If an employee saves two hours driving to work, they might even put in an extra hour for the company - and still gain an hour of free time. I propose a new mandatory course for all university students. Every student in the class is squeezed into the smallest wardrobe possible and they have to stand there for forty-five minutes without making eye contact with anyone. If you make eye contact, you fail. Then they are asked to move into an even smaller wardrobe - in which they won't all fit. If you don't make it into the second wardrobe, you fail the course. I call it Commuting 101'. <a href='https://forms.bl.uk/newsletters/index.aspx?back=http://moreindepth.co.uk'>I'm</a> not sure how long Jean-Paul Sartre's commute was, but it might have been where he first came up with the phraseHell is other people.' Granted, some commuters do get some pleasure and value out of their commute: they read, listen to music or simply digest the day. However, for many, the daily commute is a drag, and we find it frustrating because it makes us feel like we don't have any control. You are trapped on the bus, or in the train, or in the car. Instead of seeking approval, giving too much of it communicates the same negative energy of, "I want you to like me so I'm going to over communicate how much I like you." It has the same negative effect and causes people to think something's off with you. Not being too impressed isn't a negative trait. It doesn't mean you're being a cocky asshole. It doesn't mean you don't like them. It doesn't mean you think you're better than them. It means you're not giving away your positioning. You're not being too easy to read. You're not being too transparent. You're not letting anyone know exactly what you think. When someone has you completely figured out, they hold all of the power and you're powerless.

You gave it away when gave all of your approval. It comes back to respect and boundaries. When someone knows exactly how much you like them, they, unconsciously, stick you in their back pocket and think, "I own this person. I can have whatever I want from this person. I can have my way with this person." This leads to less respect for you and your boundaries. It leads to cockiness and thinking they can do whatever and whenever they want. This puts you in a powerless position. With great leaders, if one of their favorite people blows them away by doing an amazing job, they don't give away power and authority by getting their panties wet and worshipping them. They give them the appropriate amount of praise and move on. The same goes with being disappointed. When you're too disappointed - angry, upset, crying, yelling, and acting tyrannical - you're communicating weakness. You're communicating, "You have power over me. You own me. You have the power to steal my happiness and make me lose control of myself." Keep your power by always remaining calm. Tom was years into and dependent on a mind-numbing and physically addictive substance before he came for care. I wonder what might have been different had his school, his family, and his community been able to foster early on a secure sense of attachment and the inner capacity to stand on his own while still being fully connected to those he loved. His set, or underlying psychic nature or personality, had been shaped by trauma and adversity and was built on dependent, not independent, attachments. Maybe, I thought back then, he could achieve the independence he needed to successfully leave his family (and his addiction) and become his own man. But I know now that his community, his context or setting, was such that drinking was normative and exit to a different life, apart, was improbable. The last time I saw Tom, he was drinking again.

He told me he had begun a medication for his heart, for an arrhythmia, or irregular heartbeat, that he had developed. He said, "The family doctor who came to the reservation said my heart had problems from the drinking. He said my heart muscle had gone kind of soft. I'm going to get sober again. I can do it." After my two years of service, in 1974 I left Aroostook County to resume my residency. I had a bad sense about what would befall Tom. As that list grew larger and larger, I began feeling as though I bore the weight of the world on my shoulders. Avoidance and anxiety ruled the roost, and while my "to-do" list might have contained only a few complicated tasks, the majority of it was comprised of less important tasks. In my haste to avoid feeling overwhelmed by the tasks that I wanted to avoid, I wound up avoiding the entire list--so nothing that needed "do"-ing ever got done. My "to-do" list seemed almost larger than life, and every time I reminded myself that I should deal with something on it, all I could think about were all the times I'd turned away from it. It seemed that for every time I had accomplished something on my "to-do" list, there had been a hundred times when I had picked it up, looked it over, put it down again, and walked away from it. As that list came to control my life, in turn, it left me feeling less and less capable. As time passed, my "to-do" list became a "things I hadn't done" list. That list didn't exist exclusively on paper, because I constantly carried it around in my mind, which made me feel bogged down. Every time I thought of it, it reminded me of just how ineffective I was, which caused me to think poorly about myself. Sometimes in frustration, I would tear up an old list and start a new one, but this only provided temporary relief. In short, I was fit to be tied, frustrated, down on myself, and felt unable to tackle just about anything. As children grow older, these early attachment styles can play an important role in their later emotional and social development, not to mention the kind of mental health problems that they can develop as they become adults. For example, research studies have shown that adults with a history of insecure attachments are much more prone to developing depression than secure individuals. They are also much more prone to relationship problems, have lower self-esteem, sleep problems, are more prone to serious health problems, and have greater difficulty managing emotions.

Most of the treatment programs for helping with attachment issues as well as mental health problems have been developed for adolescents in particular. Such programs focus on helping adolescents overcome problems of early childhood and develop into successful adults. For adults dealing with long-term attachment problems along with depression or other mental health problems, treatment is usually much more intensive than for adolescents and can take much longer as a result. There are few research studies looking into how successful adult treatment can be. All that can really be said is that the impact of early childhood attachment problems can last a lifetime in many cases. This is why it is essential for adolescents dealing with relationship problems to get proper counseling as soon as possible. The idea that the car is the ultimate symbol of freedom is quintessentially American, but car advertisements the world over promise that you will be driving on meandering roads by the coast, surrounded by nature, with no other car in sight. In reality, we are more likely to be surrounded by traffic congestion and inching our way through rush hour while horns play a symphony of anger and frustration. That feels a long way from freedom. The car has become a ball and chain - it seems only to take us further away from happiness. To make matters worse, for many, commuting to work is the worst part of the day. At least, that is what is suggested by some studies, in which people have been asked to rate different activities. Daniel Kahneman, a Nobel Prize-winning psychologist, conducted a study using the Daily Report Method, whereby respondents detail everything they did the day before - what they did and at what time, who they were with, and how they felt during each activity. In it, 909 American women rated their morning commute as the worst time of the day. Then came work - and then came the commute home. Unfortunately, we spend a substantial part of our lives commuting. There is a lot of variation, obviously. According to a study by the OECD, people in South Africa and South Korea spend roughly twice as much time commuting per day as people in Ireland and Denmark. However, the longest commute is said to be in Bangkok, where people spend an average of two hours each day on their way to and from work. Speaking of losing power, there's no better way to give all of your power away and communicate, "I am weak and not strong, smart, or mature enough to deal with a little hardship" than whining, complaining, and bitching about what you don't like or what makes you uncomfortable.

Celebrities, CEO's, athletes, news networks, and millions and millions of people in the U.S. sobbing, crying, whining, bitching, complaining, and acting personally-victimized didn't change the outcome of the Clinton/Trump election, did it? It only did the opposite. So, in essence, complaining was, and still is, a waste of time. As an aircraft mechanic, I often had to work in holes that were dark, hot (104 degrees Fahrenheit), the size of a coffin or smaller, spiders 6 inch away from my face, at a 45 - 65 degree decline with my head at the lower end, sweat pouring into my eyes, laying on metal ribs that felt amazing jamming into my ribcage and leaving bruises and, sometimes, fracturing ribs, with no fans, ventilation, or air-conditioning. Freaking out, whining, bitching, crying and complaining couldn't get the repair done. I couldn't let micro-emotions and mental chatter distract me. I often listened to music on my phone, sang, or just turned my brain completely off until the job was done. The key was to remain completely calm, cool, collect, and confident because if I got negative, started complaining, and freaked out, my body would swell and I would get stuck in there and die. Some years later I revisited northern Maine, at that glorious time in early July when all the potato fields are in blossom, looking like endless white and pink blankets warming the earth as they stretch to the blue horizon. I went to see my friends at the mental health center. They told me about Tom. He had died about a year after I left of a fatal arrhythmia caused by myocarditis, a cardiac complication of alcoholism. One day when drinking, he dropped to the ground, dead, while walking around the reservation. Tom's story comes back to me now as I write this book. He was my first extended and profound immersion into substance use, abuse, and disorder. To set and setting. To secure and insecure attachments. To trauma too, namely for Tom's losing his mother at age ten. Back then, there was AA, but not for Native Americans.