Everyone is different when it comes to their addictions.

There was one woman who needed surgery.

Se was in her 80's when he went to see a colleague of mine for an unrelated ailment. She had been beaten and cut by her husband for years. To deal with it, she took up drinking. She took it up so well, that she forgot about the abuse but became physically ill. She finally succumbed to the alcohol and had to go in for surgery for her gall bladder.

"They told me my liver was so soft, they almost couldn't do the surgery at all. So, I said to myself, 'Barbara Ann [name changed], you may not be very smart, but you ain't dumb enough to drink yourself to death neither.' So I just quit."

That was in 1981. She's been sober since.

Fear, as they say, can be a great motivator.

A wonderful website for anyone with kids (of any age).

http://www.radicalparenting.com/2010/09/05/separation-school-and-verbal-first-aid-for-children/

Once in awhile a really good book comes along, a book that is clearly written and that has a message of real value.  Once in a much greater while a book like Verbal First Aid comes out, a book that has the potential to change a generation.  Verbal First Aid presents the concept of a nurturing approach to empowering the developing mind that every caring parent can use from conception to maturity.   This book should be required reading in every medical and psychological school, as well as being a prerequisite for parenting…

Edwin K. Yager, Ph.D., Clinical Professor of Psychiatry, UCSD School of Medicine and author of Foundations of Clinical Hypnosis.

Almost as an exclamation point, I got the most extraordinary response from yet another really savvy Huffington Post reader. I have been granted permission to share it with you all and hope you see the value in it I did.

The Power of Speech
When someone is confident in themselves and has strong self worth they usually do not feel the urge to be nervous and speak fast, as they are used to others paying attention and respecting their ideas, thoughts and words. Something to think about. Are you a fast or slow talker…and how did your parents treat you when you were speaking? Were they attentive and patient and digest your ideas and words before replying? Or were they dismissive and disrespectful and talk over you and barely listen to you? There's your answer.
I have another article from 2002 that addresses the issue of "Speed Talking" and how ineffective it really is.
Sorry for the fractured posts, but I have no other options thanks to the new "Twitter" like posting limits.This is one of the other articles that I found extremely pertinent to my concerns about speech patterns, and how important they are. This came from "The Total Communicator", a business communication publication.

Presentation Skills: Delivery Skills: Pace
Slow Down, You’re Talking Too Fast!

Fast speech is like fine print. It’s easy to ignore. Radio and television commercials sometimes rely on this. At the end of an otherwise great offer you hear an announcer running through a list of restrictions and qualifications that water down the offer. This part of the commercial is spoken so fast that you can barely understand it. More importantly, you tend to tune out.

Listeners tune out if speakers don't make listening comfortable. It's the speaker's job to make it easy and comfortable for the audience to listen.

Speed Is Not the Only Issue
In fact, speed by itself is rarely the issue. The constant speed is what causes the trouble. People who speak at a constant clip, whether slow or fast, are likely to frustrate their listeners. They not only bore us with their own special brand of monotony (sameness of speed), they undermine the natural physical aspect of speech.

Pauses Punctuate Speech
If you habitually talk fast, you need a variety of ways to punctuate your speech, and the most natural punctuation for speech is the pause you take when you reach for a breath. Writing without punctuation is ambiguous and cumbersome. Speech, without the punctuation of pauses, is unclear and hard to listen to. It makes listeners uncomfortable, not just because of the speed itself. The unrelenting stream of sound never gives us a chance to rest and ponder the movement of the speaker's thought.

Here's how to gain some verbal punctuation:

Look people in the eye when speaking. That will slow you down because you get feedback from your listener. You can see whether or not your listener understands what you're saying. That sense of connection with your target will help you pace your words so they hit the mark.

Pause between phrases. The pauses will give your listeners a chance to digest what you've said. Speech that comes from a person who is breathing deeply and regularly is easier to hear and understand. Click here to read an article on pausing.

Slowing down is a question of punctuation. Make sure you punctuate your speech by controlling and varying your pace, using focused pauses, and taking more frequent breaths. You'll not only hold the attention of your audience, you'll also deliver your points more powerfully and persuasively.

Thanks Judith!

Thank you, Deb.

In memory of Angie and Ty. We love you still. Every day.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judith-acosta-lisw-cht/leading-with-love-kid-whi_b_677393.html

“How we respond determines how they respond. And not only in that moment, but for the future.”

Dear Jude,

I remember a situation 20 years ago… After a developmental psych class, my wife took me mall shopping where I sat, waiting…watching… like guys did. A woman approached; mid-twenties, spoils of shopping in one hand; a 4-5 year old boy’s hand in the other, being pulled faster than short legs wanted, whining laced with “mommy, I’m thirsty!” Neither was very happy!

Either a perceived injustice, or my natural tendency to spend my two cents whenever possible, prodded me to approach her and say, “Looks like ya’ll had a tiring day. If you take a couple of minutes, sit on a bench, hold him and tell him you are thirsty too and you’ll be home soon where you both can get a drink. I guarantee you both will feel better. Just try it.” I smiled, turned and walked away.

Eyes wide, she never said a word. I entered a store and watched from a window, and experienced a most satisfying moment… sitting on the bench, they both were laughing.

Sometimes I fantasize that he has kids, and when they get irritated from fear or frustration, instead of getting upset with them, he calms down, sits down, and brings them down to a happier place… It’s just my fantasy.

Thanks for the thoughts!
Lawson Meadows

He has graciously allowed me to reprint it in its entirety here. His website is www. DaMoKi.com.

Dear Judith,

I want to thank you again for your articles; the domino effect is in progress…

What I liked about your article on Verbal-First-Aid, in addition to its being well thought out, logically presented, and entertaining, was its application to my area of interest: Parental influence and how it affects development in children, specifically those aspects passed through the generational cycles of behaviors and beliefs: a bow to Dorothy Nolte, kids learn what they live.

The limbic system, as you stated, performs the primordial function of protection and survival through pure reaction to stimuli. However, there are cortical “processes” which result in similar actions and behaviors learned from family interactions, not in a genetic imperative sense and not always in a survival mode, but, often enough. For example, a young child who has never been struck in anger will normally not “flinch” in a response to a raised hand; an abused child tends to engage in some degree of defensive reaction. This fear response is not only to parental threats, but also, to anyone’s, because they believe a raised hand represents the potential for punishment and abuse. As a reactive behavior seen in many animals, over time it becomes increasingly difficult to reverse. Similar patterns occur in the physical, mental, emotional, and even the spiritual areas.

I see behaviors as being comprised of skills, habits, and attitudes… the seeds of which, nourished by family interactions, grow to become the base for future interactions with their children, and within the larger context of society. Counter productive reactions to social stimuli are learned, and therefore possible to reverse, but why not avoid teaching them in the first place. As you point out so well, the way we speak to children, can be altered to avoid or buffer the deleterious effects of limbic reaction; I contend the occurrence of many negative behaviors keeping children from reaching their potentials can also be modified with the same approach.

Too often children are wrapped and insulated intellectually, emotionally, and mentally in the same cocoon of bias, fear, beliefs, and behaviors adopted by their parents and grand parents. In many cases, children eventually become hard-wired reflections rather than independent individuals. Altering this predisposition toward historical patterns of behavior is a daunting task. The education of parents is a key component, albeit difficult to achieve. Not only is there a need to overcome parental delusions of “rightness”; they must be convinced of the need to change their behavior, and the benefits of doing so for their children.

The social cost to all of us is evident, as are the intellectual and emotional costs, which are tragically exacerbated when combined with the effects of peer influence (not Judith Rich Harris’ type), media stimulation, pop culture pressure to conform or “you suck!”, the reduction of coherent family structure, and the McDonaldization of performance expectations. Many parents need help!

Maybe as you say, it all starts, “With Verbal First Aid, with our calm presence, our guidance, and our carefully chosen words …. And that's the key to safety!” Safety can, and in my view, must be defined in a wider sense. And, because I completely agree with your reference to iatrogenic health being possible, I am working on it.

I have become a fan and will be following you on Huffpost.

Sincerely,

Lawson Meadows

Thank you, Lawson. This is precisely the sort of discussion and thoughtfulness I was hoping to generate. Keep moving it forward.

PS: I said above that the dominos were falling: I spent a good part of the night reading some of your past articles, and going to the links you inserted. I finally stopped after going through Gary Sibcy, Ph.D and watching some videos by Dr. Daniel Seigel, and a couple of yours: I decided there was another level to my program which I have not fully considered like “Interpersonal Neurobiology” and “Kid Whispering”, so I am still reading, thinking, and writing.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/judith-acosta-lisw-cht/fear-and-verbal-first-aid_b_661198.html

According to experts in neurobiology, when we are afraid we are at our least intelligent. Literally. We stop thinking like grown human beings with our cortex and frontal lobes and start thinking with that small walnut of a lizard brain we call the limbic system.

The other day I had a personal experience of just how foolish fear can make a person. With all my training in psychotherapy, trauma, and crisis counseling, with all my years in the trenches seeing the very worst that humanity is capable of, with all the professional composure and philosophical peace I have made with the suffering and idiocy of the world, I still acted like an ass in a thunderstorm. One little peel of thunder and off went my adrenal glands, madly galloping away with my cerebral cortex, disappearing into the sunset, never to be thunk [sic] of again.

It’s all about a small insect…well, he wasn’t very small at all and that was where the first problem began. He was a six inch, armored tank of a whip scorpion, what locals in New Mexico call the Vinegaroon.

Baby Whip Scorpion

My husband and I were sitting outside in the morning with our teas, watching the slow trickles of last night’s rain slide from the roof into the canals and down the side of the house. It was a cooler morning than we’d had in weeks of 103 degree temperatures and we were relaxed in the western breeze.

I watched the rain and thought about a catchment system, following the water upwards to the canal when I saw him.

I nearly dropped my mug.

“SCORPION!” I thought.

I pointed. That was the only word that came out of my mouth for about 3 seconds, which is a long time when you’re trying to speak.

My husband looked where I was pointing, saw nothing (it was still early and the sun hadn’t fully risen) and kept asking “What? What?” The more he asked, the less I could speak.

I’d seen and reluctantly dispatched scorpions before. But they were less than an inch long and pale, seeming somehow less threatening. This one was on our portale, it was about 6 inches long if you don’t count the whip at the end of his thorax, it had an exoskeleton to make a Hummer jealous, and it was MOVING.

“It’s a scorpion!” I finally eeked out.

How pathetic, I thought even as I was being pathetic. A damsel in distress over a bug. But I was already in the hooks not of the bug but of my own neurobiology. My limbic system had been turned on, the adrenal glands were on red alert, and all I could think of was that damned thing could kill our little dog and do some serious damage to our bigger one. In my fear, I forgot about everything I ever said I believed in–the sanctity of all life, the intricate balance of the ecosystem, the divinity and love of God in all His creatures. And I do feel that way, now. Then, I had all the philosophical wisdom and forethought of a swamp croc.

After we both went over to look at it, my husband, being the saner of us, asked, “Are you sure it’s a scorpion? It kinda looks like that bug we found by the garage that time and it turned out to be a big nothing, remember?”

“NO! What about the dogs?”

“Well, I don’t know…what if we put him in a bucket?”

“How?”

“A shovel.”

As he went to get a shovel and a bucket, I herded the dogs inside and kept a watchful eye on what I thought was the most venomous creature I’d ever seen.

By the time Dave walked across the house, into the garage, got back out and crossed the courtyard, my fear had infected him and his limbic system had apparently kicked in. So, instead of scooping the poor fella into a bucket, he picked up a shovel and swung hard enough to crack the stucco. The bug never knew what hit him.

While knowing his death was quick and hopefully painless gave me some measure of absolution after my adrenalin crawled back to the walnut whence it came, it didn’t make me feel less stupid or remorseful when I found out that he was in fact not a scorpion at all, but a vinegaroon—a rather harmless, non-toxic night stalker that eats crickets and other unpleasant pests. So not only was he not a scorpion, not only was he not harmful to my dogs or me, he was an asset to our garden.

They say it takes 1/12,000^th of a second to go to red alert but that it takes a lot longer to think a situation through.

Stupid is fast. And, as I found once again in my life, fast is also pretty stupid.

http://nmchronicles.wordpress.com/2010/07/18/our-lady-of-the-open-road/