September 23, 2015

Why monitoring a child's weight and height DO matter

I applaud this article!

How Monitoring Your Child's Pediatric Growth Could Help Prevent An Eating Disorder by Dr. Lauren Muhlheim.

This is thorny: parents need to know that they can't tell by looking at someone whether they have an eating disorder. But you DO need to know your child's normal growth pattern.

It isn't that weight is the only symptom, but parents you do need to know your child's growth trajectory. You can not tell by looking if your child is failing to gain height or weight due to subtle restriction. That restriction could be from a number of reasons, as the article states, but it is not normal and may be an early sign of mental illness.

The best time to intervene is as soon as possible. For those predisposed to these deadly mental illnesses you may be able to intervene early enough to stop it in its tracks.

Believe me, you do not want to wait until you can see it. And this is not just anorexia nervosa, this is all eating disorders: restriction is the beginning of bulimic and binge eating patterns as well.

Monitoring growth isn't everything, but it is REALLY important!

September 18, 2015

Caring for an adult in the US with mental illness? Please participate in this NAMI survey!

It is hard to care for a child with mental illness. But for those supporting an adult child suffering from mental illness the task is exponentially more difficult: there are administrative and privacy and legal hassles, there is the wear and tear of chronicity, and the world is likely to be telling you to "let go."

Parents with adult patients in their care are stuck in a limbo of parenting without the rights of a parent, locked in perennial negotiation with an illness that is not likely to respond logically or in the person's best interests.

As a longtime mental health advocate I have seen the larger mental health world pretty much ignore eating disorders, and ED advocacy has until recently opted out of the larger mental health advocacy picture.

So, it is with enthusiasm and hope that I share this survey out of NAMI, a leading US mental health advocacy organization, looking for responses from US caregivers of adults.

If we want change, and we want to be considered in the mental health arena, we as families need to step up whereever we can to be counted and to be heard. This survey is one of those opportunities, and passed on to me by another wonderful parent advocate, Joan Riederer of the Erin Riederer Foundation.

September 16, 2015

new video describing the family experience of anorexia nervosa

There's a new video out there for parents facing an anorexia nervosa diagnosis:

I love seeing content being created by parents for parents. These parents have done a wonderful job describing their experience and what they have learned. It is a compassionate, respectful, and meaningful view of their daughters as well.

There is much here to learn from these parents that applies to ALL eating disorders, and of course to male patients as well. Although they are not addressing adult patients in the film I also see this as in principle a grounding view of all eating disorders.

Congratulations to Parents to Parents!

September 15, 2015

F.E.A.S.T. event in DC coming up: October 27, 2015

Join other F.E.A.S.T. families at an event in Washington DC on October 27, right before the MOM March at the Capitol:

Caregiver Lunch & Learn Event
Speaker: Mark Warren

Register NOW!

July 21, 2015

Women's Plaza of Honor

The other day a young woman I know deflected a compliment. A seasoned old woman, I admonished her, saying that not taking compliments is bad for self-esteem and leads to being dismissed in society.  Also, it insults the giver.

She expressed her instictive horror at appearing to brag or be conceited. She also didn't want to be seen as ungrateful. As we discussed this we realized that while we both feel uncomfortable with appearing braggy or full of ourselves we also recently had experiences with being passed over or not taken seriously -- or even SEEN -- because we waited for others to acknowledge our contribution.

Worse still, our ungracious deflecting was surely an insult to the giver and invalidates their opinion.

So then today I laughed because I was cleaning up files and updating my resume and came upon an honor, a compliment, really, that I myself didn't want to brag on and thereby have failed to fully acknowledge the gift of receiving it.

I felt funny about "bragging" so I accepted this honor privately and although I squealed with delight with my mom (it's not bragging when it's your mom), I took the modesty route and didn't make a big deal over it. But it is a big deal when someone acknowledges you and your work and while I fall over myself to do that for others I have never found a way to feel gracious doing it myself.

After all, we don't do this work for the fame or the money or to be loved. We do it because we are inspired to and want to help others, just as those who came before us and inspired and encouraged us.

I am HONORED and GRATEFUL and very pleased to have been nominated and accepted for a brick in the Women's Plaza of Honor at The University of Arizona by my friend and fellow advocate, Jennifer Aviles. Thank you for noticing and showing your appreciation for my advocacy. I can't tell you how thrilled and validated and happy it makes me. I am proud to be among other women so honored. 

Taking a bow, and blushing, and encouraging us all to take compliments with at least as much pride as modesty.

July 18, 2015

Read it? Review it today!

If you're a reader, then you need writers, and writers need YOU. We only need two things in life: to be read, and to be reviewed.

Post a review for a book you've recently read. It matters!

I'd love it to be one of mine, of course, but reviews only take a moment of your time, don't need to be works of literature themselves, and they keep the readers in charge of what happens to books.

on Amazon
on Goodreads
on LibraryThing

ps if you would like a review copy of any of my books, let me know!

July 16, 2015

F.E.A.S.T. Executive Director describes advocacy goals and approaches

Fantastic, must read blog post from Leah Dean at F.E.A.S.T. today. She says what many of us think and believe, expressed beautifully!

Same Brain: Different Operating System

On a personal note, I've been disturbed, myself, to see conflict inside the ED world of a kind I never thought I'd see. People with many of the same beliefs I have about evidence and science and parent involvement are forming their own groups and factions and running into many of the same obstacles and road blocks I know well. These informal groups are not always operating with the accountability and civility that I feel is so important. They are not always taking the time to understand the history or to know who has done or is doing what. Some individuals are making demands without having earned trust, confusing informal lists of people with accountable organizations, personalizing their critiques and making the issues into conflicts between people and not ideas, calling out organizations and individuals in the field instead of recognizing them as allies.

Also worrying is the resurgence of parent-led advocacy that repeats history by promoting ideas about parents and eating disorders that are not evidence-based and not parent empowering. Factions and fights and splitting are abundant. And people are confused.

I'm seeing people be exiled and shunned and pathologized. This is not the way I operate or recommend that others do either.

I know the temptation of throwing bombs. I've thrown some myself. They always land in my lap because I didn't recognize that change in the ED family comes through persuasion and trust, not being "right." I had a lot of "shoulds" in my head: people SHOULD understand, SHOULD behave differently, SHOULD have courage, SHOULD operate logically, and SHOULD trust me. Didn't work.

We are a family whether we like it or not. If you make an enemy in this world its a small room, and there's no room in here to stalk off and sulk. If we as an individual don't gain the trust of others we don't get very far and we often hurt our allies and the ideas we hold dear. You may be right, and you may not be the person you're accused of being but if the perception is there you aren't going to be effective until it is repaired. If you are associated with someone who has, rightly or wrongly, gotten a bad reputation or scared people, you carry that burden and have to fix that first. It "shouldn't" be that way, of course. People should do the "right" thing and they should believe the science as we know it. But, we're not there. And we're not going to get there as individuals or even as single groups.

The way forward, I find, is in accountable advocacy. F.E.A.S.T. started with just a handful of people, as Leah Dean describes so well, who built the scaffolding and accountability for the principles and beliefs we hold dear. It built a structure for present and future parent advocates and those who care about parents and science to do effective advocacy, to have a collective voice. An accountable voice. As individual members of F.E.A.S.T. each of us has a single voice but by supporting the organization's work we speak as a group.

You can be part of that voice, or you can distract from that voice.

Accountable advocacy is a team sport. It isn't as immediately satisfying as an angry tweet, or intimidating someone who disagrees with you. It isn't as visible, often: building relationships and real conversations are not showy. And it doesn't always feed your ego and make you well "liked" on Facebook.

Much of the very personalized infighting I see going on at the moment is about individuals, not ideas. I support F.E.A.S.T. because it keeps all our egos in check and is about more than any one of us or any informal group of us. But it also depends on the families it supports to support it through joining, volunteering, donating, and sharing it with others.

I don't want to hurt those in the field with whom I disagree. I want to persuade them, and learn alongside them, and succeed together in our common goal: better ED treatment. That doesn't mean not having or stating or pressing my points. It means doing so in a way that acknowledges our common goals and humanity. It means listening as much as talking. It means establishing trust, which can't be forced or demanded. Too small a room, and too fractured and embattled from the outside. We're a family and have to pull together and resolve our disagreements if we want to have a clear voice to the public and to policy makers and the media. We have disagreement and that's okay. Resolving them is what we need to do, not "win" or prove others wrong.

We're getting closer. Let's "keep going."

July 11, 2015

60 seconds of lovely

Cute cat videos are good, but I get my blissful moments this week by way of moments like this:

In the rare moments of sundown in Norwegian summer, gorgeous colors and peace.

July 5, 2015

The Norwegian art of slow

Writers live on coffee and resisting distraction.

Hubby is in charge of the coffee around here: he roasts and brews it.

Distractions, well, those are my problem.

This week I'm unable to tear myself from the live feed from a ship travelling south along the coast of Norway, a project called Sommerb├ąten 2015. In a few days the boat will pass right by my ancestral island, where the Lysters come from, but my fascination with this very "Slow TV" phenomenon from Norway is deeper than that.

It is "hynotic." One recent night I spent hours on the phone with my daughter, both of us watching it on our own devices, noting the scenery and the light, watching the landscape of coastal Norway pass by. My husband and I keep calling out highlights from various screens. Smaller boats come and accompany the boat for a while, then trail off. Families come down to the shore, in groups around bonfires or waving signs and flags.

There are long stretches, hours long, of the boat simply sitting on the dock and you are sitting there too, looking at people walking and biking by. Yesterday there were folks on horseback. The sounds of a boat at rest. Here's a highlight reel, below. #sommerb├ąten is the hashtag, should you care to follow along.

Occasionally, in Norwegian prime time, there are little concerts and interviews, but I'd just as soon skip that. When the boat is moving between ports someone's very eclectic playlist is alongside, from Norwegian rap to American country and everything in between.

I can't embed the feed, but you can visit the page here. If the current view gets too dull you can position it back in time and see highlights from the past week. If you're lucky you'll catch the very cleverly produced Mystery on the Summer Boat drama that is part of the show. Mostly, you experience the fjords and islands and birds, and families waving.

With nearly 23 hours of sunlight this time of year, Norway is an excellent place to offer a 24 hour live feed. There's something to see at all hours, even if it is only birds going by and a change in the rain.

As distractions go, however, it's not ideal. I can keep the screen up in the corner and it doesn't need my attention very much. It's ambiant and contemplative most of the time. Even the speaking, since I only know 25 words of Norwegian, isn't as diverting as it could be.

Better, though, than the very popular overnight fireplace cam experience they called National Firewood Night in 2013. That was way too short.

So, I keep drinking coffee, keep writing. But I have no doubt that this summer's writing will have a distinct sense of space, of sea and sky, of sweaters even in July, and people waving as we pass by.

June 23, 2015

Charlotte's Squee

(note: I wrote this while on my recent trip to Australia, but was unable at the time to post)

Squee. That's what she would say. That's what she IS saying, in my head. That's the price of having a dear dead friend with a terribly strong voice is that she still talks to you, even when what you want rather miserably much is for her to hear you because Charlotte would very much have wanted to follow me on my trip to Australia where we both have so many dear shared friends. 

Today at a picnic she was the one we toasted. Not because she is gone but because she is so very present. Not because we miss her so much as that she is with us. It's ust annoyingly one-sided. We hear her loudly and clearly. She continues to hold us to account and not let us get too full of ourselves.

In short, Charlotte Bevan is still having a laugh at our expense and as a result we are still laughing at ourselves.

She would love that her friends met at Kings Park for a picnic and a Kookaburra swooped in to take a bit of bread. She would love that we sat and schemed for helping families over a good meal watching ducks and children around a pond. She would know or want to know every one of us around the circle, and because she was Charlotte everyone there knows her.

I suppose that won't always be true, but it will always be some part of any group of parents around the world into the future because she changed the world, whether people continue to know why or not. There was a terribly important person who personally helped countless people and the ripples of that will not end.

She's not alone. She was singular, our Charlotte, but not alone. I have known countless parents who have paid it forward over the past many years, and each has played a role. No one will remember them all but I have the honor to have known so many. It is times like this trip where it hits me the strongest. Someone approaches me a stranger but we are not, they simply reveal themselves as part of this web, this community over time. I have been a named person over time but I am really only that. This is a movement, a society of people who don't all know one another but their networks connect to one another and we are all part of that whole. Most have contributed and moved on, leaving a legacy without a name attached, and one significant one has permanently been taken, but it's bigger than any of us. What is it? It's a society of parents and patients and siblings and professionals who are moving the conversation forward. It is a cohort bringing new paradigms to life.

Charlotte you would be so proud. Charlotte we are proud on your behalf and in your name. Charlotte, I am in Australia visiting our friends. Charlotte you really are here.

June 15, 2015

Wombats, Platypi, and Kangaroos.... oh, and people, too!

OK, so the only wombat I saw was stuffed, the platypus was almost certainly a duck, but there were more kangaroos than I could count.

Friends are asking for my travelogue of Australia. I am finally awake and caught up on laundry enough to try!

The trip over: via Abu Dhabi. Desert after desert. I've never flown over such aridity. A moonscape. It was overwhelming and disorienting. It swallowed up the endless ocean before and made me less intimidated by the ocean to come.

Boarding flight for Perth spied two other women with blue hair. Good sign.

Arrived Perth pretty spry and giddily smug: my back didn't hurt at all. All credit to Dr. Charles Seal at Blue Ridge Orthopaedics and Julie Royal and the team at Innovative Physical Therapy. I went to them with the worst possible idea: despite chronic mind-altering back pain from a torn disk I would still like to sit for 48 hours round trip on planes and yank around heavy baggage and sleep in five different beds and be very busy all day for two weeks, okay? They all said "why not?" and helped me with the pharmaceutical and exercise and stretching regime to not just get through it but to return home BETTER than before. I was prepared to return to my home airport on a stretcher but instead was simply and appropriately confused by the time zones. My lifelong dream of going to Australia and the great generosity of my hosts could have been spoilt but instead were saved and I am so deeply grateful.

Arrived Perth to see my name on a sign held by the estimable Don Irvine, my host and sponsor who felt like an old friend already. From a stubborn insistence that since I was already going to be in the country I need to stop by and "meet parents" in West Australia, he waved away my feeble objections and created a day-long event for local parents! He embodies "no worries!" combined with "get 'er done."

I arrived in the afternoon to a Swedish massage, a gorgeous sunset over Scarborough Beach, room service dinner with a cold beer, and a view from the balcony that staggered my confused but happy mind. Such spoiling is not the norm in my life. Man, did I enjoy it!

Sang for my supper the next day, where I learned far more than I may have shared, at the Bridging the Gap: Collaboration with Clinicians and Carers" eating disorders forum put on by Bridges and F.E.A.S.T., with partnership from EDTEC, Centre for Clinical Interventions, the EDP at Princess Margaret Hospital, the Body Esteem Program, and the Hollywood Clinic, and sponsored by the Mental Health Commission. I mention all those partners because it usually takes almost two years to put on a conference, especially to build a coalition to do so. Don and his collaborators pulled it off in about three months for a very engaged, well-attended room full of Perth area parents. 

my first Australian sunset
I learned important facts about Australians that first day in the country. One: Australians are incredibly polite. I have been around the world and spoken to many audiences. I've never seen any other place where people are so generous to the speaker and fellow audience members. I did not see one glance at a cell phone. Not a single loud candy wrapper. No loud whispering. No coming in late or stepping out early. No fidgeting or self-important speeches in the form of a question. Talks started on time and ended on time everywhere I went.

Two: this politeness meant that if I wanted to see a roomful of completely silent slightly worried faces all I had to do was ask for general comments. 

Three: something I should have remembered knowing my Australian friends and colleagues already -- do not take large sips of anything you don't want to go up your nose when you laugh, which you will, often, because the Australian sense of humor is both dry and mischievously timed. I cannot tell you how often I had to wipe my eyes after a laughing fit. There is no mascara equal to this problem.

The next day, after another blissful night's sleep, I solved the mystery fruit (persimmon!) in the breakfast buffet with the help of Facebook friends around the world in real time and finally the kind kitchen crew at the Rendezvous Hotel. I walked the beach at dawn. Picked up some shells and stood enjoying the exuberant surfers and realized (this SHOCKED my Aussie friends) that I'd never actually watched surfing up close. Weird but true: I grew up around skiing not surfing, and somehow missed this essential people-watching experience. It's similar: compulsive controlled falling on H2O. But surfing does look like more fun. No sharks on ski slopes, however.

That morning some F.E.A.S.T. families put on a buffet picnic at King's Park, where I got a tour of flora and fauna and memorials and the view from above the city of Perth. At the end of my trip a young friend insisted I declare my favorite city in Australia. It was Perth. Sorry, Melbourne and Sydney, but really, Perth is gorgeous and she was my first.

My mom used to sing me a song with the line "Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he..." Well, I now know exactly what a gum tree is. And, I know why the kookaburra was so full of himself: he steals! Gordon, a F.E.A.S.T. dad and able MC for the Perth conference, was gesticulating with a piece of bread when an enormous dark bird swooped down to snatch the whole piece and fly off with it! Tell this story to an Australian and they know it all too well. Tell it to an American and we say "Kookaburras are birds?" Yes, and what a bird. I loved the magpies, though. The trill of magpies were my favorite sound of the trip.

The Kings Park picnic was my first experience of Australian kids curious to hear me speak American. I'm sure I was a disappointment, though, because I later realized they expected Marge Simpson. Sorry kiddies! My favorite comment about my American accent, however, came from a friend who declared it to be more pleasant than she thought it might be, almost, Canadian....  High praise. I managed not to say that most Americans assume all Australians -- male and female -- look, sound, and carry large knives like Crocodile Dundee. Who I think would be a good partner to Marge Simpson, really.

this is not a snake.
The park was my first chance to examine Australian nature, and now I make my confession. I flew over with the belief that there is A Eucalyptus tree, and A Kangaroo. Hey, I'm only 54. Now I can spend the second half of my life properly schooled with the knowledge that there are many types of both. 

On a stroll of the park I lost at least a year of my life to fright over a Kangaroo Paw plant, because when someone enthusiastically points behind me and shouts "Look!" I expect a python, not a plant. But it probably made my blue hair stand on end like Marge, so...

Picnic over it was to the airport for flight to Melbourne, after only 48 hours on the ground. Happily, some of the WA friends would be joining the At Home With Eating Disorders conference, too, so it was partly farewell and partly good-bye. Thank you, Don, and Perth friends, for the welcome and the tour and the cookies and the beautiful present and, of course, the Kookaburra.

I've never been flown around the world and taken care of as on this trip, but I again arrived into the arms and hosting of a new old friend, Belinda Caldwell, with baggage behind me and no idea of what was ahead. I'm surprisingly good at this princess-like oblivion, it turns out. I may have been meant for it, because I noticed that my iPhone only needs the letters "P-R" and it autofills "PRINCESS." Just saying. Belinda gave me an evening tour sweep of Melbourne and installed me at a guest house near her family home in Richmond. Rotherwood is, indeed, "elegant accommodation close too the heart of Melbourne," and to my surprise I was the only tenant. Way above my station, I went ahead and enjoyed the heck out of it: the art, the luxurious furniture, the lovely sounds of the neighborhood. It was like a Victorian poetess stepped out in 1885 and never came back, but her retinue keeps things in working order for her return. I got to know the local shops, had my flat whites outdoors, and managed not to get lost when out on my own.

Belinda, who aside from being busy on the conference committee was also my guide and chauffeur and friend throughout, drove us out to see the author, June Alexander, at the Geelong Clinic where she guides a diary-writing workshop for the eating disorder wing there. There I had my first taste of both Vegemite and Lamingtons. (Not in the same bite!) Vegemite struck me as thick gravy spread thin. Lamingtons were lovely and multi-layered. So were the diary-writers, whose questions and observations and insights were an ideal first stop in my tour of Australian clinics. I enjoyed learning about their work, their recovery program, and June's diary project. Then fish and chips on the water. Bliss. I admire and adore June, so having time with her and Belinda was one of those quieter moments of "wow. I'm here. we're here. amazing." I had a lot of those moments these past weeks.

Hit the wall that afternoon and slept for 11 hours waking up for the first time feeling really human. The indefatigable Belinda, juggling conference duties and navigation and multiple schedules and phone calls, got us to three clinics in dizzying speed. First we had a meeting at CEED, the Victorian Centre for Excellence in Eating Disorders, where she serves as a Carer Consultant, and we had our first of the many teas (coffee breaks, American friends). I am excited at the work she is doing there and the wonderful collaborative model I see. I have a vision now of what could be if care teams included not only families but had the involvement of a Carer Consultant just as teams have psychiatrist and dietician and therapist around the table. The respect that the CEED team has for the carer perspective, and for Belinda's particular skills, offered a view of what could be happening elsewhere. I'd like to see where this goes!

these are meerkats at the
live human child
Then it was a run over to Royal Children's Hospital where we sat in on a meeting of the eating disorders team over a Gold Coin Tea. Although I was childishly anticipating the meerkat enclosure in the outpatient waiting room (Adorbs!) I was instead disarmed and moved by the ED team's professionalism and focus. 

One thing I want to observe about that visit that I found consistent among those clinics in Australia that offer Family-Based Maudsley Treatment is the unapologetic manner in which they talk about it. One of my pet peeves in our field is the "it doesn't work for everyone" and the "when I think it is appropriate" and "only for young compliant patients" wording that many use. None of which is necessary because no one thinks FBT is "for everyone" or always appropriate. It's refreshing to hear people say "I do FBT" just as any doctor would say "I prescribe penicillin" without having to explain when they don't. FBT should, at this point, simply be part of the toolbox for clinicians treating eating disorders. No one should be treating EDs without being able to offer or refer to FBT. Period. No apologies or provisos. It's a tool. It is a set of clinical skills and principles that inform treatment that doesn't fit neatly within the researched populations. It isn't "controversial" any more and doesn't need to be apologized for.

Not that FBT is widely offered in Australia but I have to comment on the confidence with which those who do are able to talk about it. We need more of that elsewhere.

Last clinic of the day was a CYMHS clinic. I'm going to confess that when I arrived there and when I first sat down to hear about the program I was quite clear in my mind that eating disorders are always best treated in eating disorder specialist services. If you had told me that I would, by the time I stood up again, have a basic belief altered, I would not have believed it, but I did. My prejudice on this topic is twofold, really, or was. I have not seen non-ED specialists do well with eating disorders. But I also think most ED specialists are not doing appropriate eating disorder care. My personal solution has been to focus on getting ED specialists up to speed on the science. I had not thought, and yes I'm sorry, that going directly to non-specialists was going to work. Well, I'm now seeing a new vista of possibilities. The fact is, most ED specialists are quite set in their way of viewing the disorders and treatment. Unteaching is hard. But non-specialist mental health providers have a lot going for them: larger practices and therefore experience, more resources, and a broader sense of mental health care. Modern mental health care, especially for children and adolescents, assumes family involvement. Modern mental health care is increasingly integrated with larger psychiatric and medical and community resources. Eating disorder care is often in small, roped off, closely guarded practices surrounding a visionary leader or philosophy or diagnosis rather than the larger picture of overall mental wellness. 

The fact is, if eating disorder patients were assumed to need full nourishment, family support, to have a condition that is not their or their family's fault, and that their care should be aimed at both full recovery and healthy family functioning then would we really need to have them in specialist clinics? 

The problem isn't just that patients are not getting ED care it is that they are not getting good ED care in the community. So, I sat down believing that non-ED-specialists shouldn't be treating EDs and stood up thinking that what we may need to do is get ED patients into the care that is readily and more widely available and already has most of the principles of care in place and needs only to be trained in the particularities of these particular mental illnesses. Suddenly the possibilities for treatment expand a great deal (not enough, or nearly enough, because mental health services are "thin" on the ground all over the world, but certainly far, far more than just ED specialists).

So that was my Big Moment of that day. Better than the meerkats. And that's saying something.

FOUR different ways.
I ended my evening over dinner and then Golden Gaytime ice cream bars with my friend Cate Sangster's three darling daughters. They did somersaults and handstands, literally, for me. The girls put on the friendship bracelets my son chose for them: friendships symbolically tied across the seas. Should he end up marrying any of them we'll consider this the first act of courtship.We all experienced our first Custard Apple and declared it unripe and/or unpalatable, but I was beyond tickled to have that "first" with them. Apparently my face when offered Four Different Ways to Have a Gay Time was memorable to their mother.  Thank you, Cate, for an unforgettable evening. Also, for explaining Australian rules football. And no, I still don't get it.

By my fifth night in Australia I was no longer making people laugh by trying to get in on the wrong side of the car. I was still alarming them by stepping into the wrong side of he road. Belinda ferried me over to my next accommodation: the venue hotel Bell City. Fantastic sparkly view of the city. On the way we stopped at the Butterfly Foundation offices to help stuff the delegate bags with goodies and brochures.

OK, so when I travel I have this extraordinary opportunity to meet people with whom I have had, often for many years or many years ago, significant relationships or connections. The F.E.A.S.T. dinner, held at a restaurant training school, was one of those experiences. I catch the eye of someone who is unfamiliar to me by sight, and often me to them, but then when introduced we both "recognize" the other. There's a rush and tumble to explain, then total recognition. THIS is Bronwen, HERE is Claire, YOU are Alison, is THIS really Martine? But it is much more than names and contacts. It's recognition. It is having an honored place in someone else's life, some email on a significant day, some way one of us helped the other, a shared joke, a shared friend, a revelation or moment of vulnerability. I am nourished by these moments. I doubt my "real" friends in my "real" life can possibly understand why meeting a "total stranger" could be so meaningful and so deeply important but it is. These moments are why people like me do what people like me do, quietly at keyboards, without asking for a response, without requiring an update. It is those moments when you lock eyes with someone with whom you have shared important connection even if only for a short while or at a great distance or simply by introducing another person or idea then forgotten. These moments are why we "pay it forward" as fellow advocates. For each of us there are countless such moments out there that, if you are as lucky as I am, you get to have. This trip had several for me. You know who you are.

I don't really remember the food that night. I do remember meeting people who made me feel I'd come home because we knew one another already. Also, Cate brought the dreaded and much discussed new Vegemite chocolate for me: a gift or a punishment I'm not sure. Which I shared. Dear Claire was the first and bravest among us. Others had to be coached through it, which THIS crowd knew a thing or two about doing!

Sleep. Have I ever enjoyed sleep so much as during and after this trip?

Thursday: Belinda and I gave a workshop for clinicians first thing in the morning if only because the dear woman had two MORE presentations to give later. Sleep? I don't think so. It went well, I think. I enjoy presentations to professionals. Every single clinician has the opportunity to change the course of many, many lives. With good information they can save patients and families. Almost all are eager to add to their knowledge and skills. They ask important questions. They add important observations for their colleagues. Especially happy that Nicki Wilson and Rod McClymont were there to amplify and exemplify the principles both Belinda and I have learned and were there to share.

Saw the other conference keynote, Carolyn Costin, in passing. She and I have a longtime conversation going on how our different points of view about ED and treatment intersect and how they are incongruent. She set me the challenge of taking notes on that for us to discuss after the events, which I did. Most people in the ED field, and most fields I'm sure, don't actually listen to or try to understand conflicting or contrasting views. Carolyn does, and I like to think I do. Wish more would. It's easy to rant to your fans, harder to have a respectful discussion with others, but really: where does progress come from?

Cheered throughout, and stifled sniffles along with the Around The Dinner Table parents beside me, through a very moving workshop on refeeding in the afternoon. The audience's questions were heartbreaking, though. Too many had never, despite many treatment environments, been given basic information on the role of nutrition and methods for dealing with resistance. Too few were familiar with basic concepts of modern treatment. But that was the beauty of the moment: watching eyes open and notebooks fill. Lightbulbs were going off and courageous people on the last fumes of hope were inspired. The three INCREDIBLE parents who told their stories in the context of the background given by Belinda and her colleague and co-presenter, Michelle Robertson, put the lie to many myths about ED and about parents being powerless. Parents are POWERFUL. Good treatment that involves parents and understands the role of nourishment in eating disorders is LIFESAVING.

I used to be shy, especially in crowds. Would avoid them and sit in corners with a book or notebook observing. This reticence is not a luxury I can afford as an activist, so I've become quite the social butterfly. I can march up to folks I don't know and start a conversation with anything breathing. I couldn't do it for myself but I learned to do it for A Cause. And eating disorders treatment is a Cause I believe in. So I met a lot of people at the social that evening. Lovely people. Then enjoyed drinks and dinner afterward so much. I was like a kid out of school. A princess with her slippers on.

fans at Bondi Beach ask for autographs.
(or, probably, fish and chips)
I was asked many times to sign my books, which were available. That's fun. I love talking about Charlotte, for one thing, so my blue hair streak and blue book gives me that opportunity and on this trip I was able to hear from so many people who knew and cared about and were grateful to her. She was toasted many times. My first book was also available, reissued with a new cover and foreword, and I was tickled to hear anecdotes about that one as well. 

Best story: a mum told me she was glad about the reissue because for years she wanted to lend her original copy out but just couldn't find it. One day her daughter confessed that she had torn it up page by page! Love this! 

I didn't have either of my newer books with me, because they have nothing to do with eating disorders, but it was fun to talk about them as well. After a long time of being only an ED parent advocate I'm finally "all of me."

Friday morning: my keynote presentation for At Home With Eating Disorders. My PowerPoint will be available from the conference committee soon but since it is mostly pictures and visual puns it may not make sense. I'm working on an audio narrated version. 

The conference featured an excellent combination of information on the science of EDs and lived experience by parents and families. I was struck by the enthusiastic questioning of one panelist, a recovered patient, and some of the later comments by parents that showed how keenly they needed to see examples of fully recovered people and their families. This is a tough one in our field, and one on which I have mixed feelings. On the one hand OF COURSE we all need to see the reality of recovery. We need to normalize that and fix our sights on it. On the other hand the burden on the recovered people can be overwhelming and there is an expectation that the recovery of one person has lessons for others. Recovery CAN mean insight and inspiration. But it can also happen without insight or answers for others. I worry about recovered patients being overwhelmed, having their experiences overanalyzed, and there is a risk that patients feel pressured to have answers. In my opinion the best thing that recovered people can do is get on with their normal lives, and their normality be the goal. They don't need to be heroes to be OUR HEROES. In this case the young woman who talked about her experiences with recovery was everything anyone could hope for: healthy and comfortable in her well-being, realistic about the struggle, positive about her family's involvement, engaged in a life that doesn't involve having an eating disorder. While the other panelists were fascinating and insightful this young lady captured the hopes and fascination of the parents -- especially parents who were searching for hope for their own still quite ill loved ones.

So, my bit done, I was free to enjoy the rest of the presentations and workshops, which I really did. I know most speakers come and do their bit and then leave, or go sightsee. I am really such a geek: I want to get the entire experience and I want to meet as many people as I can. I learn so much, even after a decade of attending ED events. If not about the science or techniques I still learn by listening to the questions and by watching how familiar speakers evolve over time, and of course to learn how to better do the job of advocate and public speaker.

At Home With Eating Disorders was rich with topics, with a real emphasis on the usable, practical, and science-based. This was the kind of event that will change parent's options and actions starting that day, not a lot of theoretical overview. There was some of the latter but I really felt the parents there -- and many were just starting or just starting over -- got true help and guidance from the podium and genuine friendships from their fellow delegates (attendees, for us USians).

I won't describe the specifics, but will recommend that you check out the PowerPoints and videos when available online. One thing about the parent community is we are all about sharing as much information as possible at lowest or no cost. This has been basic to F.E.A.S.T.'s ethos and this, the second AHWED conference, was a shining example.

A quick word on New Zealanders: there was a nice contingent there for the event, which made me glad. I'm largely tone deaf on the difference between Australian and New Zealand English, but I've improved, aided by the fact that they themselves often trade exaggerated examples of one another's ees and eyes. The banter is light-hearted but helpful to me in keeping track. I find that if I simply fix on one person's speech patterns as my example it helps. My favorite example for New Zealand is Nicki Wilson of ANZAED. Except she has the most lovely voice and manner and although I know she is unique (and someone I deeply admire) this regard gets extended to all those who are from New Zealand! Nicki and her daughter, Emma, gave a beautiful presentation near the end of the events that did me in, really. The two of them remind me so much of me and my daughter and they warm my heart.

The AHWED conference was a real success. Parents were welcomed, informed, empowered, and surrounded by new friends. Really. I'm not just being nice. I overheard many conversations about proposing projects and research and get-togethers. It was a dynamic event: part of an evolving ED parent community and joining the collaborative nature of ED advocacy. I am genuinely impressed, and left knowing that Australia and New Zealand have some important ideas and successes that the rest of the world can benefit and learn from. I'd like to see many things that are going on in both countries spread to others, as well as more widely inside those countries. I was refreshed and energized by the experience and really admiring of what is happening, and rapidly, in both countries.

My trip coincided with Australia's Reconciliation Week, and my friend Robyn sent me a gorgeous bit of music to share in the experience, Wiyathul, by Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu.

For the last few days of my time in Australia my dear friend and host, Dr. Rod McClymont, got me out of the urban and into the landscape of New South Wales. Zounds. Although I also got two sweeping tours of Sydney, it was my time with his family up toward Bathurst that made me feel I was truly upside down and around the world. And what a tour! We Americans think an hour or two of car travel requires provisions and a heating pad. Not these Australians.

It was largely a matter of going up high to look down, and higher to look across, and down low to look up, sometimes involving lots of stairs. I have taken in epic sights all in a row, each as cool as the next. Between destinations kangaroos and wallabies and a few Lyrebirds just posed in front of the car for visual interest. on behest of some cosmic Tourist Bureau. We'd just be driving along and stop the car and walk over and Oy Vey the earth opens up and there's a postcard view and staggering experience, and no lines. It's quiet and the few human beings in sight wave. There's no trash. No tickets. Then down some switchbacks into a cave of your choice, followed by watching for the platypus. I have totally got to up my game on when my Aussie friends come to visit.

Australian children, or at least these parents' children, gambol like goats on the edge of precipices, kindly not laughing at the whimpering American lady whose vertigo was only kept in check by the casual conversation one must pursue when terrified because if she bolts into the bush she will be killed by her just that much deeper fear of snakes.

But here's the story my family keeps making me repeat:

On alighting into a cathedral-like canyon featuring an idyllic waterfall and fern-festooned walls, I took in the experience from a flat rock in the sun. It was cool, but the water colder. Being my clumsy self I should have known not to fuss with my sunglasses but I did and, crack, dropped them on the edge of the rock where they ever so slowly but too fast to catch fell into the icy pool. I made a weak cry of dismay, more for leaving debris in a pristine place than the loss of my sunnies, on which the 14-year old in our midst dove onto the rock and plunged, soaking to the shoulder and with half his face immersed, worked a few moments until he quietly retrieved my now far more precious possession. Astonished, I declared Felix my hero, to which he replied standing in the cold air wringing his shirt and jumper (sweater to us Yanks), that it was "no worse than a rugby game."

This, my friends, is Australian youth.

I think the kids, really -- and I met quite a few of my friends' kids -- were the finest part of my travels. I'm grateful to all those who paid for and organized and chauffeured and promoted the conference and all the other events around it but I'm particularly touched and grateful for the opportunity to meet so many of their children: young and adult, ED affected and not (one clever girl answered the inevitable looks of inquiry with "I'm the OTHER one"). When you spend time away from home at conferences you get to know folks pretty well and sometimes even meet their partners but so rarely their lovely, deliciously real children.

Better than wombats, which everyone told me have square poop (they do!), which I didn't see. Better than the Jenolan Caves platypus who is waiting until my next visit. To all the kids, my home is yours. No kangaroos or wombats and I'm no Marge Simpson but I'm sure I can find some very American experiences for you to carry home. I owe you that.

I owe a lot of you a lot. Thank you.

June 12, 2015

May 20, 2015

Today I think... I'll fly to Australia

Today, just for kicks, I think I'll pack my bags and go to Australia.

That's assuming I can close this suitcase over two weeks of lady clothes. (As usual it's the shoes that cause all the trouble. My husband has this weird efficient method where he puts the small bits in the shoes and folds lady-tops unto themselves but once I'm out of his view I just stuff everything in and sit on it)

Today I will pretend that this is a spontaneous jaunt and not something planned and planned and arranged and taking up the energies and resources and time and generosity of many people. Because if I think of all that I will be overwhelmed. And then it will be even less understandable when I have forgotten to bring at least three essential items.

Today I will find a way, no matter how much it may cost my data plan, to tweet from Abu Dhabi. Because I can. Because even though it is only a change of planes it COUNTS because I have a window seat.

Today I will catch up on Fresh Air podcasts and about 30 episodes of How Stuff Works. I will read from any of the dozen books on my Kindle account. I will watch fun movies. I will ponder and muse and reflect. I will meet strangers. I will dine. I will wash zero dishes and vacuum exactly nothing. And if I snore or drool in my sleep I'll never see my seat mates again so, it never happened.

Today I will take 26 hours on planes to arrive two days later in a place where my feet face the wrong way BUT I will be standing on a beach, so, gravity is awesome.

Today I will test the limits of what someone with a torn lumbar disk should reasonably do, not to mention what someone who can't sleep on planes can bear, and arrive human enough to wake up the next morning and deliver a coherent keynote address to lovely friends in Perth. Note I have not put a question mark on that last sentence.

In the next two weeks I will deliver two speeches, three workshops, sit on one panel, visit three hospitals, plus some clinics, meet lots of F.E.A.S.T. members and colleagues and friends, and visit three Australian states. Am I ready?

Today I leave with the words of the great Tina Fey on my mind: "The show doesn't go on because it's ready; it goes on because it's 11:30. It will never be perfect, but perfect is overrated."

May 14, 2015

Nine Truths: Historic Collaboration

It's historic. Thirteen eating disorders organizations agreed on nine basic facts about eating disorders. Not two organizations and one fact. Not rainbow unicorn facts, either, but real central principles. And: they did it in weeks, not months or years of negotiation. They decided to do it and they did. All the organizations came together and published a set of nine facts about eating disorders.



I am very proud of the field, of the specific leaders who made this happen, and especially of F.E.A.S.T. for being at that table and part of the collaboration. This is the kind of movement forward that the eating disorders field needs.

As I said to colleagues in the field yesterday none of these facts should be controversial within the field, but they do represent very important messages to the public and to policy-makers and to families.

I know that some of the ideas on the list will not please all eating disorder advocates and treatment providers. That's unfortunate but also necessary. It is time to find and normalize some basic concepts. When a family seeks care for a loved one they deserve to see these nine facts reflected in the treatment they receive. Those looking to enter the field should be able to see these ideas reflected in their training. Policy-makers, too, should know that these facts are agreed upon by major eating disorder organizations and represent the cutting edge of thinking.

Until this statement I do not believe there has been a single message shared across all of those organizations. Now we have nine. It's a good day. A really good day.

May 9, 2015

Now, a chance to win a free copy of The Auldton Laughing Club

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Auldton Laughing Club by Laura Collins Lyster-Mensh

The Auldton Laughing Club

by Laura Collins Lyster-Mensh

Giveaway ends May 14, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
Enter to Win

May 8, 2015

May 7, 2015

Australia, here I come! What is Australian for "chuffed?"

I called five airlines today. This is weird for more than one reason. One: I was a travel agent in an earlier life so calling airlines used to be my jam. The hold music hasn't changed, I'm sorry to say.

Some day ask me about the time I met, and dated, a Chippendale bouncer, by calling for reservations...***

But this time I was calling four airlines that will LITERALLY be bringing me around the GLOBE (Washington, D.C.-Abu Dhabi-Perth-Melbourne, Sydney, Los Angeles-DC). After which I will probably sleep for a month and be speed-dialing my physical therapist.

I am beyond beyond excited to be scheduled to give a Keynote presentation at the 2nd At Home With Eating Disorders Conference in Melbourne later this month. The title of my talk will be "From Fear to Fierce" which pretty much sums up my approach to empowering parents. Fear is normal, but crippling. It is in finding our courage that we do what needs to be done.

Along the way I'm going to speak in Perth, and visit Sydney as well. I get to meet many Australian friends of long standing, people I have admired from so far and others that have been in my kitchen. I get to meet folks' kids, and spouses. I'll visit clinics. I'll drink really good coffee. Although I want to see Australian animals very much I have to say that yesterday I learned I get to see some meerkats up close and I'm chuffed! Wait, that's English. What's Australian for "chuffed?"

I'm going to have a lot of people to thank when I get back, but I'll start with the lovely volunteers who are putting on this conference for families. This is a rare and wonderful opportunity for Australian families to gather, learn, share, and feel heard. I'm so proud of F.E.A.S.T. for this collaboration and so honored to be invited.

Looking forward to being with old friends and meeting new ones. Also: meeting old friends!

*** This is true, by the way, but I'm really just checking to see people really read this!

May 5, 2015

Honor the line

It has taken me almost 18 years to completely come to terms with my experience with infertility. Secondary infertility, actually, which has its own cruel flavor.

The tree that we planted over our first lost baby recently wilted and died. It had survived for years after being transplanted from the old house but not the last harsh winter. Its loss was not an insult to injury, or a tragedy, while still being significant. The anniversary of the date has gone back to just being Halloween, not a holiday I resented and then embraced for its personal significance. I can talk about the topic without making a mess of myself, for a long time now, but also don't feel a deep need to do so.

Infertility, for me, has been reabsorbed and accepted. But it took a long, largely invisible, time. I am a different woman for it.

I describe the experience in Specific Scent of Snakes, but realize that many people in my life won't know the story at all. We do pregnancy loss and infertility with a little bit of embarrassment in our society where HOPE and the magic of science bid us to silence if we're not busy being warriors about it.

I describe in the book something that women rarely share: the decision not to keep escalating the war against our errant bodies with more and more tech. Each family has a point at which they will stop, but we prefer the stories of extremes. We almost treat it as a failure of hope, a sign of not caring enough, not to keep escalating. That there are services and soothsayers to keep us going is a given, so the line is ours to make.

I wanted to honor the line, different for each of us. It doesn't have to be at any particular point, but it is unique to each couple, each member of the couple. We found our line where it was right for us. We drew it together, for which I am grateful and a bit awed, because it strains against the bonds more used to hope and hard work than acceptance.

How far is too far? When is it too soon? And how can we honor those choices?

Mothers needed for research study: Maternal eating and adolescent brain development

Mothers, please consider participating in this study:

Maternal eating and adolescent brain development

May 4, 2015

Make this a five star day!

I'm asking you for a personal favor. Go review three books today. I'd love for one or two to be mine, of course, but really just do it for the last few books you've read. You have enormous power, for free and at leisure, to make books live or languish.

It doesn't have to be long: a line or two is fine. How did a book make you feel? What would you want the author, or potential readers, to know?

Your opinion is something that is craved and feared.  If you want writers to write, buy their books and also review them.

(also, write to the authors, we love it! and most write back!)

I have two new books out and I look forward to your reviews.

The Specific Scent of Snakes


The Auldton Laughing Club

Not an Amazon person? Join or

May 2, 2015

Why fake news about eating disorders is hard to tell from real news

The headlines about eating disorders are usually shrill and often just plain wrong. So, when I got this one in my news feed I was dismayed but not shocked:

I wasn't shocked because MOST stories about eating disorders are similar. Someone describes a reason they became anorexic or bulimic or developed binge eating disorder. They describe their extreme symptoms and tell us why they did it.

There is an active debate in the eating disorders community about listening to patients. Patients want to be heard, and that is absolutely necessary and compassionate. We want to listen. That is a human right. Listening to people and hearing their views and opinions is always the right thing to do.

But with mental illness is listening the same as understanding?

When someone says they stopped eating because X: what do these "reasons" mean? Are they necessarily the reason because that person believes it is so?

Is it "silencing" to say things about ED causation that conflict with an individual's own perception? Is it invalidating to disagree with a certain view of causation because the sufferers themselves hold it?

I would say that it is when you're talking about and with an individual person, but not when it is an open public conversation, and that's sticky. Many patients put themselves into the public eye to help others, but then they become part of a larger conversation that is no longer one on one and no longer about them as a person.

At ICED there was an active, and un-pretty, discussion of what the voice of the patient with a BMI of 11 means. Some believe the "anorexic voice," for example, is an expression of real and lasting meaning for the person. Others think that voice is a symptom of a predisposed brain responding to negative energy balance (too little food for needs). Most people fall somewhere between those. It is an important difference of thinking.

As parents the LAST thing we want to do is invalidate or dismiss our loved ones. We love them. We are doing all we can to get them back the life they deserve that ED is trying to steal. We are working to get their real and lasting voice back.

So when we hear talk of "what these symptoms mean to the patient" and "meeting the patient where they are" it can be really frustrating and even infuriating. When we read articles about patients reporting that a negative comment, or Size 0 mannequins, or wanting to disappear made them mentally ill we are dismayed and we often DO want to step forward to say something about the genetic predisposition and what we know about the biology of these conditions. I would feel the same if that story about Steve Jobs' advice was really why someone thought they were mentally ill.

We want to reassure all parents that they didn't cause it, reassure all patients that THEY didn't choose it, and we want to point to good science as an antidote to myths. We want to help the readers of such articles and buyers of such treatments know that there are alternatives -- not to shut people down or invalidate them, but to prevent harm to others down the line.

The hard truth is that most treatment, prevention, advocacy, legal limits, insurance limits, and public perception rests on believing the ED voice is the true voice of the patient and what drives the illness. I believe that has led to a lot of harm and it needs to be questioned. I do not mean to insult or invalidate anyone, but not to question this issue is to let down the coming generations of sufferers and their families.

We no longer see the voice of schizophrenia, or dementia, or epilepsy, or tuberculosis, as telling us deep things about the sufferer. We understand their distress and anguish for what they are and we work to help them regain their unique and true and lasting beliefs and desires.

Off-handed advice from Steve Jobs doesn't cause mental illness. Neither, as far as I know, do most of the other reasons people report they developed an eating disorder. If we want to help new patients and their families we are going to have to say some things that contradict what patients say. Politely, and with respect for their experience, but not necessarily understanding it the way they do.

Ungrounded ideas about mental illness cause harm. Balancing that with respecting the individual patient experience is hard. It is tragic when those two interests clash, but that is yet another trap that ED sets for us all.

April 30, 2015

The advocacy of the unsaid

I love Miss Manners. One of my favorite columns involved how to respond to a racist or sexist or other offensive joke offered in a polite gathering. Miss Manners recommends silence and puzzlement. As in "I'm waiting for the joke." As in "It's not my job to get you out of this."

It doesn't require outrage, or explanation. It requires not going along to get along and not taking the other person off the hook.

I was reminded recently of how often I am called on to review a manuscript, or pass on information, or answer an interview question where I have to take that stance. You will never see mention of my name in these articles or acknowledgement in the book. You will not hear me quoted or see a link. But my voice DOES have power anyway when I refuse to go along with the joke, or the message, or the opportunity even to promote my own work. Not uncommonly the times I seem silent are the times of my proudest advocacy.

You may see it without knowing when a researcher changes the text on a study because someone like me says it is phrased in a way that is off-base. You may see it in a book that is very different than the manuscript. I'm proud of the way articles have been reframed to avoid sticky issues that I pointed out, even at the cost of not getting my name or organization in the credits. You may even see it in the people who avoid me like the plague for having made them uncomfortable.

Some of advocacy has to do with what we WON'T say, and won't get quoted for. It's still important, and it's worth it. Use your voice, and your silence: it works!

April 29, 2015

Why attending eating disorder events matters: Hope

There are many, many reasons for attending conferences and events like the ICED in Boston last week. But THIS ONE made me cry.

This mother found hope by meeting fully recovered people. Robustly, happily, perfectly normal recovered people. People choosing meals with ease and enjoying them with others. People popping candies into their mouths without rules. People for whom the severity and chronicity of the disorder is not the determiner of the normality of their lives now.

It saddens me that this is not the inspiration that we see and share. What we are more likely to see, because of the nature of media sensationalism and stigma of mental illness, are examples of "lowest weight" and lists of symptoms and how ravaged people's lives can be.

We don't see the heroism, and hope, of normal. Even a lot of clinicians and experts don't see much in the way of fully recovered people and fully healed families. These examples aren't in treatment and they don't get into the media. These examples aren't necessarily writing books or evangelically charging out to change the world.

The hope of normal should not be fairy-like or rare. The hope of normal should be handed out like, well, chocolates. My wish for all parents and friends and community members is to look at eating disorder recovery as the most spectacularly boring thing -- something those of us in the ED world see over and over and want to share with the world -- normal life.

April 27, 2015

"That is not what is being said:" Difficult Dialogues in Public

Maybe you had to be there, but what happened at the last session of the Academy for Eating Disorders conference in Boston was a case study in "difficult dialogues." (a topic that I was proud to also explore in a workshop the day before with two past and one current AED president)

Not only was it clear in that final session that the people in the room had very different conceptions of eating disorders, but it has become clear to me since then that those in the room had different perceptions of what happened in the room.

Whatever happened in there was a big deal, but I'm not sure now what it was.

I thought, at the time, that we were all talking about the same things and having a healthy and too long delayed conversation about differences in what we think eating disorders ARE.

Since then I've heard others describe it as a moment when people who misunderstood what was being said spoke up in a strong way.

Still others have said that there wasn't much disagreement, just a lot of emotion.

What I think we'd all agree is that much of what went on in the room had more to do with what was brought in from past interactions than anything ignited in the room. The baggage lugged in, if fully visible, might have taken up more room that the people.

A phrase that was repeated at least four times (it was notable) was "that is not what is being said."

And really, that's the most important thing about the session. Telling people that they don't understand  can be more than one message. It can be "I have not communicated this well enough" or it can be "You lack the capacity to understand me." It can also be that the speaker  has been repeating the same thing so often without understanding its implications that the voices speaking back to it sound more and more shrill but in fact represent a valid alternate point of view.

"That's not what is being said" could be offered as a sincere start to a clarifying conversation or it can be a condescending way of shutting someone down. It can be the beginning of conversation or a way of saying "you don't belong here."

What I can say is that I've heard it before. There are plenty of times when I have misunderstood what I was hearing and needed more background. But, plenty of other occasions where I absolutely DID understand but my response was being misunderstood.

I'm sure during the coming days and weeks I'll hear many perspectives and gain a fuller knowledge of people's perspectives. I'll be listening. I hope others will, too.

April 21, 2015

Ten Reasons You Are Going To Want to Read the New F.E.A.S.T. Nutrition Booklet

Ten reasons to love the new Nutrition Booklet for parents just published by F.E.A.S.T.:
10. The title is very clever*
9. Finally, parents have an authoritative, concise, hand to your doctor or skeptical others, source that explains why "food is medicine"
8. Binge eating disorder, bulimia nervosa, anorexia nervosa: all included
7. Beautifully designed and produced by Leah Dean
6. Stellar team of clinicians are co-authors, headed by Dr. Debra K. Katzmann
5. It's green
4. It's free
3. Boys and girls reflected, as in all F.E.A.S.T. materials
1. It's designed for parents to use and share

*yes, that was my idea! sue me!

April 20, 2015

missing my flat whites already!

As I pack for the AED conference (why don't I just get all my clothes in a single color in multiples and simplify? why do I feel the need for so many changes of shoes?) I realize that I will not get my daily Flat White delivered to my desk by hubby in the afternoon.

The coffee is fantastic, but the titles are almost as delicious:

a rubber duck leaving a wake

Darth Vader's head as seen by Dali

quarter moon catching a fly on its tongue
He's a genius!