We think in words.
There was a time when we didn't, before we learned our native language, and not many experiences from back then are stored in our memory. Except for traumas, and let me tell you, pre-verbal traumas are a bitch. All traumas are a bitch, but pre-verbal traumas are extra-specially bitchy.
Anyway. Now that we have learned our native language, we use words to organize and understand everything. We have running commentaries in our heads, narrating our lives. We automatically translate what we experience into words, both for storing in memory and for sharing with others.
The process is called articulation -- choosing what words to use, how to say it, how we want to tell the story, and the words we choose affect how we think & feel about the experience.
People tend to be lazy about this. Maybe school wasn't really their thang, and building a vocabulary of the nuances of our language seems like an endeavor for stuffy literature professors. Or, they just don't think it's their particular talent, so they leave it to the poets and writers to use the "right" words.
But they're wrong. They are writers. Every day, they write the story of their own life, inside their head.
And it makes a difference, how you say it. When your boss does something aggregious, thinking "what an idiot" produces a whole different set of mood chemicals in your body than thinking "what a mistake."
This is not the same as "positive thinking." Positive thinking, in its common, distorted and greatly maligned form, is denying reality. Don't do that. Denying reality doesn't help and causes a host of other psychological problems.
I'm talking about the opposite of denying reality. Articulating things differently is about being more accurate. Your boss isn't an idiot, he or she is just making a bad call. We all make bad calls. Acknowledging the bad call is fine, but adding judgment and insult to it will bring you down.
Here's something else people do a lot: "I'm just kidding." This is basically an excuse for being lazy with language. Kidding is a passive-aggressive way of saying something without having to take responsibility for it. You can't stop people from doing it, but if you'd like to feel better about yourself and your life in general, start checking the habit in yourself.
One simple trick to being more articulate is to focus on behavior rather than people. Like in the boss example, it isn't the person you find objectionable so much as the action. So focus on the action. When you talk about it in your head, make it about what-they-did, not who-they-are. This lifts the energy tremendously.
When you get cut off on the freeway, rather than "Jerk!" or "Asshole!" (which seems to be the default bad-driver insult), it can be "Rude! Rudeness! Don't be rude!"
"He's a friggin flake" can become "He's jerking me around."
"Bad girl" can become "Bad choice."
"They're completely incompetent" can become "What a mess."
It's more accurate, and it releases fewer stress chemicals into your bloodstream. So embrace your inner storyteller, and fashion a cleaner, lighter tale for your friends and brain cells.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The "R" Word
Religion.
To many, this is a very dirty word, inexorably entangled with a host of horrifying concepts, such as rigid morality, social and political oppression, thought police and mindless conformity, not to mention the idea of going to hell, and mutually exclusive to evolved concepts such as constructive doubt, dissent, debate, acceptance, innovation and freedom – freedom of thought, freedom of religion and freedom from religion.
And there are good reasons for this intellectual entanglement. There is a long, long list of atrocities and absurdities committed repeatedly in the name of religion, and we all know it.
Spirituality is often confused with religion by those more keenly aware of religion's darker side, and this is unfortunate. Spirituality isn’t religion and doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with religion, except that religion claims it as their purview.
Spirituality is the experience of sacredness, the experience of the presence of deep meaning, whether related to a deity/deities or not. Sacredness exists, in our experience of love, nature, beauty, death… anything, really.
Religion started as the ritualistic expression of our experience of sacredness, and most religions focus it around a higher power. Ritualistic expression, however, does not necessarily create or maintain the experience of sacredness.
Some religion successfully incorporates spirituality, and some doesn’t. Some people who are uninvolved in religion experience spirituality, and some don’t.
Some people who call themselves agnostics experience plenty of sacredness but don’t find their experience expressed or reflected by any known religion. Then, to add insult to injury, the word agnostic falls onto lists of religious affiliations, but the point is they aren't affiliated. But they aren't atheists, either, not at all.
Being this puzzle piece that just doesn't fit anywhere can be fine and comfortable, or it can feel painful and irreconcilable.
If an agnostic thinks they're supposed to fit in somewhere, but their experience of sacredness doesn't mesh with any religious expression they're exposed to, they can have an uneasy sense that something's wrong with them. They also feel pressure -- because religion is ubiquitous in our culture, you may not notice it until you're trying to practice freedom from it. Resentment builds. Sucks for everyone.
But there's nothing wrong with them. Actually, this experience is pretty normal, and becoming more so. "Spiritual but not religious," I believe, is the popular label.
And this is good. Authenticity gaining ground.
Meanwhile...
Many agnostic/spiritual/undefined people aren’t aware of positive changes in the whole realm of religion, because they don’t have or want any involvement with anything religion-related.
For example, a few years ago, Newsweek published a long story exploring many new and empowering interpretations of women’s roles in the bible.
To many, this is a very dirty word, inexorably entangled with a host of horrifying concepts, such as rigid morality, social and political oppression, thought police and mindless conformity, not to mention the idea of going to hell, and mutually exclusive to evolved concepts such as constructive doubt, dissent, debate, acceptance, innovation and freedom – freedom of thought, freedom of religion and freedom from religion.
And there are good reasons for this intellectual entanglement. There is a long, long list of atrocities and absurdities committed repeatedly in the name of religion, and we all know it.
Spirituality is often confused with religion by those more keenly aware of religion's darker side, and this is unfortunate. Spirituality isn’t religion and doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with religion, except that religion claims it as their purview.
Spirituality is the experience of sacredness, the experience of the presence of deep meaning, whether related to a deity/deities or not. Sacredness exists, in our experience of love, nature, beauty, death… anything, really.
Religion started as the ritualistic expression of our experience of sacredness, and most religions focus it around a higher power. Ritualistic expression, however, does not necessarily create or maintain the experience of sacredness.
Some religion successfully incorporates spirituality, and some doesn’t. Some people who are uninvolved in religion experience spirituality, and some don’t.
Some people who call themselves agnostics experience plenty of sacredness but don’t find their experience expressed or reflected by any known religion. Then, to add insult to injury, the word agnostic falls onto lists of religious affiliations, but the point is they aren't affiliated. But they aren't atheists, either, not at all.
Being this puzzle piece that just doesn't fit anywhere can be fine and comfortable, or it can feel painful and irreconcilable.
If an agnostic thinks they're supposed to fit in somewhere, but their experience of sacredness doesn't mesh with any religious expression they're exposed to, they can have an uneasy sense that something's wrong with them. They also feel pressure -- because religion is ubiquitous in our culture, you may not notice it until you're trying to practice freedom from it. Resentment builds. Sucks for everyone.
But there's nothing wrong with them. Actually, this experience is pretty normal, and becoming more so. "Spiritual but not religious," I believe, is the popular label.
And this is good. Authenticity gaining ground.
Meanwhile...
Many agnostic/spiritual/undefined people aren’t aware of positive changes in the whole realm of religion, because they don’t have or want any involvement with anything religion-related.
For example, a few years ago, Newsweek published a long story exploring many new and empowering interpretations of women’s roles in the bible.
You may want nothing to do with the bible and perhaps you can’t imagine getting any value out of reading the article.
I encourage you to read it anyway, because articulating the unspoken assumptions, myths, rules and mores of our culture is a necessary step in challenging and updating obsolete ideas. These bible scholars are doing just that.
Case in point. The traditional story of the Annunciation says that the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her she would have God’s child. What isn’t often mentioned, except in the obscure mystical traditions that were suppressed long ago, is that Mary was given a choice. She wasn’t told -- she was asked. It wasn’t a command or a duty; it was an opportunity. Blind obedience was not part of the story. Choice, willingness and empowerment were.
Can you imagine if our cultural values emerged from this version of the story, how much different our lives might be?
The bible may be divine, but our interpretations of it are human and therefore always potentially flawed.
If there is a god/God/gods/Gods, we are to bring all of who we are to the relationship -- all our intellect and doubt and intuition and curiosity -- all the gifts and capabilities we are blessed with. We need to come away from the knee-jerk rejection of all things religious, and instead wade knee-deep into the grey area where ideas can be reexamined and reinterpreted.
Perhaps then can we expand the overlap between spirituality and religion.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Curry Disapproval: It's Good for You
Long ago, behavioral psychology articulated and perfected the reward system. Reinforce desired behavior with rewards, and punish undesired behavior, and voila! You’re using behavioral conditioning to train people.
It works very well, and so, as we all know, reward systems are now pervasive, woven into the fabric of our culture and especially into our parenting and schooling norms. They work because we are learning beings, and we are naturally wired to avoid unpleasant stimuli. We are also wired to seek pleasurable stimuli, though this drive is less primitive, and less powerful.
As such, in a reward system, fearing and avoiding punishment is learned quickly and soon becomes a non-issue for most. Got charged $34 for bouncing a check? You probably won’t do it again anytime soon, if you can avoid it.
The middle ground of not being either rewarded or punished should account for the bulk of time represented in the model. It’s the normal zone. People going about their business, living their lives, expressing themselves, connecting with others, playing along – and not bumping into either reward or punishment.
Being rewarded for behavior that is especially desired is on the other end of the spectrum, a narrower slice of life.
Unfortunately, there’s been a twist in the plot. Being overexposed to reward systems as kids amplified and distorted the proportions. The normal zone shrank, and rather than fearing punishment and striving for the occasional reward, we came to fear the absence of reward. Just being normal wasn’t OK. Just being normal disappeared off the map.
Also, notice how in the first paragraph, I didn’t say, “reinforce good behavior” or “punish bad behavior.” I said “desired behavior” – i.e. behavior that the trainer prefers. Our parents and teachers preferred that we sit still and be quiet a lot of the time, but it wasn’t presented as a preference. We were told that it’s what “good” children do.
Rewards became associated with approval and being good, punishment with disapproval and being bad, and the absence of reward also with disapproval and being bad, though more vaguely.
We learned to fear disapproval and to… not want, but need approval. We needed to know that we were good. It’s a basic need of emotional development – the have our goodness mirrored back to us. It getting tied up with approval, though – that’s a negative side effect of the reward system.
In some ways, this whole mess still turns out fine. Needing approval motivates people. It encourages innovation, invention, resourcefulness, creativity. It helps people accomplish more, which helps them feel better about themselves and have a happier life.
But in other ways… it’s bad, very bad. Because now, some of us are grown-ups stuck with a fear of disapproval that has little to do with how “good” or “bad” we are (absurd concepts, both) and nothing to do with actual natural consequences. We've been programmed (literally) to weigh our options and make decisions according to how others will assess our performance. Some of us get over it pretty fast, but many skipped that particular step in college or young adulthood and are still living that way.
I see this on a consistent – nearly daily – basis. Just the idea that someone may disapprove of some possible course of action is enough to make many people cross it off the list. The typical response to such a suggestion is a timid, “I can’t do that,” with a scandalous look; the reasons are considered obvious.
“Go out with a younger man/woman? I can’t do that.”
“Go back to school at my age? I can’t do that.”
Get a tattoo, buy a sports car, move away from the family…
Call someone on their hypocrisy, make someone keep an agreement they made with you... say no (!!!)…
“I can’t do that.”
News flash: If no one ever disapproves of your choices, you aren’t living your life.
It’s your birthright to be disagreed with, to be disapproved of, and to be the target of anger, once in a while.
Natural consequences are life’s teachers – they show us when we’re on- or off-course, and the absence of natural consequences generally means you’re doing fine.
Artificial consequences, like those in reward systems, are just that – artificial, and other people’s approval is an artificial reward. And hearing "I told you so" is an artificial punishment.
[If you're financially or otherwise dependent on someone, and their support depends on their continued approval of your actions, well, you're in a bad spot. That's another topic for another column, but suffice it to say, you've put yourself in a position of powerlessness, and if you can change that, it's worth it, no matter how inconvenient.]
What your choices do for your life, how you then feel about the life you’ve created, and how strong you become in making your own choices, implementing them, and living out the results – these are natural rewards, and all are much more valuable than others’ opinions.
Usually, even the “I told you so” people will end up envying you for having the courage and authority to direct your own life. Because they don’t have it. If they did, they wouldn’t say “I told you so” very often at all.
So, go on. Make the unpopular choice that you deeply suspect is right for you. Curry disfavor. Pay attention to the real consequences, and reap the real rewards.
It works very well, and so, as we all know, reward systems are now pervasive, woven into the fabric of our culture and especially into our parenting and schooling norms. They work because we are learning beings, and we are naturally wired to avoid unpleasant stimuli. We are also wired to seek pleasurable stimuli, though this drive is less primitive, and less powerful.
As such, in a reward system, fearing and avoiding punishment is learned quickly and soon becomes a non-issue for most. Got charged $34 for bouncing a check? You probably won’t do it again anytime soon, if you can avoid it.
The middle ground of not being either rewarded or punished should account for the bulk of time represented in the model. It’s the normal zone. People going about their business, living their lives, expressing themselves, connecting with others, playing along – and not bumping into either reward or punishment.
Being rewarded for behavior that is especially desired is on the other end of the spectrum, a narrower slice of life.
Unfortunately, there’s been a twist in the plot. Being overexposed to reward systems as kids amplified and distorted the proportions. The normal zone shrank, and rather than fearing punishment and striving for the occasional reward, we came to fear the absence of reward. Just being normal wasn’t OK. Just being normal disappeared off the map.
Also, notice how in the first paragraph, I didn’t say, “reinforce good behavior” or “punish bad behavior.” I said “desired behavior” – i.e. behavior that the trainer prefers. Our parents and teachers preferred that we sit still and be quiet a lot of the time, but it wasn’t presented as a preference. We were told that it’s what “good” children do.
Rewards became associated with approval and being good, punishment with disapproval and being bad, and the absence of reward also with disapproval and being bad, though more vaguely.
We learned to fear disapproval and to… not want, but need approval. We needed to know that we were good. It’s a basic need of emotional development – the have our goodness mirrored back to us. It getting tied up with approval, though – that’s a negative side effect of the reward system.
In some ways, this whole mess still turns out fine. Needing approval motivates people. It encourages innovation, invention, resourcefulness, creativity. It helps people accomplish more, which helps them feel better about themselves and have a happier life.
But in other ways… it’s bad, very bad. Because now, some of us are grown-ups stuck with a fear of disapproval that has little to do with how “good” or “bad” we are (absurd concepts, both) and nothing to do with actual natural consequences. We've been programmed (literally) to weigh our options and make decisions according to how others will assess our performance. Some of us get over it pretty fast, but many skipped that particular step in college or young adulthood and are still living that way.
I see this on a consistent – nearly daily – basis. Just the idea that someone may disapprove of some possible course of action is enough to make many people cross it off the list. The typical response to such a suggestion is a timid, “I can’t do that,” with a scandalous look; the reasons are considered obvious.
“Go out with a younger man/woman? I can’t do that.”
“Go back to school at my age? I can’t do that.”
Get a tattoo, buy a sports car, move away from the family…
Call someone on their hypocrisy, make someone keep an agreement they made with you... say no (!!!)…
“I can’t do that.”
News flash: If no one ever disapproves of your choices, you aren’t living your life.
It’s your birthright to be disagreed with, to be disapproved of, and to be the target of anger, once in a while.
Natural consequences are life’s teachers – they show us when we’re on- or off-course, and the absence of natural consequences generally means you’re doing fine.
Artificial consequences, like those in reward systems, are just that – artificial, and other people’s approval is an artificial reward. And hearing "I told you so" is an artificial punishment.
[If you're financially or otherwise dependent on someone, and their support depends on their continued approval of your actions, well, you're in a bad spot. That's another topic for another column, but suffice it to say, you've put yourself in a position of powerlessness, and if you can change that, it's worth it, no matter how inconvenient.]
What your choices do for your life, how you then feel about the life you’ve created, and how strong you become in making your own choices, implementing them, and living out the results – these are natural rewards, and all are much more valuable than others’ opinions.
Usually, even the “I told you so” people will end up envying you for having the courage and authority to direct your own life. Because they don’t have it. If they did, they wouldn’t say “I told you so” very often at all.
So, go on. Make the unpopular choice that you deeply suspect is right for you. Curry disfavor. Pay attention to the real consequences, and reap the real rewards.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
There's No Magic Pill for Grief
What if eternity lay before you, brimming with love, friends, and laughter? Yet still, one day, in all your radiance, bubbling over with giddy excitement, you tripped, fell, and got hurt--really hurt. Would you give up on all of your dreams? Would you hate yourself? Would you forget life's magic and promise? Or would you shrug it off, look ahead, and exclaim that it's "just a flesh wound"?
~ Notes from the Universe
This is the kind of thing that gives personal growth a bad name.
It's a much-lamented truth of our current media environment that sound bites rule, and complexity needs to get over its complexity and be simple. Ambiguity is unwelcome. If it doesn't boil down, it must not be very valuable or important.
Clearly, I disagree.
We are complex. We are ambiguous. And if we were able to shrug off our griefs and declare them to be "just flesh wounds," we would have.
It's wishful, magical thinking, that we can just wave a magic wand, or say a magic word, and poof. We're healed. Once in a long while, this may work. But 99.99% of the time, it's just not that simple.
Unresolved grief underlies so many psychological challenges. It's the dirty little secret of our culture. To get through grief means to go through it, but slowing down, taking time, being less than shiny for a while isn't tolerated well--not by us individually, and not by the societal programming we're steeped in.
Individually, well... grief hurts! It hurts deeply. It strips us down to a raw core and shackles us with the fact of our vulnerability, and then we're just there, in that state, in pain, minutes feeling like days, desperate for escape. Who would choose that? So we become accomplished psychological contortionists, wiggling out of any tight spot where grief may corner us. We hear its footsteps, and we find an excuse to be elsewhere. We're master avoiders.
Societally, we value productivity--being effective, efficient, keeping up. It's hard to break pace even to get over a cold or flu, and in fact, most people don't--they just manage their symptoms with pills and go to work anyway.
The quote above is the psychological equivalent of taking a pill. And it's a welcome pill, a pill people are overjoyed to swallow. Great news! There's an easy answer! Some part of us knows better, but we push it aside. Why would we go through grief when we don't have to?
Yeah, OK, we don't have to, but there's a cost.
Unresolved grief comes out in passive aggressive behavior. In control addiction. In alcohol and drug abuse. In anger and rage. It comes out in neurotic parenting, and unhealthy marriage dynamics, and irresponsible spending. It comes out, one way or another. It comes out.
If you don't relate to this, if you've never had any intimacy issues or avoided people or situations that may cause you to feel some emotion, and you never behave defensively or passive aggressively, congratulations. You've either faced, embraced and suffered through your grief (kudos), or you've never experienced loss, be it a loved one or a dream or a dearly held belief about yourself. Either way, you're not normal.
There's no right or wrong here. If you decide to face your grief, you decide when and with whom (unless it's chosen for you with a new episode). If you'd prefer to live with the psychological side effects and inexplicable relationship problems that come with unresolved grief, that is absolutely your privilege. I mean that.
But don't tell yourself you can "shrug it off" if you can't. If you could have, you would have.
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