There have been a surfeit of books in recent years which describe the idea of "Laws of Attraction". This refers to the idea in psychology going back to William James, who described how people can attract things in their life by cultivating aspirations to have them. Conversely, fear drives things away--including the fear of losing something, ironically. The explanation for this phenomenon relates to the power of beliefs. For example, if a person believes that they are capable of attracting the best job, due to their special qualities and strong self-esteem, then their behaviors will exhibit positive characteristics that naturally attract them to that job. For instance, if you believe that you have a strong ability to land a job, chances are, you will practice some preparations that fall in with that belief. In the very least, you will have a determination to "prove" this belief to be true, by doing all the things that are congruent with that belief. On the other hand, if you are unable to see yourself as capable of doing anything worthwhile, you will probably exude little effort, or might make very anxious efforts which lead to mistakes or rushing. In other words, beliefs shape future actions by giving the person a mental picture that guides their future.
I agree with much of what this philosophy entails, because it pragmatically makes sense that beliefs relate reciprocally to actions. However, I don't ascribe to the idea of attraction as a "law", as one would think of a natural force as a law. The reason is that there are many causes and conditions that come together to shape particular outcomes. To use the simple example of taking a test: one surely will have greater chances of doing well on a test if they spend more time and effort preparing, as well as believe that they are capable of doing well. This belief is an element in strong self-esteem and love. But, on the other hand, if we knew ahead of time what questions will be on the test and simply memorized the answers, we would be neither learning nor mimicking real-life situations. There are many contingencies that determine success or failure in a goal, and without those contingencies, there would hardly be any true learning. So, to say that there is a natural law that states we can have what we want if we believe in ourselves, is a bit oversimplified. It also distorts James' original pragmatism by suggesting that there is a "Universe" out there that contains inexorable laws of cause and effect. In fact, so many conditions shape results that it is impossible to tell the outcomes to an exact degree.
Friday, January 17, 2020
Saturday, January 11, 2020
Feeling in Organizations
Working in organizations and groups can be quite the learning experience. One of the key things I am learning in my volunteer and working life is not to take criticism (real or imagined) personally, but rather to see it in the context of the organization's goals. To function in a workplace or an organization is literally to perform, socially and emotionally. I believe that emotions function forever in the context of organizational goals or wider social circles. While the latter shape what kinds of feelings are allowable in what contexts, the former are always sites of motivation.
To be in part of an organized society (whether a community, a family or workplace) is to feel within it and to be influenced in turn by the rules of that society. For example--well, let's put it this way: if I am not having any feeling for working life, I will hardly have the motivation to go to work. Attendant with being in an organization are feelings of indebtedness, belonging and obligation. If, on the other hand, in a hypothetical universe, everyone were allowed to live in comfortable caves (isolated from one another) and were magically fed through sun energy, they probably would have feelings that are simply not governed by organized life. In that case, many people might even resort to following flights of fancy, since there is nothing collectively keeping them grounded in work or relationships.
To take things too personally, I think, is to take there to be a self that exists outside the function of social organizations. Yes, something "feels" that is independent of society, but at the same time, that something is not a separate individual. It is always in flux and shifting. If I am dwelling on the feeling of "I don't belong here" or "I am making so many mistakes", I lose sight of the fact that belonging and making mistakes are both social constructs which only exist in the context of social and organizational goals. They don't in any way reflect an enduring self. This is why it's probably not productive to believe that failure to adapt to an organization is a reflection of a "self".
To be in part of an organized society (whether a community, a family or workplace) is to feel within it and to be influenced in turn by the rules of that society. For example--well, let's put it this way: if I am not having any feeling for working life, I will hardly have the motivation to go to work. Attendant with being in an organization are feelings of indebtedness, belonging and obligation. If, on the other hand, in a hypothetical universe, everyone were allowed to live in comfortable caves (isolated from one another) and were magically fed through sun energy, they probably would have feelings that are simply not governed by organized life. In that case, many people might even resort to following flights of fancy, since there is nothing collectively keeping them grounded in work or relationships.
To take things too personally, I think, is to take there to be a self that exists outside the function of social organizations. Yes, something "feels" that is independent of society, but at the same time, that something is not a separate individual. It is always in flux and shifting. If I am dwelling on the feeling of "I don't belong here" or "I am making so many mistakes", I lose sight of the fact that belonging and making mistakes are both social constructs which only exist in the context of social and organizational goals. They don't in any way reflect an enduring self. This is why it's probably not productive to believe that failure to adapt to an organization is a reflection of a "self".
Wednesday, January 8, 2020
Life Stories
These days, I become more aware of how everything I think about is some kind of story. Jerome Bruner and other educational theorists have touched upon the idea that our whole cognitive approach to thinking and being relates to stories: positioning ourselves, interpreting and understanding each others' behavior, and populating our narratives. But, knowing that our storylines can change based on attitude and outlook, perhaps these stories don't feel so concrete or tangible anymore.
For example, basing a person's character on one or two appearances might capture the essence of the person in that moment, but it overlooks how the person got to be where they are. People are arriving somewhere based on conditions, and they accumulate new understandings from what they learn in that situation. New interactions create new possibilities. There is a self there, but it's one that change from moment to moment and attains new perspectives. So while the cognitive theorists are correct in thinking of stories as ways of making sense of the world and learning, perhaps this making sense is only a temporary way of organizing experience, and it doesn't relate to a concrete, unchanging self or ego.
Stories exist as variations on themes, and these themes are fascinating, but can life be summed up in a single theme? This is where biography itself is slippery and elusive. I saw a video this evening by Master Sheng Yen which talks about the self forming through a disciplined series of choices where we decide to be masters of ourselves (through vows and determination) rather than being carried away by circumstances or the environment. But while I agree that this is how people achieve goals and get education, I wonder, is this really "the self", or is it really a temporary idea that helps people temporarily overcome the whims of their environment?
For example, basing a person's character on one or two appearances might capture the essence of the person in that moment, but it overlooks how the person got to be where they are. People are arriving somewhere based on conditions, and they accumulate new understandings from what they learn in that situation. New interactions create new possibilities. There is a self there, but it's one that change from moment to moment and attains new perspectives. So while the cognitive theorists are correct in thinking of stories as ways of making sense of the world and learning, perhaps this making sense is only a temporary way of organizing experience, and it doesn't relate to a concrete, unchanging self or ego.
Stories exist as variations on themes, and these themes are fascinating, but can life be summed up in a single theme? This is where biography itself is slippery and elusive. I saw a video this evening by Master Sheng Yen which talks about the self forming through a disciplined series of choices where we decide to be masters of ourselves (through vows and determination) rather than being carried away by circumstances or the environment. But while I agree that this is how people achieve goals and get education, I wonder, is this really "the self", or is it really a temporary idea that helps people temporarily overcome the whims of their environment?
Sunday, January 5, 2020
The Pressure to Solve
In working life, it's often necessary to solve problems relatively quickly. But in the rest of one's life, things take time to develop. Writing a proposal for school is one example, and here I am reminded of a recent adage attributed to Thomas Edison which states: each failure is a success in the sense of a lesson learned. All these false starts, groping in the dark, and futile attempts to arrive at something grounded and meaningful can often be ways of successfully knowing what doesn't work. Knowing what doesn't work, in other words, is in itself a form of success.
Some things do not require solving right away. If stuck in the well of uncertainty, there is often a tendency in me to push myself, thinking that the push will get me up the deep well more quickly. More often than not, that attempt to add pressure often leads to even more delays, because one starts to blame themselves when they can't push themselves hard enough. In those moments, being in the mess of things (and learning to stay in it without succumbing to despair) is an interesting experience in itself.
I am saying: if one is stuck on not being able to successfully solve a problem, perhaps the actual source of suffering is not the lack of a solution. To the contrary, it's helpful to ask, does this problem need an immediate solution? If so, who says so? What's the hidden expectation underlying the need for a fast solution? Can the solution (for the time being) be no solution at all?
I think all of this reflects deep fears of being left behind in a well of darkness. But this is a fear that needs to be faced head on, and nor does it need to be avoided. Because it reflects fears of rejection and abandonment that will always keep coming up until one realizes that there is nothing terrible or devastating about either. Life goes on, in its own way.
Some things do not require solving right away. If stuck in the well of uncertainty, there is often a tendency in me to push myself, thinking that the push will get me up the deep well more quickly. More often than not, that attempt to add pressure often leads to even more delays, because one starts to blame themselves when they can't push themselves hard enough. In those moments, being in the mess of things (and learning to stay in it without succumbing to despair) is an interesting experience in itself.
I am saying: if one is stuck on not being able to successfully solve a problem, perhaps the actual source of suffering is not the lack of a solution. To the contrary, it's helpful to ask, does this problem need an immediate solution? If so, who says so? What's the hidden expectation underlying the need for a fast solution? Can the solution (for the time being) be no solution at all?
I think all of this reflects deep fears of being left behind in a well of darkness. But this is a fear that needs to be faced head on, and nor does it need to be avoided. Because it reflects fears of rejection and abandonment that will always keep coming up until one realizes that there is nothing terrible or devastating about either. Life goes on, in its own way.
Friday, January 3, 2020
Metaphorically Speaking
I am thinking a lot about the relationship between metaphor, visualization and thinking. I am convinced that the mind's language is metaphor. Have you ever found yourself in situations where you could not express what you are feeling/thinking, only to have an image in mind that represents the thought or feeling metaphorically (such as "being in a tunnel with only a tiny light")? Sometimes we even catch glimpse of our mood by way of recollecting a song that conveys the exact feeling we had in mind. I think it's because the mind already has at its disposal a very rich vocabulary that is often overlooked by linear, logic-based thinking.
Metaphors could be ways to enrich an experience that is otherwise dry or intellectual. I am thinking about processes such as journaling in cognitive therapy, which often relies on making reasonable accounts of what happened in a person's life history to dispute "irrational" or negative thoughts. I often do wonder, does our emotional side really respond well to reasoning, or does it not require an imaginative reframing? Rather than trying to make a statement of something that is logical or reasonable, a reframing is often needed to infuse a situation with a new image that reorients a concept to be like something else. Perhaps an exercise might be in order. Take an abstract concept related to a difficulty and try to reframe it using a concrete image:
a) Problems are like trees because...
b) Confusion is like a cloud in the sky in that...
c) Anger is fire in the soul because...
d) Tears are the eyes' nectar from heaven.
By listing all the ways that the first is similar to the other, do new or unexpected insights emerge?
Metaphors could be ways to enrich an experience that is otherwise dry or intellectual. I am thinking about processes such as journaling in cognitive therapy, which often relies on making reasonable accounts of what happened in a person's life history to dispute "irrational" or negative thoughts. I often do wonder, does our emotional side really respond well to reasoning, or does it not require an imaginative reframing? Rather than trying to make a statement of something that is logical or reasonable, a reframing is often needed to infuse a situation with a new image that reorients a concept to be like something else. Perhaps an exercise might be in order. Take an abstract concept related to a difficulty and try to reframe it using a concrete image:
a) Problems are like trees because...
b) Confusion is like a cloud in the sky in that...
c) Anger is fire in the soul because...
d) Tears are the eyes' nectar from heaven.
By listing all the ways that the first is similar to the other, do new or unexpected insights emerge?
Thursday, January 2, 2020
Resting in Anxiety
The title should really be called "resting". In anticipation of my first day back to work after a long week of rest, I thought I would retire early last night, later to discover that this had a very good affect on my concentration and focus at work. Sleep is sometimes the key to mindfulness, because sleep helps conserve energy and maintain focus throughout the day.
When I talk about resting in anxiety, I am proposing that anxiety is a part of life. It's part of life because people are always existing in some kind of tension or imbalance. If I didn't feel that sleeping in late was somewhat imbalanced, I might not even bother to get out of bed. But of course, I do get out of bed, because there is always a sense of something that needs balancing. The other value of anxiety is that it reminds people that there are always several factors to keep an eye on when performing something effectively. Anxiety is that sense of being awakened to many possibilities and having that imperative to try the delicate balancing act between competing claims (such as quality vs. quantity, depth vs. breath, diversity vs. singularity etc.). There is no harm in this idea or attitude, as long as a person understands that role of anxiety without letting it get out of control.
I think that the times when I rest in anxiety are the times I accept it for what it is, and find that there is no need to try to stifle it or escape to do something else. This is not a popular idea, because people are often told the opposite, which is that anxiety is something pathological or to be soothed. There are certainly times when anxiety becomes so frantic that one cannot think clearly, but other kinds of anxiety can simply be observed. So I think one of the first steps in terms of doing this is to acknowledge that our lives are a tension of opposites, and we are always on a balancing act.
When I talk about resting in anxiety, I am proposing that anxiety is a part of life. It's part of life because people are always existing in some kind of tension or imbalance. If I didn't feel that sleeping in late was somewhat imbalanced, I might not even bother to get out of bed. But of course, I do get out of bed, because there is always a sense of something that needs balancing. The other value of anxiety is that it reminds people that there are always several factors to keep an eye on when performing something effectively. Anxiety is that sense of being awakened to many possibilities and having that imperative to try the delicate balancing act between competing claims (such as quality vs. quantity, depth vs. breath, diversity vs. singularity etc.). There is no harm in this idea or attitude, as long as a person understands that role of anxiety without letting it get out of control.
I think that the times when I rest in anxiety are the times I accept it for what it is, and find that there is no need to try to stifle it or escape to do something else. This is not a popular idea, because people are often told the opposite, which is that anxiety is something pathological or to be soothed. There are certainly times when anxiety becomes so frantic that one cannot think clearly, but other kinds of anxiety can simply be observed. So I think one of the first steps in terms of doing this is to acknowledge that our lives are a tension of opposites, and we are always on a balancing act.
Wednesday, January 1, 2020
Embracing Discomfort AND Comfort
Sometimes when I find myself getting too comfortable with a routine or pace of life, I fall into the trap of thinking that things have to be this way, and not any other way, in order to survive. I reason that the comfort I am enjoying is the best comfort that anyone can have, and guard vigilantly against anything that might appear to attack or disregard that sense of comfort. This is where the self attaches to comfort and wants to feel secure all the time.
Life doesn't allow for this state of things to last for very long. Instability in one's job or even in family relationships can lead to a sense that the self that I cherish (at the root of all this comfort and stability) is not that stable at all. While some writers such as Pema Chodron (2003) advocate embracing uncertainty in the face of discomfort, I also suggest that this practice of being with discomfort needn't entail harsh repudiation of comfort or consolation altogether, but can transform into a sense of flexible compassion. This flexible sense of compassion is the permission to feel that things are going to be okay no matter what the situation, and the feeling of uncertainty needn't be a reason to feel depressed.
"Embracing discomfort" is even a bit of a misnomer, because the term "discomfort" only exists relative to a sense of comfort. To be able to embrace one is also to embrace the other as well. To embrace discomfort is also to embrace the longing for psychic comfort, since without the latter, te former would not exist. I think this is where people might think that they need to be masochistic or denying of comfort in order to practice a spiritual path. But this needn't be so, because both comfort and discomfort are only states of feeling and thinking; it's not necessary to pick one over the other, since they are simply two sides to the same coin.
I think that the pain of discomfort is always containing a certain softness or a sense of vulnerability that will always be a part of being human. Human beings are so complex, and there is no way to simplify the emotional life by preferring only one state of mind (such as "calm" or even "no emotion"). So I think the tricky part of this is to embrace both the tender longing for comfort (the tender or nurturing side) and the necessity of discomfort and instability, as coming from the same mind and experience. It's almost like a kind of self-empathy! Now, is that even possible? I believe it's possible because a lot of times, one is too busy trying to get out of their skin, and coming back into their skin requires a more compassionate approach to those longings to belong and feel the comfort of others when one is feeling doubt or distress.
Chodron, P. (2003). Comfortable with Uncertainty: 108 Teachings on Cultivating Fearlessness and Compassion. Boston: Shambhala
Life doesn't allow for this state of things to last for very long. Instability in one's job or even in family relationships can lead to a sense that the self that I cherish (at the root of all this comfort and stability) is not that stable at all. While some writers such as Pema Chodron (2003) advocate embracing uncertainty in the face of discomfort, I also suggest that this practice of being with discomfort needn't entail harsh repudiation of comfort or consolation altogether, but can transform into a sense of flexible compassion. This flexible sense of compassion is the permission to feel that things are going to be okay no matter what the situation, and the feeling of uncertainty needn't be a reason to feel depressed.
"Embracing discomfort" is even a bit of a misnomer, because the term "discomfort" only exists relative to a sense of comfort. To be able to embrace one is also to embrace the other as well. To embrace discomfort is also to embrace the longing for psychic comfort, since without the latter, te former would not exist. I think this is where people might think that they need to be masochistic or denying of comfort in order to practice a spiritual path. But this needn't be so, because both comfort and discomfort are only states of feeling and thinking; it's not necessary to pick one over the other, since they are simply two sides to the same coin.
I think that the pain of discomfort is always containing a certain softness or a sense of vulnerability that will always be a part of being human. Human beings are so complex, and there is no way to simplify the emotional life by preferring only one state of mind (such as "calm" or even "no emotion"). So I think the tricky part of this is to embrace both the tender longing for comfort (the tender or nurturing side) and the necessity of discomfort and instability, as coming from the same mind and experience. It's almost like a kind of self-empathy! Now, is that even possible? I believe it's possible because a lot of times, one is too busy trying to get out of their skin, and coming back into their skin requires a more compassionate approach to those longings to belong and feel the comfort of others when one is feeling doubt or distress.
Chodron, P. (2003). Comfortable with Uncertainty: 108 Teachings on Cultivating Fearlessness and Compassion. Boston: Shambhala
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