Don’t lie in general

Posted on May 5, 2019 by Mr Bashful

‘Tell people the truth, because they know the truth anyway.’
John McGrath

An effective way to avoid lying to ourselves is to avoid lying in general. When I say ‘lying’ I mean purposely deceiving someone. When I’m at Speakers’ Corner and call myself ‘the spiritual advisor to the Dalai Lama’ I’m not lying; my grasshoppers know it’s a big fib.
     When we lie regularly we get good at it, and we lose sight of the boundaries of when it is alright to lie, and when it isn’t. Then we end up living on the surface of life, skimming from one lie to the next. Our life lacks substance. Close relationships become shallow, because lies eat away at trust and intimacy. On both broad and intimate levels, lies disconnect us from humanity. They violate us.
     After a while, we may start believing our own lies, and then we look like a goose. And when we are caught out lying, and try to justify it by saying the recipient deserved the lie, or that it’s okay to lie because everyone lies, then we look even more like a goose. We spiral into goosedom. And, because we are not confronting the problem honestly, we don’t get to properly solve it. The philosopher Robert Tilley said that ‘when we lie we apprehend the ghostly, the void . . .     we sense the abyss.’ He’s right. We can feel the violation when we lie. We know that each time we lie we create discord within us, and we like ourselves less.

‘Lying is one of the fastest ways to erode your self esteem. Every time you lie . . . to get some sort of result, regardless of how successful you are, your subconscious is aware you had to lie to get there. What you actually do is reinforce a negative belief about your value as a human being . . .’
Damien Diecke, in his book, ‘Sincere Seduction’.

‘When we lie, the more fear we feel, for we are drawing closer to the inner rooms that are haunted.’  
Robert Tilley.

     If we don’t lie we won’t have to suffer the anxiety of being caught out, and we won’t spiral into goosedom. Other people will trust us more, and more importantly, we will trust ourselves more. We know we can depend on ourselves, because we are not driven by the need to gain. That indicates self-sufficiency and resilience. Further, we know that what we say has substance, because it’s the truth, and so we feel that we ourselves have substance. We know that what we say counts, that it matters. And so, in that unassailable position, we feel safer in the world.

‘Truth may be seen as a bone that we, puppy-like, bury and re-bury in a thousand backyards and rubbish dumps – in poetry, painting and song – for the sheer, tail-wagging pleasure of finding it again. Even just for the joy of the hunt. Sometimes, of course, we forget where we hid our truth; sometimes we even forget there ever was a truth to find. Then we persist with the hunt for a while but soon, deprived of possibility, forget that there was any fun to be had and give up. That’s when we settle down, head on paws, in front of the telly. That’s when we slip into Blubberland.’
From Elizabeth Farrelly’s book, ‘Blubberland. The Dangers of Happiness.’

Q. ‘What do you mean by “don’t lie”?’
– Don’t deceive.  Don’t mislead. Don’t evade. Don’t obfuscate. Don’t omit information.
– Don’t be like a ‘lawyer’ using a technicality or a loophole.
– Don’t cheat, even if you can legally get away with it. When you cheat someone you perceive that person as a resource, rather than a person with feelings. That won’t help you grow, and it won’t help you feel connected.
– Don’t use the law or regulations to justify lying or cheating. Consult your own moral code.
– Don’t be pretentious. Don’t pretend it’s a great bottle of wine when you have no idea.

‘. . . we know, deep down, that these justifications often are specious; that they really don’t hold water. Hence, we do not want to look too closely at them, nor do we want others to do so either. We then employ all sorts of tactics to throw ourselves and others off, chiefly by nobbling reason. Thus we go off at tangents, throw tantrums, get angry, seek distractions, and introduce a million and one different arguments so that one cannot follow one argument all the way through.’
Philosopher, Robert Tilley.

Q. ‘It sounds good in theory, but the rest of us live in the real world.’
If you live openly and honestly, soon all you will seek, and live by, is the truth. That’s a big advantage in the real world.

Q. ‘There are benefits to lying. I can save money lying about my age, and get a job lying about my qualifications . . . There are all sorts of benefits.’
True. But becoming resilient and adding to your core happiness won’t be one of those benefits.
     ‘My friend lied on her resumé and now has the perfect job, and she is good at it. She’s happy. Had she not lied she would either have a lousy job, or be unemployed.’
     Does she lie in other aspects of her life? If so, will the disadvantages of that habit outweigh the benefits of having the perfect job? I don’t know. I don’t have the knowledge or wisdom to take into account seven billion personalities with countless scenarios, and come up with flawless material.

Q. ‘White lies are okay, aren’t they?’
Praise a lousy singer and you set that person up to be embarrassed.
     ‘A friend of mine wants to know if he’s ugly. He has a head on him like a robber’s dog. What do I tell him?’
      You’re not obliged to express an opinion. It’s not fair that he asks.
     ‘But what if he insists?’
      You have two optons. Option One: lie.
     ‘Lie?’
     We benefit when we tell the truth; now and then we can forgo that benefit.
     ‘Option Two?’
Tell the truth. If your friend knows you speak the truth he will be prepared to hear it. Follow up with questions about why he asked and what your answer means to him. Take an active interest.
      ‘If it’s a stranger asking me?’
It depends on the situation. As far as I can see, you have the same two options.

As Julian Baggini says, ‘“Nothing but the truth” is the wrong maxim if things other than truth matter more. The most obvious examples are of courtesy and concern for people’s feelings, where kindness matters more than revealing the full, naked truth. Even here, however, we need to be careful. There is a risk of second guessing what is best for people or what we think they are able to deal with. Normally, it is better to allow people to make up their own minds on the basis of facts. Withholding truth for someone’s own benefit is sometimes justified but often it simply diminishes their autonomy. This is what Kant got right when he claimed that lying violates the dignity of man.’
Julian Baggini, in his article, ‘The Whole Truth’, in the British online magazine, ‘Prospect’.

Q. ‘Can a woman lie to a prospective employer if she is asked if she intends to have children? Is it okay to lie when negotiating with a car dealer?’
     You figure it out. This book is not about the ethics of lying; it’s not about ethics at all. It’s about becoming resilient. The message is: get into the habit of telling the truth. When it comes to making exceptions – on compassionate or pragmatic grounds – that’s your choice.

Two warnings:
1. Don’t assume that one day you will get around to not lying. It doesn’t happen that way. It requires diligence. You don’t simply acquire honesty and integrity; you have to cultivate them. Start now, be firm, and be consistent.

2. Liars from birth: about one person in every hundred on the planet is either a sociopath or a psychopath. Rarely do they commit the atrocities you find in the movies; instead, they live their lives the way you and I do but without regard for others. They lack empathy, compassion and remorse because they aren’t ‘wired’ to experience those emotions. They tell lies to get what they want, and they are good at it. They appear genuine and will fool you every time, because they don’t exhibit the usual cues that would give a healthy person away. Some of them run large companies or organisations; others destroy large companies or organisations. They are good manipulators.
     You have met them and not realised it. You will meet them again. Watch out. Think.

‘. . . a dedication to honesty motivates us to strive to become all the good things lying helps us pretend we already are.     . . . it unmasks a character defect we then have the opportunity to change.’
Alex Lickerman.

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Do scary things.

Posted on May 4, 2019 by Mr Bashful

‘The willingness to say ‘I love you first’. The willingness to invest in a relationship.’
Brené Brown.

When we create for ourselves a life that is safe – a safe home, a safe job, a safe routine – we need to remember our pygmy twins, who taught us that happiness doesn’t come from making ourselves safe, but from feeling comfortable that we can handle scary situations.
  Choosing to remain in our comfort zone means we forgo the opportunity to gain confidence in ourselves, and to discover that we can handle life.
  The antidote? Do things that scare you. And don’t wait for the fear to go away before you do it.

‘Each risk you take, each time you move out of what feels comfortable, you become more powerful. As your power builds, so does your confidence, so that stretching your comfort zone becomes easier and easier, despite any fear you may be experiencing.’
Susan Jeffers, from her book, ‘Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway’.

There you have it. Each time we move through fear we become a little stronger, a little more confident in our ability to handle the world. A little more resilient.

“You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.”
Eleanor Roosevelt.

Q. ‘Are you saying I should do something scary?’
     Yes.
     ‘Like driving recklessly down a suburban street?’
     No! Stupidity sours the process. When you do something scary, you are supposed to minimise the dangers, not create them. Abseilers, speleologists, mountain climbers, skydivers . . .  prepare as much as possible to minimise the risk. Doing something unsafe demeans you. There is a difference between being courageous and being a jerk. In his book, When Anger Scares You, Christopher Kilmartin says, ‘Courage is about what you feel a need to do, whereas bravado is about how you want others to think of you . . .’

Q. ‘How about watching scary movies?’
Watching scary movies doesn’t count either. You need to actively move through your fears, not passively inure yourself to them.

Q. ‘I am phobic with spiders. Do you want me to pick up a spider?’
That’s asking too much. You might traumatise yourself and worsen your phobia. Work up to it. If you could handle being in the same room as a photograph of a spider, start there. With a phobia, you might want to get professional advice.

Q. ‘I want to try skydiving, but if I can’t bring myself to jump, does it matter?’
On one hand it’s a missed opportunity, because by moving through fear we gain confidence in ourselves and in the world. We find it easier to trust ourselves, and others, because we are less afraid of the outcome.
  On the other hand, if you can’t jump out of that plane it’s no big deal. Forget it. There are plenty of other fears to face. Congratulate yourself for at least having a go.

‘Do the thing you fear most and the death of fear is certain.’
Mark Twain.

Q. ‘Let’s say I attempt something scary. Isn’t there a danger that if something goes wrong my confidence will be shattered?
Can you remember a time in which you failed in an attempt, but your self-confidence grew because you gave it a go?

I once asked a friend why he went to kickboxing classes. He replied, ‘As a kid I always had trouble standing up for myself. If I were bullied I’d back down, trying to convince myself I was being mature, that I was taking the non-violent path. But I knew the truth: I was afraid, and hated myself for it. As I grew older I hoped confidence would come, but it didn’t. If someone picked a fight with me in a pub, or treated me badly, I’d feel the same fear, the same powerlessness. I’d again back down.’
     ‘So you took up kickboxing?’ I asked him.
     ‘If you lived a life of cowardice, so would you.’
     ‘So what happens now when someone in a pub treats you badly?’
     ‘So far, I’ve only had to back off.’
     ‘You back off? So, nothing has changed?’
     ‘Sure it has. Before, I used to back off out of fear. Now I back off, but not out of fear. There’s a difference. I look at the guy and wonder what he must be feeling to be so aggressive. I have no interest in hurting him, and figure I might as well find somewhere else to enjoy myself. I leave the pub in a good mood.’
     In overcoming his fear my friend had become compassionate.

‘The more powerful I become, the gentler I am.’
Michael Adamedes.

How to Move Through Fear.

Step 1. Don’t wait for the day when it won’t scare you as much. That day won’t come.

‘. . . the old adage of “Just do it.” Unfortunately, there’s no good way around it. It’s just getting out there, it’s doing things that you’re scared of. It’s approaching those situations, facing your fears over and over and over again.’ 
Professor Ron Rapee, on the ABCs Insight Program.

Step 2. Label the fear. Say it to yourself or out loud: ‘I’m afraid.’
Don’t waste your time and energy criticising yourself for feeling afraid. Expect to be anxious. Remind yourself that it’s normal and understandable.

Step 3. Don’t wait for the fear to go away. Instead, examine your fear. Ask yourself: ‘What precisely am I afraid of?’

‘Menacing shapes half-glimpsed from the corner of our vision are far more disturbing than the things we can see clearly. That’s why, in horror movies, they always film the monster lurking in the darkness; if they brought it out into broad daylight, it wouldn’t be nearly so scary.’
Dr Russ Harris, in his book, ‘The Happiness Trap.’

Most of the time, the fear of being unable to handle the situation is the real fear. You don’t fear failing a test; you fear you won’t handle failing the test. You don’t fear an encounter with a spider; you fear you won’t handle the encounter.

The story of the Tibetan mystic, Milarepa: One day his cave was invaded by fearful demons, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them. Finally he invited them to stay, and at that point they left. Except one, the largest of the demons. Milarepa placed his head in the demon’s mouth, and that demon disappeared too.

Step 4. Ask yourself:
(1) ‘Do I need to fear this?’
(2) ‘Assuming the worst happens, will I be able to handle it?’
(3) ‘What would I say to a friend in a similar position?’  (You will respond to your own wisdom.)

Step 5. If you are tempted to change your mind ‘for rational reasons’ ask yourself, ‘Would I change my mind if I were not afraid?’

Step 6. Break the task into little steps, and do one step at a time. With each step, breathe deeply to relax your mind and body.

Step 7. Then, while feeling the fear, do it anyway.
              
If you can’t do it, don’t beat yourself up. Congratulate yourself on having a go, and continue to stretch your boundaries by attempting other scary tasks.

‘Accept fear as a part of life – specifically the fear of change. Move ahead despite the pounding in your heart that says: turn back.’  
– John McGrath.

SCARY QUESTS FOR THE BRAVE-HEARTED
(Print this bit. When you complete each quest, tick it. When you have completed every quest, mail the sheet to someone important.                  
                                  
Quest 1. Sing in a karaoke bar. (If you are legally allowed to be there.)

Quest 2. Go to a park and set up a ladder and sign, and try public speaking.

Quest 3. Go on a scary amusement park ride you would normally avoid.

Quest 4. When you are required to do something necessary but scary (such as catching a spider to take outside), do it. (Don’t squash the spider.)

Quest 5. Take on a daunting project. One you think you might fail in.

Quest 6.  Begin conversations with strangers, and with people different to you.

Quest 7. Ring a talk-back ratio station to express an opinion.

Quest 8. In a lecture theatre ask a question in Question Time.

For the remainder, create your own scary quests. But don’t do anything that might be unsafe. Doing something unsafe demeans you.   

Quest 9.

Quest 10.

Quest 11.

Quest 12.

 

 

 

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Develop the feeling of abundance.

Posted on May 1, 2019 by Mr Bashful

People acquire possessions for convenience or pleasure, which is fine, but some people acquire possessions to gain a feeling of substance. These people choose their car, their watch, their furnishings . . . carefully.
     What might it say about you if you could give your car, or watch, away? It would mean you could handle the idea of not having it.
     Having the capacity to willingly part with our possessions, our money, our time, frees us. We become confident we could handle any material loss in our life. After all, we can’t fear losing something if we are prepared to give it away.

‘. . . by giving away a portion of what you earn, you are teaching your brain that you have more than enough. You’ll be beyond scarcity, and that belief system alone will change your life.’      
Anthony Robbins, from his book,  ‘Awaken the Giant Within’.

Having the capacity to give things away means that it’s not just the fear of losing our possessions that evaporates; we also lose the fear of being diminished. In reality that car, the watch, the furnishings . . . don’t adequately establish who we are. When we learn we can handle not having those things we find we still have substance. And it’s a substance we like.
     I’m not suggesting you give those things away. I wouldn’t give mine away. I’m suggesting we develop the capacity to do so. How? By practising generosity. Being generous allows us to become less fearful of losing what we have. When it feels okay to give, we feel more secure. Paradoxically, if we feel we can handle being diminished, the more whole we feel. And we are adding to our inner authority.
     Further, an act of generosity tells the recipient that they are valued. That builds a connection between you and that person, and with humanity itself. It helps satisfy our need for connection, our deep need to belong.

‘Giving to someone you don’t know may be less immediately rewarding, but it expresses your awareness that other human lives matter, and that the extent to which they matter is not determined by their proximity or usefulness to you, or your intimacy with them.’  
Stephanie Dowrick.

It doesn’t stop there. Once we learn it’s okay to give, that we won’t bleed away, that we won’t be diminished, we can become more generous of ourselves. By that I mean: we become more open with our feelings and thoughts when speaking with people, and become more trusting of them. In turn, people become more trusting of us. So, again we add to that feeling of being connected, that deep need to belong.
     And, when we realise we can be open with others and handle it, we become more confident in ourselves. With less to hide we feel safer, and add to our resilience.

Aim to be generous of spirit as well. Let go your expectations of how other people should be. Let them be.

In short, practise generosity when you can, to build up a feeling of abundance. Don’t be a mug about it: use commonsense and wisdom when giving away money and possessions. Begin with the little things: things you no longer need.
  The more generous you are the easier it becomes. The feeling that ‘whatever happens you will handle it’ grows, as does your core happiness.

‘People who fear can’t give. They are imbued with a deep-seated sense of scarcity in the world, as if there wasn’t enough to go around. Not enough love, not enough money, not enough praise, not enough attention, simply not enough.’   
Susan Jeffers.

Q. ‘If you truly believed what you say you would give everything away.’
That’s not how it works. I enjoy the pleasure and comfort my possessions give me. Pleasures are an important part of my life. The point is: if I were forced to give everything away, or if I were to lose it all, then although I would be considerably inconvenienced I would not be shattered by the experience. Having that confidence helps me feel resilient.

Q. ‘I tried being generous but I don’t feel any different. I feel worse. It feels like a chunk has been taken out of me. I do feel diminished.’
Don’t expect to feel good immediately. Just give enough to stretch your boundaries a little. The more often you do it the easier it becomes. Then the confidence comes: the knowledge that you can handle going without. It’s liberating.

Two questions:
Situation 1:  Someone knocks on your door with a genuine offer. You can either:
(i) be given a new car worth $40,000, no strings attached. Or,
(ii) be given a second-hand car that you know for certain is in good mechanical condition, worth $3,000, and $37,000 will be given to a charity that will ensure 200 blind people in a Third World country can see again.
Which option will you choose?
When you are ready to buy a car, what choice will you make?

Situation 2: Here is a question being made redundant by ebooks, but the point of it still applies:
  There are countless books layered with dust in bookcases throughout the world. People keep them for decades without opening them, hoping to one day get around to reading them. Or, they have read the book and like it so much they don’t want to part with it. Either way, those books are wasted.
  If everyone disposed of their wasted books – for example, sold them to second-hand book stores – a billion books would become available and could finally be read. Genre bookshops would spring up. All of us could finally find that book we have been searching for.
  To possess something and to not use it, while someone else wants it, is theft.
    My second question: Why do you prefer to let such books sit in your bookcase for years, rather than let someone else enjoy them?
     Is your reason a good one?

‘Generosity can be a little gesture, like feeding someone’s parking meter . . . It might be treating a friend to lunch for no reason other than ‘just because’, or taking the time to really listen to an elderly relative telling you their favourite story again. Sometimes being generous is as simple as giving someone the benefit of the doubt and trusting that however things may feel right now, like you, they are probably just doing the best they can.’    
Domonique Bertolucci, The Happiness Code

‘We might begin by feeling, “I will give this much and no more,” or, “I will give this object if I am appreciated enough for this act of giving.” But as we come to these places that bind or confine us, we learn to see through them, realising that they are transparent. They have no solidity; they do not have to hold us back. And so we go beyond them.  We extend our limits continually outward, creating a deeply composed expansiveness and spaciousness of mind.’      
Sharon Salzberg.

Exercise:
Print this page, and as you complete each task, tick it, and observe how you feel. When you have completed every task mail your effort to Norway.

Please, please: before doing this exercise, please first consult the people you’re living with.

1. Be generous with your money.
(i) Send a few dollars to a charity.
(ii) Buy raffle tickets for a fundraiser. (Or sell the tickets.)
(iii) Buy a friend a treat for no reason.

2. Be generous with your possessions.
(i) Give away the books you won’t read again. (Or sell them and give the money away.)
(ii) Give away toys you no longer use. (Children, ask your parents first.)
(iii) If you are a collector, give an item to a fellow collector who would like it.

3. Be generous of spirit.  (Be gracious)
(i) When new neighbours come to the street, knock on their door and welcome them.
(ii) When someone inadvertently offends you, let them get away with it.
(iii) Make sandwiches and give them to a homeless person. (Not any old sandwiches; make sure they’re delicious.)

4. Be generous with your time.
(i) Help out a neighbour and don’t let yourself be paid for it.
(ii) Children, give your parents a freebie. If they normally pay you to do something, do it for free. Tell them, ‘This one is on me.’
(iii) Participate in a cause such as ‘Clean Up Australia Day’.
(iv) If you’re good at schoolwork, or in the office, spend time helping a person who isn’t.  (And deal with your impatience.)
(v) Listen to a lonely person talk about their life.

5. Be generous to yourself.
(i) Parents: do you have silverware or crockery that is used rarely? If so, use it, every day. Allow yourself to experience the pleasure.
(ii) Are there other items in your house too beautiful or too expensive to use? Could you handle it if they were broken? If so, bring them out and use them. Enjoy them! Yes, those items will break, and when they do, shrug. Thank it for being so beautiful and for being such a pleasure to use. Then chuck the remnants in the bin, and let it go.

 If you’re a parent reading this: Tim O’Connor of UNICEF Australia, offers a few tips on how to raise generous kids. (These tips were found in a body+soul website.)
(i) When considering making a donation, include your children in the conversation. Which organisation should you consider donating towards?
(ii) Encourage kids to learn about different problems people have, and get them thinking about the organisations that offer support.
(iii) Talk to your children about their pocket money. What do they want to buy now, what do they want to save for? What would they like to donate to charity?
(iv) Offer to match what the kids give to charity.
(v) If the kids donate to a charity, take a family visit to the charity to see how the recipients benefit. This could impact strongly on your kids.
(vi) Give your time. Join a working bee or work in the school’s tuck shop. Many local charities need volunteers. How can your kids help?

 

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Edward de Bono’s shrug.

Posted on April 28, 2019 by Mr Bashful

The best way to deal with impatience is to not become impatient in the first place. A a good way to do that is to become easygoing.
     How do we do that?
     One good way called ‘The Shrug’ is described by Edward de Bono in his book, ‘The Happiness Purpose’. When you suffer a minor inconvenience, shrug. When a passer-by insults you, shrug. If you’re in a long queue, shrug. Shrug when a restaurant mucks up a booking. Shrug when someone makes a mistake. Shrug when you make a mistake.
     Get good at shrugging and who knows, when a meteor smashes your home to smithereens you might just be able to shrug and get on with your life. How empowering that would be?! Imagine the resilience you would have!
     When we overlook faults we get good at not seeing them. But if we look for faults we get good at finding them, which means we get good at finding things to test our patience. That’s the last thing we want.
   De Bono’s shrug helps us see an incident in a healthy perspective: we get good at reducing a problem to a mere inconvenience. And, it reduces the intensity of what we are feeling. Our distress evaporates.
     It’s not just faults we can overlook. We can use de Bono’s Shrug to avoid being judgmental. If you see someone acting weirdly, shrug. If they have luminous hair, shrug. If they’re wearing four cardigans on a hot day, shrug.

In short, the trick to being a patient person is to develop patience in the good times, when it is easy to be patient. A good way to do that is to leave aside the small battles we don’t need to fight, such as the minor hassles in life and the things that aren’t done perfectly. By giving them de Bono’s shrug we will get good at not finding problems to complain about, so that when the awkward times do come, we are less likely to become impatient. As a result we will be less anxious, and more resilient.
     The next time there is a ‘problem’, reduce it to an inconvenience. Apply de Bono’s shrug.

Q. ‘So, if someone steals my car, I just shrug?’
Feel all the emotions that come to you.
  If you have been practising de Bono’s shrug in the instances which don’t matter, you may find yourself coping better with serious incidents that do matter. 
  And obviously, take steps to get your car back.

Q. Is that it? Shrug?
Why not apply the other tips you have learnt?
(i) Label your emotion and be specific. That will help alleviate the turmoil.
(ii) Remind yourself that it is you who is making yourself distressed, not the theft.
(iii) How will you feel about this a year from now?
(iv) Is a button being pressed?
(v) Has a ‘should’ been violated?

Q. Yes, I could shrug a lot more. If my footy team loses, I could just shrug. If I am insulted by someone, I could just shrug. If I practise the shrug often enough, for long enough, I’d become super easygoing. Nothing would get to me.
  But do I want that? Do I want to be Mr/Mrs Serenity? No, because I think my life would lack colour. I want to experience the little irritations of life. I sort of want to feel the disappointment of seeing my footy team lose. If I had a magic pill that would take that disappointment away, I wouldn’t take it. Somehow, it feels important to me that I am able to experience the awful pain of seeing my footy team lose.
   Besides, if  I didn’t feel that pain, would I feel the exquisite pleasure of seeing them win? Would life become bland?
  So no, I don’t want to ameliorate most of my disappointments with a shrug. I don’t want to become Mr Serenity.
Fair point.
Perhaps we can consider developing the skill of shrugging, but not always applying it? Yes, let’s gain the ability to shrug, without always taking that option.

Q. And if I shrug, could it mean that I am simply frightened of something? Yes, I could just shrug if I am insulted by someone, but in some situations I might prefer to stick up for myself, and put the other person in their place, rather than shrug.
  Some people are taught that conflict is bad, and if they are insulted they should ‘turn the other cheek’ and ‘don’t react’. Those people may think that they are dealing with the incident in a mature way (and they may be), but it could also mean that are inhibited from sticking up for themselves by a fear of conflict.
Good point. In that instance, to apply de Bono’s shrug could be a poor option.
Like all the other suggestions in this tome, evaluate their worth and ask if they apply to you.  Or sometimes apply to you.

Q. To apply de Bono’s shrug might wallpaper over our deeper concerns, and we don’t want that. Elsewhere in this book you write about a road-rager who chose to do an anger management course. The road rager complied, discovered the buttons in him that were being pressed, and found ways to calm himself down. Had that young man been told to simply apply de Bono’s shrug, it would not have helped him. He might even have ‘bottled it up’, and eventually become even more explosive.
  Yes. In some situations a person might be better off figuring out why something upsets them, rather than just shrugging. We can ask ourselves, ‘What button is being pressed within me’?’

 

 

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Get out of the habit of complaining.

Posted on April 25, 2019 by Mr Bashful

‘It’s easy to be hard to please.’
Gretchen Rubin.

We have just seen that Edward de Bono’s shrug is one good way to become easygoing. Another good way is to get out of the habit of complaining.
    I am not saying ‘don’t complain’, I am saying, if you are in the habit of complaining, get out of it. Don’t be a chronic complainer.
  Some of us complain so often we don’t notice it. I have met chronic complainers who don’t believe they complain! Yet, they’ll often say things like:
‘Gosh, it has been raining for days!’
‘Those birds crapped on my car!’
‘The sun fades my curtains.’
‘ Typical!’

As a child I collected coins, aiming to get a complete set. I also hunted for coins minted incorrectly, and become good at finding deformed coins. With a glance I could pluck from a pile of coins one that was a little different. Mostly, it would be a coin damaged from day-to-day use, but I did find two mis-minted coins.
     In other words, I looked for faults in coins and became good at finding them.
     In the same way, someone who looks for faults in life will get good at finding them.
     The trouble is, they will find themselves in a world constantly faulty. They will find faults with a person’s grammar, their appearance, their beliefs . . . and in life itself. They may even find plenty of faults with themselves.
    What a drab way to live.
     These people can appear perceptive at times, but over time they will dishearten themselves living in what they perceive to be a universally defective world.
     When we practise being critical we become better at finding things to be critical about. Like picking our nose in public, or farting in lifts, it’s not something we want to be good at.
     So, if you are a chronic complainer, get out of the habit. Every time you find yourself complaining, stop. Retract it. And if you like, apply de Bono’s shrug.
     You may even want to ask yourself, Do I need to complain? Will it solve the problem? Will I end up feeling better? Or worse?   
     When we become adept at retracting our complaints we break the habit of complaining. After all, there will be no enjoyment in complaining if it’s followed by the tedious task of retracting it.

My main point is: get out of the habit of complaining. ‘Those birds keep defecating on my car.’

In short, become lousy at finding fault with life. Don’t go looking for things to complain about. Don’t make idle complaints like, ‘Gosh, it has been raining for days.’ If you do, retract them.
  When we are out of the habit of making idle complaints we see far fewer faults in people, and in life. We might even find that our powers of insight turn towards finding strengths in people. Can you imagine how uplifting that would be? For ourselves and for the other person?
     Most importantly, when we become lousy at finding faults with people, and with life, we become easygoing and find ourselves living in a world that isn’t so bad after all. Then, when something unwanted does happen, we’re not fazed. We’re relaxed. We can handle it. We have become resilient.

Q. ‘When is it okay to complain?’
(1) When change is necessary. Ensure you know precisely what needs to happen, and then create a cogent, cohesive and argument that will persuade the person in authority to make it happen.
  For example, complaining (diplomatically) to a store clerk is necessary if we need to return a defective item.

(2) If you are suffering in some way, then complaining to a friend, or to someone you trust, can be cathartic. As the proverb goes, ‘A problem shared is a problem halved.’
  Besides, by complaining you might find a solution to your problem.

It’s the unnecessary, pointless complaints I want you to stop making. In particular, it’s the habit of finding things faulty that I want you to break. Then you won’t see life as faulty. Life will be less of a drag, and easier to live.

Q. ‘How do I complain?’
I suggest you write it first. You don’t have to send it, but it will help you get your thoughts in order.

Step 1. While writing your letter . . .
(1) ask yourself, ‘What is their point-of-view? Why did they do what they did?’
(2) Ask yourself, ‘Why am I complaining? Is it to prevent the problem from occurring again? To be compensated? To help them lift their game? Explain clearly what you want to happen. (I suggest you DON’T request an apology. Doing so is a power-game that won’t help you much, and it could create further problems. The purpose of the complaint is to make changes. Focus on that.)
(3) Consider talking it over with someone.

Step 2. Make your complaint. Whether you send your letter or meet face-to-face, be polite. It won’t mean you can’t be firm. You have a better chance of receiving a helpful response if you’re polite.

Step 3. Congratulate yourself on making the effort to complain, and for expressing that complaint in a clear, mature way.

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Think what you like.

Posted on April 23, 2019 by Mr Bashful

After I was burgled my sense of violation lasted a long time. I would come home concerned that I had been robbed again, and when I looked out my kitchen window I would scan my garden for an intruder. I can’t imagine what it’s like for people more seriously violated. I shudder to think.
     I aimed to let the incident go from my mind, but my thoughts had different ideas: sometimes I imagined myself finding a thief who had fallen into my frog pond and drowned. It’s an awful thought to have, but I had it. Or, I imagined overpowering the intruder and giving him a broken jaw and plenty of bruises. An unpleasant thought, but I had it.
   Even today, if I hear the house creak, I’m alert.
   I would like to be the type of person who doesn’t think such thoughts, and whose sense of violation can vanish in a day or two. I’d like to be person who shrugs off such incidents with zen-like detachment, and have warm and benevolent thoughts for the thief. I know I would be better off. However, I am not yet that person and probably never will be.
     Truth be told, in life I have millions of thoughts which are banal, repetitive, immature, cowardly, and seedy. I would rather not have them. Yet, when I have those thoughts I don’t criticise myself for having them. I don’t say to myself, ‘I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. Stop thinking them.’  No, I observe myself having the thought and move on.
     To my knowledge, every human being on the planet has unwanted thoughts. It’s normal to have them. Our brains are wired to interpret the world, and inevitably they will come to conclusions we don’t want. It’s our brain’s way of dealing with our experiences, our hormones, our emotions, and our circumstances.

‘All healthy human beings have an inner stream of thoughts and feelings that include criticism, doubt and fear. That’s just our minds doing the job they were designed to do: trying to anticipate and solve problems and avoid potential pitfalls.’
Susan David and Christina Congleton. Australian Financial Review, Dec to Jan 2014.

      Our species has thrived partly because our thoughts are so nimble and diverse. The more ludicrous and outlandish our thoughts, the more likely we are to link disparate facts and come up with something brilliant. However, having those nimble thoughts means we have to experience the unwanted thoughts as well, so it’s no use criticising ourselves for having them.
      Do you remember Charlotte in Farmer Brown’s paddock? Emotions visited Alice and she gave them permission to stay with her. She listened to what they had to say, and when they felt heard, they left.
     In the same way, let’s give our thoughts permission to be with us..

‘I, . . . . . . officially give myself permission to allow any thought to come to me, no matter how unwanted it might be. I will hear what it has to say.’ 

Q. ‘An example, please?’
Notice repetitive thoughts. ‘I’m insulting myself again.’ . . . ‘I keep thinking about what she said to me this morning’ . . . ‘I have been thinking a lot lately about how I look’ . . . . ‘I make a lot of jokes about the same subject.’ . . .  ‘I keep having that same daydream, with the same ending.’
  Think about those thoughts and search for what is behind them. Get to know yourself. That’s one big step towards getting a handle on life.

Q. ‘If I am a serial killer planning my fifteenth murder, is it okay to have those thoughts? If I am suicidal and thinking of how to kill myself, is it okay to keep thinking about suicide? If my thoughts are racist, can I give myself permission to keep thinking those thoughts? Is that what you’re saying?’
You’re going to have those thoughts anyway, so become acquainted with them. Search to see where they’re coming from. What emotions are behind them? Are there ‘shoulds’ behind them? Why am I having those thoughts?

In short, welcome your thoughts. Give your thoughts permission to be, and observe them without judgement. Get to know yourself.
  The benefits?
(1) Our thoughts will ‘feel heard’. They will haunt us less, and their weight upon us will diminish.
(2) The less judgmental we are of our thoughts, the more accepting of ourselves we will become.
(3) The more we get to know what we are feeling and thinking, the less tossed about by the world we will be. As a result, we add to our inner authority, and discover that we can handle life.

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It’s okay to be judgmental, but . . .

Posted on April 18, 2019 by Mr Bashful

Most of the time judgments are helpful. We evolved to make them. In prehistory they increased our chances of survival, and still do. (We have to make judgments to cross a road.) There is, however, a difference between judging people and being judgmental:

(A) ‘He’s a homeless person who I probably can’t trust implicitly.’
           (This observation might be right or wrong, but it’s made to help the speaker make a decision.)
(B) ‘He’s a homeless person who is probably an alcoholic or mentally ill.’
           (This observation might be right or wrong, but it’s spoken to edify.)
(C) ’He’s a homeless person, which means he’s a loser.’
               This observation is the judgmental one.

Being judgmental is natural. As infants we absorb information, sponge-like, and grow up clinging to ideas about how things should be, so it’s understandable that when someone behaves contrary to our expectations we might be disconcerted and look at them askance. But the insecure among us (and almost all of us are insecure in some way) might be judgmental because it can give us comfort and certainty. For example, some of us:
1) are judgmental of others because we want to argue with our own inner voice telling us we ourselves have unacceptable flaws.
     However, when we perceive people to be inferior to us it reinforces our belief that we ourselves are flawed, because when we judge people we are also judging ourselves with the same criteria. We then spend energy trying to assure ourselves that we are okay, that we ‘pass.’ But that won’t work. Only when we let go of our judgments of others can we begin to feel less pressure on ourselves to be worthy.

‘When you judge someone what you are really trying to do is find a way of saying “I’m better than you”, even if it is a silent, internal conversation. You gain nothing of any value by thinking you are better than someone else – only a momentary ego boost, a false sense of pride or support for a racial, moral or social stereotype, which are all best avoided.’
Domonique Bertolucci, ‘The Happiness Code’.

2) Some of us place people into easy-to-criticise categories, because it’s convenient. It saves us the trouble of thinking.
     But we may come to fear the people we judge because we have distanced ourselves from them; we have severed our connection with them. And, because our prejudices are simplistic and inaccurate, we have to keep fooling ourselves to maintain our position. We have to persist with our bigotry and remain close-minded, lest our belief systems crumble and the abyss yawns.

3) Some of us are judgmental because we have been taught bigoted views in childhood, and those views feel right and comfortable.
     However, those imprinted beliefs are disabling because they’re inaccurate. They give us a distorted view of the world and that can limit us. Although our beliefs feel right and true, to someone who has not been similarly imprinted we can look like a goose.

4) Some of us judge others because we want the approval of our friends.
     But when we strengthen our connection with judgmental friends we diminish our connection with humanity. So, in the long run we lose. And, if our friends are judgmental, you can bet they will be judgmental of us when we step out of line.

5) Some of us are judgmental because we want to create a picture of how the world should be. By knowing what to expect, we gain a feeling of control, and feel a little safer.
    But judgments are often wrong and expectations are rarely met.  So the ‘safe’ world becomes unpredictable, and not so safe. Anxiety results.
    
In short, the quick assumptions we make allow us to think our lives are running smoothly. And, on the surface at least, our judgments of others can help us feel good about ourselves. Judgments provide certainty, and with that certainty we evade anxiety.
  The thing is, resilience comes not from evading anxiety, but from experiencing scary situations and discovering we can handle them. So, instead of making quick and easy judgments to help us feel comfortable, we need instead to embrace the uncertainty that comes from not making judgments. It’s then we discover we can handle uncertainty – we can handle life.
  Then we no longer need to make the world safe, because our resilience makes us feel safe. Our mind relaxes. We become easygoing and more accepting of others. More importantly, we become more accepting of ourselves.
  Further, we become open to the complex nuances of people’s personalities, and gain a deeper understanding of people, and of humanity. We feel connected with them, and satisfy that other important innate need: the ‘deep need to belong’.
   Plus, by letting go of our expectations of others we feel less pressure to conform to their expectations. Anxiety evaporates.
  With fewer expectations we become less influenced by society’s paradigms, so we see the world in a clearer light. That builds within us a capacity to think for ourselves.
  And with that clearer vision, and with that deeper confidence, we appear perceptive, easygoing, tolerant and mature – someone who can be relied upon. More importantly, we don’t just appear to be that person, we become that person.

I’m not going to tell you to stop being judgmental. After all, we can’t simply ditch our judgments and replace them with a manufactured easygoing attitude. Suggesting that would be useless advice. We judge people for the compelling reasons listed above, so telling you to stop judging people is not going to work.
     So, what do we do?
     We can allow ourselves to judge people, but deal with our judgment.
How?
(1) We can become easygoing so that we don’t feel the need to make judgments. We can employ Edward de Bono’s shrug, for instance.
(2) We can learn to let go of our judgments. Steps below.

‘The art of living in two words: letting go . . .     It’s letting go of our judgments, our expectations, of wanting to be right, of wanting to control, of wanting things to turn out exactly as we’d like them to turn out, of wanting people to act a certain way . . .     It’s recognising the tightness that stems from our desire for things to be a certain way . . .
     It’s noticing when we are holding these thoughts, and letting go. Loosening our heart’s grip on any of these, and letting go. And then letting go again. And again . . .    
     And so the art of living is a practice, one that doesn’t end, that doesn’t have a mastery level. It’s a constant letting go, a constant picking up again, and then letting go again.’
      Edited excerpts from articles by Leo Babauta in his blog, ‘Zen Habits’.

Letting go of our judgments
Step 1. Notice your judgment, even if your judgment is a sound, astute observation. Notice yourself saying things like,
‘He should be more . . . wait, I’m judging again. That’s interesting.’
‘She is a bitch and . . . oh, that’s a judgement, isn’t it. I’m judging her.’
’He is so arrogant . . . wait, I’m judging.’
Don’t criticise yourself for being judgmental. Your job is to notice when you do it.
  Also, notice yourself gossiping.  Gossip is, after all, a form of judging. When someone’s behaviour falls outside the expectations we hold for ourselves, our values are challenged. Gossiping with a collaborator helps reinforce our values and makes us feel safe again. (And it feeds our ego.) But our own values might be skewed or rigid, in which case the last thing we need do is reinforce them.
     Even if our own values are not skewed or rigid, and are of a high standard, it is still gossip. Notice it. Say to yourself, ‘I’m gossiping now. That means I’m judging.’  

Step 2: Remind yourself that your judgments say a lot about your insecurities, and that they’re disabling you.
(1) We can become inflexible. When we can’t change, we can’t grow.
(2) When we get good at judging others we get good at judging ourselves. So, we might mistake our compassion for weakness, or see nastiness in ourselves instead of our fear. Worse, we can end up wondering if we meet the standards of the people we like and respect.
(3) When we judge people we sever our connection with them, and we might come to fear them. We also satisfy less our deep need to belong.
(4) By holding prejudices we can look like a goose.
(5) We fail to see the subtleties of people. We might, for example, judge a person to be arrogant, and fail to see the insecurities behind their behaviour. So, instead of seeing people, we see shadows, and condemn ourselves to living in a two dimensional world from which we get little satisfaction.
(6) We can make foolish decisions. How many employers have missed out on good workers because of the prejudices they hold?
(7) When we are judgmental it means we will have more ‘shoulds’ that can be violated. That means we are less likely to be easygoing and relaxed.
(8) The ‘certainty’ our judgments provide will increase our anxiety, not lower it. Only when we can embrace uncertainty can we develop the feeling that we can handle life.

Being judgmental limits considerably how we understand the world, how we understand the people we know, and how we understand ourselves.

Step 3. Lastly, let your judgment drift away. Let it evaporate. Get on with the business of living.
     ‘Ah, I’m being judgmental. That’s fine, but I will let it go.’
     ‘That’s a judgement. I can do without that.’  Then let it go. Or,
     ‘My judgement might be right, but it doesn’t matter. It’s a judgement and I can let it go.’
  If you feel the need to ask someone to pick up their litter, do it, but if you find yourself judging them as well, let that judgment drift away. If someone is in a pool of vomit, assist them. If someone is acting weirdly, shrug. If someone acts inappropriately, speak with them. In each case, if you make a judgment as well, let it drift away. Don’t feed it. Don’t hold onto it. Mentally shrug and move on. It is not serving you.
  
When we develop the habit of consciously letting our judgments drift away, we come to realise how irrelevant judgments are to our life. We see them as trivial. By giving them no importance we come to realise we don’t need them, and we become less reliant on them to feel better about ourselves. Result: we become less judgmental of others and of ourselves. And so, we treat others, and ourselves, better.

In short, let’s be in the habit of noticing our judgments and letting them drift away.

Bonus step: Afterwards, you might want to reflect.

– What ‘should’ have I adopted that prompted me to be judgmental in that instance?
– From where did I get that ‘should’?
– What is in the mind of the person I’m judging? Are they suffering? Do they value things differently? Have they had experiences I haven’t?
– In what way do I benefit from being judgmental of that person?

Q. ‘You’re suggesting I chill out and become easygoing. But I’m an activist. If I became easygoing I would lose my drive to get things done.’
On the contrary, if you develop the ability to become easygoing you can choose your battles wisely and focus your energies on your projects.

Q. ‘Mark, are you judgmental?’
Yep. I was taught to eat with my mouth closed, to cover my mouth when I yawn, to withhold a burp, to not litter . . . and when I see people not complying with those customs I feel judgmental. I’m judgmental about all sorts of things. The important thing is, I notice them and let them drift away.
  I’m a lot less judgmental than I used to be.

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Dealing with unwanted thoughts.

Posted on April 17, 2019 by Mr Bashful

‘Write kindness in marble; your injuries in dust.’
Persian proverb.

Q. ‘I often find myself thinking negative thoughts. What can I do to stop having them?’
Applying the keys in this book will, over time, allow you to have fewer negative thoughts. Meanwhile, trying to control our thoughts (and feelings) is problematical, because they come to us unbidden. Rather than stopping them, let’s first accept them and listen to what they have to say. (Let’s label them.) Then we can ask them to leave, by any of the following methods:

Method 1. Retract your negative thoughts and statements.
Retract it whether or not you think it was an accurate thought to have. For example, if you say to yourself (or say out loud to someone),
‘Gosh, I’m stupid.’
‘That person is so stupid —’
think to yourself, or say out loud, ‘I retract that.’
‘Gosh, I’m stupid – No, I retract that.’
‘That person is so stupid – Wait, I’m being judgmental again. I retract that.’

Retract these winey expressions as well. They undermine you.  them, or rephrase them to be accurate.
‘Things never turn out well.’
‘I’m never lucky.’
‘It always happens to me.’
‘Typical.’
‘You never —’
‘You always — ’

A simple retraction is enough, but if you wish, rephrase the complaint to make it accurate.
‘Things never turn out well.’ ‘Things haven’t turned out well in this instance.’
‘I’m never lucky.’     ‘I wasn’t lucky in this instance.’

When we habitually describe a situation accurately (and therefore, without the unnecessary negativity) we become less harsh with ourselves and with others.

Method 2. Remind yourself that it’s normal to make mistakes, and you are allowed to make them.
‘I retract that. I am not an idiot; I made a mistake and I’m allowed to make mistakes.’
‘I retract that. He isn’t silly; what he said was silly. I say silly things sometimes. We all do.’

Method 3. Use imagery. For those of you who can think in pictures, try this: If you catch yourself having a negative thought, stand where you are and then walk away while visualising the negative being left behind. Or, ‘paste’ the thought onto an imagined cow (or a missle) and shoo that cow away. Do it every time the cow blunders in (every time you have that thought).

‘Think of your thoughts like pop-up ads on the internet that might be a nuisance, but you don’t have to buy what they are selling.
Unknown.

‘By making the comment come from a cartoonish outsider instead, it makes it easier to say “No, that isn’t true and I refuse to listen to you.”’
Unknown.

Method 4. Remind yourself that your negative thoughts are only one aspect of your personality, so don’t attach significance to them.

‘Thoughts about yourself that are dark, brooding and negative are a part of you, not the whole. Don’t allow these to define who you are; it’s an untruth to yourself if you do. Every person is a contradiction and a mixture of light, shade and dark and we each spend a lifetime balancing these aspects of ourselves.’
From the Wikihow site.

Method 5. Honour the part within you that doesn’t believe you are bad.
If you find a part of you that sticks up for you, support it. Honour it. It needs your support.

Method 6. Look for your deeper concerns.
‘Why do I feel anxious about being unproductive?’
‘What precisely is it about dogs that I fear?’
‘Why do I often imagine arguing with my boss? What is my deeper concern?’
‘Where do my racist thoughts come from? What is it that I fear? Or resent?’
Discovering your deeper concerns will loosen their hold on you.

Method 7. Be angry with yourself, but in a healthy constructive manner.
This tip has its own chapter, ‘Be Angry With Yourself‘. In short, you have every right to be angry, but find a healthy way to express it. No self-blame, no self-insults. You will fulfil the urge to be self-critical without actually being self-critical.

Other methods:

‘When you have a negative thought say to your brain: ‘Poor brain, you’re frustrated,’ or  ‘Goodbye, Thought.’
(From Dr Harris in his book, ‘The Happiness Trap’.) This suggestion was in the earlier chapter about dealing with emotional beliefs. It’s here as well because it’s good for dealing with all negative thoughts. Here’s a reminder:
In the same way you say goodbye to your disabling beliefs, say goodbye to your thoughts:
‘Here’s that thought about me being bad. Hello thought. Goodbye.’
‘Here comes the “I’m the victim” story. Hello story. Goodbye.’
‘Hi thought, see you later.’

A suggestion from Amanda McClintock: ‘. . . one of the best things I found was this one lesson, this one week, and I can’t even remember what it was called, but it was fantastic. Basically, I had to pick a thought that . . . would go through my head all the time. And that one thought for me was “I’m not worth it. No one wants me here, I’m just not worth being here.” During the next week . . . every time that thought would come into my head, I had to sing it. Like, say it in a silly voice, put it in an accent. I had to draw it on a piece of paper and put decorations all around it so it looked like a “Happy Birthday” banner up. I had to sing the words “I’m not worth it” to “Happy Birthday” or “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. It made the thought sound ridiculous. It made it sound like the most ridiculous thing on the face of the earth, so it makes you laugh. . . . “Why would I even think that? It’s just not true.” Putting it in that ridiculous sense made it seem so much less of an issue.’
From the SBS television program, ‘Insight’, with presenter Jenny Brockie. 29th March, 2011.

‘I would just play devil’s advocate with my own thoughts. “That’s rubbish, that’s ridiculous.” Sometimes I would say things out loud to myself or just do something to interrupt that thought pattern so I could then move on and that fear would dissipate.’
Kate Warner, from the same Insight program.

‘Force yourself to concentrate on something else until the urge passes.’
Guy Winch.

‘When a person becomes unusually depressed about an event in her life, it’s often because of three mental distortions: (1) she feels that the situation is permanent; (2) she feels that it is critical, meaning that it’s more significant than it really is, and (3) that it is all-consuming, that it will invade and pervade other areas of her life. When any or all of these beliefs are present and elevated, it will dramatically increase her anxiety and despondency. Conversely, when we think of a problem as temporary, isolated, and insignificant, it doesn’t concern us at all. By artificially inflating or deflating these factors in the mind of another, you can instantly alter their attitude toward any situation, be it positive or negative.’
David J. Lieberman, in his book, ‘Never Be Lied To Again.’

So, you have a heap of methods to choose from. Choose one and give it a go!

 

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Take responsibility for how your life unfolds.

Posted on April 15, 2019 by Mr Bashful

I’m audaciously dividing people into three groups:

Group 1.  These people are never at fault. When things go wrong they blame their boss, their spouse, the government, society, the weather bureau . . . They spend their lives complaining and blaming, yet fail to see the part they play in their troubles. If their relationship is lousy they blame their partner and refuse to see the part they play in their troubles. They expect their partner to change, and complain when that change doesn’t come.
     They think everyone should change but them.
     They don’t admit to their mistakes, so they can’t grow. They get left behind, wondering why their relationships aren’t working, why their life is a mess, and why people don’t comply with their expectations.
      Their sense of self is tied to being right. If anyone dares to suggest they are wrong they take it personally and feel threatened, humiliated, or angry. They become defensive, and sometimes aggressive.
      Even if they admit to having a problem, it will still be someone else’s fault. They won’t acknowledge the part they play in their troubles because it would mean confronting their need to be right and their need for control.

Group 2.  These people are the opposite. When something goes wrong in their life they look too hard for the part they played. If their child is bullied, they blame themselves for not raising a more confident child. If their child fails a test they blame themselves for not ensuring their child did more homework. If they have relationship problems they assume it is they who are at fault. These people are so expert at looking for what they did wrong they ignore all other contributing factors.
     They take responsibility for everything, and are burdened by it. So, when they approach a new task they feel daunted by the enormous weight they are about to place upon themselves. Sometimes the task before them is so loaded with potential failure they feel paralysed.
     To them, Life is a continual test of pass or fail. When they look back on their life they don’t see it as a journey of growth, or as an adventure lived, instead they see the speed humps, the mistakes, the times when they could have done better.
     Why do they do this? Because, like the first group, they also need to be in control. The first group try to control by insisting they are right and blameless; this second group try to control by taking responsibility for everything. But by taking responsibility for every aspect of their life they feel overwhelmed with burdens, become full of regrets, and are destined to be anxious.

Group 3.  The first two groups comprise people who either don’t look for the part they play in their troubles, or who only look for the part that they play. Both groups are, in their own way, trying to control their world.
     People in the third group don’t try to control their world; they allow it to happen. When they make a mistake they admit to it (unlike the first group) but (unlike the second group) don’t indulge in self-recrimination. Instead, they acknowledge their mistake and accept the consequences.
     And, importantly, they are gentle on themselves. As a result, they get good at distinguishing between what they are responsible for, and what they aren’t. So, they don’t waste time avoiding responsibility, and they don’t waste time taking responsibility for issues over which they have little or no control. They look at the mistakes that matter, and focus upon preventing them from happening again. And focus on the part they can change.
     These people understand that if they blame the past to explain their current situation, they will achieve nothing, but if they understand the past in order to make changes for the future, they can achieve a great deal. The first abrogates responsibility, the second takes responsibility.
     With this approach they find solutions to problems, and ways to prevent those problems from recurring. As a result they become capable. And, because they don’t blame themselves, or others, they earn respect.
     More importantly, they feel safe in the world, because by taking responsibility for the things they can change, and being gently philosophical over that which they can’t, they come to believe that whatever happens, they’ll handle it. They become resilient.

‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.’
An excerpt from Reinhold Niebuhr’s ‘The Serenity Prayer’

Which group of people do you belong to?
Which group of people would you like to belong to?
Which group of people do you aim to belong to?

Q. ‘You say we should take responsibility for how our lives unfold. Does that mean we should avoid seeking help?’
No. If you need help, ask for it. Finding help is a good way to take responsibility.

Q. ‘Are you saying beggars can’t be happy because they don’t take responsibility for themselves?’
If a beggar blames passers-by for not giving money then yes, the beggar is abrogating responsibility. If the beggar accepts the refusals without complaint and without judgement, then as far as I am concerned, that beggar is taking responsibility. It’s about how we respond to what happens in our life.

Q. ‘Where does self-criticism fit in?’
It doesn’t. It’s a copout. When you throw your hands up in the air in weary resignation and say, ‘I am to blame’ or ‘It’s my fault’ you see yourself as the problem instead of the solution. Self-blame is a way of saying, ‘I give up, I’m hopeless’. That’s a great way to avoid taking responsibility.
     If instead you were to focus on rectifying the problem, you would be focusing on what needs to happen in the future. That’s taking responsibility.

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Look for the part you played when something goes wrong in your life.

Posted on April 12, 2019 by Mr Bashful

‘No one can really pull you up very high – you lose your grip on the rope. But on your own two feet you can climb mountains.’           
Louis Brandeis.

Years ago I heard that when Japanese weather forecasters failed to correctly predict the weather they had to explain to their superiors why their predictions wrong. I was dismayed. ‘How unfair!’ I thought. ‘They would have been doing their best. No one can consistently and accurately predict the weather.’  I pictured angry, puffy-faced men in suits castigating stressed workers.
     Years later I realised the truth. There would have been no blame involved, no abuse. It was a good idea! By having to work out why their predictions were wrong, those forecasters would have gained knowledge, and over the years, improved.

On my soapbox at Speakers’ Corner I talk to my grasshoppers about all sorts of things. One day, when I was asking them to look for the part they played when things go wrong in their life, a man spoke up. ‘That’s not fair,’ he said, ‘you’re blaming the victim! If I get mugged, why should I look for the part I played?’
     I told him, ‘I’m not suggesting you blame yourself. Blame is a cop-out. I’m asking you to look for the part you played. Be dispassionate about it. Be like a scientist making an observation. Leave the judgements aside.’
     ‘But why should I look for the part I played if I get mugged?’ the man persisted, ‘Surely the mugger is the one at fault!’
     I took from my bag an orange and told the man, ‘I’m about to gently throw this orange to you. Catch it. Okay?’
     He nodded, and I threw the orange to him. He caught it, puzzled, and gave it back to me.
     I asked him, ‘In that little incident, what part did you play?’
     ‘I caught it, like you asked me.’
     ‘You did more than catch it,’ I told him. ‘First, you agreed to catch it. You remained where you were, facing me. You watched the orange arc towards you.  In your mind you made judgments on the orange’s trajectory. You moved your arms to ensure your hands would meet that approaching orange. You opened your hands to catch it. When the orange hit your hands, your fingers wrapped around it to clasp it.’
     ‘So?’
     ‘So, together we have just looked for the part you played in catching that orange. There was no self-blame, no victimisation, no focus on rights. It was simply a dispassionate and thorough examination of your role in the incident.’
     ‘So?’
     ‘So, if something goes wrong in your life, look for the part you played with the same dispassionate thoroughness. There may not be one, but look for it anyway. Get into the habit of looking.’
    ‘What about the mugger? What about him?’
   ‘He has to take 100% responsibility for his actions. But that doesn’t stop you from taking 100% responsibility for the part you played, if there was one. That goes for all aspects of life. If you hire a tradie, the tradie should take 100% responsibility in fulfilling their obligations, while you take 100% responsibility fulfilling yours. When both parties take full responsibility for what happens, things get done.’
     The man stared at me, doubtful. I continued: ‘Many a good marriage thrives on co-dependence, with each spouse taking 100% responsibility for the part they play in the marriage.’
      I could see he was not impressed. He said, ’So even if I’m walking about, minding my own business, and I get mugged, I still need to look to see if it was partly my fault?’
      ‘Fault isn’t the word,’ I told him. ‘But yes, you need to look for the part you played. You might discover you played no part, in which case, that’s it. If you do find that you played a part, you are closer to ensuring it doesn’t happen again.’
     ‘Humph.’
     I added, ‘It’s a healthy habit to have. When you are in the habit of looking for the part you played when things go wrong, you get good at anticipating problems, and solving them. You become competent. You develop that feeling that whatever happens, you’ll handle it. Which means, of course, less anxiety and increased resilience.’
     He wandered off. He had heard that bit before.

When something goes wrong in our life we need to look for the part we played, without the self-blame. We can ask ourselves: ‘What part did I play?’ and ‘What can I do differently next time?’
     There may not be a part that we played, but we still need to look for it.

‘When you take responsibility for your decisions, you become a lot less angry at the world, and most important, a lot less angry at yourself!’
Susan Jeffers, from her book Feel the Fear and do it Anyway.

‘We have not passed that subtle line between childhood and adulthood until we move from the passive voice to the active voice – that is, until we stop saying “It got lost”, and say ‘I lost it.’   
Sydney J. Harris.  U.S. journalist.

‘With every failure, every crisis, every difficult time, I say, “What is this here to teach me?” And as soon as you get the lesson, you get to move on. If you really get the lesson, you pass and you don’t have to repeat the class.’    
Oprah Winfrey.

In short, when something goes wrong in our life it’s okay to complain bitterly, for as long as we need. That’s part of the healing. But if we want to avoid a life of turmoil then it’s best we also search for, and find, the part we played in the incident, and for the bit we can change in future.
  When we get into that habit we make ourselves accountable to ourselves, and that’s a big part of growing up, and a big help in preventing problems from occurring in future.
  But harping self-criticism won’t help. Nor will kidding ourselves that we played no part.

Q. ‘Please give an example of someone employing this philosophy.’
Instead of saying, ‘My dog is disobedient,’ look for the part you play in your dog’s misbehaviour. You might conclude that you haven’t trained your dog properly, and that’s the part you can change. By looking for the part we play – without indulging in self-criticism – we get our act together. We start to solve problems. We don’t get the same problem recurring, because we have taken responsibility for it.
      But if we continue to blame the dog for its misbehaviour and ignore the part we are playing, we will continue to have a disobedient dog.
      Another example? If we are in a relationship and don’t feel respected by our partner, we can either:
a) blame our partner for not giving us more respect, or
b) ask ourselves, ‘What part am I playing in this?’ and ‘What can I do differently? What do I need to do to be treated respectfully?’ We might even be prompted to ask a question like, ‘Why am I in this relationship?’
      By looking for the part we play we discover the bit we can change. That empowers us. We become a problem solver.

Q. ‘If someone takes responsibility for how they respond to an incident, isn’t there a good chance they will blame themselves?’
Don’t confuse taking responsibility with taking the blame. This section is not about taking responsibility for Life’s events, it’s about taking responsibility for how we respond to Life’s events. Self-blame won’t get you anything but suffering. To spend time blaming yourself is to avoid taking responsibility. It indicates that you’re not yet prepared to fix the problem.
     Self-blame is a whinge about the past; taking responsibility is a focus on the future.

‘When you stop blaming other people or circumstances for your problems you will cease being a passenger in your own life. Instead, you will find yourself in the driver’s seat going places you never thought possible.’
E M Hanley, No Problem!

Q ‘My wife and I are often late for appointments because she is so slow to get ready. If I am on time, why should I look for the part I play in the problem?’
     By doing so you might solve the problem.
     ‘It’s not my fault if my wife dawdles! I can’t physically pick her up and get her ready!’
     If your wife continues to make you both late you might be contributing in some way. Or, you might not be. You will find the answer by looking for the part you play in the problem.
     ‘So, what can I do to get her moving?’
     I don’t know, but it’s the right question.
     ‘Help me out here!’
      You might ask her questions about what getting ready means to her. Does she benefit from taking her time? In what way? Does she benefit from being late? What would need to happen for her to be ready on time? What would she require?
     Be tactful. Don’t ask questions to make her feel bad, ask questions to find answers. Be aware that your wife might not know the answers. Rephrase a question if necessary.
     By asking these questions you are taking responsibility. You are not trying to force her to change her behaviour; you are looking for the part you play. Her answers might reveal that part. For example, her answer might be that she gets enormous pleasure from the act of getting ready; it’s a ritual she relishes and one she won’t rush. That means, the part you have been playing was to not realise that, and not allow for it.
     Or, there could be another reason. Whatever the case, it’s your job to search for the part you might be playing.

Q. ‘If I had been locked in a closet for the first ten years of my life, surely I could blame my parents if I became neurotic? It would be galling to have to look for the part I played in being neurotic!’
You would have every right to be angry and blaming – that’s part of healing. But blaming your parents for your misery until you die won’t help. To get over your ordeal, at some stage you would have to look at the part you play in the pain you feel. It could help with your healing.
  If, for example, you find that you are avoiding seeking help, or dwelling on the incident, or maintaining the rage, you might choose to change that behaviour.
     ‘So my parents are absolved?’
     No. But you need to heal. By looking for the part you play in your suffering you will get closer to healing.

Q. ‘If I look for the part I played every time something goes wrong, I will feel burdened.’
On the contrary, you will feel lighter and stronger, and far more resilient, because you will find that the solution to many of your problems rests with you. That’s empowering. It’s the people who refuse to see the part they play in their troubles who feel burdened, because they encounter the same problems over and over. They have given away their power.

Lloyd: ’I taught her, but she still can’t do it.’ 
     Can you see Lloyd’s mistake? What if Lloyd instead asked himself, ‘She still can’t do it. What part did I play? Did I spend enough time with her to ensure she learned the task properly?’
      Lloyd might then be prompted to ask himself, ‘What is another way I can teach her? How can I ensure she learns?’
     By looking for the part he played, Lloyd is closer to achieving his aim.

Jenny: ‘His antics spoilt my night.’
     Can you see how Jenny disempowers herself with that sentence?
     But notice what happens when she looks for the part she played: ‘Why did I allow that to happen? What could I have done to prevent it? What can I do to ensure it doesn’t happen again?’

Wayne: ‘My boss ruined my day.’ 
     Weak, hey? But now Wayne looks for the part he played:
      ‘Did I allow it to happen? No. There is nothing to suggest that I consented in anyway to that.’
     ‘Could I have done anything differently? No, my boss would have done the same thing anyway.’
     ‘What could I do to ensure it doesn’t happen again? Nothing. I can’t think of anything.’
     So, Wayne looked for the part he played in the shemozzle and found he had played no part. But importantly, he looked for it. We don’t always find a part that we play. Wayne may be unable to fix this particular problem with that approach, but if Wayne lives his life that way he will benefit considerably. He will significantly add to his inner authority.

‘Take your life in your own hands, and what happens? A terrible thing: no one to blame.’
Erica Jong.

Looking for the part we play is often not easy.  One day I was in a discussion with two friends and asked a question I believed to be fair and important. The result: The friendship ended. I looked to see the part I played and decided I had played no part. After all, the question needed to be asked.
     Years later I looked a little deeper and realised I had played a part: I should have asked the question tactfully, and discreetly. I had played a big part in the demise of our friendship after all.

Exercise:
Complete the following sentences by looking for the part the person played.

Example: Instead of:  ‘The applicant cheated me out of my money’, try ‘I inadvertently let the applicant cheat me, and in future I can check their references to ensure I am not cheated that way again.’
  Your turn:

‘They pressured me into doing it.’
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  and in future I can . . . . . . . . to ensure it doesn’t happen again.’

‘They treat me badly.’
‘No one takes me seriously.’
‘You make me feel like dirt.’
‘I failed the test because you distracted me.’
‘I fixed it but it keeps breaking.’

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
by Portia Nelson

1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost . . . I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there.
I still fall in . . . it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5
I walk down another street.

 

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