Archive for the ‘My Thoughts’ Category

Defining Success: Milestones, Directions, Intentions, and …

Thursday, March 12th, 2009

A few years back, I was at a men’s retreat with my dad.  One of the activities was to climb a 30-foot pole (like a telephone pole), climb onto a 1′x2′ platform, stand up, and jump for a trapeze bar a few feet away.  Having donned a harness and a helmet (safety first!), I climbed the pole with no problem.  Getting onto the platform – problem.  A 30-foot pole with me on top tends to wiggle.  There’s nothing to hold onto, every ounce of body fat seems to get in the way, and in most cases you have little choice but to be looking down while doing it.  I could get one foot onto the platform, but just didn’t have the strength in the right places to pull the other one up.  After a couple of attempts, my toe caught on the edge, I lost my balance, and pitched off to the side.  As I was lowered down by the safety line/harness (thankful I had adjusted it correctly!), a defense mechanism kicked in.

I wanted to “succeed”.  I didn’t want to “fail”.  I wanted to protect my ego.  So, I redefined success from standing on the top or catching the suspended bar to “doing my best” and getting as far as I could.  I did this to protect my ego from “failure”, and even as I did it, I knew there was an element of denial and self-deception at work.  I knew it was a lie.  I had failed. Yes, I did my best, and more than most people would try.  But this was not how I had defined success when setting my  intention – and expectation.  I had “redefined” it retro-actively once I knew the outcome. I even remember telling my dad that I had learned that when you re-define success to whatever outcome is achieved, then you are always successful.  It does avoid some pain, but at the cost of deeper truth.

To the extent that we define success according to things we don’t control, success is also beyond our control. 

Most of the time, success is defined as a goal or milestone.  Get the job done.  Make it happen.  Are we there, yet?  The truth is that every goal I can imagine has elements that we don’t control.  The actions of others, the butterfly effect, even the chemistry of our own brains and bodies.  A billion different factors come into play, yet if the criteria for success are met, we generally take credit.  If not, we start looking for one of those factors to blame, or ignore them to blame ourselves.

As a fallback, we may define success as a direction.  But, try walking against the wind in a hurricane, or improving a marriage when one partner would rather not.  It’s perhaps easier and more likely to succeed, but still relies on complicit factors beyond our control.  Even intentions are subject to brain chemistry and psychological health.

In it’s purest sense, the only success we can truly have is “to be”.  To exist as we are.  Even acceptance of “what is” over what we want is a success that relies on the complex web of interactions we call “past experience”.

But, we still find that we need the traditional concepts of success.  We need them to communicate, to organize, and to motivate – both ourselves and others.  In order to meet the practical needs and aspects of life, we have to enter that fantasy world of milestones, goals, directions, intentions, and all the make-believe that comes with it.  For all it’s illusory and fictitious nature, it is still useful – even necessary.

My advice, though, is not to confuse it with reality.  Apply it where it works and suspend it where it doesn’t.  Set goals with the knowledge that they are an imaginary construct useful for accomplishing things that are just as non-real and illusory, but just as useful.  As a result, we can release the strings that tie ego to the success or failure of these useful illusions.  Accept the you that “is”, absent of any criteria and what must be borrowed to even apply them.  They aren’t really yours, anyway.

So, given the chance, I will attempt to climb another 30′ pole, stand on another 1′x2′ platform, and jump for another bar.  I may “succeed”, and I may “fail”.  Or perhaps I will suspend both and give myself over to experience and truly live.

Summarizing Shame

Monday, January 19th, 2009

Recently on Facebook, I mentioned that this year’s theme will be “The Abolition of Shame”.  I wasn’t sure what kind of response it would get because so many people either don’t even recognize shame, or think it is entirely appropriate.  A friend of mine from jr. high school, who I’ve observed as a brilliant and creative thinker, responded, “So you won’t be using phrases like, ‘Shame on you!’ ?”

I thought about this over the weekend, and finally put down a few thoughts.  There is so much more to be written on this, but here’s how I responded.

Well, “Shame on you” has never been part of my repertoire, but no, I won’t. Similarly, statements like, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” are, in my opinion, incredibly violent emotionally.

The whole concept of shame is that, according to some standard, we *ought* not be who we are right now. Some people would argue that shame refers to what we do, not who we are, but it is a false distinction. We act and choose based on our desires, which are heavily influenced by our values and perception of things. These are what make us who we are, and what we do is an extension of them. We often see ourselves with two sets of desires, “what we want” and “what we want to want” (or aspirations), but again, they are all part of us.

When we split off the things we don’t want to want/do and say they aren’t really us, or should be, we’ve stepped into the fantasy land of denial and shame, respectively. We no longer see things as they are, but how we wish they were.

If we are honest with ourselves, what shame tells us is that something about the past and present failed to meet our expectations. Unfortunately, reality is rather unforgiving. The past and present simply don’t change to meet our expectations, so which one is wrong? Factually, reality wins every time.

Because shame is the result of reality’s intrusion on our expectations, is there any way to defend it’s right to exist? I don’t think so, but let’s try. Let’s say I commit a crime, and the judge says, “You should be ashamed of yourself!” Because I should know better? I did, and it didn’t stop me. Because it was irresponsible? Sure, but it didn’t stop me. Because it hurt someone else? Sure, but it didn’t stop me. These are all things that the speaker believes would have stopped them, and perhaps would have. What’s ironic is when we are both the speaker and the perpetrator. We expected these things to stop ourselves, but they didn’t. So what’s a person to do?

For starters, observe that there is no difference between who/what we are, and who/what we should be. In effect, there is no “should” where the present and past and are concerned. There is only “is” (or was). When we replace our expectations with observation, the byproduct of shame goes away, along with disappointment, and a whole host of other negativity.

For the future, expectations evolve into a combination of strategic actions in the present, and a willingness to accept the limitations of what those actions can bring about.

The hardest part of abolishing shame in my own behavior, though, is what happens when I fail to do so. When I express disappointment over myself or another and tell them they don’t measure up. I have to then accept my own failure as what is, and therefore what should have been. When I accept it, and myself, only then can I turn my failure in to success and prepare myself for the next challenge.

I hope to write a lot more about this in the coming year.

Dumping Dualism – or at least putting it in its place

Thursday, September 18th, 2008

Dualism is a term used to describe the act of separating experiences or things into two groups: good and bad.  Different people use different criteria for sorting things into these groups, so you might recognize them more as right and wrong, good and evil, dark and light, black and white, desirable and undesirable, friend and enemy, or something like that.  In reality, most of us also have a third category which is neutral, or perhaps we see it as a spectrum where something can be some mix of the two, but even that is a result of measuring the thing against some dualistic standard.

So, if dualism roughly equates to right and wrong, and I’m suggesting that we dump dualism, then am I suggesting that there is no right and wrong, no morality, or that we must each determine for ourselves what is right and wrong (aka. moral relativism)?  Well, no.  (Even moral relativism is itself a dualistic perspective, just one that is determined by each individual for themselves rather than according to some standard.)

In order to understand what I’m suggesting, it is important to realize that dualism – any form of it – is a tool that we use to label things in our experience.  It is a frame of reference, or filter, that we place over our experience.  The difference between a good day and a bad day is how I apply dualistic measures to the things that happened in that day.  You might agree that my day was good or bad after hearing my experience, but only if we apply similar dualistic filters.  (One person may see adversity as a setback where another sees a growth opportunity or a challenge.)  And the same day that was bad for me might have been really good for you.  Certainly, then, dualism has its uses when we are trying to communicate our perspective to somebody else, but most of us live our lives enslaved to our dualism.

For most of us, a bad day doesn’t make us happy, secure, and optimistic.  For most of us, the dualistic labels that we apply to things reinforce, or even determine, how we experience them, and justify the actions that we take as a result.  For example, let’s assume that a person learns that their partner has cheated on them.  For most people, the immediate result is anger (from betrayal), shame (from powerlessness), rejection (of value), fear (of loss or isolation), and a lot of other things.  Note that each of these emotional response are the product of our dualistic interpretation of what happened – the partner had an intimate relationship with somebody else.  Note the difference between “they had an intimate relationship with somebody else” and “That #$^& @!%^ cheated on me!”  Some might react from religious dualism Christians and say, “They have sinned against me and against God, violating the sanctity of marriage!”  On the other hand, the other person in the affair might simply say, “Wow, that was totally awesome!!”.

In each case, the difference between what happened and how it is experienced by each person is a dualistic filter.  Are these filters wrong?  No (that would be a dualistic filter about dualistic filters).  They simply highlight a particular set of interpretations in isolation of all others.  Depending on how closely our filters match each of these people, we might identify with one or more of their perspectives.  Sometimes those filters are useful.  They can help us communicate, and motivate us to take action or make changes.

But, they are not always useful.  If our filters are too different, they can impede communication.  When they are rigidly applied across the board they tend to prevent growth and insight, and in some cases result in serious fallout.  Consider the dualistic filter that we often apply to addiction – that it is primarily a moral failing to be cured through punishment rather than a physiological condition to be treated as such.  The shame and isolation that often result from applying this filter to this situation is often devastating and  has prevented addicts from seeking recovery, or even admitting its existence.  The point here is not what you and I believe about addiction, but that not all filters are applicable to all situations.  They have an affect, but not always one that leads us to a greater understanding of reality.

Sometimes a filter is applied where it doesn’t really fit, and something good happens.  That’s called “luck”.  It’s no guarantee that it will work out well the next time around.  If we like the filter (maybe it makes us “right” and others “wrong” more often), we tend to say it worked when we get lucky, and blame something else when we don’t.

And then, there is “going commando”.  Observing an event without applying a filter.  Drink it straight and drink it all.  In the case of our victim of infidelity, this would mean stepping back and observing that “my partner had an intimate relationship with somebody else” … and then stopping.  Like a frozen moment in time.  The filter has not yet been applied and all options are still on the table.  Rather than being propelled into a state of shame, blame, and revenge, you are free to choose your course, your filter. You could instead choose compassion for the partner who is trying to meet a need (probably without success).  You could begin with the position that shame has no value in your life, and look for a deeper meaning where you are not the victim, or perhaps you decide that your most appropriate course of action is to throw a drink in their face, stomp on their toe, and move out.  Certainly if there is the threat of violence, creating distance might be a very wise move.

The point, though, is that once you have discarded dualism as the only way to see the world (or just your own pet filters), a range of possibilities suddenly open up, and you will find that you have more energy to perform the actions you do choose.  You will have more emotional reserves to draw upon, and you will experience less frustration and stress.  (BTW, frustration and stress are pretty good indicators that your current set of filters are somehow inappropriate to the situation, maybe a little or a lot.)

It’s not always possible to know the correct filters to use in a given situation.  In some cases you may not have one that works, and this is where dualism dumping has the most value.  Don’t apply a filter.  Simply be present with the event and allow it to be what it is, and accept it as such.  The filters we learned growing up, how we learned to apply them, and the events we encounter all help determine how easy or hard it will be to step back and disassociate from our filters, to realize that my filters don’t define me, but that I define my filters.  However difficult it is for you, or however late in life you are coming to the realization is OK.  You don’t finish a race until you’ve run it and each runner’s experience is their own.

So, start by listening to your own thoughts and feelings, and relaxing when you want to pass judgment.  Just observe, and be present with yourself and your own mind.  Then, practice extending what you learn to the world around you.

God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything

Friday, June 22nd, 2007

I’ve not read this book, just the title. Already, though, I can point out a major flaw in the author’s reasoning. The author assumes that the two statements are related, implying that since (from his perspective) religion poisons everything, God is therefore not great.

But do the actions of humans determine God’s greatness? You would have to begin with the assumption that God is nothing more than a sociological phenomenon created to satisfy human wants and needs; purely an extension of created by humans. Unfortunately for the author, categorically disproving the existence of something (in this case, God) is pretty tricky stuff. At best, you can claim that “Based on my experience and all credible evidence I’ve seen …” Of course, if you only consider evidence to be credible when it supports your hypothesis, you’re practicing delusion, not logic. Another approach would be to say, “I’ve not seen any evidence to support …” Even so, that leaves room for the existence of all manner of things that are outside of your perception.

My experiences (real or imagined) have left me with the distinct belief that there is a God who is an actual being, though quite different in nature from us. I’m humble enough to admit that I could be wrong, though, and what I call personal anecdotal evidence is nothing more than false perception and misunderstanding. I don’t see how, which is what forms my belief, but admit the possibility.

Along those lines, I’ve observed that atheists fall into one of two categories: those who lack of credible evidence (implicit atheists), and those who are unwilling to believe (deliberate atheists). A person could also be both (have no evidence, and would reject it even it they did). I’ve noticed that deliberate atheists tend to get very emotional when debating God/religion, and practice logically inconsistent thinking that they would never practice or accept in any other context. Bertrand Russell is one who comes to mind. In most cases, atheists who categorically reject the possibility of God as a sentient being are deliberate atheists.

The funny thing is that believers fall into the same two categories, for the same reasons. And they react in much the same way. When they run out of rational arguments, they reach for the next ones in line. Rather than examining their own experience and evidence, they launch attacks on others’.

Rather than saying that religion poisons everything, I would assert that the deliberate element in any religion (or anti-religion) has the tendency to poison things. Meanwhile, the implicit elements sit down for a nice dinner with stimulating conversation and respectful debate. At the end of the night, they evaluate what they’ve learned and perhaps tune their own position … or not. Either way, they see their beliefs as the path of their discoveries thus far rather than a direction for future conquest.

Oh, and when humans do stupid things, blame the humans, not God.