Emotions
Split the difference
30/03/10 14:45
Let’s face it: life is rarely black and white. You meet someone, you like them, it all feels good, then they do something unexpected that makes you wonder what you ever saw in them.
You plan a purchase, pay, take the item home, try it out, but a few weeks later it just looks shabby.
Worst of all is when someone you hate does something unexpectedly nice, and you find yourself SOOO wanting to dismiss it as the exception that proves the rule.
What about YOU? Are you a good person, or a bad person?
If you bit the bullet and answered “both”, then you’re taking what’s called the ‘depressive position’. This is a way of looking at people that allows for contradictions, such as that they have good parts and bad parts, and if they do something hurtful this doesn’t mean THEY are a hurtful person. Or: You don’t need to keep doing good things in order to be a good person.
I like to think that this compassionate way of looking at things is called the ‘depressive position’ because it’s a bit sad to accept that in life things aren’t clear-cut: life always finds a way to be more complicated than you thought it was (*sigh*). Many Buddhist philosophies seem to reflect this way of looking at things. A Buddhist quote I once heard: “If your compassion doesn’t include yourself, it is incomplete.” This sits nicely with the other Buddhist-type observation that “life is pain and suffering”.
By comparison, if you find yourself using what a person does to judge who they are, then you’re engaging in something called ‘splitting’. This may be useful if you’re angry, and want to take a strong stance on something, or resist someone else’s pressure (“no, I won’t do that, it would be just wrong!”); however it may be problematic if you get bogged down in this way of looking at things. You may find yourself having to resort to magical thinking in order to cope with what’s happened. Splitting can also be problematic when it’s positive: think of the jeopardy cult members place themselves in when they choose to see their cult leaders as perfect, and incapable of harm (and everyone else as either evil or blind).
Basically, the safest position to take is... both. When things are generally ok and you feel like life’s on track, take a compassionate view of people, and don’t be fooled into thinking that what a person does in any given moment defines who they are. When things are tough, and you feel under pressure, take a strong position, and don’t be fooled into thinking that just because people are complex, doesn’t mean they can get away with doing hurtful things. Incidentally: this is also the safest attitude to take toward yourself: when others are happy, be compassionate toward yourself. When others are upset, try to be flexible. You can always switch back to a more self-interested position later if it doesn’t work out.
You plan a purchase, pay, take the item home, try it out, but a few weeks later it just looks shabby.
Worst of all is when someone you hate does something unexpectedly nice, and you find yourself SOOO wanting to dismiss it as the exception that proves the rule.
What about YOU? Are you a good person, or a bad person?
If you bit the bullet and answered “both”, then you’re taking what’s called the ‘depressive position’. This is a way of looking at people that allows for contradictions, such as that they have good parts and bad parts, and if they do something hurtful this doesn’t mean THEY are a hurtful person. Or: You don’t need to keep doing good things in order to be a good person.
I like to think that this compassionate way of looking at things is called the ‘depressive position’ because it’s a bit sad to accept that in life things aren’t clear-cut: life always finds a way to be more complicated than you thought it was (*sigh*). Many Buddhist philosophies seem to reflect this way of looking at things. A Buddhist quote I once heard: “If your compassion doesn’t include yourself, it is incomplete.” This sits nicely with the other Buddhist-type observation that “life is pain and suffering”.
By comparison, if you find yourself using what a person does to judge who they are, then you’re engaging in something called ‘splitting’. This may be useful if you’re angry, and want to take a strong stance on something, or resist someone else’s pressure (“no, I won’t do that, it would be just wrong!”); however it may be problematic if you get bogged down in this way of looking at things. You may find yourself having to resort to magical thinking in order to cope with what’s happened. Splitting can also be problematic when it’s positive: think of the jeopardy cult members place themselves in when they choose to see their cult leaders as perfect, and incapable of harm (and everyone else as either evil or blind).
Basically, the safest position to take is... both. When things are generally ok and you feel like life’s on track, take a compassionate view of people, and don’t be fooled into thinking that what a person does in any given moment defines who they are. When things are tough, and you feel under pressure, take a strong position, and don’t be fooled into thinking that just because people are complex, doesn’t mean they can get away with doing hurtful things. Incidentally: this is also the safest attitude to take toward yourself: when others are happy, be compassionate toward yourself. When others are upset, try to be flexible. You can always switch back to a more self-interested position later if it doesn’t work out.
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Ctrl-Alt-Delete
22/02/10 14:42
If you use a PC, you’ll probably be familiar with the ‘Control-Alt-Delete’ key combination. If your computer freezes or becomes somehow stuck, pressing these three keys all at once on the keyboard will allow you to reset the computer; it will shut down, then restart, returning to its original state, as if nothing bad had happened, just like magic. The only problem is, if you didn’t save your work in permanent memory, that work will be forgotten, along with the glitch that got the computer stuck in the first place.
Control, Alt, Delete. If only relationships were so simple. Jerry Seinfeld jokes in one of his stand-up comedy routines about needing a set director in some of his conversations - someone in a flak jacket who can march into the middle of the interaction, yell “cut!!” and get the two people to “start that scene again.” Meanwhile, you may have someone you know who really does try to re-write history, by exploding or shutting down a conversation, then ringing you up days later, and acting as if the altercation never took place. In relationships, this editing of reality may also come after a period of ‘silent treatment’.
In his mighty psychoanalytic tome, ‘The Primitive Edge of Experience’, Thomas Ogden recounts a patient who “often would laugh and say that he was only kidding after having said something extremely cruel to his wife. Having said, ‘you know I was only kidding,’ he felt that he had undone the damage by magically changing the assault into something humorous (just by re-naming it). When his wife refused to participate in this magical rewriting of history, the patient would escalate his efforts at joviality and begin to treat her with contempt, accusing her of being a baby for not being able to ‘take it.’”
Magical thinking is in this case a defence that we might use to avoid feeling guilty about having hurt someone; or we may simply feel the need to re-write history because we forget the role of repair in relationships. It is inevitable that sooner or later in a relationship, one person is going to upset the other. So many problems in relationships occur when the couple is unable to repair this hurt. Typically, effective repair in relationships involves use of the word “sorry” - but repair can take many shapes and sizes.
Try it yourself: next time you feel like hitting the ‘delete’ button in an interaction, try repairing (start by saying ‘sorry’, even if you don’t feel sorry), and see whether the situation can be recovered after all. That way, you won’t have to lose all the good work you’ve done up to that point. Who knows, you might even get a “sorry” back from the other person!
Control, Alt, Delete. If only relationships were so simple. Jerry Seinfeld jokes in one of his stand-up comedy routines about needing a set director in some of his conversations - someone in a flak jacket who can march into the middle of the interaction, yell “cut!!” and get the two people to “start that scene again.” Meanwhile, you may have someone you know who really does try to re-write history, by exploding or shutting down a conversation, then ringing you up days later, and acting as if the altercation never took place. In relationships, this editing of reality may also come after a period of ‘silent treatment’.
In his mighty psychoanalytic tome, ‘The Primitive Edge of Experience’, Thomas Ogden recounts a patient who “often would laugh and say that he was only kidding after having said something extremely cruel to his wife. Having said, ‘you know I was only kidding,’ he felt that he had undone the damage by magically changing the assault into something humorous (just by re-naming it). When his wife refused to participate in this magical rewriting of history, the patient would escalate his efforts at joviality and begin to treat her with contempt, accusing her of being a baby for not being able to ‘take it.’”
Magical thinking is in this case a defence that we might use to avoid feeling guilty about having hurt someone; or we may simply feel the need to re-write history because we forget the role of repair in relationships. It is inevitable that sooner or later in a relationship, one person is going to upset the other. So many problems in relationships occur when the couple is unable to repair this hurt. Typically, effective repair in relationships involves use of the word “sorry” - but repair can take many shapes and sizes.
Try it yourself: next time you feel like hitting the ‘delete’ button in an interaction, try repairing (start by saying ‘sorry’, even if you don’t feel sorry), and see whether the situation can be recovered after all. That way, you won’t have to lose all the good work you’ve done up to that point. Who knows, you might even get a “sorry” back from the other person!
Dummy Cravings
04/02/10 14:58
Here’s how it works: children are discouraged from being ‘greedy’. Parents are criticized for ‘spoiling’ children. We are all familiar with the idea of ‘guilty pleasure’. Indulging yourself is a ‘treat’. The message here seems to be that the feeling of craving something is somehow shameful. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there is nothing wrong with wanting. It’s not naughty, or special, or a treat, or secret, or wicked, or any of the other things that wanting is frequently associated with. It’s just a feeling: a feeling that we all have from time to time.
In fact, wanting is actually the early stages of anger. Yes, you read it right. Consider: You have a craving for chocolate, or some other pleasurable thing. You go looking for it, and it’s not there for some unexpected reason. How do you feel? Outraged! Can you recall a moment when you went looking for your keys, and they weren’t there, right where you left them, and moments later you’re stomping around the house, huffing and puffing and furious that things are never where you put them… It’s interesting that such behaviour is sometimes called a ‘dummy-spit’. Dummies, or pacifiers, are a good example of how mouth satisfaction can be used to dampen emotion down from a very early age. So if you are feeling irritable about something then you may find yourself using pleasure to dampen your anger down. Whether it’s food, drink, or masturbation, a pleasurable activity can also be a quick way to deal with feelings of irritability, frustration, or even longing. Try it for yourself: next time you feel like a treat of some sort, set your watch for 10 minutes and wait. See what your anger does.
The main problem with using pleasure to eliminate anger is that anger is probably the most useful emotion you have. Anger is the driver of most the things you do to take care of yourself in the world, particularly if it involves other people in some way. Think of the anger of Martin Luther King, or of Winston Churchill. Anger is good. Without it, bad things happen. The word we use to describe our own helpful anger-driven behaviour is ‘assertiveness’. So before you reach for the bikkie tin, consider if there’s something you might be irked about: will satisfying yourself in private undermine your ability to be bold in public?
In fact, wanting is actually the early stages of anger. Yes, you read it right. Consider: You have a craving for chocolate, or some other pleasurable thing. You go looking for it, and it’s not there for some unexpected reason. How do you feel? Outraged! Can you recall a moment when you went looking for your keys, and they weren’t there, right where you left them, and moments later you’re stomping around the house, huffing and puffing and furious that things are never where you put them… It’s interesting that such behaviour is sometimes called a ‘dummy-spit’. Dummies, or pacifiers, are a good example of how mouth satisfaction can be used to dampen emotion down from a very early age. So if you are feeling irritable about something then you may find yourself using pleasure to dampen your anger down. Whether it’s food, drink, or masturbation, a pleasurable activity can also be a quick way to deal with feelings of irritability, frustration, or even longing. Try it for yourself: next time you feel like a treat of some sort, set your watch for 10 minutes and wait. See what your anger does.
The main problem with using pleasure to eliminate anger is that anger is probably the most useful emotion you have. Anger is the driver of most the things you do to take care of yourself in the world, particularly if it involves other people in some way. Think of the anger of Martin Luther King, or of Winston Churchill. Anger is good. Without it, bad things happen. The word we use to describe our own helpful anger-driven behaviour is ‘assertiveness’. So before you reach for the bikkie tin, consider if there’s something you might be irked about: will satisfying yourself in private undermine your ability to be bold in public?
understanding pleasure
08/11/09 20:19
What is the most truly satisfying experience a person can have?
Everyone will answer that question differently, of course, but most will think of their own sources of satisfaction when coming up with an answer. One person’s nectar is another one’s poison, as the saying goes. But when it comes to gratification, nearly all of us can be divided into two categories: The seekers of pleasure, and the seekers of understanding. In your circle of acquaintances, you will know of both types. The pleasure-seeker is typically bold, effective, and appreciates the finer things in life. The understanding-seeker may be more reflective, patient, well-liked, and be the kind of person you’d ring if your dog has just died.
Pleasure-seekers are not selfish people; in fact most pleasure-seekers are keen to share their sources of pleasure around. They enhance their pleasure by seeing other people enjoy what they enjoy. This is an important aspect of satisfaction, whatever the type: we tend to give to others what we most want for ourselves. This means that pleasure-seekers may give generously to charity, or to friends and family, but will do so in the hope (conscious or unconscious) that what they give will be returned to them in kind. The saying ‘you scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours’ is the kind of thing you’re likely to hear from a pleasure-seeker. Meanwhile, your kind and caring aunt, the one who seems to shower everyone around her with patience, goodwill and empathy, may be overcome with delight if her compassion is returned. She’s more likely to say “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
There are ideal role-models for each type of person: Three archetypal understanding-seekers are Gandhi, Jesus Christ, and (closer to home) Greens MP Bob Brown. We tend to see these people as giving more than they receive, and as putting compassion above other values. Such people may be loved by some for their humanity, but resented by others (particularly pleasure-seekers) for being unrealistic or having a holier-than-thou selflessness. Meanwhile three standout examples of pleasure-seekers are Richard Branson, The Cat in the Hat, and whoever the winner of the latest reality TV show is. These folks are loved for their ability to have fun and share the fun. We don’t expect them to heal the world, or to cure cancer, as long as they don’t try to take credit for things they didn’t do.
And this is the curious thing about pleasure vs. understanding as a way of finding fulfilment: we don’t seem to be able to combine the two. Can you think of any powerful yet understanding people? Barack Obama seemed to come to power on a wave of understanding, and many are now struggling to reconcile some of the decisions he has made with their idea of him as a person who understands the true problems his constituents face. Meanwhile, the quickest way a pleasure-seeker can fall from grace is to get themselves into a situation where they need understanding - Britney Spears, anyone?
We tend to see people as either compassionate or fun, and struggle to accept people who are both. We prefer to see the inventors of Google, or the head of Greenpeace, or our next door neighbour as either acting in self-interest, or thinking of others, but not both. We may be cynical about a movie star who travels to a third-world country, or a pillar of the community who is discovered to have particular sexual predilections. In my view, the only way to find happiness is to find room in your life for both yourself and others.
So, are you a pleasure-seeker or a seeker of understanding? The path you take to satisfaction is probably most strongly influenced by the sources of satisfaction you found in childhood: did you get lots of understanding as a kid, or did you have to find your own fun? As an adult, if you can’t get no satisfaction, try living how the other half live: Pleasure-seekers, trade in your fancy car and head down to the local soup kitchen. Compassionate people, why not hire a convertible sportscar for the weekend and drive to an expensive restaurant? You may discover avenues to satisfaction that you though were out of your league.
Everyone will answer that question differently, of course, but most will think of their own sources of satisfaction when coming up with an answer. One person’s nectar is another one’s poison, as the saying goes. But when it comes to gratification, nearly all of us can be divided into two categories: The seekers of pleasure, and the seekers of understanding. In your circle of acquaintances, you will know of both types. The pleasure-seeker is typically bold, effective, and appreciates the finer things in life. The understanding-seeker may be more reflective, patient, well-liked, and be the kind of person you’d ring if your dog has just died.
Pleasure-seekers are not selfish people; in fact most pleasure-seekers are keen to share their sources of pleasure around. They enhance their pleasure by seeing other people enjoy what they enjoy. This is an important aspect of satisfaction, whatever the type: we tend to give to others what we most want for ourselves. This means that pleasure-seekers may give generously to charity, or to friends and family, but will do so in the hope (conscious or unconscious) that what they give will be returned to them in kind. The saying ‘you scratch my back and i’ll scratch yours’ is the kind of thing you’re likely to hear from a pleasure-seeker. Meanwhile, your kind and caring aunt, the one who seems to shower everyone around her with patience, goodwill and empathy, may be overcome with delight if her compassion is returned. She’s more likely to say “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”
There are ideal role-models for each type of person: Three archetypal understanding-seekers are Gandhi, Jesus Christ, and (closer to home) Greens MP Bob Brown. We tend to see these people as giving more than they receive, and as putting compassion above other values. Such people may be loved by some for their humanity, but resented by others (particularly pleasure-seekers) for being unrealistic or having a holier-than-thou selflessness. Meanwhile three standout examples of pleasure-seekers are Richard Branson, The Cat in the Hat, and whoever the winner of the latest reality TV show is. These folks are loved for their ability to have fun and share the fun. We don’t expect them to heal the world, or to cure cancer, as long as they don’t try to take credit for things they didn’t do.
And this is the curious thing about pleasure vs. understanding as a way of finding fulfilment: we don’t seem to be able to combine the two. Can you think of any powerful yet understanding people? Barack Obama seemed to come to power on a wave of understanding, and many are now struggling to reconcile some of the decisions he has made with their idea of him as a person who understands the true problems his constituents face. Meanwhile, the quickest way a pleasure-seeker can fall from grace is to get themselves into a situation where they need understanding - Britney Spears, anyone?
We tend to see people as either compassionate or fun, and struggle to accept people who are both. We prefer to see the inventors of Google, or the head of Greenpeace, or our next door neighbour as either acting in self-interest, or thinking of others, but not both. We may be cynical about a movie star who travels to a third-world country, or a pillar of the community who is discovered to have particular sexual predilections. In my view, the only way to find happiness is to find room in your life for both yourself and others.
So, are you a pleasure-seeker or a seeker of understanding? The path you take to satisfaction is probably most strongly influenced by the sources of satisfaction you found in childhood: did you get lots of understanding as a kid, or did you have to find your own fun? As an adult, if you can’t get no satisfaction, try living how the other half live: Pleasure-seekers, trade in your fancy car and head down to the local soup kitchen. Compassionate people, why not hire a convertible sportscar for the weekend and drive to an expensive restaurant? You may discover avenues to satisfaction that you though were out of your league.
Undertow
06/11/09 12:33
Going to the beach was always something she’d enjoyed, albeit with a little apprehension. Something about the quiet roar of the waves, the occasional spectre of bluebottles, or perhaps the jokes people sometimes make about sharks.
As a child she’d sat and paddled in the wet sand, watched people bake in the sun, and, as she got older, enjoyed wandering up and down the waterline, her eyes combing the foam, flotsam and jetsam that last night’s storm had dislodged from somewhere out to sea.
As an adult, she would swim into the waves, feeling the push and surge against her chest; the shifting sands underfoot. Then one day she found herself being drawn strongly against the flow of the waves. She began to swim back to shore, and the effort tired her all to quickly. Before she knew it, the safe familiarity of the shoreline looked smaller and more distant than she had ever seen it.
She swam and swam, feeling growing shame and dread as she sensed a losing battle with the current. She didn’t want to be one of those foolish-looking people who let the surf get the better of them - she’d always been a confident swimmer. Even as she panted and pulled against the relentless rip, she chuckled at how ridiculous the situation had suddenly become. A surfer paddled over to her. “Are you ok? You need help?” “No,” she puffed irritably. “Maybe I should call the lifeguard,” he said. “I’m fine, I know how to swim,” she countered, and began to stroke harder against the tide.
A lifeguard on a board appeared beside her. “I don’t need help. I’m just caught in a rip I think. I can swim back, just when this lot of waves passes,” she spluttered as another broke over her. The beach was looking so distant now. A wave of sadness rose in her, as she felt the longing to be back on the firm sand.
“Help!” she yelled, and the lifeguard began to pull her onto the board. “Paddle with me back to the shore. When a wave comes, paddle harder,” he stated. Tired as she was, she began to paddle. After a minute or two, she was just so tired. She lay down and rested on the board. “Keep paddling, or I’ll have to leave you behind!” said the lifeguard. “I can’t,” she sobbed. She found herself back in the water, drifting further out to sea. She was crying freely now, certain that this current would not let go of her.
That’s when a voice she could not place began to speak softly to her. “Sometimes this happens. Let the current carry you. Swim with it if you can.” “I’m scared. I’m drowning,” she thought to herself. “You are safe if you don’t struggle.” murmured the weird voice. “Sure, and I’ll get carried out to sea forever,” she mused. “Not forever. for as long as it takes,” sounded the voice.
And so she gave up and let the current take her. Within what seemed like a few seconds, she found herself becalmed. The beach seemed a long way distant, and the rows of waves between her and the sand, but she could only hear a soft murmur of the surf. The current had brought her to deeper water, and she felt a strange peace. The disembodied voice spoke again: “where do you want to go now?”
“Home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Here.”
As a child she’d sat and paddled in the wet sand, watched people bake in the sun, and, as she got older, enjoyed wandering up and down the waterline, her eyes combing the foam, flotsam and jetsam that last night’s storm had dislodged from somewhere out to sea.
As an adult, she would swim into the waves, feeling the push and surge against her chest; the shifting sands underfoot. Then one day she found herself being drawn strongly against the flow of the waves. She began to swim back to shore, and the effort tired her all to quickly. Before she knew it, the safe familiarity of the shoreline looked smaller and more distant than she had ever seen it.
She swam and swam, feeling growing shame and dread as she sensed a losing battle with the current. She didn’t want to be one of those foolish-looking people who let the surf get the better of them - she’d always been a confident swimmer. Even as she panted and pulled against the relentless rip, she chuckled at how ridiculous the situation had suddenly become. A surfer paddled over to her. “Are you ok? You need help?” “No,” she puffed irritably. “Maybe I should call the lifeguard,” he said. “I’m fine, I know how to swim,” she countered, and began to stroke harder against the tide.
A lifeguard on a board appeared beside her. “I don’t need help. I’m just caught in a rip I think. I can swim back, just when this lot of waves passes,” she spluttered as another broke over her. The beach was looking so distant now. A wave of sadness rose in her, as she felt the longing to be back on the firm sand.
“Help!” she yelled, and the lifeguard began to pull her onto the board. “Paddle with me back to the shore. When a wave comes, paddle harder,” he stated. Tired as she was, she began to paddle. After a minute or two, she was just so tired. She lay down and rested on the board. “Keep paddling, or I’ll have to leave you behind!” said the lifeguard. “I can’t,” she sobbed. She found herself back in the water, drifting further out to sea. She was crying freely now, certain that this current would not let go of her.
That’s when a voice she could not place began to speak softly to her. “Sometimes this happens. Let the current carry you. Swim with it if you can.” “I’m scared. I’m drowning,” she thought to herself. “You are safe if you don’t struggle.” murmured the weird voice. “Sure, and I’ll get carried out to sea forever,” she mused. “Not forever. for as long as it takes,” sounded the voice.
And so she gave up and let the current take her. Within what seemed like a few seconds, she found herself becalmed. The beach seemed a long way distant, and the rows of waves between her and the sand, but she could only hear a soft murmur of the surf. The current had brought her to deeper water, and she felt a strange peace. The disembodied voice spoke again: “where do you want to go now?”
“Home.”
“Where’s that?”
“Here.”
The G word
30/10/09 20:15
Eat more vegies.
Eat less carbs.
Have sex with the light on.
Be more mindful.
Smile.
Stay in touch.
Obey the speed limit.
Learn how to use the internet.
Don’t watch so much TV.
Chocolate is good for you, in moderation.
Lose weight.
Think about it.
Do a budget.
Take a long hard look at yourself.
Consider others.
Dress for success.
Read more.
Sleep better.
Walk 10,000 steps per day.
Fix your hair.
Smile!
Dance like nobody’s watching.
Act locally, think globally.
Go easy on yourself.
Don’t believe a word of it.
Go with your gut.
Eat more superfoods.
Smile.
Eat less carbs.
Have sex with the light on.
Be more mindful.
Smile.
Stay in touch.
Obey the speed limit.
Learn how to use the internet.
Don’t watch so much TV.
Chocolate is good for you, in moderation.
Lose weight.
Think about it.
Do a budget.
Take a long hard look at yourself.
Consider others.
Dress for success.
Read more.
Sleep better.
Walk 10,000 steps per day.
Fix your hair.
Smile!
Dance like nobody’s watching.
Act locally, think globally.
Go easy on yourself.
Don’t believe a word of it.
Go with your gut.
Eat more superfoods.
Smile.
Yellow Cake
09/09/09 17:37
Of all the emotions, anger is probably most maligned. What do you associate with anger? Yelling, pushing, hurting, breaking? Or maybe you have been on the receiving-end of the silent treatment? Fundamentally, anger is an emotion, like any other: it is an internal state of being. But terms like “getting angry” lead us to think of anger as a behaviour, not a felt sense. Other emotions, like sadness or fear, are more associated with their internal sensations, like feeling heavy, or restless.
In the same way that other emotions are profoundly useful and needed parts of our lives (how do we grieve without sadness? how do we avoid danger without fear?), anger is an essential component of healthy living and relating to others. To get an idea of what life would be like without it, think about how you would feel if you were accused of a crime you didn’t commit. Without anger, you would meekly sit there, and accept your punishment.
Too often, though, anger becomes a problem not so much for its absence, but for it being all-too-present. Rage, or unchecked anger, is something to justifiably be afraid of.
So what to do with anger? I suggest you think of anger the same way you might think about uranium: You can use it to make a big explosion, which leads to harmful destruction; you can swallow it, in which case it will do you harm internally; or you can use it to generate power (of course, here the metaphor breaks down - anger power doesn’t create the toxic waste that uranium power does!).
So the next time you feel angry, consider how you can channel your anger in such a way that it makes you more powerful. You may find then that you are able to use that power to put right the wrong actions that made you angry in the first place. Or, to put it another way: ‘don’t get mad; get justice.’
In the same way that other emotions are profoundly useful and needed parts of our lives (how do we grieve without sadness? how do we avoid danger without fear?), anger is an essential component of healthy living and relating to others. To get an idea of what life would be like without it, think about how you would feel if you were accused of a crime you didn’t commit. Without anger, you would meekly sit there, and accept your punishment.
Too often, though, anger becomes a problem not so much for its absence, but for it being all-too-present. Rage, or unchecked anger, is something to justifiably be afraid of.
So what to do with anger? I suggest you think of anger the same way you might think about uranium: You can use it to make a big explosion, which leads to harmful destruction; you can swallow it, in which case it will do you harm internally; or you can use it to generate power (of course, here the metaphor breaks down - anger power doesn’t create the toxic waste that uranium power does!).
So the next time you feel angry, consider how you can channel your anger in such a way that it makes you more powerful. You may find then that you are able to use that power to put right the wrong actions that made you angry in the first place. Or, to put it another way: ‘don’t get mad; get justice.’
The Upside of being Down
22/07/09 14:48
Depression is the most common mental illness in Australia, and is expected to become the no. 1 disease burden as rated by the World Health Organisation in the next few years, beating stalwarts such as Heart Disease and Influenza. When you think about what depression actually is, perhaps you think of feeling down, having no interest in life, and being withdrawn. Have you ever felt like that? As with most mental illnesses, we can all feel some or all of the symptoms to some degree, from time to time.
But is depression really an illness? What makes it an illness? Feeling sad is, in and of itself, not a bad thing, even if it takes you a while to work out why the feeling is there. If someone you love has left, or if a chapter of your life has ended, or you have lost something that meant a lot to you, then you are bound to feel sad - in fact, feeling sad is a healthy response to loss, evolved over millennia to help you come to terms with the loss that is an inevitable part of life.
Just because it hurts, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Imagine where you’d be if you couldn’t feel pain, for example: you might injure yourself and then not realize it for hours, doing more damage in the meantime. Sadness is similar: if you didn’t feel sad, how would you really get your head around the fact that the person you loved so much has really gone? The first stage of grief is typically ‘denial’. It’s only when you get around to feeling sad, you are well on the way to the final stage of grief: acceptance.
Maybe depression is a deep sadness without an obvious cause (but not with NO cause). ‘Treating’ depression with therapy might therefore involve sitting with the sad feelings and thinking about things, until you work out WHY you are feeling sad - what it is you are really greiving for.
In an excellent review paper, Andrews and Thompson (2009) suggest that Depression is “...an evolved response to complex problems, whose function is to minimize disruption and sustain analysis of those problems by (a) giving the triggering problem prioritized access to [mental] processing resources, (b) reducing the [depressed person’s] desire to engage in distracting activities, and (c) producing psychomotor changes that reduce exposure to distracting stimuli.” In other words, they are suggesting that being depressed helps you focus better on the problems in your life, so that you can deal with them in a more effective way. Dealing with your problems might involve solving them, or might involve grieving for them and accepting them as a fact of life. This process is in fact beautifully captured by the ‘Serenity prayer’: “Lord, help me to change the things I can, to accept the things I can’t, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Perhaps depression is there to help us all achieve this kind of serenity.
Ref:
The bright side of being blue: Depression as an adaptation for analyzing complex problems.
Andrews, Paul W.; Thomson Jr., J. Anderson
Psychological Review. Vol 116(3), 2009, 620-654.
But is depression really an illness? What makes it an illness? Feeling sad is, in and of itself, not a bad thing, even if it takes you a while to work out why the feeling is there. If someone you love has left, or if a chapter of your life has ended, or you have lost something that meant a lot to you, then you are bound to feel sad - in fact, feeling sad is a healthy response to loss, evolved over millennia to help you come to terms with the loss that is an inevitable part of life.
Just because it hurts, doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Imagine where you’d be if you couldn’t feel pain, for example: you might injure yourself and then not realize it for hours, doing more damage in the meantime. Sadness is similar: if you didn’t feel sad, how would you really get your head around the fact that the person you loved so much has really gone? The first stage of grief is typically ‘denial’. It’s only when you get around to feeling sad, you are well on the way to the final stage of grief: acceptance.
Maybe depression is a deep sadness without an obvious cause (but not with NO cause). ‘Treating’ depression with therapy might therefore involve sitting with the sad feelings and thinking about things, until you work out WHY you are feeling sad - what it is you are really greiving for.
In an excellent review paper, Andrews and Thompson (2009) suggest that Depression is “...an evolved response to complex problems, whose function is to minimize disruption and sustain analysis of those problems by (a) giving the triggering problem prioritized access to [mental] processing resources, (b) reducing the [depressed person’s] desire to engage in distracting activities, and (c) producing psychomotor changes that reduce exposure to distracting stimuli.” In other words, they are suggesting that being depressed helps you focus better on the problems in your life, so that you can deal with them in a more effective way. Dealing with your problems might involve solving them, or might involve grieving for them and accepting them as a fact of life. This process is in fact beautifully captured by the ‘Serenity prayer’: “Lord, help me to change the things I can, to accept the things I can’t, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Perhaps depression is there to help us all achieve this kind of serenity.
Ref:
The bright side of being blue: Depression as an adaptation for analyzing complex problems.
Andrews, Paul W.; Thomson Jr., J. Anderson
Psychological Review. Vol 116(3), 2009, 620-654.
Let the longing linger
17/03/09 18:35
What does it mean to want something, someone? Ask yourself: What do you want? You may find yourself dreaming of a desired holiday, object, or treat. “What do I want to eat?” might be the sort of question you ask yourself when planning meals for the week. In affluent western society, “want” is synonymous with “anticipate” most of the time. In other words, as soon as we think of something we want, we also think of how we might go about getting it, and usually won’t think about it much more unless it’s to plan or anticipate getting what we want. Depression could therefore be understood as being confronted with one or more powerful desires that cannot be fulfilled. The worst way to be, even worse than not having something, is not having something we want.
“I want to lose weight.”
“I want to quit smoking.”
“I want to be more organised.”
“I want to see more of my family.”
If you have said one or more of these things to yourself or someone else, consider what the feeling was that went with these statements.
“I want to order pizza tonight.”
“I want another drink.”
“I want to go to bed now.”
How about these? Does the word ‘want’ here refer to a longing or an anticipation?
“I want my money back!”
“I want to go home.”
“I want off this merry-go-’round.”
These, in my view, are the types of statements that reflect true ‘want’. You can’t ‘want’ something unless (a) you feel a longing for it; (b) you can’t see how to get it, and (c) there’s nothing you can do to change the situation to make the feeling go away. Sometimes, frustratingly, the only way to get what you ‘want’ (lose weight, quit smoking, be more organised), is to allow for the unpleasant ‘wanting’ feeling to linger long enough to do its job. Think about it: if you ‘want’ to lose weight, sooner or later you’ll have to spend some time, simply sitting with a feeling of ‘want’ (in this case, hunger).
If you really ‘want’ to get what you ‘want’, then you have to let the ‘longing’ linger.
“I want to lose weight.”
“I want to quit smoking.”
“I want to be more organised.”
“I want to see more of my family.”
If you have said one or more of these things to yourself or someone else, consider what the feeling was that went with these statements.
“I want to order pizza tonight.”
“I want another drink.”
“I want to go to bed now.”
How about these? Does the word ‘want’ here refer to a longing or an anticipation?
“I want my money back!”
“I want to go home.”
“I want off this merry-go-’round.”
These, in my view, are the types of statements that reflect true ‘want’. You can’t ‘want’ something unless (a) you feel a longing for it; (b) you can’t see how to get it, and (c) there’s nothing you can do to change the situation to make the feeling go away. Sometimes, frustratingly, the only way to get what you ‘want’ (lose weight, quit smoking, be more organised), is to allow for the unpleasant ‘wanting’ feeling to linger long enough to do its job. Think about it: if you ‘want’ to lose weight, sooner or later you’ll have to spend some time, simply sitting with a feeling of ‘want’ (in this case, hunger).
If you really ‘want’ to get what you ‘want’, then you have to let the ‘longing’ linger.
Who decides?
28/08/08 18:30
Here's a secret: nobody makes decisions on their own. The idea that you weigh up your options, considering the pros and cons, and then pick a course of action to take, is a myth. That may be the way things happen in a commercial or legal or other professional setting, but when it comes to individual people, nobody ever decides to do anything before they do it. The truth is, we only decide after we have acted.
We go about our lives, and one day, for whatever reason, our behaviour changes. If we like the change, we maintain it. If we don't like it, we may go back to the way we were. With hindsight, you may look back at your life and wonder about the decisions you have made. From this angle, they look like strong, discrete forks in the road, and you may feel a sense of agency; that you have pro-actively and decisively chosen the path that your life has taken. What happens when you look ahead? Do things look so certain when you look to the future? Why doesn't your life's path seem so well-lit from that angle? And, as if the future didn't look hazy enough, how certain and decisive do things look right now? Perhaps you are currently wrestling with a big decision. Maybe you are thinking about making a significant purchase, leaving or starting a relationship, or changing the way you behave in some other way. Do you feel like you are at a clear fork in the road? When will you make your "decision"? When will you act on that decision? Do you feel sure of what you will decide, or do you feel more like you are trying to guess at where things will be in a years' time?
There is a phenomenon Psychololgists refer to as "cognitive dissonance". It goes something like this. Let's say you apply for two jobs, and are accepted for both. Which one do you choose? You like both, otherwise you wouldn't have applied for them both. There are relative advantages and disadvantages to each. Perhaps one has longer hours, but is also better paid. Perhaps one is closer to home, but the other has a bit more prestige. You think about it, and talk to people about it, and eventually accept one of the jobs, and reject the other . This is where the cognitive dissonance kicks in: You soon feel very relieved with the choice you made, and the advantages of the job you now have seem to far outweigh the disadvantages of the other job, which, now that you look at it, "really wasn't for you." You may struggle in the new position, but are likely to ultimately feel that, all things considered, you were luck to have made the right decision.
But did you really make a decision? To what degree was the decision made for you? Who and what influenced you, and how predictable were those influences? How helpful were they? How much freedom to decide did you have?
When you look at it, decisions are much more automatic, or involuntary, than we care to admit. If you leave this site and spend time "surfing the 'net", you'll be getting a taste of the way that decisions are made most of the time. The truth is, you never really know where you'll end up, so you may as well enjoy the process, and expect the unexpected.