Conflict Isn't Crazy

From the beginning of time, humankind has been faced with conflict. The story of Adam and Eve embodies one of the oldest struggles: between good and evil, or an alternate interpretation between innocence and knowledge.

Fortunately some choices don’t create conflict. The child who chooses between red and blue overalls knows that his favorite color is red. (No one has yet derailed his sense of agency or will).

Experiencing conflict, although confusing, can actually be a sign of mental health. Conversely, the fear of exploring options can be hampering.   Mr. A., for example, was  raised by an abusive, alcoholic father, who hit him for reasons he couldn’t understand.  As a result, Mr. A. was fearful of making the “wrong” choice that would result in punishment. Therefore, he tried to squelch conflicts. This theme played out in his life, preventing him from speaking up for himself, and creating anxiety and psychosomatic symptoms. Recognizing the source of his fear helped him resolve the issue.

Conflicts don’t always just arise from personal experience: culture as a whole can create them. As Samuel Huntington asserted in his 1992 Clash of Civilizations, the primary source of global conflict now lies in cultural and religious identities, which can have very personal ramifications.

Ms. D., for instance, experiences the results of this conflict. Raised from birth in the U.S. by parents from a Balkan country who expect her to agree to an arranged marriage, she is torn between choosing  smooth relationships with her family or American customs. A conflict of this nature can take years to resolve.

Our psyches can delude us when we equate certainty with stability. The classic poem, Richard Cory by the poet Edward Arlington Robinson (1869-1935) graphically portrays a person who appears to have his life together but suffers unbearable turmoil.

Richard Cory

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,

We people on the pavement looked at him:

He was a gentleman from sole to crown,

Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,

And he was always human when he talked;

But still he fluttered pulses when he said,

“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—

And admirably schooled in every grace:

In fine, we thought that he was everything

To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,

And went without the meat, and cursed the bread.

And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,

Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Conclusion: Conflict is inherent in the human condition and is more likely to cause problems when we fail to acknowledge, rather than face, it.

Dear Reader: I look forward to your comments.

 Jsimon145@gmail.com.

Love and Need: What’s the Difference?

On the week of Valentine’s Day my mind drifts to the subject of love versus need, a topic with which each of us deals in our own way. In essence, love is a luxury, while need is obligatory.

Love has a broad range: from positive connections to inanimate objects, to our vocations and avocations, to a deep sense of caring and concern for another person(s). 

In our culture we harbor the lofty expectation that romantic love and the fulfillment of our needs will be met in our intimate relationship.

Ideally, love transcends one’s own needs to include caring and concern that go beyond self-interest.

However, achieving the goal of combining romantic love with need fulfillment rarely comes naturally and probably occurs less frequently than we assume.

For example, Mr. K. has met a woman he “loves.” But he “needs” someone to help in his business. His partner prefers to pursue her own career. Mr. K. must decide if his “love” transcends his “need.”

In a long-term relationship in which one partner becomes chronically ill, the other person tends for the loved one in spite of having few of his own needs met. In the absence of love, a partner is more likely to abandon his mate.

In the 1992 best selling novel The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller, a married but lonely Italian immigrant, Francesca, living in 1960’s Iowa meets a photographer who is filming the bridges in the area. In their four-day affair, Francesca is awakened to the difference between duty (to husband and family) and romantic love, and must choose between them.

The fact that the book has been made into a movie (1995) and more recently a musical, attests to the universality of the conflict--romantic love vs. responsibility.

Sometimes the relationship must be tested to permit a partner to grow. Mr. L’s wife wanted to return work. Until she threatened Mr. L. with divorce, he didn’t agree. He realized his love for his wife surmounted his need for her presence at home. In the long run, he benefitted from the change; while preparing dinners for the family, he discovered his love for cooking.

Conclusion: Love (beyond need) takes into account the object of one’s love. It is a luxury that may involve inconvenience but grants each partner freedom to develop their individual talents.

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

Why We Can't (Always) Trust Ourselves

Trusting ourselves and our feelings is a complicated matter that deserves lifelong attention.

Like road signs, feelings guide us but are also capable of leading us down blind alleys. For example, we do well to sort out the internal voice of the judge from the internal voice of the critic.

The voice of the judge condemns, punishes, berates delivering negative messages such as: 

You’re a bad person.

You’re not worthy.

You’re a loser.

You can’t get it right.

There’s no hope.

The internal voice of the judge depletes our energy, diminishes our self-esteem, contributes to hopelessness, and distracts us from taking positive steps.

Since he has retired, Mr. D. says he doesn’t see the point in getting out of bed and taking care of his apartment. The internal judge tells him his life is pointless.

Indulging in his feelings of hopelessness, worsens his predicament.

On the other hand, the internal voice of the critic assesses with a realistic eye, to guide us to improve and make progress.

Here are messages of the voice of the internal critic:

There is a solution.

There is hope.

You can do it.

You can learn from mistakes.

You can try a different way/alter your plan.

You can find the windows of opportunity.

The voice of the critic helped Ms. W. face her fear that she could become a bag lady, and motivated her to earn an advanced degree to secure a better job.

 Writing blocks stem from giving power to the internal voice of the judge. The “unblocked” writer has learned to distinguish the voice of the condemning judge from the encouraging critic.

As writer Graham Greene wrote in The Ministry of Fear, “It is impossible to go through life without trust: That is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself”.

Conclusion; In brief, distrust the internal voice of the judge. Trust the internal voice of the critic, and learn to distinguish one from the other.

Dear Reader, I look forward to hearing from you. Jsimon145@gmail.com

Climbing the Steps (of Acceptance) in 2015

My goals for the new year can be summarized in one word: acceptance. These are some areas where I’d like to put it into practice.

1. To accept that (like everyone else) I have “crazy” thoughts at times that require sorting out.

I define them as “crazy” because they show a disconnection from logic, a deviation from rational and practical thinking. Instead of following a natural sequence as night follows day, the mind takes a leap as if the stairway from the first to the third floor of the edifice is not yet complete.

Some of these leaps (of thought) lead to a dead end or even disaster, while others may open a door to discovery and invention.

The lawn mower story is a classic example of a less than felicitous outcome of a mental leap. In this vignette, a man wants to borrow his neighbor’s lawn mower, but by the time he arrives at the neighbor’s door, he has convinced himself that the neighbor will not lend it to him. As a result of his internal dialogue, instead of asking, the man punches his neighbor in the nose.

The point is that we all “make up” stories in our own minds. The goal is to become aware of and take responsibility for these fabrications.

A story about Howard Hughes is a real-life example of a leap of imagination. Hughes designed and built a new aircraft, risking his life to test it. Although the plane crashed and almost killed him, he continued to perfect his invention; that is, he completed the missing steps and succeeded in inventing retractable landing gear and setting world air-speed records in the mid- to late 1930s. (He is also remembered for one big flop—the H-4 Hercules.)

2. I accept that aging is a natural process to acknowledge and also, paradoxically, to resist. We do well to struggle against the inevitable loss by initiating new projects to keep our bodies, minds and souls in motion; eating a healthy diet; and exercising our (at times) reluctant limbs.

3. The mind naturally has the capacity to think in antithetical ways—to be negative and positive, constructive and destructive. I accept that I will try to do my best to capitalize on the constructive and creative aspects, as well as to confront the negative, derogatory and destructive. (Dialogue is constructive; physical violence is destructive.)

4. Time hasn’t granted me the quality of patience, but I’ve gained the awareness that impatience comprises a “growing edge,” an area that requires attention with an eye toward improvement. I attempt to select the lines on which I must wait and attempt to be patient. For instance, I may have to wait for the bus, but I don’t have to wait on a long line to buy a pastry at the bakery.

5. I accept my short- and long-term goal: to help make the world a better place both in the moment (like helping a disabled person across the street or up the stairs) and in the long run (by taking responsibility for the impact of my words and actions on other people (in contrast to the “lawn mower man”).

I offer these thoughts with love, hope and prayers for peace for the new year and welcome my readers’ thoughts, and/or New Year’s resolutions.

jsimon145@gmail.com.

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