The Spirit and Roots of Generosity and Miserliness

Our culture and socio-political environment call for us to be jolly and generous in the holiday season.  Piles of solicitations from myriad organizations serving the needs of homeless children and helpless animals, museums and arts’ organizations tug at our consciences and yank at our heart strings.

Many of us experience these requests as demands and may resent what they experience as an obligation and feign the spirit of generosity.

On the other hand, what a great pleasure to give out of a real sense of gratitude and appreciation!

We know there is no strict correlation between economics and generosity. Some people possess no more than the basics and find giving easy. While others with an abundance of material wealth struggle to give.

One explanation lies in a person’s connection to money beyond the obvious power to purchase things. Money and material possessions can be an attempt to replace the love and nurturance the individual didn’t receive in early childhood. But “stuff” doesn’t gratify in the way genuine connections (of caring) about other people do.  It is those caring relationships with other people (and animals and causes) that give our lives meaning and fill us with positive feelings of generosity.

The classic story of Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol reinforces the truth of this disparity. Scrooge is a wealthy but stingy business man who hates Christmas and abuses his employees, demanding long hours and paying a meager salary.

But one night the three ghosts of Christmas visit him in a nightmare to inform him that people will be glad to be rid of him and he will die a miserable death if he doesn’t change.

Dickens, a genius writer and natural psychologist, intuited the roots of stinginess. The character of Scrooge experienced emotional deprivation early in his life. His mother died and his father resented his son’s existence. Furthermore, Scrooge botched up past opportunities to reform. He had been engaged to a beautiful, loving woman, who left him when she realized he cared more about money than about her.

In brief, Scrooge’s nightmare transforms him from a miserable miser to a generous and happy person. He also benefits by gaining a sense of his power to lessen suffering in the world.

We can experience gratitude and relief that our contributions are not vital to each and every cause; there are others to pitch in. Reality dictates that we have to be prudent and selective in our giving in order to take care of ourselves.

For example, in an overwhelming spirit of generosity, Ms. W. almost gave away her savings. Had she done so, she would be unable to take care of herself and would  become a burden to others. In brief, indiscriminate generosity could turn into disaster.

To return to the pile of solicitations, they can be organized into the following categories to help us decide to whom to give:

1. I have to give to this person/organization/cause because it is politic for my career, public image, etc., to do so. 

2.  I really want to give to this person/organization/cause out of feelings of gratitude and/or kinship.

3.  I really don’t have to give to this individual/cause/organization and won’t.

We can keep in mind the goal to experience generosity as power, not depletion. Expressing authentic giving, melts resentment like ice around the heart and becomes a gift to ourselves.

Conclusion: Generosity is a state of mind that goes beyond the possession of money and material goods and relates to feelings of abundance from positive connections. To own an authentic sense of generosity is a gift we give ourselves.

 Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts.  jsimon145@gmail.com

Keeping Our Eyes on the Ball: When (and Where) Expectations meet Goals

The goal in baseball is clear: to score a home run. In real life,

keeping our goal in sight and mind may be more complex than tracking a baseball in the air. We can get distracted, waylaid, and discouraged before we’re able to swing a bat, hit the ball and score the run.

Mr. W. for example, felt isolated after the death of his wife. For years, he had dreamed about writing his life story.  Expecting to meet people to encourage him, he joined a writing group,  In the beginning, he found the group to be supportive. But when one member suggested he change the focus of his essay, he felt criticized and angrily withdrew from the circle. Instead of seeking out another venue to pursue his goal, he allowed anger and hopelessness to overcome him, acting as if he’d been defeated, tackled and knocked to the ground,

Although he blamed others, perceiving the obstacle to be outside himself,  he was responsible for keeping his eye on the ball, the goal of writing his story. Had he kept his aim in mind, he might have reconsidered his decision to withdraw from his writing group.

Often, life doesn’t conform to our expectations and instead throws us curves, conflicting messages that alternate between encouragement and discouragement.

Another example is found in the recent film “The Imitation Game,” the story of Alan Turing, the mathematician considered the father of the modern computer. An outlier who evokes criticism, misunderstanding and abuse from people throughout his life, from schoolmates to military officials, he persists in his objective to break the German code of “Enigma,” save lives, and put an end to WW II.

Another real life example is Ms. B. Employed at a clinic she received appreciation for years until the administration changed. Although her work performance remained beyond reproach, no one seemed to care. Instead of feeling disheartened and quitting, she reframed her expectations.  Her goal was not to be appreciated, but to do a good job and earn a salary.

Conclusion:  We do well to define our ambition in order to gain the clarity of a baseball player who keeps his eye on the ball and home plate as his goal.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts. jsimon145@gmail.com

The Observing Self: A Tool Essential to Save Ourselves and Our Planet

When I mention the term “observing self” or “observing ego” most people look at me with a quizzical expression as if such talk should stay in my office. But the “observing self” has broad application in and outside the psychotherapist’s terrain because it can create an awareness of self and a sense of place in the world.

The observing ego, or the split between our experience and our observation of it, allows us to perceive and change. By contrast, without the observing self, we experience ourselves as “acted upon,” or lacking control, and In the extreme, as a victim, similar to a caged animal.  In short, developing an “observing self” early on and with great effort helps to impart agency. “Agency is not automatic,” The New York Times journalist David Brooks writes. “It has to be given birth to with pushing and effort. It’s not just the confidence and drive to act. It’s having engraved inner criteria to guide action. The agency moment can happen at any age, or never.” (The New York Times, “The Agency Moment,” November 14, 2014).

Early in our evolution, we humans perceived that we were at the mercy of the Gods. We believed that powers operated on us. We lacked a sense of agency and probably didn’t believe we could overcome fate. The course of development has shown that we possess the potential to change, but doing so requires the observing self.

An aspect of psychological treatment is to nurture the delicate seedling of the observing self, this sometimes mysterious entity that some of us possess at an early age and that some don’t acquire in spite of extensive psychotherapy.

For example, Mr. O. suffered severe abuse as a child. During his years of psychotherapy, he was able to develop a keen observing self/ego that alleviated his paranoia, freeing him from his psychological cage to grant him a wide panorama of his world of relationships.

By contrast, Ms. Q. did not develop an observing self. An aspect of the observing self is the ability to see ourselves in all dimensions-—our positive as well as our negative attributes. Ms. Q. continued to insist that her son was “the bad one,” the source of the problem, and to view herself in a positive light. She paced back and forth, like a caged animal, unable to help herself or her offspring. 

Parents can play a critical part in fostering a sense of agency during a child’s development. Preventive pediatrics is now recognized as vital to a child’s health and to a nation’s financial well-being. Preventive psychiatry—education for each and every parent—would be a great evolutionary step. We have the psychological knowledge but lack the awareness and the legal structure to institute the discipline.

The ground-work (of knowledge) has been laid in the textbooks of child development, but the recognition and implementation of this knowledge may not happen for centuries. The same phenomenon—-of “agency” and observation applies to each one of us as well as to our entire species.

Conclusion: It is the observing self that grants us a sense of “agency” with the capacity to change ourselves and our world.

Dear Reader, Your comments are welcome. Jsimon145@gmail.com

Writing Our Way to Awareness

Descartes, the 15^th century philosopher and writer said, “I think, therefore I exist.” A person who jots down daily thoughts (whom I will refer to as a journal-keeper) might say, “I write: therefore I exist.” Writing down our experiences, thoughts, and dreams,  can function as a mirror that reflects and validates,  affirms and reinforces who we are.

Journal-writing can be used in a crisis to resolve a dilemma, or to acknowledge emotions that we can’t share with anyone. Furthermore, it is available any time of the day or night. We don’t have to find a friend’s willing ear or wait for the hour of a psychotherapy session.

 As a ten year old, I jotted notes on a little blue plastic-covered pad to express the feelings of love and hate toward my infant brother, with whom I had to share the attention of my overburdened mother. I couldn’t control my feelings, but scribbling them down gave me a sense of power and control over them.

Journal-keeping can be experienced as opening the shutters of a cloistered house to let in fresh country air.  Or to turn to the city for a metaphor: like widening an avenue to allow heavy traffic (our thoughts and feelings) to pass.

Journal-writing isn’t the only way to work through one’s thoughts. A few decades ago, I worked as a physician at Odyssey House, the therapeutic community for people addicted to drugs.  There I met Ruth Lisa Schechter. a skilled poetry therapist. Ruth led groups with the residents, inspiring them to write about their lives. Their peers provided an appreciative audience that helped to validate and the past trauma. Many felt empowered, often for the first time in their lives.

Several of my clients have found journal-keeping valuable, whether they jot down notes on a scrap of paper to present during a session, or record their daily progress in a new, elegant notebook, year after year.

Examining our own thoughts and feelings doesn’t necessarily lead to narcissistic self-involvement. Becoming aware of ourselves helps us become aware of others.

Conclusion: Writing can put us in the driver’s seat of our lives, to serve as a powerful tool to self-awareness and empowerment.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts. jsimon145@gmail.com

The Power of Perversity

When a bicyclist disobeys a red light and almost strikes me, or a driver fails to yield the right of way to me, a pedestrian crossing with a green light  and within the boundaries of the crosswalk, I call out, “Thank you.” For some perverse reason, my sarcasm--the opposite of what I really feel or want to say--offers relief. What I really want to say is  “You’re a jerk for nearly hitting me and adding to the chaos of our city.”

The sarcasm is a mechanism for covering up--hiding my own aggressive feelings. If I react with anger, that meets the wrongdoer’s expectations. He’d dismiss me, feel validated, and think,  

 “Look at all the power I have to frighten her and make her angry.”

On the other hand, a sarcastically delivered “thank you” may baffle and confuse him.

“What? She’s thanking me for disobeying the rules and almost striking her? That is strange.”

This unexpected response could add chaos in his mind and even cause him to examine his actions.

Wishful thinking on my part? No doubt. Nevertheless, it helps me cope with the aggravations of urban life.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts.

The Gift of an Appreciative Audience

Our parents or caretakers comprise our first audience, and it is through our relationship with them, that we derive a sense of identity and self esteem.

The “good-enough” parent or caretaker provides an encouraging mirror, an interactive audience, to accurately reflect and encourage the child’s development.

If a parent hasn’t acquired the skill during the process of his own development, he may not know how to execute this crucial task.

Psychoanalyst, Heinz Kohut (1913-1981), considered the father of self psychology, described the process and the importance of being “mirrored” by empathic and care-giving others. Kohut focused on narcissism, the antithesis of a healthy sense of self worth, deriving his theory from personal experience; he was reared by a possessive mother.

(Narcissism results from a lack of empathy and understanding in early life. Although the narcissistic person appears to think highly of himself,  he is actually  suppressing feelings of low self-esteem and a sense of worthlessness.)

Ms. W. ‘s experience exemplifies a person who wasn’t accurately “mirrored.” A learning disability was labeled laziness and as a result, she developed the self-protective defense of narcissism that caused difficulty in her relationships with other people.

Parents who have been raised in an emotionally-depriving environment may not be able to recognize or gratify their infant’s needs, and in extreme cases, expect the child to serve their own.

Mr. A. grew up in an abusive household, and had to take care of his mother during her alcoholic binges. As a result, he had little sense of independence or self esteem.

Like the parent/caretaker, the psychotherapist serves as an appreciative, encouraging  audience as well as a mirror to reflect reality. Linking past experiences to psychological blocks is like adding a catalyst to facilitate a process.

Ms. L., an only child, had been raised by an anxious mother. Distraught, she brought in her newborn and said, “I don’t know what to do with this baby.”  I suggested that she observe and describe what she saw:  The beautiful baby who lay peacefully cooing on my couch.  As she gazed at him, she relaxed and realized all she had to do was to be in the moment with him.  Relieved, she quickly learned to become an appreciative, encouraging audience.

To a greater or lesser extent, each of us needs an audience.

The world-famous violinist Joshua Bell experimented to see what would happen when, anonymously and unannounced, he played classical music in the subway station. Passersby didn’t notice him and he acknowledged he was distressed by the lack of an appreciative audience. He tried the experiment again, this time announcing the event beforehand. Throngs gathered and he was gratified by the cheering crowd.

(An earlier blog post (March 29, 2012) addresses the topic of

“The Absent Audience,” and the dire case of Sargent Bales, accused of killing Afghan civilians, who suffered severe stress that failed to be acknowledged.)

Denied sufficient positive audience, a disturbed person may turn to destructive acts to capture attention. An extreme case is exemplified by Mark Chapman, who in 1980, gunned down the Beatle John Lennon. Psychologists analyzed his history and concluded that he suffered from a narcissistic personality disorder. They based their diagnosis in part on the fact that Chapman craved the audience that his hero, Mr. Lennon, attracted.

Conclusions: We humans require an audience throughout our lives, The most essential and formative time occurs in our early years of development. Parents or primary caretakers fulfill this vital role and determine much about our identity and self esteem.

Teaching parenting skills to every parent and caretaker would advance human progress by light years.

A haiku summarizes the truism. 

From the beginning

the infant needs an audience

to know who he is

Dear Reader, I welcome your comments. Jsimon145@gmail.com

The Task of the Modern Psychotherapist

What would Freud say if he overheard me offering medical advice to a client for a toenail infection? He might be horrified because he’d want to probe for the deeper meaning of the topic. Imagining this

conversation with the great psychoanalyst inspired me to address some changes in the practice of psychotherapy and psychoanalysis since Freud’s time.

Of course like Freud, the psychotherapist aspires to the motto that  “Nothing human is alien to me.” Ideally, we’re not shocked by any confession, and we’re sworn to honor a client’s privacy, except in situations of potential suicide or homicide.

Freud believed that the mind is a blank slate or tabula rasa in Latin. The question then becomes to what extent does heredity, opposed to the environment, impact the tabula rasa of the developing brain. A simple answer today is that our perceptions of the mind change in accordance with discoveries in neuroscience.

For example, disorders like autism and attention deficit disorder, recognized and treated early in a person’s life, portend a more favorable prognosis. This observation connects and supports the hereditary nature of both conditions, and the environmental factors (involved in timing) of treatment. In other words, early intervention has a greater impact on the developing brain, and implies that windows of opportunity close rapidly.

Today psychotherapy is not restricted to an exploration of the unconscious, nor to the wealthy, elite, artistic, or intellectual.  The variety of psychotherapeutic techniques has broadened, and the psychotherapist hopes to meet the client’s challenges rather than adhering to a theory.

Freud’s outlook was decidedly more deterministic than today’s open-ended approach. Diagnosis doesn’t necessarily determine prognosis. We know we don’t have all the answers and expect the unexpected regarding possibilities and potential. Like the stock market, the outcome of psychotherapy is unpredictable: Past performance doesn’t predict or guarantee future results.

For example, a patient of mine, whom I refer to as Mr. Z., began psychotherapy following an affair. He questioned whether he should leave his wife. As therapy progressed, he was surprised to realize that he, himself, was the problem, not his spouse. He could barely tolerate his own company. He simply didn’t like himself. His outlook changed: Instead of focusing on what his life lacked, he began to appreciate his partner and home life.

For Freud, an objective of treatment was to convert neurotic suffering to the universal suffering of humankind. Today, the psychotherapist is more likely to focus on the positive aspects of life, like transformation and appreciation.

We live longer and recognize the capacity and human potential to change: We have the chance to engage in multiple careers, relationships, hobbies, interests, and travel. The psychotherapist supports change and maintains an open mind regarding the ability of a client to transform his life.  Our objective is to help the client become aware of how, when, and why he may get in the way of his goals (for example, fears of change, success, failure).

Regardless of a therapist’s orientation ­­­­––interactive, relational, psychodynamic, behavioral, cognitive––the “good-enough” psychotherapist conveys a belief in his client, and supports his efforts to improve his life and become the best, authentic person possible. (The term “good-enough” originates from the psychoanalyst, D.W. Winnicott, who applied the term to mothering).

Conclusion: The “good-enough” psychotherapist adapts theories to relate and collaborate with clients to support their growth and help examine obstacles that interfere with their constructive goals.

Dear Reader, I welcome your thoughts. jsimon145@gmail.com