Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman, LMHC

 

I bat right, throw right, and listen left.

 

I wasn't born that way.  When I was very young, I used to listen with my right ear because I used to hold the telephone in my right hand.

 

Reader (you): I know; when you got older and you wanted to write things down while you were talking on the phone you switched the phone to your left hand to write things down with your right hand while you're talking on the phone.

 

Writer (me): Actually, that's not how it happened.  I wasn't writing anything when I was five years old.  What happened was that I got a severe infection in my right ear and it took so long for my hearing to return, which B"H it eventually did, that I became accustomed to holding the phone in my left hand and listening to it with my left ear.  To this day it feels awkward for me to hold a phone in my right hand.  I assume that at first it felt awkward to me to hold it in my left hand, although I truly don't remember.

 

I recently read about an interesting experiment which I would like you to try right now.  Fold your hands.  Now fold them again but this time, weave your fingers the other way, so that the thumb that had been on the bottom is now on top.  Perhaps you are more dexterous than me.  When I fold my hands without thinking about it they fall together quite comfortably, but when I decide to fold them the other way, my fingers bang into each other on the way towards folding.  And, once I've managed to fold my hands in the alternative manner, my hands feel strange. 

 

I was reassured to learn that it's not just me. In a study, subjects reported that it took two weeks for them to feel comfortable with their hands folded in the new way.  

 

Can you imagine reminding someone every time they want to fold their hands, to fold their hands the other way from how they naturally have been doing it for years until they become comfortable with folding their hands in this new way?

 

Do you believe that over time something that feels unnatural can begin to feel less awkward, and eventually, literally, become "second nature?"

 

I was reminded to take the phone with my left hand and hold it against my left ear.  The pain I felt when I pressed it against my right ear reminded me.  Over the course of a couple of weeks, it became second nature to me to listen left.  To this day, if, for some reason, I take the phone in my right hand and place it against my right ear it feels weird.  What had been natural to me has been replaced by a second nature that has supplanted my innate proclivity and rendered it awkward.

In addition, there is the advantage that my right hand is free to take notes while I hold the phone in my left hand.   What started out as an accommodation turned out to be an advantage.

 

I did not break the habit of holding the phone in my right hand against my right ear. I replaced that habit by taking the phone in my left hand and placing it against my left ear.  Most of the time, you cannot "break a habit."  Broken habits have a remarkable resilience.  They rejuvenate; the broken pieces seamlessly bond and the habit returns unscathed.   Most of the time, you can only stop doing something by doing something else instead.  You don't break habits, you replace them.

 

For two weeks, or more, you have to stop what you impulsively begin to do and consciously replace it with what you've decided to do instead.  Deciding to replace a habit with a different habit doesn't make the original habit go away.  You impulsively begin to do what you've been accustomed to doing and you have to stop yourself in mid-motion or midsentence.  "That's why psychologists advise: If you want to change, the most important thing to do is to learn to strengthen your impulse control. The first step is to become aware of your own behavior. Ask yourself three questions: Is my reaction justified?  Is there an alternative to my impulsive reaction?  And what would the benefits of the alternative be?" (Ideas and and Discoveries, August 2012, page 61)

 

Although the magazine article uses the term "reaction," I would prefer to describe it as a behavior.  I like to distinguish between a reaction, which is a visceral experience that takes place inside of me, versus a behavior which is how I express myself as a result of my visceral experience.  Over the course of time, different behavioral responses do result in calmer internal reactions to the same stimuli.  It's not about saying, "if I didn't get so upset I would respond more calmly."  The more realistic approach is "I will respond as though I were calmer, trusting that eventually I will actually remain calmer in these types of situations."

 

I told the children to clean up the toys from all over the living room floor and put them into the toy box while I finished what I needed to do in the kitchen.  I also told them that we would all have ice cream when I was finished with what I was doing as long as the living room was cleaned up.  But when I came back from the kitchen 20 minutes later, the living room looked like they had not put anything away all.  I was furious, and I yelled at them, "Forget about the ice cream!  Why don't you listen to me when I tell you to do something?"  I hate yelling, and I wish I could stop, but when they don't listen I get so frustrated and it's really hard for me control myself.

 

Three questions:

Is my reaction justified?  Yes, the emotion of frustration is justified.  The behavior of screaming is not justified.

 

Is there an alternative to my impulsive reaction?  Yes, you can walk away until you figure out how to express your intense frustration in a manner that is measured and purposeful.

 

What would the benefits of the alternative be?  Your children would see what it looks like to express frustration in a manner that is appropriate rather than screaming.  You would also end up with the toys put away sooner than if you were to scream.

 

For a couple of weeks, or more, your impulse will be to scream.  When you slow down and choose to respond differently, you will form a new habit of thinking first and responding in a way that is helpful; helpful for both you and your child.

 

 

Rabbi Yitzchak Shmuel Ackerman is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor with specialties in marriage, relationships, and parenting.  He works with parents and educators, and conducts parenting seminars for shuls and organizations.  He can be reached at 718-344-6575.