Blacksmith and Iron Ore

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!

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."