When Work is Wearing You Down

I solicited suggestions for topics the other day on Facebook, and somebody recommended that I write a post about work, which I think is a great idea. The person who made the recommendation correctly observed that work, for better or worse, is a huge part of our lives (for most of us).

Aside from the many hours we spend on the job, we also need to account for the time we spend getting ready for the day, traveling to the office, traveling home from the office, and transitioning back into what remains of the rest of the day or evening. That time adds up quickly, especially when you consider that, for many people, that process repeats itself almost ceaselessly until retirement. So it can be said, then, that work costs us our time. Work also costs us money; we dedicate considerable financial resources to work. For example, we spend money on commuting, on our wardrobe, and on feeding ourselves during the work day.

The biggest potential cost of work, though, is on our mind, heart, and spirit.

Whether we like what we do for work or not, we've all had "one of those days." Sometimes, for some people, "one of those days" turns into "one of those" weeks, months, years, and even careers, unfortunately. And it doesn't even have to be so drastic and acute, you know? Dissatisfaction, boredom, and aimlessness in one's work can sneak up on a person, insidiously, until they find themselves thoroughly exhausted by life, and dreading "just another damn day at the office." Viewed in that light, the sardonic worker-bee refrain, "another day, another dollar: and not a penny more" is grim indeed.

I've been there, to be sure -- on the aforementioned journey of acute occupational dissatisfaction, that is. I was miserable with my work; and not so much because of the nature of the work in question, but rather because of the fact that I didn't at that time have an identifiable aim for my professional life. I perceived what I was doing to be nothing more than a means to some meaningless end, and utterly devoid, furthermore, of relevance and importance to my life's mission. It made no sense to me, given the arc of my life, and I dreaded waking up for work in the morning as a result. If that sounds dramatic, that's because it was dramatic.

So, what got me through? For that matter, what gets anyone through occupational despair? I guess I can't definitively answer for everyone, because, well, I'm not everyone. But I suspect that some folks are highly adept at compartmentalizing their lives; i.e., they're able to keep their dissatisfaction with work at work, and go on with the business of enjoying the rest of their lives. If that resonates with you, please know that I'm insanely jealous of, and happy for, you. :) For others, though, and for myself, certainly, a four-letter H-word is the key: hope. I'm not talking about pie-in-the-sky hope, mind you; I'm talking about real hope.

Have you ever wondered why and how such terrible things in our history as, for example, slavery and coal mining gave rise to such rich, amazing, and influential music? To my way of thinking, slaves and miners were horribly oppressed by the nature of their work, and they needed to be lifted up. Moreover, I think their needs for happiness and fulfillment simply refused to die: they fought their ways to the surface, and they emerged in brilliant melody and time signature. The music which these groups of people made, then, was the manifestation and reminder of the spirit -- of the life -- which continued to dwell within them, despite their troubles. And so it goes with all of us, my friends -- that spirit, and that urge to thrive, dwells within us all.

I'm reminded of a Grateful Dead song, called "Cumberland Blues," that nearly always brings me to tears when I hear it. Here some of the lyrics:

Lotta poor man make a five-dollar bill
Keeps him happy all the time
Some other fella's makin' nothin' at all
And you can hear him cry:
"Can I go, buddy? Can I go down?
Take your shift at the mine?"
Gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine (gotta get down to the Cumberland Mine)
That's where I mainly spend my time
Make good money, five dollars a day
Made any more I might move away
Lotta poor man got the Cumberland blues
He can't win for losin'
Lotta poor man got to walk the line
Just to pay his union dues
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again
I don't know now, I just don't know
If I'm going back again

(Click here to listen to the song on YouTube)

The rest of the song's lyrics help flesh it out; but to me, it's a workingman's song of desperation, and it's heartbreaking. It's a testament to the bad old days, when coal mining was a much more prevalent occupation than it is now, and even more dangerous. A piece of me wants to give thanks that we've evolved beyond work conditions like coal mining, and like slavery -- but then I wonder...have we? In some ways, many workers are still in some situation or other that amounts to little more than indentured servitude. We work to pay the mortgage(s), or our car loan(s), or our student loan(s), or our credit card(s), etc.

Iron shackles and black lung disease have been replaced by consumer debt and anxiety disorders. To quote Arthur Miller: "Attention must be paid."

What's a worker to do? Most of the time, it isn't feasible, desirable, or advisable to just walk away from these obligations, because, among other reasons, they'll eventually catch back up with us. Sometimes, though, simply walking away is essential. I can't tell you what's best for you. What I can say, though, is that our task is to find real hope, and real satisfaction in our occupational lives. That's a big job in itself, to be sure, and will look vastly different for each person.

For me, I'm finding that the act of pursuing something I truly love -- writing and developing this blog, among other things -- provides me the fulfillment I currently lack in a 9-to-5 job. I hope and trust, even, that I will eventually find my way to paid work that is enriching and sufficiently lucrative. In the meantime, I thrive on the love of what I am doing with this and other writing projects; on the trust that I will continue to give myself the -- what? -- half-hour a day I need to work on these passions; and on the very real hope that it will lead me somewhere interesting.

I urge you to give yourself a little time each day to practice your interests. A word of advice: pay no mind to the outcome for now. Just let yourself do what you enjoy. You'll be surprised what it unlocks within yourself, and you'll be surprised where it leads you.

Thanks.

PS -- On the sidebar of this blog on the right-hand side is a list of websites I like. Check out James Altucher's work. He has written at length about jobs and careers, has a lot of great things to say, and has helped me tremendously.

Being bad at stuff

I've been practicing being really bad at stuff lately -- not all stuff, mind you, but some stuff. What stuff? Stuff that I used to invent arbitrary measures of success for, most of which were trivial, insignificant, and/or weird; and stuff that I used to berate myself for not being perfect at, when I actually-really-truly didn't give a shit about the stuff in question to begin with! There are some things, even lots of things, that we all need to give fewer shits about.

You'll notice on my Twitter profile, here, that I declare something about taking myself too seriously, which is entirely true. I've written about that on this blog, in fact. Anyway, I get really anal about my communication sometimes, to a ridiculous extent. More often than not, it just gets in the way of me being who I am, because neurotic self-editing tends to do that, you know? So I've been practicing letting myself be a crappy conversationalist with strangers. That's not to say I'm being a prick to anyone -- no. But whereas I used to secretly assume such a ridiculous burden of responsibility in most conversations, I'm letting myself just kind of not really care how it goes; i.e., I have either no or low expectations of myself and the conversation's outcome.

Honestly, it's been really fun. Because who cares if I say something the other person doesn't understand? Not my responsibility. Who cares if my syntax isn't great? I'm just letting myself be me for a change, and it's like a weight is gone.

Maybe take a minute today and think about some of the unreasonable expectations you have of yourself. And then maybe go ahead and let yourself be bad at it. "Let yourself suck," I like to say. Give fewer shits. It's kind of liberating, it really is.

Clearing the Air

I really enjoy working on this blog. I love writing and networking, and I'm even learning a little about managing a website. It's exciting to be creating something I find really interesting, and it's been incredibly gratifying to get readers' support and feedback. So, thanks.

I don't know exactly what this blog is evolving into, but I do know I owe it to myself, and to anyone who reads its content, for it to be as "top-notch" as possible. I need to always have an eye on progress. And if you're going to be reading my work, I think you ought to know as much as possible about my motives, and about my "chops," so to speak; therefore, there's something I want to share with you that might give you a better sense of why I'm doing this, and where, moreover, I'm coming from.

Here goes:

I've been interested in human psychology for a very long time, which is not in and of itself an especially notable thing. No, what's notable (to me, anyway) about my interest in psychology is that it's been driven in large part by a desire to, well, help myself. You see, I've gone through some really hard times from a mental health perspective. I'm sure I'll divulge more about that in future posts, but suffice to say I've experienced my own little slices of hell -- some of which were situational, some of which were part of normal stages of human development, and others which were, well, difficult to tidily explain.

The hell-slices which were difficult to explain were life-changing, and a lot of destruction arose from them; but, in retrospect, the destruction in each case was utterly necessary to my journey, or to my personal creation story, if you will. Each episode of destruction carried within it the seeds of growth and renewal, and so I'm grateful for them. (Incidentally, I tongue-in-cheek dub an aspect of myself "my inner Shiva the Destroyer" for these very reasons.)

It doesn't mean these episodes of destruction weren't truly hellish. Some of them left me so wretched, disconnected, and confused that I nearly lost my life.

I want you, my readers, to know these things about me, because I think they're relevant to this blog. I also am finding a certain catharsis in discussing them so publicly. You see, my desire to stand up on a soapbox and spread the word about mental health springs out of my own, very personal experiences. I know what it's like to feel abject misery. I know what it's like to feel like I'm utterly out of control. I know what it's like to feel as if I'm going crazy. Shit, I have gone crazy, in my own little way. And you want to know what really sucks about it, and what ignites my passion to do this? Much of it could have been offset if my loved ones and I had known more about mental health -- and I'm not unique in that regard: much of the mental health-related suffering that others experience today could be mitigated with a little less ignorance, and a little dose of education.

You know what else? I'm really fortunate: I made it through. That brings me to my last points for now -- and don't mess with me on this, because I know what I'm talking about:

1) There is always hope: even if you feel hopeless, even if you can't entertain the thought of it, and even if you can't see it. Always. 2) There is always something we can learn from our experiences, however horrible they may be. Stay curious about your life; and if you aren't curious, get curious. 3) If you're going through hell, always find a way to let the hurt out which you feel in your heart and mind, whether it's via talking to a friend, writing in a journal, singing in a band, taking a walk, playing with a puppy, or meditating alone in a room. Better out than in: release it.

We must free ourselves from the shackles of ignorance and shame about mental health. We all think; we all feel. We all experience this life, so let's be curious about it, then. Let's acknowledge that pain and unbalance exist within us all! Let's give each other the space to reach out in times of need, understanding that we are all, periodically, in need; and, similarly, let's extend our hand to help another up in our own unique way. That's what I'm trying to do here.

Thanks for reading. 

Reframing for Opportunity and Productivity

We all have problems. Some problems are easy to handle: we manage them without distress and move on. Other problems, though, are more difficult. They play on our fears, and they elicit powerful thoughts, impulses, and feelings. The resulting psychological discomfort may tempt us into groping after quick-fix avoidant behaviors which, after all, don't actually help -- and may exacerbate -- the problem. It happens to all of us. As I recently said, none of us is invulnerable in this life. We all have buttons that can be pushed, and life sure as hell pushes them sometimes.

The problem, as I see it, is when we get bogged down and knocked off track by our problems, and especially when we allow our problems to consume us. When things go wrong that really bother us, it's all-too-easy to fall into a pessimistic, angry, and/or victim mentality. The issue with such a mentality, aside from the fact that it exacerbates our suffering, is that it can limit or block altogether our ability to adjust, connect with our goals, and move on.

Pessimism, negativity, anger, and feeling like a victim are normal human experiences, but they are, nevertheless, subjective experiences. Persistent patterns of beliefs in those regards are products of what we call concrete thinking, and its limiting potential is endless -- not a good thing for the intrepid life journeyer. (For illustration, think about the most pessimistic person you know, and recall a conversation with them. If you think about the things they tend to say, you'll probably notice the utter conviction of their views; that is, they firmly, steadfastly believe that their worldview is the way it is, period.) Since persistent negativity is such a powerful experience, though, and since most of us don't necessarily intuitively question our beliefs, it's very tempting to automatically believe and identify with these negative views.

When this happens, and when we are stuck in this type of persistent pattern of thought, we have to recalibrate our thinking in order to truly move on. Fortunately, there's a simple technique -- a simple question -- we can use to help us achieve this aim, and all it requires is a little willpower. Why willpower? Because we will probably discover that negativity has its own allure, and doesn't relinquish control easily. The negativity I'm talking about, after all, is a defense mechanism, and is designed, strange though it may sound, to provide comfort against the pain of disappointment, feeling powerless, and fear. It's kind of like "The Force" in Star Wars: there's a light side and a dark side; the dark side is very powerful and, therefore, tempting -- but it only leads to decay, corruption, slavery, and death. Who needs that? I sure as hell don't. So if we find ourselves succumbing to the gravity of negative thinking, we have to choose something different, and work to make that something different happen.

I digress. The question-thought-technique is simple, and it goes something like this: "Ok, Self, you're miserable. This, this, this, and this are going badly, and everything sucks -- we've established that, right? Right. Ok, let me think...if all this stuff equals misery, and misery equals pain and suffering, then I don't want that, right? Right. So if that's what I don't want...(wait for it)...then what do I want?"

That's it! That's all there is to it! You have to force yourself into thinking about what you want, instead of ruminating perpetually about things you obviously don't. Thinking about what you want unlocks, and allows you to explore, the positive world within yourself, which is where all the good stuff that propels a person in life comes from: hopes, dreams, aspirations, motivation, clarity, passion, and resolve. And the really good news is this: Negative thinking tends to perpetuate more negative thinking, much like a trap, or a downward, never-ending spiral. Positive thinking works on the same self-perpetuating principle, except its results are freedom, joy, and achievement.

Do it up! :)

Thought Experiments and Fear

Greetings on this fine Tuesday! I have a thought experiment to share with you, but first I want to indulge a few, well, thoughts on thought experiments.

Thought experiments can be incredibly useful, I think. Our lives and our mind-chatter can be so frenetic at times that they obscure our ability to focus. When this happens, then, and we find ourselves frustrated by the proverbial clutter, it can be helpful to impose certain parameters on our thinking. Now, I like to think about this in terms of games and music. Think about it: if games didn't have rules, there would be chaos; you wouldn't know what to do or where to go, and it would be decidedly un-fun in very short order. So if you're by yourself with a deck of cards and you don't know the rules to, say, solitaire, that deck of cards is going to be pretty useless. With music, if you don't know how to play an instrument, and you don't have an idea (intrinsic and/or studied) of how music works, then you won't be able to play it. In games and music, then, rules actually set us free by enabling us to play: when we know the rules, we don't have to think about them -- we can just play.

Good thought experiments work the same way. In a thought experiment, a hypothetical question or scenario acts the same way as do the rules of a game; i.e., just as knowledge of the rules of solitaire frees us to play it, a full consideration of the hypothetical question or scenario frees us to explore everything within its parameters.

I've found the following thought experiment to be enormously helpful with respect to, among other things, decision-making, gaining clarity, and grounding in the moment (i.e., getting out of my head). The question is, simply,

"What would you feel or think about this if all the fear associated with it were gone?"

It was a jackpot question for me at the time, it really was. When I asked myself that question, I was trying to make a decision about something important. I had made my lists of pros and cons; I had assessed the likely outcomes of my options; I had talked it out with other people; and I had done everything I could imagine to help myself arrive at a sound, decision-making platform -- but I remained very unclear about it. I soon realized that most of my confusion was borne out of fear -- not all of which, I should note, was irrational fear. I knew that there could be unpleasant consequences as the result of making a particular decision. But as soon as I asked myself that question up there, the answer instantly appeared. I made my decision accordingly, and I'm happy with it.

Fear remains, but that's ok. I'll always have fear about something or other, as will we all. We wouldn't be human if we weren't afraid of things. Sometimes it's ok to honor our fear and let it guide our decisions; but sometimes fear makes things seem a lot worse than they are. Sometimes fear just works to strip us of our clarity and confidence, and of our ability to listen to ourselves. A good thought-experiment can be the perfect antidote. Give it a go!

Tools

There isn't always a clear explanation for mental health issues, you know? Sometimes they seem to just happen, without warning, like an earthquake or a flash flood. A lot of mental health work / wellness practice / proactive healthcare, then, concerns the matter of learning how to recognize these happenings, and to better-manage them if and when they occur.

If you haven't already, you'll probably hear the "tools" metaphor as you explore the world of mental health further; i.e., mental health work is akin to the process of expanding one's collection of tools. After all, as one acquires and gains mastery of a variety of tools, one's ability to fix, build, and demolish things concurrently increases. Generally speaking, then, a person is better-equipped to handle their relationship with themselves, and the world at large, if they have a wealth of inner resources.

Remember, though, that even expert repairmen occasionally encounter a job that's really difficult. World-class athletes train exhaustively, but sometimes, despite their efforts, they tear a hamstring or pull a muscle.

None of us is invulnerable in this life. We control very little of our worlds, and of ourselves, even. Sometimes, yes, shit happens. Sometimes there's a panic attack out of the blue, or inexplicable despair strikes, or an old, long-forgotten hurt arises to torture us, or we get fired, or someone we love dies,  or we find that we're "sweating the small stuff," etc. We humans are too complicated and too fragile to not be knocked on our ass by life from time to time -- maybe even for a string of time.

The tools and inner resources which we cultivate, then, while not rendering us impervious, can help us through even the worst times. You know, even the most well-built machine needs repairing on occasion. Sometimes a house gets ruined by a flood and needs to be rebuilt. In either case, it's helpful to know how to use tools, because that way, the machine can be fixed, and the house can be rebuilt. Less tangible tools -- our inner resources, if you will -- can work to our advantage in the same way: they can help us get back up, regain perspective, learn, and keep moving forward.

Taboo!

It occurs to me, as it has before, that the phrase "mental health" packs a hell of a wallop. It's taboo. People don't want to talk about it. Like most things taboo, the reality of mental health is surrounded by what essentially amounts to a moat -- a moat which teems with the gnarly-toothed crocodiles of stigma, misconception, shame, fear, and sarcasm.

Most people, when confronted with taboos, metaphorically turn on their heel and run away -- it's easier that way, and safer: after all, if a thing is surrounded by a moat, it must be dangerous, right? So it's better for everyone if we just leave it alone.

Admittedly, there is a thread of defensible logic to that line of thinking regarding taboo subjects like mental health. Sometimes an individual, or even the collective We, can get away with leaving well enough alone; and when the inevitable, if rare, moat crossing occurs, we can conveniently treat it with an authentic, if slightly contrived, shock and horror.
However, the fact of the matter is that we are fascinated by the deep, dark corners of this human experience of ours. We are captivated by taboos. The movies and television shows we watch, the news stories that get all the press, the jokes we tell, the games we play, and the secrets we keep tend to contain material and experiences which are somehow reprehensible, unacceptable, abnormal, and grotesque -- and we secretly devour it with relish and indulgence. Industries thrive on it; we can't tear away from it.

That, to me, is what's truly grotesque: that we can make a mockery or entertainment out of something without having the courage to have an actual conversation about it.
I am here to tell you now that we all, each of us, contain that which is dark, nasty, ugly, grotesque, and taboo. Thankfully, we don't necessarily make even a fraction of it manifest in our behavior, but it's there nevertheless; and it is an important aspect of our humanity. To deny it is folly, for it is indelibly there, whether we want to admit it or not, and it is impossible to bury or deny aspects of ourselves without suffering some sort of consequence.

*******************************************************************************

Ahh, "mental health"...I wish I had a different phrase for it! It carries such stigma. When I was growing up, I equated mental health and mental illness with people in padded rooms. Anyone with mental health problems, in my view, was utterly crazy, always, and incapacitated with their inexplicable, terrifying weirdness. That may seem naive -- and it is -- but I suspect there are many, many people out there whose own views about mental health and mental illness are not too far off that mark. What a shame. What an unnecessary, inaccurate, and destructive shame.

The truth is that mental health is almost exactly like physical health, in that it evolves, stabilizes, and periodically destabilizes throughout a person's life. By way of an example, a person who lives to a ripe old age has probably enjoyed a relatively healthy life, which has been free, perhaps, from chronic, severe health issues. That same person, however, may have endured a few dozen illnesses throughout their life, ranging from the common cold to bronchitis to the stomach flu to appendicitis. Likewise, a person who has remained "mentally healthy" throughout their life can probably identify instances in which they were intrusively pessimistic, angry, fearful, harried, distracted, sad, "out of control," etc. Some of these instances would certainly be circumstantial, but I'd be willing to bet that at least some of them would be rather difficult to explain.

Let me say this: if you have ever had an unusual emotional experience which has affected your actions, perceptions, and/or interactions with others, then you have experienced a mental health problem -- maybe even (gasp!) a mental illness. It doesn't mean you should have been wrapped up in a straight jacket, or that you should have been committed. It simply means you're human -- and human beings have mental health to contend with. If you can understand that, then you can understand where I'm coming from. There is no intrinsic shame in having a mental health issue; instead, it's one of those things that, well, just is. I urge everyone to consider the universality of mental health. If we can strip away the shame, stigma, and taboo, then we can free ourselves -- individually and collectively -- to offer real assistance to those in need. Chances are good, after all, that we, ourselves, will need that assistance at some point.

Guerrilla Tactics in Battling Depression, Part 1

That last post had a life of its own; I think I was originally going to write this post, but I needed to say that stuff first. Anyway, as this blog has "mental health" in the title, and because, you know, I want to, I think it's okay to write about depression right now.

Employing guerrilla tactics is an advisable course of action when battling the tenacious anti-hero, Depression. What does that mean? It means, first of all, that one must come to grips with the fact that there is no magic bullet, and there is no single "cure," for depression. To be sure, some things work better than others for different people, and may take the lead role in their treatment and recovery, kind of like how the Marines are (to my understanding) the elite, front-line branch of the military. (I'm no fan of warfare, but let's stick with that metaphor for a sec.) But in times of full-scale war, the Marines can't do it alone, can they? They need the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, and the Special Forces to all do their thing, too, right? Right. So we must refrain, then, from endowing any one treatment method with our "magic bullet" hopes. Kapisch? Kapisch.

Depression is a terrible thing. It can be lethal, and often is. It has a negative impact on our ability to think, make decisions, prioritize tasks, etc.; i.e., it messes up our cognitive functioning. It screws up our bodies, too. Lots of people suffering from depression feel achy and sluggish, and find themselves more prone to illness and injury. Many people with depression have experienced unusually disruptive sleep: some people report feeling the need to sleep all day (or not get out of bed); others report great difficulty falling asleep; others report difficulty staying asleep. Depression can even affect a person's appetite. Some sufferers lose their appetite either entirely or in part, and lose weight; some others begin to eat more than usual, and gain weight.

And of course, depression obliterates one's moods. Some people describe depression as being somewhere along the sadness continuum. I've heard others describe it as an absence of feeling altogether, or as a terrible, black emptiness. Regardless, it impedes (to put it nicely) one's ability to experience themselves, other people, and, well, the whole of the world external to them. The sum total of all this is that depression can, and often does, destroy a person's life as they know it. It is an equal-opportunity problem, meaning it occurs regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, etc.; it is widespread; and it is to be taken seriously.

The really tricky thing is that, while there are detectable symptoms of depression (some of which I described above), it can look very, very different from person to person. The reason for that is simple: we're all different. Depression, as I noted, affects just about every aspect of a person's, well, person. It interacts with thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and physical-body processes; and since we're all different, there isn't an algorithm, per se, that can necessarily predict how depression will manifest in an individual. (To be sure, one who suffers from depression can learn to recognize the signs and symptoms of depression within themselves; rather, I'm talking about depression in general terms.)

Let's regroup for a moment. My primary observations in this little essay are that, 1) depression affects all aspects of a person's self, and is not, in fact, "just" about feeling down in the dumps; and 2) depression manifests differently in different people. Thus, I conclude that it doesn't seem reasonable to expect any single treatment method to -- voila! -- do the trick. No. An effective treatment for depression will include a whole-person approach, and will address, perhaps, the medical aspect (medication), emotional aspect (too many to list, but talk therapy is up there), and physical aspect (behavior modification, e.g., exercise).

I'm no shill for the pharmaceutical industry. In fact, I suspect/believe that many psychiatric medications are over-prescribed. I'm also nervous about the short-term side effects of many psychiatric medications; and I wonder about the long-term ramifications of their use. Anyway, in spite of those doubts, I strongly believe that medication is imperative for many folks suffering from depression. (There's not much I can really add to that statement, so I'll end it there.)

I'm biased in favor of talk therapy, but I concede it is most certainly not the best option for everyone -- for a variety of reasons, you know? Sometimes a person just can't afford it. There's also a strong stigma, especially for men in our (USA) culture, against seeing a therapist. Or, sometimes a person just doesn't think very highly of therapy in general, for personal and/or cultural reasons. That being said, I believe therapy can be extraordinarily helpful for someone suffering from depression -- even life-changing. There is unique and powerful value in the therapeutic alliance, there really is. It's an opportunity to discuss, learn, and grow in a supportive environment, and with someone you don't have to worry about upsetting, insulting, or alienating. It's a therapist's job to help their clients get where they want to go, so to speak. It can be a great thing.

The behavioral aspect warrants its own post. Stay tuned.

Link: "Accepting the Unacceptable"

This is a good, concise article on acceptance by Eric Sudler, M.S. at The Albert Ellis Institute's blog.

http://albertellis.org/accepting-the-unacceptable/

The B.S. of the "Selfish" Label, or, "Do You!"

It's so darkly hilarious to me that we live in a society which, despite its purported valuing of "the individual" (especially in contrast with some Eastern cultures which purportedly value the collective), is so damn quick to demand conformity, and so damn quick to label non-conformist activities in service of personal fulfillment as "bad," somehow, or "selfish."

What the hell does that even mean? It's stupid, this bandied-about label of selfishness. Its misuse only serves to incite reluctance to take care of one's needs, and yes, to hold one's needs in the highest possible esteem -- and, God forbid, to put one's needs first, A-Numero-Uno, atop one's life priorities list. What's the problem with that? We've got this notion, reinforced by the myriad (ancient) social institutions which thrive on their adherents' subordination, that actions not involving self-sacrifice, subserviance, inattention to self, and even self-shaming, are "bad."

What's wrong with living one's life in freedom from the shackles of putting too much stock in others' opinions about how one OUGHT to live one's life? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no amoralist. We're social creatures, and we live in a society (as I've said before in this blog). We are, therefore, exposed to other's opinions and ways of life, and we will inevitably be strongly influenced by society-at-large. That's fine: it's natural, and it's good. Furthermore, there are certain core, near-universal human-rights-related values to which we have collectively agreed, and to which, therefore, we must adhere. For example, it's not okay to kill someone. It's not okay to steal other people's belongings. It's not okay to physically or psychologically abuse other people. Etc.

That leads me to my real point here. Namely, putting one's needs first, and maintaining a strong moral, socially responsible code of ethics, are NOT mutually exclusive; that is, we don't have to be all in one camp or all in the other. They can, and should, co-exist. Life, of course, requires some degree of sacrifice at times. But to persistently sacrifice one's identity, one's hopes and dreams, and one's senses of happiness, fulfillment, progress, and well-being in service of what other people want/expect/demand/hope of one is harmful -- on the individual and collective levels. It does nobody ANY good whatsoever, and it is, furthermore, madness. It is unnatural.

We are at our best when we feel good about what we're doing on a deep, personal level. We are at our best when we're "doing our thing," as only we know how. And I'll tell you what: if other people disapprove of that, or if they threaten to abandon you or leave you behind because you're daring to reclaim your well-being, then they are clearly on a path which is tangential to yours, and not parallel. Take the reins of your life -- of your life's purpose, as only you understand it -- back. Take back your power. "Do you," as the saying goes. By doing so, you will be freeing yourself to do what you probably hoped to do anyway by sacrificing yourself so fully: helping others along their journeys.

Peace.

Forgiveness

Have I written about forgiveness here? I think I've mentioned it, but I haven't really delved into it as a topic. I think this is a good time to start.

Forgiveness, both of others and of oneself, is one of those concepts that isn't often really explained or examined; it's taken for granted. You don't need to dig too deep into literature, spiritual/religious texts and sermons, or even conversations to hear about it; and yet, what is it, really? How does it work? How do I do it?

My take on it all is that, when it is discussed, forgiveness is often represented as a rather finite, cut-and-dried act, as if one simply forgives another person or oneself of a transgression, right then and there, and moves on. I don't think that really cuts the mustard, especially for the big stuff.

Coming back to those angst-addled questions above: I think the process of forgiveness is deeply personal, and largely undefinable in general terms. I think it's a messy, confusing process, featuring cycles of peace, conflict, progress, and regression, not necessarily in that order, and occurring, often, simultaneously. Our logical, conscious reasoning, as I'm sure you know, can be astonishingly out of step with our feelings -- in general, yes, but certainly while we're in the process of forgiving: we might be able to put the transgression(s) into perspective logically, grasping the fact that we should (beware that word) release it and put it behind us, but find ourselves angry, hurt, and ruminative nonetheless.

Oy.

The thing about forgiveness, though, is that we can fuel its progress with our intention. If we continue to choose to seek forgiveness, we will find that we're ultimately moving in its direction. Perhaps one day the forgiver will find that something has "clicked," and that they have, in fact, utterly forgiven the transgression. Or perhaps it will remain a struggle that requires periodic fine-tuning and revisiting, sort of like how a car requires a tune-up every so often.

That latter example speaks to me. I find that the anguish of certain transgressions rear up in my heart sometimes, and require that I take a little time to accept my discomfort, give it a think, give it some compassion, and move on with my day.

Befriend Yourself

Be a friend to yourself. Actually, be your own best friend. Give yourself the patience, support, acknowledgment, attention, positive regard, and love that others may not always be able to give you.  Befriend the parts of yourself you wish didn't exist, or those you try to avoid, or to push away. Be a compassionate mentor to yourself, and seek information, support, peace, and imagination. Seek life, in other words. We all feel the fear of uncertainty at times -- maybe even much of the time. But we can move through it, if we can only trust ourselves to do so. And to do so, we must be our own staunchest friend and ally.

More Hamlet; The Dance of Consciousness

The slings and arrows of the external world are nothing in comparison with the demons within. Our beliefs, assumptions of reality, and impressions, all at the subconscious level, give birth to our thoughts, which in turn either soothe or torture us. Our subconscious has a direct influence on the shape and feel of our lives. It tells us what we can and cannot do; it limits us or sets us free. To live the life we want, we must each find a way to allow the dust of our conscious minds to settle -- for who can see clearly through a storm? Indeed, we must allow our conscious minds to settle into the bedrock of our unknowable spirit; and we must trust that our spirit will lead us into the promised land, so to speak, if we do so. And thus, we will become alchemists in our own right, conjuring our consciousness into the form and dance of our spirits.

Leaps of Faith, Hamlet, and Action

It's difficult sometimes to know whether to make a change or to stay the course. Rational decision-making processes generally feature some combination of weighing pros and cons, "gut" feelings, goals, and potential consequences of the options in play; i.e., one engages a variety of thought experiments in attempts to gain clarity amid confusion.

These attempts can be frustrating, though, because they often lead the intrepid thought-experimenter right back into their quagmire. The truth is, none of us can ever clearly ascertain the outcome of any decision. We can't predict the future with certainty. Many of us guard against that by proceeding methodically, and accounting for possible outcomes to the best of our abilities.

Sometimes, though, you just have to leap.

It's easier said than done, to be sure. Taking a leap of faith evokes a lot of negative feedback, both from within and without. Our conditioning, experience, and belief systems might protest, "this is crazy!" Our loved ones, along with societal norms, might send us the same messages. Such feedback can be paralyzing, and stop us in our tracks. I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes from "Hamlet":

And thus, the native hue of resolution 
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of Action.

Granted, Hamlet is referring to suicide, which I do not recommend or condone. That aside, however, these words remind me that sometimes one must simply ACT. Sometimes, one must fly in the face of convention and make a change, and let the chips fall where they will. Sometimes such behavior represents the deepest act of self-regard possible; for by doing so, one is proclaiming, "This situation is unacceptable to me, and I can't go on like this. I have to do this for my own well-being. And I trust that I will successfully navigate the consequences, and that I will be happier, healthier, wiser, and better for having done what I did."

Vlog #5

Sleep on it

We all have difficult days. We all have days in which it seems like our problems are insurmountable. At times, life might just seem overwhelming or exhausting. We might be wrestling with a decision, entirely unsure of the right thing to do; the way forward may seem unclear.

There's something to be said for going to sleep that night, waking up the next day, and carrying on with the business of living, whatever that looks like. If it only provides the solace that you've survived the battle, so be it. And it might just provide you with the refresher you need to see things with renewed clarity.

Life is lived now, always.

Speculation on a Saturday

Have you ever heard or read the assertion, "There is nothing wrong with you"? What if you really believed it to be true? Think on it.

Much of this life, for many of us, is spent looking forward to something or other. We consciously or unconsciously identify personal and/or professional goals based on what we value, and we become heavily invested in attaining those goals. Such is the nature of things, and it's good.

What if, however, we refrained from basing our concept of self-worth, or of success, on our perceived ability to identify and attain those goals? What if instead we believed we are, by nature -- by default -- fantastically wonderful, amazing creatures, worthy of total admiration, love, and respect? And what if, in realizing those things, we discovered we can give those gifts to ourselves: that we can give ourselves unconditional admiration, love, and respect?

And what if such realizations were not mutually exclusive with living an actual human life? In other words, what if none of that stuff meant we had to live our lives as cloistered, levitating monks? Or that we wouldn't be periodically disappointed, disgusted, angry, guilty, sad, frustrated, unbalanced, unstable, irrational, or hurtful?

What if, instead, the foundational self-worth I'm speculating about enabled us to discover a truer compassion, truer forgiveness, truer remorse, truer kindness, truer intelligence, truer intuition, truer serenity, and truer freedom to pursue the goals and loves of our lives?

Food for thought.

The Mind-Body Link is a Thing, You Guys

The mind-body link. Holistic medicine and healing methods. Determining the root cause of the problem, not just treating the symptom. Macrobiotic, or vegetarian, or vegan, or raw foods diets-as-good for physical and mental health. Wheat grass. Whole grains. Clean diesel. Cars running on veggie oil. GMOs (genetically modified organisms). Eating organic food.

You've probably encountered similar-themed material; or perhaps you've had an uncomfortable conversation with a very passionate person (possibly wearing Birkenstocks or driving a Subaru [kidding...or am I?]) who demands you see the Truth of some nugget of We're-All-One pseudo-wisdom, plucked from the voluminous, postmodern currents of the hippie-liberal milieu.

If you haven't, then you're about to. Sort of.

Now, a little about me, for the sake of context. I haven't worn (or owned) Birkenstocks in a long time, and tie-dye T-shirts are no longer a staple of my wardrobe. My man-mane, i.e., my pony-tail, was long ago cut off in favor of a shorter coif. I have a half-sleeve tattoo on one arm, but, depending on how you met me, you probably wouldn't know it: I also really like professional, even conservative, attire (argyle is awesome, as are well-tailored suits). I'm rather well-spoken, deferential, and well-mannered. Suited up properly, I could almost certainly pass for an active member of the Young Republicans, or maybe a yacht club. And yet...

Ok, I'll give it a rest.

The point of my humor has been to acknowledge a critique of an ecological (i.e., one that embraces and attends to the interconnectedness of all things), or holistic perspective: that it tends to be espoused by the "intellectual, liberal elite," who themselves, in turn, could be said to have some affiliation with the, er, crunchier aspects of the movements, fads, and trends I listed above.

Be that as it may, there is plenty of data and research available that explore the link, or relationship, between the mind and the body. It may be said, actually, that they are far less separate than we tend to think of them as being -- or, indeed, that they are not "separate" at all.

Listen, here's the bottom line: the stuff we find our minds wandering about, and the stuff in our subconsciousness, and the stuff we direct our attention toward, and unresolved conflicts and childhood traumas and whatnot -- all of it affects our physical vessels, or, put another way, our physical well-being. Think about it: everyone knows there's a strong correlative link between stress and heart problems (to cite one example off the top of my head). Conversely, our physical vessels affect the processes, functioning, and health of our minds -- our mental health. Think about that for a second, and all it implies. You've probably heard about or experienced a most basic example of this principle: that exercise -- even light exercise -- can help improve a bad mood. Or think about the saying, "you are what you eat." It's kind of true, even in view of what I'm discussing. An overabundance of fried food, for example, tends to lead to a pretty icky, lethargic feeling. You might feel sleepy, unresponsive, slow-witted, etc. You get the point.

Or maybe you don't. Need some further proof, or food for thought? Check out the abstract of an article entitled, "Breakfast and Mental Health" from the International Journal of Food Sciences and Nutrition (Vol. 49, Issue 5). In all fairness, the article is older (1998), and the relationships (as the abstract clearly delineates) are correlative, not causal; additionally, there obviously exist mediating and moderating variables which affect participants' mental health (the abstract addresses that, too). Regardless, there's a demonstrable positive relationship between breakfast consumption (of cereal, in this study) and good mental health.

There are lots of studies about this topic. I encourage you to investigate it yourself. And I encourage you, as you seek to maintain good health, or to improve your health, to take the mind-body relationship into account.

Trust a hippie who knows. :)

Deconstructing Extremism

Reader Feedback

This is a new blog, and still very much in its development stages. I haven't yet worked too intensely on the format, set a routine or schedule for my posts, or fully established the tone and scope of the content. Bearing all that in mind, I want your feedback. You can use the following questions as guideposts if you prefer, or just go ahead and leave general comments if that suits you better. Also, feel free to either comment on this post or email me directly.

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