No one gets to tell you what “success” is and isn’t for you.

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No one gets to tell you what “success” is and isn’t for you.

I just watched a reasonably well known teacher in the personal growth field effortfully attempt to shame his audience if they value rest, recreation, and friendship. In this guy’s world, “fun” is a dirty word— he feels that every waking moment, including the weekends, should be devoted to “making an impact” (i.e, working). He excoriates his audience members who “say” they want success in business, but then “take the weekends off” and “hit the snooze button.”

(I’m not exaggerating or taking him out of context, by the way. This guy says things like this all the time— usually in thinly veiled attempts to make his audience feel bad for not being dedicated to their goals…a problem that, obviously, his coaching products and services can fix for them.)

We hear variants of this message a lot in our culture. We’re told that we don’t have to slavishly grind away at a job we hate. We can be entrepreneurs! We can be world-changers!! We can have it all if we “grow a spine” and take the risks necessary to succeed!!!

(Again, I’m not exaggerating— the words “grow a spine” were explicitly uttered in a recent post about how everyone should quit their jobs and chase their dreams.)

I’m all for dreaming. I’m all for audacious goal-setting. Grand, sweeping visions of life can inspire us; can propel us forward; can make our worlds a more colorful and interesting place to live as we march determinedly toward our goals.

The thing is— we also live in a real world.

A world in which we have commitments.

A world in which bills need to be paid.

A world where in which not everybody has the resources on hand to take a leap into the unknown.

Here’s the secret that many personal growth teachers, especially with products and services to sell, don’t want you to focus on: it doesn’t have to be either/or.

We can create our dream life, or at least a life closely approximating our dream life, even as we live our real lives and fulfill our day-to-day responsibilities.

For that matter: not everybody’s “dream life” means giving up those day to day responsibilities.

Some people kind of like those day to day responsibilities.

For that matter, some people even like having a job.

There’s no shame in liking what you do, day to day, even if you’re not an entrepreneur, CEO, world leader, or billionaire.

There’s no shame in liking weekends off. There’s no shame in liking to take care of your family members. There’s no shame in taking pleasure and pride in doing your job, whatever it is, to the best of your ability, and in doing so contributing to the quality of life of others.

Why are there so many people out there who are so keen to tell us what “success”is and isn’t?

Why are there so many people out there who are intent on evoking feelings of inadequacy and shame if we choose a life that doesn’t fit their definition of “successful?”

Sometimes people go this route as a result of a psychological defense called “projective identification.” What this means is that they have some sort of anxiety or fear going on in their own lives, but they don’t feel equipped to emotionally handle it themselves; so instead of handling it, they “project” this feeling onto others, and then behave toward those others in such a way that their “projection” seems justified. In this case, someone might have a staggering amount of insecurity about their own life path, but they can’t quite handle that; so they “project” those feelings onto others (“THEY must be unhappy with their life path!”), They then attempt to affirm their projection by inducing guilt and shame in others regarding their life choices (“Don’t you want MORE out of your life than slaving away at a JOB?!? And if not, WHY NOT?!?”).

Sometimes people attempt to induce shame in others vis a vis their life choices and priorities because the have something to sell. In this case, some personal growth teachers cannot sell you their services unless you feel bad enough about your current circumstances to want to make a change. It’s not to their advantage if people feel okay, let alone good or great, about their life choices— so they attempt to make you feel lousy about them.

And then, of course, sometimes people just like to put other people down. It’s a bummer— but those people are out there.

The important thing for you to realize is: YOU get to decide what makes for a good life.

YOU get to decide how your time is best spent.

YOU get to decide what “success” means for you.

YOU get to decide whether living a loud, visible, public life, or a quiet, inconspicuous life is best for you.

YOU get to decide what your needs and wants are vis a vis having and keeping a job.

And the good news is: you can absolutely trust YOURSELF to make decisions about what YOU want, what YOU need, and what’s worth spending YOUR time and resources on.

Don’t let anybody tell ya different.

 

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For information about how you can minimize your chances of being harmed and exploited in seeking personal growth, check out the nonprofit organization SEEK Safely

The Art of Intelligent Risk-Taking.

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We’re often told to focus on the reward, rather than the risk.

We’re told that if we focus exclusively on the risk involved in projects, we’ll be disinclined to take the risks needed to really reach our potential. We’re told that risk is necessary in order to evolve, and that to decline to take risks is to stay in our comfort zone and limit ourselves indefinitely.

There’s an element of truth to this, to be sure. If nothing else, it’s an impractical life strategy to only bet on “sure things.” If we only bet on sure things, we’re choosing stability (or maybe even the illusion of stability) over the potential for growth.

In order to grow, there is an extent to which we often need to embrace unfamiliarity, discomfort, and, yes: risk.

That said: not all risks are created equal.

Just because something is scary or outside of your comfort zone doesn’t mean it’s a risk worth taking.

There are plenty of people who have taken risks, but been denied the reward they assumed was coming to them for stepping out of their comfort zones.

One of the subjects I write about most often in this blog is the development and maintenance of high, healthy self-esteem. My approach to self-esteem isn’t suddenly, blindingly transformational; rather, it’s grounded in the premise that your brain notices your day-to-day choices, and adjusts its level of self-respect, its appraisal of your worthiness and efficacy, accordingly. Most notably, your brain notices your choices about whether to think or not think; whether you treat yourself with respect and kindness; whether you behave with integrity; and whether you direct your life purposefully.

These consistent decisions— or, maybe more accurately, patterns in decision-making—  form the basis of self-esteem.

One big choice that flows from these broad categories of choices is what risks you decide to take.

Are you risking intelligently?

What makes for an intelligent risk?

It matters whether our risks are intelligent. It goes to the question of whether we’re thinking, or going on autopilot. It goes to whether we’re treating ourselves well. It even goes to the question of whether we’re behaving with integrity— that is, whether we’re behaving in a way that is consistent with our appraisals and values.

It matters, big time, to our self-esteem, in other words.

There is no shortage of risks that are available to take in this world. We take risks every time we step outside our front door. But whether a risk is intelligent or not depends on three things:  whether we understand a reasonable amount about the nature of the risk; the connection between the risk and the reward (i.e., our goals, our very reason for taking that risk); and our ability to be flexible in responding to a risk that turns out to be different than we imagined.

For example: crossing the street is a risk. There are cars and inattentive drivers out there. (Trust me, I live in Chicago— I know this fact better than most.)

Is crossing the street on my way to the office a risk worth taking?

Well, let’s see: what do I understand about the risk?

I understand that there are cars out there. I understand there are inattentive drivers out there. I also understand there are crosswalks and traffic lights out there that many, if not most, of the drivers on the road tend to obey. I understand that there are other pedestrians out there whose behavior I can use to help gauge the advisability of taking a risk (i.e., if I suddenly see people screaming and jumping back from the curb, there might be a less-safe-than-normal driver headed that way).

Okay. Now, how does this risk connect to my eventual goal, i.e., making it in to work?

In this case it’s very direct: I need to physically cross the street in order to get there. The connection couldn’t be much clearer.

All right. Now: if the risk goes wrong, what kind of flexibility do I have in responding to the situation?

Well…if I’m crossing the street, and suddenly one or more cars come barreling toward me, disobeying speed limits and disregarding stop signs, I can always jump or dive out the way. Do I feel able to actually respond like this if this risk goes wrong? Yes, I do.

All right, then: risk worth taking.

Remember the three part formula for determining whether a risk is worth taking:

1) What do I know or understand about this risk?

2) How does this risk connect to the goal I’m pursuing?

3) How flexible am I willing and able to be to respond if this risk turns out to be not what I was expecting or prepared for?

It’s true that there are no guarantees in life, and risks are absolutely necessary in order to grow. But our “style” of risk-taking can have significant consequences for our self-esteem— not to mention practical consequences for the lives we’re trying to create.

Risk.

But use your magnificent mind to risk intelligently.

 

To learn more about intelligent risk-taking in your personal development journey, check out the nonprofit organization SEEK Safely, which seeks to educate the consumers of self-help on how to make their journeys safe and effective. 

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The “You” of tomorrow; the “You” of the past; and the “You” of right now.

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The you of tomorrow needs things from you.

The you of tomorrow needs you to take care of yourself today, because what you do today is going to fuel the you of tomorrow.

The things you read today are going to inform the perspectives and expand the toolbox of the you of tomorrow.

The things you eat today are going to physically fuel the you of tomorrow.

The kind of exercise you get today is going to determine whether the you of tomorrow is strong and flexible or not.

The care you take of yourself AFTER you exercise is going to determine whether the you of tomorrow is sore and stiff or limber and loose.

What you focus on today is going to determine whether the you of tomorrow is going to start out from a position of strength, calm, and confidence, or if the you of tomorrow is going to start out from a position of anxiety, trepidation, and doubt.

The choices you make— what you say “yes” to, what you say “no” to— today are going to determine what the you of tomorrow is going to have to work with…or work against.

The you of tomorrow is counting on you to make some good choices.

The you of the past needs things from you, too.

The you of the past needs you to remember that you were younger then than you are now. Less experienced. Less knowledgable. Less tired. Less wounded.

The you of the past needs you to remember that you are no longer the you of the past. That no matter how hard you try, you can’t go back and be the you of the past ever again.

You can’t go back and un-make decisions or mistakes you once made.

You can’t go back and delete things you said and other people heard.

The you of the past needs you to know that they understand you only did the best you could with the tools you had at the moment.

The you of the past needs you to forgive yourself for those old mistakes.

The you of the past needs you to know that every minute you spend trying to un-make old mistakes— mistakes that can never be un-made— is a minute you rob from the you of tomorrow.

The you of the past needs you to remember where you were coming from at times in the past when you felt certain ways and behaved in certain ways.

The you of the past needs assurance from you that they weren’t dumb or bad for not having been perfect— they were just young.

What the you of the past might need more than anything else, however, is assurance that you’ll pay attention to the lessons of the past. That you won’t let sadness or fear convince you to shove the past in a closet or under a bed. That, no matter how painful it might be, you’ll take the past for what it was— a series of events that, while they were very meaningful at the time, happened once upon a time.

The you of the past needs you to know the difference between the you of the past and the you of now.

What both the you of the past and the you of tomorrow need from you is your patience.

The you of the past and the you of tomorrow need your respect.

The you of the past and the you of tomorrow need your attention.

The you of the past and the you of tomorrow need your best effort.

What does the you of right now need?

That, only you can answer, right now, in this moment.

Maybe the you of now needs rest.

Maybe the you of now needs to take a few long, deep breaths— and to not be shamed or guilted for taking those long, deep breaths.

The you of now needs to know that there are people who care about them. Maybe not all the people you WANT to care about you, and maybe not in the WAY you wish they cared— but there ARE people out there to whom you matter. Even if you don’t know it.

The you of now needs to know that this moment, right here, right now, reading these words— this moment can be a fresh start.

The you of now needs to know that you can never have a better past, but you’ve arrived right here, right now, with the tools you have, with the talent you have, with the challenges you have, with the baggage you have.

THIS IS IT. THIS IS YOUR LIFE. THIS IS YOUR GREATEST CHALLENGE.

The you of now needs to know that as long as you can read and internalize these words, you have gas left in the tank.

The you of now needs to know there’s hope.

The you of now needs to know it’s not over yet.

The you of now needs to know, with absolute certainty: the best is yet to come.

 

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To Forgive, or Not To Forgive?

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Ever notice how quickly, and emphatically, other people are to chime in about how we “should” relate to people who have hurt us?

“You should forgive them.” “You should cut them out.” “You should understand their side of the story.” “You should report them to the police.”

When people offer us advice, of course, they usually have our best interests in mind, or at least they think they do. The people who tell us how to handle it when we’ve been hurt range from family members, to friends, to professional colleagues, to strangers on the Internet.

Make no mistake: I’m personally extremely grateful that so many of us have people in our lives who care about our well-being. The fact that people care about us enough to offer us recommendations on how to manage our lives in such a way that minimizes the chances of future pain? That’s extraordinary. Many of these peoples’ hearts are in the right places.

But the fact remains, however: none of those people is you.

None of those people have to live with the decisions you make every day in quite the same way you have to live with them. (They may have to live with some of the attendant consequences, but only you have to wake up with and go to sleep with yourself every morning and night.)

For that matter, many of the people who are offering us advice on how to respond when someone has hurt us, are responding to their own history, their own truths, and their own fears.

I, personally, don’t know how you should relate to the specific people in your unique life who have hurt you. Because I’m not you.

I pretty much know one thing when it comes to this: whatever you choose to do, your health and protection have to be your top priority.

The only decision that is “wrong” when it comes to relating to people who have hurt you, is a decision that invites and allows that hurt to continue.

Beyond that, the issue of what “should” you do in relationships that have a pattern of having been hurtful in the past is complicated. Don’t let anyone try to tell you differently, either— while we wish things were easily sorted into black and white categories for easy decision-making, as we’ve discussed many times on this blog, reality tends to be a little more complex than that.

Should you “forgive” someone who has hurt you?

That’s not a question that has a blanket answer. Not many people can even agree on what “forgiveness” entails. Many people associate religious overtones and teachings with the concept of “forgiveness.” Many people reject the concept altogether as giving a “free pass” to people who have behave unacceptably.

The thing is: if you’re committed to building healthy self-esteem, it’s up to you to thoughtfully, deliberately determine what YOUR best choice is when it comes to forgiveness.

Your self-esteem absolutely notices when you forfeit the obligation to think, and substitute other peoples’ views and values in place of your own.

Your self-esteem also notices when you stay in the fight, and continue to take on the burden of thinking and making decisions, even when the subject matter is hard, uncomfortable, or awkward.

Your self-esteem definitely notices when you’re making decisions that either allow you to continue to get hurt, as part of a predictable pattern; or when you make decisions that protect you.

It’s hard to “esteem” yourself when you’re not protecting yourself.

It’s hard to “esteem” yourself when you turn a blind eye to the reality of relationships.

Many people feel very strongly about “forgiveness.” So much so that they’ll go out of their way to convince you that their view is not only correct, but essential to you living a good life.

Their view of “forgiveness” may or may not be consistent with your own view; and “forgiving” someone may or may not be the thing to do in any given situation. But the point is, whatever you end up doing, it’s incredibly important to your emotional well-being that the decision be one that YOU made— not one you were pressured into, even with the best intentions.

Some questions I find useful include: what does “forgiveness” mean to me, specifically?

What would it be like if I chose to “forgive” this person?

Can I, personally, move on without “forgiving” this person?

Does “forgiving” this person feel right?

Does “forgiving” this person feel safe?

Does “forgiving” this person create any kind of “loophole” that might allow them to hurt me again?

Those aren’t easy questions. For anyone, really.

But it’s by asking the tough questions that we build self-esteem in the real world.

 

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Protecting yourself is not a luxury.

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It may be true that, as the expression goes, “hurt people hurt people.” That often when someone behaves in a malicious manner, it’s because they, themselves, are suffering.

The psychological research is kind of mixed on this question, actually. There is support for the hypothesis that many people in pain “pay it forward” in the form of hurting others. Many perpetrators of violence and abuse, for example, report having experienced violence and abuse in their own lives. Likewise, many people who have harmed others report impoverished backgrounds and attachments.

There certainly is support for the “hurt people, hurt people” hypothesis.

However, it’s also the case that the vast majority of people who have experienced pain in their lives do not go on to hurt others.

In fact, many victims of abuse and violence report that the experienced shaped them to the extent that they’ve made it a fundamental part of their values system to AVOID causing pain to others.

This happens so frequently, in fact, that it is a frequently observed phenomenon that people who have had pain in their lives are often victimized repeatedly, possibly because they are averse to setting boundaries and fighting back (because they associate such behaviors with the “aggressive” tactics of their abusers).

That is to say: experiencing pain is NOT a reliable precursor to inflicting pain on others.

Adding to the confusion around this question is the fact that there is a subset of humans who inflict pain on others, not in response to any particular pain on their part, but for gratification. Various terms applied to these people are “psychopaths,” “sociopaths,” and “narcissists.”

The argument could be made that these individuals are, in fact, experiencing and acting out of their own pain. The problem in supporting this argument, however, is that people who hurt others for sport are notoriously difficult to study; and most of the time when they ARE studied, it’s in a forensic context.

That is to say, it’s virtually impossible to study these individuals unless they get arrested (and even then, it’s not particularly easy to study them— an observation I made firsthand doing psychology internships in the state forensic system).

All of this is interesting, but it all begs a very serious question: when we’re being hurt by someone’s behavior, what are our responsibilities?

Should we understand the person hurting us is likely coming from a place of pain themselves, and take it on ourselves to understand, empathize, or change them?

Should we cut ourselves off from them entirely, assuming they are unlikely to change?

If a central part of our values system is being kind, generous, and compassionate to other people, especially people in pain, how do we square our values system with the fact that the behavior of other people is sometimes hurtful, destructive…and consistent?

Unfortunately, there are no easy or straightforward answers to these questions. I wish there were. I’d be the first to give you the perfect way to deal with those in your life whose behavior is hurtful, whatever the reason behind it.

One thing I do know, however, is: no responsibility we have toward anyone else negates your primary responsibility to take care of yourself.

Sometimes taking care of yourself does mean limiting contact with a person— regardless of the consequences. (And believe me, when someone wants to keep you tangled in their web, they will do their best to inflict dire consequences when you attempt to free yourself.)

Sometimes taking care of yourself means recruiting support in dealing with a person, in the form of  friends, a therapist, or legal authorities. (And believe me, hurtful people will go to great lengths to keep you isolated if they suspect you getting support will interfere with their ability to do their thing.)

Sometimes taking care of yourself begins with getting brutally honest with the impact a person’s behavior is having on you— even if every fiber of you wants to stay in denial about it. (And believe me, many hurtful people use our own denial as a primary weapon of choice to keep us locked into their vicious games.)

Many times, we’re drawn toward the impulse to “help” the person who is hurting us, for a variety of reasons. They may be a family member, who we feel attached to and obligated toward. They may be someone who we know to be in great pain. They may be someone for whom this hurtful behavior is new or aberrant, someone who we think might “snap out of it” if only we could find the right responses to them.

Your mileage may vary when it comes to “helping” someone who is hurting you, but I can absolutely assure you: nobody is “helped” by allowing the hurtful behavior to continue.

Nobody is “helped” by failing to hold people accountable for hurtful behavior.

Nobody is “helped” by you staying isolated, just to “protect” the person who is hurting you.

It is sometimes observed that “helping” the person who is being hurtful, and protecting yourself, doesn’t need to be a black and white issue— that it is perhaps possible to do both. I think every situation is different in this regard, and I’m not near presumptuous enough to opine what the best course of action is for your specific situation and your individual values system.

All I know is, I’ve often seen the desire to “help” hurtful people be used as an excuse to stay in situations where the pain is guaranteed to continue.

Self-esteem cannot be built upon a sacrificial altar.

Secure your oxygen mask first. Get safe. Get support. Take the risks necessary to be safe and supported.

Yes, easier said than done.

But protecting yourself is not a luxury. It’s not optional.

It’s your first, and most important, responsibility.

 

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Limits are your best friend.

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We live in a world of limits.

We live in a world of opportunities, too, don’t get me wrong. But it’s virtually impossible to access those opportunities unless we commit to being brutally realistic with ourselves about our limitations.

It’s true that we’re often mistaken about our limits. We often have far more energy, far more resilience, far more creativity, and far more determination than we think we do. Our culture has a way of conditioning us into thinking we’re more limited than we are, usually as a means of selling us things we then think we need.

(And make no mistake: anyone who tries to convince you that “there are no limits” in this world is big time selling something.)

But the fact that we’re often mistaken about our limits, that we frequently underestimate and deprecate our true resources, doesn’t mean that limits don’t exist. The straightforward fact of the matter is that, at any one time, we have a finite amount of energy; a finite amount of focus; a finite amount of money; a finite amount of knowledge; and a finite amount of time.

For all practical purposes, we don’t have the universe at our disposal every time we feel like embarking upon a project.

We must pick and choose which opportunities will make the most of the resources we DO have available at any one time.

Instead of pretending like “there are no limits,” it’s far more useful to focus on coming to terms with the fact that we do have limits— and to learn how to intelligently allocate our resources so we don’t overextend ourselves.

Why is it so important to be real with ourselves and others about our limitations?

Because the most productive thing you can do with ten dollars is very different from the most productive thing you can do with a hundred dollars.

The most productive thing you can do with five minutes is very different from the most productive thing you can do with five hours.

The most productive thing you can do at the beginning of the day, when you’re well-rested and have a reserve of physical energy to draw upon, is very different from the most productive thing you can do at the end of the day, when you’re tired and your body is yearning for sleep.

Being realistic about limits is not “pessimistic” or “defeatist.” It’s not denying that the universe is abundant and that we can come much closer to our goals and dreams than we may have ever thought possible.

Being realistic about limits, in fact, is about being fundamentally optimistic, albeit from a reality-based perspective: it’s trusting that there will be more time, energy, and money available in the future, so I can use this limited chunk of time/energy/money available to me now in the most intelligent way possible.

A lot of people don’t like to think about limits. It bums them out. Acknowledging limits means we can’t do everything we want to do, when we want to do it. A subset of people deal with this fact by, essentially, throwing a temper tantrum, and demanding that reality conform to their preference that they be allowed to do what they want, when they want.

There is a subset of people who really will try to convince you that all limits are an “illusion.” That your “scarcity mindset” is fooling you into thinking there is only a certain level of abundance available to you. That if you’re anxious about overextending your resources, that’s proof that your limited worldview and past programming is holding you back.

Again, to be clear: it’s my view that we can do, have and be far more than we think we can. Some of the limitations imposed upon us by past programming are definitely illusory. But we don’t do ourselves, or anyone else, any favors by pretending that we can have everything we want at the moment we want it, despite our present level of resources.

Our resources are limited. We can deny this fact; we can rail against this fact; we can behave as if this fact is not true.

But believe me when I say: reality doesn’t particularly care about how we respond to the fact that limits exist. It will still continue to impose limits on us, whether or not we like it.

Fortunately, all of us have magnificent minds that allow us to make intelligent decisions with our resources— to the extent that we’re being realistic with ourselves about our present limitations.

If you ask your brain, “What is the best use of the limits I DO have right now?”, instead of fervently wishing you had no limits, your brain WILL provide you an answer.

If you ask your brain, “How can I augment my resources, so they stretch a little further, so I’m not as constrained by these limits as I have been in the past?”, your brain WILL provide you an answer. (That’s actually a great question to ask— it’s far better to think about how to expand your resources a little at a time so you’re less smothered by your limits, than simply pretending those limits don’t exist.)

I know I sound like a broken record on this point, but it’s a point that bears repeating again and again: self-esteem cannot be built upon a foundation of self-deception. Denial of reality is fundamentally incompatible with health self-esteem.

Self-esteem can flourish only in an environment in which the real world is seen, acknowledged, and dealt with to the best of our ability.

Don’t get freaked out by the fact that limits exist. They don’t exist to intimidate you. Rather, think of limits as a useful guide to how you can allot your resources intelligently.

Thank goodness limits exist.

Thank goodness we don’t have to pretend otherwise.

 

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Balance is a tool– use it intelligently.

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I recently heard someone in the personal growth industry opine that “balance was bogus.”

His argument was that if things are in perfect balance, there’s no dynamism. There’s no movement. There’s no flow. Whereas people think they want “balance,” but the truth is that if a system is in perfect balance, it’s a dead system. On top of all that, this person observed, of the people who preach about “balance,” not one of them themselves seems to practice what they preach.

I suppose there’s something to be said for “balance,” as an end in itself, being perhaps overrated. I don’t know if shooting for “balance” just for the sake of being balanced is all that productive.

I do know, however, that if you emphasize one thing over and over and over again, at the expense of developing other things, that’s a surefire recipe for burnout.

If, in attempting to improve your level of fitness, you emphasize weightlifting to the complete exclusion of cardio, you’re going to find yourself completely exhausted when your endurance is tested. Conversely, if you emphasize cardio at the expense of strength training, you’re going to wind up injured and slow.

If, in attempting to improve your intellectual development, you read nothing but self-help, psychology, and how-to books, you’re going to underdevelop your emotional and social intelligence. Conversely, if you only read fiction and poetry, you’re liable to drift away from the real world and underapprecaite the mechanics of reality.

If, in attempting to improve your romantic relationship, you only emphasize making your sex life hotter, you’re likely going to miss important attachment undertones to the bond between you and your partner. Conversely, if you only attempt to improve communication, you’ll likely miss the huge role sensuality and physicality plays in romantic bonds.

The examples are plentiful, but the lesson is clear: as we attempt to improve and develop our lives, it is necessary to look at the whole picture. Striving to make one, or a few, areas awesome, while neglecting their complementary poles, is simply an ineffective strategy.

This is what I interpret people to mean when they say they want or need more “balance” in their lives. It’s certainly what I have in mind when I encourage my patients and readers to pay attention to “balance.”

Notice, however, how I’m presenting the concept of balance: balance is a tool. It’s not an end in itself. It’s a concept that is useful in evaluating our plans and goals when we’re strategizing how to create the lives we want.

In other words, balance is something to be paid attention to— but it’s not exactly a governing principle in itself. It’s entirely possible to be perfectly balanced, but no closer to your goals. Paying attention to balance is a useful thing when we’re deep in the creative process; but setting out to create “balance” just because, well, it seems like the kind of thing most people “should” want, doesn’t make much sense to me.

Paying attention to balance has a lot of benefits. One of the main benefits is that attending to balance forces us to develop knowledge, skills, and attitudes that we might otherwise underappreciate, because they don’t come natural to us.

A straightforward example of this is my experience with strength training: I like to run. I do not like to lift weights. I think lifting weights is boring, painful, and often frustrating. Given my druthers, I’d run every day, and keep my distance from the part of the gym that has all those scary, complicated looking weight training machines in it.

However, as I began to get interested in longer and more competitive races, I came to the inescapable conclusion that if all I did was run, I was eventually going to pull and strain muscles because I’d not paid attention to strengthening and stretching them. You simply can’t run a marathon without adopting a reasonable strength training regimen alongside your cardio conditioning. It took me a strained piriformis muscle and chronic plantar fasciitis to finally accept this.

Had I been paying attention to balance in my training routine, it would have saved me some— well, a lot— of physical pain.

By the same token, if my main or only concern in training was balance, I wouldn’t have been able to run a marathon, either. There are plenty of people who are plenty balanced in their training, but who can’t run a marathon. The main goal of training to run a marathon is, you know, running a marathon— not achieving balance.

Balance is a tool. Like any tool, it can be used or neglected, but paying attention to it is useful.

Keep balance in mind as you design your new life.

Balance intellectual development with emotional development.

Balance hard work with rest and recovery.

Balance trust and hope with skepticism.

Balance appreciating the forest with paying attention to the trees.

Balance isn’t everything— but it’s an important thing.

 

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Dream big– but think small. Smaller. Smaller still.

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The Doc running the Outer Banks Marathon, November 2016.

Do you want to accomplish big things? Then get really good at focusing on accomplishing small things.

It’d be lovely if all we had to do to accomplish big things was to make up our minds to accomplish big things. To hear some people talk, that’s really all there is to it anyway. Just get your mindset right, we’re told, think positively, think BIG, and viola— our dreams are ours.

Isn’t THAT spoken like someone who has never achieved a real world goal in their life.

The fact is, a big reason most people run out of steam on their big goals is, they didn’t count on the fact that big goals are really just the cumulative sum of small goals. And while our big goal may be motivating and exciting to think about, those smaller stepping stone goals are often boring, painful, and frustrating.

The idea of achieving a decade sober is motivating. The idea of getting through one day, one hour, one minute without a drink, when literally ask you want to do is drink, is excruciating.

The idea of losing twenty pounds is motivating. The idea of abstaining from ice cream when all your friends are pressuring you to go with them to Baskin Robbins is no fun.

The idea of earning a degree is motivating. The idea of writing research papers, sitting through class, and dealing with academic politics is mind numbing.

You can think big all you want, and believe me, I’m a fan of thinking big. But when it comes down to it, “thinking big” isn’t going to be the deciding factor in who wins versus who doesn’t. The decisive set of skills is going to be who can figure out ways to embrace the grind that comes with pursuing goals.

A huge look part of successfully embracing and overcoming that grind is learning to break goals down into their smallest, most easily achievable components, then giving ourselves credit when we cross those components off of our to do lists.

To accomplish big things, think small.

I’ll bet on a small, step by step, one day at a time thinker over a bombastic, “think exponential” dreamer any day of the week.

I run races. Five and ten K’s, half marathons, and at least one marathon a year. And what running has taught me, far more effectively than anything I’ve experienced as a psychologist, is that the key to finishing is no more or less than figuring out some way to take the next step.

Not to take three or four steps at a time. Not to try to run whole miles at a time. But to figure out what is necessary to take one. More. Step.

Sometimes the key to taking that next step is distraction. Figuring out some way to take your mind off of the soreness in your legs and the burning in your lungs, long enough to take another step.

Sometimes the key to taking that next step is remembering why I took the first step. Thinking about this example I’m striving to set. Thinking about what my experience in completing this race can help me explain to my patients and readers.

Sometimes the key to taking that next step is to visualize my own role models, the people and characters who taught me who I am, who I can be, and what’s important.

The important lesson, however, remains: focus on that next step. If you focus on the miles ahead, you’re going to start to get queasy. The like aches and pains in your body are going to start aching and burning worse. Your brain is going to start working overtime, finding reasons why you can’t possibly complete all the miles ahead.

If you want to run 26.1 miles, don’t even focus on running one mile. Focus on the step that’s right in front of you.

After all, you’re going to have to take that step anyway, right?

If you want to get ten years sober, don’t think about ten years. Think about getting through this day sober. And to get through this day sober? Think about getting through this hour sober. And to get through this hour sober?

You got it. Only focus on this minute. (You’ll have the opportunity to focus on the next minute soon enough, I promise you.)

Dream big, by all means. We’re capable of so much more than our cultural and historical conditioning has allowed us to believe. Set goals that inspire you, goals that motivate you and turn you on, goals that will put to rest the ghosts of your past.

But one you’ve decided where you’re committed to ending up? Start thinking small. Way small. One day at a time, one minute at a time, one step at a time small.

I’ll see you at the finish line.

 

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Procrastination: A Game of Pleasure and Pain

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If you have the tendency to put things off, you’re probably frustrated by it. Most people who have this tendency become enormously frustrated, even angry at themselves, over time.

It’s definitely the case that procrastination often comes with a high price tag. Putting things off, particularly things that are time sensitive like paying bills, beginning projects, or returning calls, can very easily lead to consequences that range from hurt feelings, damaged careers, all the way to legal problems or aggressive creditors.

What’s even more frustrating about procrastination is that many people who do it seem to have no idea why. Even if they acknowledge the practical harm that procrastination inflicts upon their lives, they’re frequently at a loss to explain the pattern in any rational way.

From a behavioral science point of view, procrastination isn’t rocket science. Behavioral psychology asserts that most behavior choices can be understood by tallying the perceived reinforcement associated with one behavior versus another.

That is, the things we choose to do, we associate with relatively more pleasure; the things we avoid doing, we associate with more pain.

If you’re putting something off, it’s because you associate more pain with it than the alternatives.

How can that be, though, insofar as we know for a stone cold fact that procrastination leads, over time, to an enormous amount of pain?

Our brains are magnificent creations. They’re wired to avoid pain and cultivate pleasure. For that matter, the fact that we’ve evolved to avoid pain and cultivate pleasure gives us a clue about our fundamental human needs: pleasure has survival value.

(That bears repeating: pleasure has survival value. We’ll return to this subject in a later blog.)

The thing is, though, our brains didn’t evolve to think particularly long term.

When our brains, as we know them today, were in the process of evolving, long term planning wasn’t a particular survival priority. Our caveman and cavewoman ancestors were getting chased around by wild prehistoric animals and aggressive competitive cave people, who threatened their physical survival on a day to day, hour to hour basis.

The cave person who sat around attempting to plan out the next six months was at serious risk of getting literally eaten.

So, our brains evolved with a bias for the moment. They are naturally responsive to what is happing in the here and now. They respond, in other words, to the pleasure-or-pain choice that is right in front of our face— not the potential pleasure or pain that is weeks, months, or even days down the road.

What does any of this have to do with you, the modern day procrastinator?

Something we need to understand about our brains is that they’re not evolutionarily all that removed from our caveman and cavewoman ancestors. Like our prehistoric ancestors, our brains tend to respond to the pleasure-or-pain response right in front of our faces.

Long term goals are most often comprised of daily, component, steppingstone goals along the way— many of which aren’t particularly sexy. Steppingstone goals don’t carry with them the gratification associated with achieving the end goal. They’re often boring. They’re often decontextualized from the larger task. They’re often frustrating.

Whereas everyone likes the idea of achieving a long term goal, few people get fired up about intermediate goals. So those goals are easy to put off. They represent more pain than pleasure to our brains, so our brains have little problem shunting them off until later.

Immediate gratification is perceived by our brains to be a “sure thing.” It is, after all, immediate. Delayed gratification, by definition, is less sure— after all, if we take the chance in putting off gratification, many things could happen between now and then to keep that gratification from happening.

Neuropsychological research strongly suggests our brains prefer sure things to uncertain things, in much the same way they prefer pleasure to pain.

All of which is to say: procrastination may seem irrational, given the pain that chronic procrastination inflicts upon us. But, when viewed through the lens of evolutionary psychology, behavioral psychology, and neuropsychology, it’s actually a fairly straightforward equation.

In other words, you’re not lazy if you procrastinate.

You’re not a bad person if you procrastinate.

You’re not “broken” if you procrastinate.

What do we do about procrastination?

Luckily, understanding the evolutionary and behavioral roots of this behavior also suggest some straightforward ways to short-circuit it. Specifically, if procrastination is essentially our brain balking at uninteresting, unrewarding tasks, the logical solution is to find some way to make steppingstone goals less aversive.

We can do that by chopping steppingstone goals into little, doable chunks.

We can do that by rewarding little steps toward our goals, not just the final goal.

We can do that by soliciting support of others to keep reminding us of our eventual long-term goals, so we don’t lose the forest for the trees.

As usual, no matter how frustrated we get with ourselves over a seemingly irrational behavior, the key to overcoming that behavior turns out to be in patiently understanding that behavior.

Compassion and patience with ourselves will win every time.

Others’ journeys are not yours. Your journey is not theirs.

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Some people will try to beat you over the head with their life experience. As if “what they’ve been through” somehow makes them an expert on what you need, want, or deserve.

What someone has been through qualifies them to speak about THEIR experience. Their experience may have clarified for them what THEY need. Their experience may have helped them understand what motivates THEM. They may have learned lessons for THEIR journey.

Make no mistake, it’s certainly possible to learn lessons from other peoples’ journeys. The question is not whether other peoples’ experiences have relevance to our own. Insofar as we are all human beings who are faced, broadly, with similar challenges in the course of our journeys, it’d be silly to disregard the lessons other peoples’ lives, triumphs, and tragedies may have to teach us.

That said: you are still the expert on you.

Because someone has “life experience” does not suddenly make them more of an expert on you than you.

It’s kind of amazing to watch how marketing, especially in the field of personal growth and self-help, seems to hinge upon undermining your confidence that you know what you need. In a field bursting with people who have various levels of credentials, insight, and experience, a common practice seems to be to construct a pedestal from which the “expert” can look down upon the “novice” and impart some sort of esoteric wisdom. It’s kind of an extension of the old-fashioned, one up/one down power dynamic that some forms of traditional psychotherapy enshrine.

It seems to me that there are two ways, generally, to approach the task of empowering people.

One way is to assume that the “learner” lacks something, is somehow incomplete, and that the “teacher” (therapist, coach, guru, guide, sponsor, mentor) is there to provide them with that missing piece. This approach implies that without the wisdom and insight of the teacher, the learner will wander aimlessly, lost without their missing puzzle piece.

It’s kind of a “top down” model of moving people from where they are.

The other approach is to assume that the learner or student already has the keys to their own empowerment within them— that they are not incomplete or defective. That maybe, because of life experiences, traumas, lack of support, or some other intrusive variable along the way, they’ve been cut off from the resources that already exist within them.

This “bottom up” approach implies it is the task of the mentor or guide to reconnect the seeker with the wisdom and healing capacity already lying dormant within them.

You only need to know a little bit about me or my writing to guess which approach I take.

Personal growth isn’t the same as learning a specific skill. With many types of skill building, there are objective levels of expertise, and the more skilled can help along the less skilled. A skill building approach is very helpful when you’re learning how to play a sport, learning how to use a piece of equipment, learning how to use language, learning how to play an instrument.

However, personal growth is different from straightforward skill building because everybody is different. No two people have the same set of needs. No two people have the same internal resources, strengths, and weaknesses. No two people have the same history, or are presented with the same challenges. Literally everybody’s journey to personal growth— what psychologists call “self actualization”— is quite the same.

It is the height of arrogance to suggest that because someone has mastered a particular challenge in their lives, they know what you need to tackle the challenges in yours.

It is the height of arrogance to suggest that because someone has overcome obstacles in their lives, that you should be able to conquer yours in exactly the same way.

Human beings do not roll off an assembly line, with uniform specifications and an instruction booklet for what to do when they break. Figuring out to do when a human life isn’t working well is a highly individualized task— because each human being is an individual, with dignity, worth, and their own unique circuitry that “experience” may or may not have taught anyone else how to rewire.

It’s tempting to buy into the claims of some people that they know, based on their life experiences, what you need. It kind of absolves us of this scary, in some ways overwhelming, responsibility to figure out what it is we need, and places that onus somewhere other than on our shoulders.

Some people have this fantasy of surrendering to government; some people fantasize about surrendering to an ideology; some people have the fantasy of surrendering to another human being.

But that impulse, to let someone else take the wheel, is ultimately counterproductive— because, again, you are the expert on you.

We can’t fix this broken life without the input, and active participation, of the expert.

What’s more: you are up to this task of fixing this broken life.

You may have forgotten or lost touch with the part of you that knows how to do it, but believe me, that part exists within you.

It’s waiting for you to find it again.

 

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