Revisiting NGAF

Be forewarned: if you dislike strong language (cursing), don't read this post.

It's a bad habit of mine to amplify and obsess on self-centered negative feelings such as guilt. Often, I take these feelings and blow them way out of proportion until I'm a miserable and less-than-stellar version of myself. Given that it's an emotional sore spot -- or Achilles' Heel, if you will -- I keep an eye on it.

Despite these efforts, I had been feeling in a bit of a rut recently, such that my self-directed negativity had grown in strength, automation, and persistence. That, and it was compelling; I indulged it with my attention. Not fun.

Fortunately, experience has taught me that there are a bevy of resources available to help one out of such a rut. One must often make multiple attempts with different resources before one finds the right fit -- a process I usually describe as "throwing macaroni at the wall and seeing what sticks." In my case, the macaroni that stuck recently was revisiting the Honey Badger Philosophy, i.e., How to Not Give a Fuck.

Let's break it down.

The objects of obsessive guilt (and resulting self-loathing) are usually rooted in the past, i.e., on things one has done. Given that, it's important to ask and answer a fundamental and grounding question of oneself:

Q: Is it possible to travel back in time and re-do that moment?
A: No.

Okay, then. That is a fact. That is the truth.

Here's where it gets tricky.

I would argue that it's "good" to feel guilty if you've, say, hurt someone. Guilt draws upon empathy and consideration of other people -- both of which are "good" things in and of themselves. After all, guilt is a feedback system that tells us, "I messed up when I did that. I'm going to do it differently next time. I'm going to apologize and try to make amends."

Notice, however, that nowhere in that bit of dialogue are the statements, "The fact that I did that thing means that I am completely worthless. I deserve nothing but scorn and disdain for the rest of my days. I hate myself."

Unfortunately, many of us "go" into that self-loathing inner dialogue when an emotional sore spot, such as guilt, is triggered.

{Enter NGAF Philosophy}

Not Giving a Fuck isn't license to suddenly stop feeling guilty -- no way. What it is (in this case), rather, is a reminder to "stay in" Guilty Gully and refrain from indulging the next step into Self Loathing Landing.

How?

Not Giving a Fuck reminds me that I am mostly a good person. NGAF reminds me that I am a flawed human being, and bound to make mistakes; and that when I do make mistakes, even big ones, I am allowed to continue to love and respect myself even as I feel righteously guilty and seek to make amends with the ones I've hurt.

NGAF can be applied to so many situations. I recommend taking it out for a spin.

Thanks for reading.

Love

Implausibly, crazily, I find that I'm writing this post from a coffee shop in Boulder, Colorado. It's mid-February, and chilly, but the sun is blazing away in the sky, as it does most days here. Those things aren't necessarily remarkable in and of themselves, but for a kid from upstate New York who has spent basically all his life living in the Northeast, the change of venue -- exemplified by the blissed-out scene I just described -- has been amazing. (The Northeast is awesome, by the way; but it's good for me to be doing something different.) And so, unsurprisingly, perhaps, I find myself thinking about love.

Many people have expressed brilliant things about love in literature and the arts, but for now, I'm thinking of a few things said by one person in particular: Khalil Gibran. Are you familiar with his book, The Prophet? If not, go to a book store, buy it, and read it. I'm not kidding. It contains within it so many pearls of wisdom, and so much guidance for the intrepid life traveler; it's an invaluable resource for anyone willing to consider its content. Anyway, The Prophet has chapters, as do many books, and his section entitled, "Love," is a source of inspiration right now. (I found an excerpt of it online, here, for your reference.)

The passage should be read in its entirety to be fully appreciated, but here's a choice excerpt nevertheless:

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden. 

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Naturally, those words will evoke different impressions and interpretations in each of us. The messages, however, are clear. And I want to be clear, too: as I sit here thinking about Love, I'm not only thinking about romantic love. I'm also thinking of the love we infuse into our deeds; our dreams, hopes, and goals; the words we utter; and the thoughts we think. I'm also thinking of the love we experience from the sights we see; the sounds we hear; the textures we feel; and even the very air we breathe.

Love is everywhere, both within our hearts and minds, and in the world and universe which surround us. "But wait," you might say, "I'm heartbroken and angry; I'm tired of myself, and of the pain which others inflict upon me. I'm tired of being disappointed and hurt. How can you say that love is everywhere? I don't see it. How do I find it?" 

Good question. Think on this quote by Rumi: "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it."

Think about the meaning of those incredible words for a moment. It may be one of the most powerful things you ever realize -- it certainly has been for me. Namely, the onus is on each of us to open our hearts to the love within and without. It is no one else's responsibility. The power, and the responsibility, are yours, and only you hold the keys to it.

And now think about the implication of Rumi's words in tandem with those of Khalil Gibran. Here's what I think: Love is the Driving Force of Life. Love is powerful and pure. Love utterly raises us up and utterly tears us down. It makes us feel as though we have everything, and it makes us feel as though we have nothing -- and that we are everything, are nothing. It's tempting, then, to build those barriers, those defense mechanisms, and those cynicisms against love. It's very tempting, because we don't want to get hurt. Sometimes, though, we must hurt in order that we may learn and grow. Sometimes we must hear the thing we don't want to hear, or experience the disappointment we don't want to experience, that we may learn and grow. If we follow love, and love hurts us, then it is our task to hurt, learn, and open ourselves right back up to love's re-entry into our hearts. It is only thus that we will proceed; moreover, if we follow those steps, we must trust that we will proceed intact, with ever-growing capacities for wisdom, understanding, compassion, acceptance, and forgiveness. It is thus that we will become ever more efficient conduits for Love.

Life, and everything that happens to us in it, is a gymnasium in which we train to become better conduits for Love. It's a process, replete with apparent highs, lows, setbacks, and progress. And it's all good, if we let it be as such.

Guilt

Guilt, like anger, is an experience I could discuss here in exhausting detail. I could write a freakin' dissertation on guilt, replete with footnotes and citations and agita. But since B is for both Blog and Brevity, I will do no such thing. Ahem.

As the byproduct of both the Catholic and Jewish traditions, I know a thing or two about guilt.

Okay, I'll stop now. While that was an entirely valid thing to say, it's a goofy way to kick off this post. It's Saturday, gimme a break! Okay, enough. Here goes:

To my way of thinking, guilt, like just about every human experience, is OK in and of itself. I think people often think of uncomfortable feelings like guilt as being "bad," but that just isn't so -- not intrinsically, anyway. (The labels we ascribe to experiences are incredibly powerful, and can obscure the true nature of the thing being labeled; guilt fits that bill, to be sure.) Furthermore, guilt can be an adaptive, healthy, and pro-social learning tool. If we didn't have guilt, we wouldn't have made it very far as a species, you know? After all, in a vacuum, if you do something that hurts another person and you feel guilty, the guilt is probably good, right? In that example, guilt lets you know, at a gut, instinctive level, that you've inflicted harm on another person, and should probably 1) make amends, and 2) do something different the next time you're in that situation, i.e.., learn from your misstep.

Like anything taken out of Moderation Station and into the Fiefdom of Extremes, though, too much guilt can be very harmful. We all know someone -- maybe even ourselves! -- who feels guilty about everything, down to the very fact they exist, it seems. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, follow the proverbial breadcrumb trail of constant apologies and you'll have arrived at your destination.)

Guilt as a habit, then, is not helpful. It's distracting, it obfuscates the point of the matter at hand, and it destroys one's self-confidence. Constantly apologizing for basically everything is also a rather self-absorbed practice, ironically. Think about it: when you apologize to someone, you probably do so with some expectation of a response, such as, "hey, no big deal -- don't worry about it." Apologizing when no apology is called for, then, basically amounts to nothing more than a cry for attention and validation (which, un-coincidentally, is a common by-product of low self-esteem). The ironic part is that apologies are generally seen as the mark of a considerate person -- so you can see how this is an especially tricky habit to unpack, yeah? It basically amounts to just a whole lot of pain wearing the mask of a sweet little lamb.

Let's take the mask off.

You might say, "This sucks, dude, and you're being kind of a jerk about it, but I'm willing to stick with it for now. So...what's the antidote? If I have low self-esteem, I can't just wave a magic wand and suddenly have confidence, right?" Well, right...sort of. In my experience, this is where it's helpful to recall there is a direct relationship between our feelings/perceptions and our overt behaviors. And sometimes we have to change our behaviors first before our feelings follow suit. In other words, I have found -- in myself and in others -- that making small shifts in behaviors, such as cutting down on apologizing, has greatly facilitated the expansion of my confidence.

Let's bring it back to guilt. If you're plagued by guilt, and you've identified it as something that's interfering with your happiness, well-being, and ability to move on with your life, try the following:

Step 1: Take an hour or two out of a random day in which you interact with other people. Take note -- without judgment -- of your apologies. Ask yourself, "Did I really need to apologize? Did I really offend the other person?" (Hint: The answers to those questions will almost always be "no." )

Step 2: You have now cultivated a burgeoning self-awareness around this unhelpful habit of yours, so it's time to try something different. In your next conversation, catch yourself whenever you're about to apologize, take a breath, don't apologize, and move on. (Hint: This is going to feel scary and uncomfortable.)

Step 3: Repeat step 2. Over and over and over again.

Here are a few closing thoughts, folks. In addition to improving your communication and increasing your self-confidence, this practice is going to help you 1) take greater ownership of your feelings, and 2) cultivate deeper, more authentic connections with other people. How so? You'll be freer to just be yourself, which will in turn enable others to get to know you for who you *actually* are, thus ensuring the people who stick around are more accepting of you in all your awesomeness. Most of the time, we don't offend other people -- but sometimes we do. And you know what? Who cares! Chances are good the other person or people will let you know if you've offended them. If and when they let you know, then you can apologize -- if you want to. And if you do apologize, it'll be an authentic apology, which the other party is then responsible for accepting or rejecting. Either way, you've dealt with it, together, and can move on. Life is weird, you guys, and human interaction can likewise be very weird and imprecise and confusing and whatnot. So just go with it! Let 'er rip -- be yourself. Everyone, including you, will be so much better off if you let yourself be yourself.

Enjoy the day!