question I’ve had a lot of fun with in conversation over the last couple of years.
Again, the good news is that by asking the question, we practice using the tools. (In this case Curiosity, Flexibility, and Stick-to-itiveness)
Some of the Tool pairs that we’ve come up with are:
The Cradle of Compassion.
The Flashlight of Curiosity.
The Bird Feeder of Grace. Grace, like bird feed is given freely and without any demand or condition placed on the giving.
The Scrunchie of Compromise. If this one has you scratching your head, ask someone with long hair.
That’s the first four. Any stand out for you? My favourite is Grace is like a bird feeder.
Do any not quite work in your imagination? Is it hard to think of Compassion as a tool? Is it hard to think of a cradle as a tool? – Took a bit of a stretch there.
Not all the tools are so good feeling. After all, life can be gross and sticky and sometimes you end up with a sore nose and an iron taste in your mouth. So, a couple of the “tools” are going to going to reflect that. (I promise to keep those posts G rated, too).
For instance: Resiliance is like the wad of Kleenex you shove up your nose so you can keep playing even when you have a nose bleed. After all, if Resilience is anything, it’s the ability to keep on keeping on, even when you’re bleeding.
So that’s five, and a good start to a full tool box: Compassion, Curiosity, Compromise, Grace, and Resilience. I’ll try to have mini-essays up about each of these tools before Christmas break.
One last note:
Now just like the real world tools like hammers and screwdrivers, all of the emotional and intellectual tools are available to us. All of us. And, just like real-world tools, they can feel awkward or difficult to use at first. Luckily, with practice and a lot of help and guidance, we can learn how to be more compassionate, or gracious, or resilient. We can learn to use those tools, just as we managed to assemble that flat packed cradle (or bookshelf, or bunkbed) that came with either no instructions or with instructions in languages we don’t speak.
And, before I go, a request:
As you’ve noticed, using the tools requires a bit of an open mind and a spirit of play. It might seem absurd to call a cradle (or a wad of Kleenex) a “tool”, but I looked in my tool boxes and nothing in them looked much like Compassion or Resilience to me. So, I’m going to ask that you roll with me on some of these. And, of course, I’m hoping you’re inspired to dream up your own tool box.