The Tyranny of Self-Help
Tuesday, February 23, 2010 at 11:19AM Much of what I do could be considered teaching people to be effective at "self-help," (meditate, care about the food you eat, cultivate resilience, etc) but this morning I am much more struck by need to inspire people to be their natural, ordinary, not-too-perfect and not-too-obscessed-by-becoming-balanced selves.
It strikes me that for many of us, our "self-work" becomes a full time job and overtakes some of the rest of the naturalness of life. I know because I have long been a "professional evolver," one who is in constant analysis of myself and what this or that situation in life has taught me. It's taught me a lot, but when I get too stuck in "how to heal and perfect my own nature," I become a white bread and mayonaise, boring, stiff version of my colorful, goofy, tender, insecure self--the one who's a real human being.
What's wrong with this, you might ask? Well...on the one hand, nothing. A certain degree of self-awareness, question-asking, and desire to explore ways to feel better are necessary to our health. A dose of confidence and a sense of a plan can be a lifeline. However, there is a WAY of taking up these pursuits that becomes, well...a bit cloying, dull, completely annoying to others and so automatic in our own lives that we forget about the fun of immediacy in life, of simply being our messy, incomplete, quirkily imperfect selves--capable of laughing at all of this in ourselves and in others. No society or person has succeeded in ironing out all their kinks and insecurities, and part of the fun (and ease) in life come in realizing that no amount of peace and balance in our lives can take away our unique personalities--whether you are a monk or a stand-up comedian.
What I mean is that there is a certain "cultivated carelessness" about life that can be entirely attractive in those who express it. For example, one of my favorite people in the world is my friend and mentor Allyn Roberts, PhD, a now semi-retired psychologist from Madison, WI. His background first in chemistry, then in anthropology, and later in clinical psychology and spiritual traditions of the world places him firmly on the grounds of those who care about quality of life and believe that education, goals, reflection, and therapeutic practices matter. At the same time, his collection of life stories belie a certain willingness to let go of the reigns and stumble into important lessons, whether it was the time he became a vegetarian for a month in order to make a senior monk, Gesha Sopa, feel comfortable, only to learn that the monk himself believed there was something important to learn from "doing as the Romans do," i.e. ordering a steak while he was experiencing America. Or there was the time when he took his children to India to visit the Dalai Lama in Dharmsala, and the Dalai Lama spilled the tea he was pouring, immediately putting everyone at ease with his jovial nature. He has also had to "turn down the culturally appropriate invitation," as in the time when he had to gracefully but firmly decline an arranged marriage with the daughter of an island chief while he was on an anthropologically oriented exploration years ago in the south pacific ocean. Or there was the time when his friendly nature combined with a stuck car on a snowy day accidentally led him to become the owner of a castle of sorts, all while he was still a young psychologist with only a few dollars to rub together.
Perhaps what impresses me the most is that Allyn has studied meditation, practiced many forms of therapy, modified his diet over the years, and taught hundreds of people, if not thousands, to apply certain principles of psychological healing in their lives, but...and this is a tremendously important BUT--he sticks to none of it too rigidly. He lets his psychological techniques go when they don't apply, he eats pie and chocolate cake fairly regularly, and on many days (perhaps even most) he would count reading the newspaper or watching a little TV to "check in on how we're doing as a species" to be rather important as an investigative and reflective exercise. He can do both without losing hope and without getting preachy. He counts a good walk to work or through the arboretum as his meditation, rather than formally sitting on the cushion. He laughs easily and never speaks in platitudes. He is never "annoyingly positive," although one always feels a certain hopeful okayness when with him.
There is something delightfully freeing about his lack of dogma and lack of rigor regarding any particular "healing strategies." Now, he can, in part, get away with this seeming lack of a plan because at his foundation, he IS pretty okay. Of course, there are times in all of our lives when dramatic illness or catastrophic circumstances require that we buckle up and get serious about our healing. There are times to say, "I simply MUST sit down to meditate daily or do my daily yoga or go to my AA meeting--or take my medicine." Sometimes these routines of healing can literally save our lives. But some people, like Allyn, demonstrate that there are ways to happiness that do not include stuffing our day with exercises but rather participating in its unfolding.
I don't know about you, but I find myself, far too often, responding to myself or to someone else in my life with these pre-digested strategies for wellness when the best medicine might be simply to go out and live fully and robustly, noticing the many dimensions of life and filtering a little less of ourselves. Seeking the "proper experiences," whether the best meditation training, the most inspiring yoga class, is not the right prescription for happiness if we've failed to use it to give us flexibility in life.
Check out psychologist/researcher Dan Gilbert, PhD for his book, Stumbling On Happiness. All of our struggles to make the right decisions in life may have very little to do with how happy we are. Happiness, it turns out, might come more from our smallest ways of perceiving and making evaluations. Furthermore, read some of the books by neuropsychologist Paul Pearsall, namely The Last Self-Help Book You Will Ever Need, or Awe: The Delights and Dangers of Our Eleventh Emotion)
This may sound a little hap-hazard, and in fact, I do not mean to disparage the many phenomenal healing traditions and states of mind that have been well-applied to many lives. Rather, in up-coming posts, I will explore a "map for living" which can help you identify particular stages of life when you may need more structure and self-awareness and others when you would do best to let them go for awhile.
I'll start to have these up in the next few days. But for now, all you professional self-helpers, go out there and observe some of the most "natually happy" and easy people to be around and see if you can feel what I'm talking about when I say that they exude a certain freedom and trust about the basic process of living that overrides any particular belief in the power of a strategy.
Reader Comments (4)
Dr. Malynn, you have opened my eyes too what a complacent, smug, uninspired and uninspiring slug I have turned out to be. I have learned to live with it, however, in a state of relative self-satisfaction.
Worse is the phenomena of drugging yourself into that dull and complacent state. As Doug Stanhope said, "At first I was afraid when my doctor told me I had a unique and interesting personality trait..."
An excellent read. Thanks very much.
Thanks for the comments--both the praise and the wink and grin, Bob, Randy, and Jim!