Brave New Kitty

Another “first principle” aspect to personal growth lies in how to best go about doing it. Most of us start down this path because we’re sick of our lives as they are, have hit some sort of emotional bottom, or simply because we want to feel better and it’s occurred to us that this is possible. (Amazingly, many people stay stuck because it doesn’t occur to them that change is possible.) But once we reach that point, what do we do? How does change actually occur?

Being sick and tired, hitting an emotional bottom, and wanting to feel better are all good primary incentives for change, but they alone are not enough to create it. All must be followed up by action. And which action a person chooses will greatly influence the amount of time necessary for and the degree to which personal change occurs.

Everybody’s path is different, but even so, I think there are some “first principles” that, if earnestly followed, will create the greatest amount of change in the shortest amount of time, as well as produce the most awareness about why we do what we do and are the way we are. They are in no particular order as they are all “first principles” of growth and change, but being first principles, are all essential elements of the process.

Here they are.

• Become a ruthless seeker of truth. You must commit to seeking truth no matter what, even if it means facing unpleasant facts about yourself, your childhood, and your true motivations for the things you do. Often this means seeking objective opinions from people who desire to help you, as with therapy. Most of us are blind to many aspects of ourselves, both good and bad, and even more so to the deeper reasons why we do things. If we truly want to change, we must seek the help of someone willing and able to ferret those things out. Truth-seeking also applies to the external world, where we ought be constantly looking for the truest, rightest, most complete forms of knowledge and awareness we can possibly find. Anything less is just another form of anesthesia, and while some of it may result in change, the results will not be as positive as they could be. Seeking truth requires courage and commitment, because it is so easy to settle for half-truths that are easier to swallow and less disturbing than more whole ones. But it is the more whole ones that have the most power to transform, and seeking them will add exponentially to our sense of well-being, even if we don’t always like what we see.
• Do the next right thing. In short, doing the next right thing means doing what’s in front of you to do to the best of your ability without worrying too much about the bigger picture. Follow the link for a more detailed discussion.
• Commit to a spiritual practice. This may seem like an odd first principle for someone who considers herself an atheist, but the way I define spirituality, I don’t find it odd at all. To me, a spiritual practice is one that nourishes your spirit. It can be anything from a creative hobby, such as cooking or gardening, to meditation (my personal favorite), to, yes, finding a church and committing to regular attendance. Whatever you do, as long as no one else is hurt and as long as it helps you feel grounded and connected to yourself and the world, is a spiritual practice. And it is important because it brings us in touch with our deeper selves and strengthens our sense of who we are, what we want, our place in the world, and even our connections to others. Many will shirk on this, thinking such “idle” time is fruitless, but is is so very important to do this. It will accelerate the pace of change in ways you can’t imagine, and it will feel good in the process.
• Help others. Being of service to other people is important in helping ourselves. It helps us realize that we are not alone and are rather part of a larger entity, and that that entity is part of us. Helping others is also a way to reinforce our own positive change within ourselves. You might believe you have nothing to offer, but I promise you that you do. We all do. This doesn’t necessarily mean charity work (although it certainly could). It might mean writing articles or creating goods or services that help people. It might mean giving up a parking spot so an elderly person can have it, or returning kindness for anger, or working to be a better partner, friend, or parent. There are so many ways to be of service that it is impossible to list them. All you have to do is look for them.
• To thine own self be true. Learn to listen for that still, small voice inside of you that always knows what’s right. Follow your conscience. Take care of yourself. Don’t overdo it. Get plenty of rest. Pursue what you love. Find ways to feel good. Don’t let other people talk you into things that seem wrong for you. And where you doubt, seek the counsel of people with the ability and desire to help you.

Some of you may recognize many of these ideas as having 12 Step undertones. That’s true. While I no longer attend AA meetings, and don’t agree with all of AA’s tenets, I did learn a lot from them. I think they are a good model for personal change and that a person who needs help could do worse than starting there. If you are a seeker of truth, your path will extend far beyond that humble beginning, anyway; this has been my experience. But it isn’t important where you start, only that you do. You can adopt all of these principles without ever setting foot in an AA meeting, and change is guaranteed.

Yes, personal change can be messy work, and yes, it can take awhile to come out the other side. But just like anything else, a systematic approach to emotional pain and issues of “stuckness” will yield the best results. These first principles are the best guidelines I’ve yet come across for that process, for which there are no shortcuts.

People who grow up in invalidating environments often have a number of personal “first principles” to come to terms with. In this sense, first principles means basic truths about their lives and circumstances that they learned to ignore in order to survive childhood. But seeing these truths as first principles is useful, because coming to terms with them–confronting and accepting them–is the only way to move past them, to a point where they are no longer a powerful force in a person’s life.

“Learned to ignore” might sound like a negative phrase, but it is not; it is merely an honest one. When children grow up in invalidating circumstances, the cognitive dissonance created between a child’s innate assumption that she is loved (an instinctive survival mechanism) and reality has to be resolved somehow. The most common way a child does this is to redefine her reality in a way that reduces the sense of threat that the invalidation creates. This is not bad or wrong or negative in any way. It is merely the best option available. So for example, if a child’s father belittles or shames her, she will tell herself that she deserves it because this is preferable to believing her father is a cruel person or doesn’t love her. To believe the latter is akin, in a child’s view of the world, to believing that she doesn’t deserve to survive. It’s a terrible bind, but believing she’s bad or unlovable can become powerfully ingrained in a child when her environment is chronically invalidating. Often, such a child will reach adulthood with little or no awareness about her skewed perception of reality. Rather, she will have a vague sense that something is wrong, which she will tend to downplay or ignore because she has no confidence in her ability to discern such things. From authentic emotions, she is almost completely cut off. Learning to ignore her most basic sense of her self is an awful way to cope, but for a young child in such circumstances, it is usually the best option available.

And what is this “most basic sense of self”? Well, there are a number of emotional and psychological principles that fit here. One is the simple belief that all children deserve to be treated with respect; another is that nobody should ever feel less-than, in a fundamental way, than anybody else. (Yes, others have different and better talents than us, but this does not make them fundamentally superior or more deserving of basic respect and kindness. Everybody deserves kindness and respect, no matter what.) Still another is that if you grew up in an invalidating environment, it was not your fault. And that you deserved better. And that it is up to you to decide what you want to do about that (as long as what you do doesn’t hurt or infringe on the rights of others).

But these just touch on the basic, most fundamental sense of humanity that is (or should be) universal to us all. We each of us must also come to terms with deeper, more personal, and usually far more painful truths. And each of us must reach these conclusions on our own, through our own willingness to unearth and discover them. Doing so is a sort of judgment day in that, when we are finally able to do this, we throw off the blinders and see clearly for the first time in our lives the truth about our circumstances. Yes, this can be painful, but it is the cleanest, most necessary, and most healing emotional pain you will ever feel.

While I believe most of the truths we learn to deny as children fall into a similar category, I wouldn’t presume to know the personal first principles of others. Our perceptions are unique and what matters deeply to one person may be easily shrugged off by someone else. Having said that, I think sharing my own first principles, the ones that were so hard to accept and yet so vital to my sense of self, could be helpful to people trying to figure out their own. So here goes.

One of the primary first principles that I had to come to terms with is that my parents did not love me. This is so contrary to what we know and intuit and believe that it’s hard even now to put it in writing. I know it disturbs people when I say it, because many will immediately start telling me that I’m being too harsh, or make excuses for my parents such as they did the best they could. I did these things myself for years. When I got close to this truth, I would back off, either by telling myself I was “expecting too much” or that “it wasn’t that bad,” or burden myself with the task of forgiving people who “did the best they could.” But the more I stayed with the process, the more I began to see that these were all the wrong responses, ways I backed away from a very disturbing truth, ways that I still chose to blame myself rather than hold other people accountable for their actions. When I finally stopped doing this, I was able to see the simple truth: my parents did not love me. I wish they had, but they hadn’t. When they had to choose between my well-being and their own, they chose their own; when they had to sacrifice their own wants for mine, they refused; and as far as simple kindness, respect, and support, I got none, at least, not any that wasn’t somehow tied to their own narcissism. It was never, ever about me and my budding personhood; it was always about them and how my existence filled or detracted from theirs.

Thus, my parents did not love me. When I at last saw this truth naked and raw before me, it was as though my whole being exhaled in existential relief; it was as though my psyche said, “finally,” and the truth did, indeed, set me free. It is a truth I would have preferred not to be the truth, but facing it was sooo much better than denying it. From facing it, I was able to see so many things clearly that I never had before, from the reasons this was so (they had nothing to do with me) to the myriad ways it’s affected me. I have even been able to reach a point of true forgiveness, which would not otherwise have been possible.

Another first principle I had to come to terms with was that because of my childhood invalidation, I am an angry person. Oh, how I avoided this truth. When I got close to it, my distress was so great I had to distract myself in any way I could–if it wasn’t drugs and relationships, then it was AA meetings and more relationships. But as I continued to get healthier, I found it more and more difficult to distract myself, until one day, the truth hit me like a sledgehammer: I am an angry person. I saw it in my humor, in my music, in the people I was attracted to; the more I looked, the more I saw it in my basic approach to life, in how it colored every thought I thought, every decision I made, and nearly every problem I was struggling with. Accepting this about myself was incredibly painful. I spiraled into a depression, felt hopelessly resigned to repeat the lives of my parents, felt like my whole life was a worthless, horrible lie. It seemed to validate all of my worst fears about myself, hook all of my shame, and prove that I was the undeserving, unlovable person I always secretly believed about myself.

It took me weeks to fully accept this truth, but when I did, I embraced it. Of course I’m angry, I realized. A child who grows up the way I did should be angry–and rightfully so! Being angry is a natural and healthy response to not having your needs met, to being chronically shamed, to being treated like a non-person. Not being angry about such things would the far more pathological reaction. And in accepting this basic truth, this first principle about myself, I set myself free once again. Anger, I realized, is not in itself bad or wrong. Anger is not only out-of-control rage and passive-aggressive hostility (like I’d been raised with), it is also power, strength, and justice. Anger can be righteous, it can be used for good. And since I’d been blessed with a surplus of it, I decided that this was how I wanted to channel it. Also, iron though it sounds, accepting the anger took away a lot of its sting. While I still struggle at times with my anger, I no longer believe I’m a bad person because I have it. I can not say what a tremendous transformation this was for me.

There are other first principles I could share, but I’ll leave it there (this is getting very long). I hope I’ve made my point, that there are riches beyond compare in confronting and accepting what we believe are unpleasant truths about ourselves. I would also like to state that this is not blame, but acceptance of the way things are; life on life’s terms, as the recovering alcoholics like to say. Yes, I had a rough start, but it’s up to me what I decide to do about that–this is another first principle that is absolutely essential to moving past the grief of your past and getting on with living life in the present. In this first principle lies magic–the magic to live life fully, by your own means, with as few regrets as possible.

I think, therefore I am. — Descartes

If you want to live a principled life, it is important to know about first principles: what they are in general, and what yours are in particular. A first principle is one that cannot be deduced from any other. In mathematics, these are known as axioms and postulates; in science, they are considered established laws of nature–gravity, for example. In philosophy, first principles are, according to Aristotle, “the first basis from which a thing is known.” Aristotle considered the discovering of first principles to be the primary task of philosophy.

The Descartes quote at the beginning is a good example of a philosophical first principle. Descartes used a systematic form of doubting to doubt everything he possibly could until he was left with what he believed were indubitable truths, or first principles. “I think, therefore I am” is one of the most well-known philosophical first principles ever conceived. It may seem so obvious, in fact, that we can overlook its significance. But this first principle was the first time anyone actually linked existence to cognition, to consciousness. And in doing this, Descartes established that everything we do, see, and experience is filtered through our individual minds. From this first principle came a whole spectrum of other ideas, theories, methods, and first principles, from the scientific method to the idea of self-ownership, which ushered in a new political system based on the autonomy of the individual. This simple, obvious first principle about rational thought brought much of our modern world into existence.

First principles are crucial to all fields of study. Without first principles, it would be hard to imagine any advances in any scientific, mathematical, or philosophical endeavors. First principles form the foundation of all formal, logical thinking. Without them, it would be nearly impossible to approach any subject systematically.

Most people don’t think about first principles all that much. I know I hadn’t until very recently, when the idea came up in a conversation with a friend of mine. But this isn’t because they aren’t important; in fact, quite the opposite. First principles are a major backdrop of life, underlying every thought we think and idea we hold, every product we use, every interaction we have with other people. They are common and important in much the same way as oxygen is: so much so that even though we don’t think about it, we can’t survive without it.

This is just as true in everyday life for everyday people as it is for scientists doing research and philosophers writing books. A person who is clear about first principles is going to have a clearer road through life in general. Decisive first principles will make it easier to make decisions, to know right from wrong, to establish and achieve goals, to be successful, and to be happy. Without established first principles, a person’s life will be full of inconsistencies, confusion, half-truths, irrational conclusions, poor comprehension, misunderstood failures, and likely, much misery.

To determine your own first principles, you have to do two things. First, you have to adopt standardized first principles that make sense to you (but only after you have given them some thought and determined why they make sense to you).  “I think, therefore I am” is a good first principle for someone who believes in self-ownership and personal autonomy, for example. “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you” is also a good first principle to live by if being respectful is important to you, as is Do the next right thing. And although I am not a religious person, most of the ten commandments also provide good, simple first principles of morality to live by (which, although attributed to god by religious folks, were written by man). These are just a few examples of many which a person can find and follow in living a principled life. The more research you do, and the more philosophies and spiritual teachings you expose yourself to, the more first principles you will find that make sense, feel good, and help you fine-tune your basic life philosophy (which, really, is a lifelong endeavor).

The second thing you have to do is determine your own first principles. In this sense, first principles are really your “bottom line” rules that you feel strongly about. In some sense, I suppose they could be considered your boundaries: what you will and will not tolerate in your life. You should establish these first principles for yourself in all areas of your life: career, relationship, friendships, and physical, intellectual, and spiritual pursuits. Figure out not only what’s important to you, but what is essential to you–and why. In relationships, for example, honesty is one of my first principles. But this can mean different things to different people. For me, it doesn’t mean my partner has to tell me everything going on with him all the time, merely that we be able to talk honestly with each other about the relationship and our feelings. In friendships, feeling heard is important to me, and I find that I feel awful after spending time with someone who is not a good listener (I think this is because it stirs up my family-of-origin issues, which is a good thing to know about myself). And in my intellectual and spiritual pursuits, truth-seeking is of utmost importance to me, far more than finding comfort and solace. Thus, honesty, respectfulness, and truth-seeking are three of my most important first principles that I try my best to live my life by. When I follow them, I feel good. When I deviate from them, I feel bad.

If I didn’t have these first principles clearly delineated, I would be hard pressed to connect feeling good or feeling bad to anything in particular. I might chalk bad feelings up to depression, and start taking medication, or chalk good feelings up to emotional highs, and chase after them, ever wondering why the exhilaration was so fleeting and followed by such terrible lows. Having first principles to live by provides emotional, intellectual, and spiritual guidance in a way that no external source can. For rules to live by to be meaningful, they have to personally chosen and internalized as your own. And they have to be rules that make you proud of yourself.

This may sound mechanical or dull, like it would take all the spontaneity out of life, but the opposite is true. In learning any skill, you must learn the basics before moving on to more complex techniques; if you can’t read, you’ll never be able to write, right? The same is true for life choices in general. If you have the basics down–your bottom lines, your boundaries, and your moral principles–you stand a much better chance of attaining more advanced skills. Advanced critical thinking skills, advanced spiritual states, advanced levels of relationships (that is, those that are the most satisfying and make you the most happy). And, because you know your limits, you will be less fearful and more confident, thus more willing to take risks and move beyond your comfort zone when required or desired. Simply put, you’ll be better equipped to get what you want out of life, in every way, shape and form. Rather than dull, living by first principles opens up doors to adventures and excitement not possible to people who are less aware of who they are, what they want, and why. To be adventurous and bold in life is to be confident, and confidence is a result of awareness and understanding.

If you want to get and be what you want, you have to know what you stand for. First principles are the foundation, the tools, and the path for this lifetime endeavor.

Many years ago I read a book called Love’s Hidden Symmetry: What Makes Love Work in Relationships by a man who did workshops in which people would assign family roles to the other workshop attendees, then physically position them to represent how they felt connected (or not connected) to them. The workshops helped people uncover sources and reasons for the emotional pain in their lives.

I don’t have a lot more to say about these workshops, although it was quite fascinating how people could have epiphanies by engaging in this unique process. I mention the book because it’s what first got me thinking about generational gunk: that whatever emotional pain isn’t dealt with in one generation is passed onto the next.

This is a different idea than what I usually write about. Instead of merely understanding that we are how we are largely because of our pasts, and particularly how our parents regarded us, it sort of goes to the core of our parents’ issues themselves. That is, it isn’t only about how our parents regarded and treated us, but also, and just as importantly, about how parents’ own unresolved issues get passed onto their children, sometimes in spite of their best efforts not to do so.

I was thinking about this the other day as I watched a woman I know interacting with her kids. She is a very kind and bright person, and has worked very hard at being a good mother; she has made an effort to instill her kids with good self-esteem and confidence and encouraged them to think and act for themselves. I also suspect she’s read a lot of books about parenting just because she is that kind of person, and also because I see her doing so many of the right things with her kids. But as good as all of this is–and it is very, very good–her ability to raise confident children with good self-esteem is limited by her own lacking in these areas.

Because the truth is that, no matter how hard you try, you are going to pass your own unresolved issues onto your kids. If you have low self-esteem, you’re going to pass it onto your kids. If you have shame issues, your kids are going to have them. If you’re still angry at your own parents for their mistakes, your kids are going to “inherit” the tendency to be angry at you for yours. And all of this is true no matter how aware you are of your issues, no matter how much you try to compensate for them, no matter how much you try to be different than your own parents or hide your shortcomings or read books about how to raise happy kids. And there is very little, in the way of parenting, that you can do about it.

The truth is, kids pick up just as much on what we don’t say or do than what we do. So if you work to instill good self-esteem in your kids but don’t have it yourself, your kids aren’t going to have it, either. This is because efforts to instill it in your kids creates a sort of cognitive dissonance that puts a kid in the position of having to choose what to believe–and what he chooses is always going to be what’s modeled for him over what’s told to him; this is because he knows, on some level, that the modeling is the “truer” message of the two. Even if he himself is unaware of this knowing, even if he expresses all the right phrases and ideas concerning self-esteem. When he starts getting in trouble at school, or experimenting with drugs or sex or other dangerous behavior at too young an age or in an irresponsible way, or tends to give up on activities when they start to get hard, or acts out in any other non-self-loving way, this is his attempt to resolve the cognitive dissonance created by the difference between what you say to him and what you really believe about yourself. And if you look carefully, you’re bound to recognize your own unresolved issues in whatever acting out the kid is doing.

There’s more to it than that, of course, but this is the gist of it: whatever issues you don’t resolve for yourself get passed on to your children.

Generational gunk.

I know many people who will despair at this. I know many people who will either argue this point as ridiculous, or start making an inventory to see how screwed up they really are in hopes that it’s not too awful for their kids. Neither reaction is particularly useful; neither reaction does much in terms of helping your kids be happier, more self-accepting humans. There are really only two helpful things you can do.

The first is to accept the situation. Nobody is perfect, and nobody raises perfect kids. If you do your best, your kids will turn out imperfect, but alright. In many ways, such acceptance is the very best you can do; it models self-acceptance and self-love in a way that a child will respond favorably to, and will be helpful in dealing with all the other issues you’re both going to have to deal with.

The second thing is the harder of the two, and the most important, not just for your children, but for yourself, and that is to work, work, work on yourself. Know yourself, examine yourself, understand yourself. Know how your personal history affects you and know how it affects your children. Discover the parts of yourself you want to change, and work on changing them. Work on shame, low self-esteem, and anger. Most of all, learn to accept and love yourself no matter what, to embrace even your least attractive qualities (we all have them) as part of who you are, and learn to do this even as you work toward change. This is how you resolve your issues, and this is how you refrain from passing them onto your kids. No amount of book learning or lip service can help here; the change must come from within.

Love’s hidden symmetry goes both ways; this seems to be a law of the human psyche. If ever there was an argument to work on yourself, this is it. If you won’t do it for yourself, surely you can do it for your kids. While working on yourself is the most loving, kindest thing anybody can do for themselves, it is also the greatest gift of love a person can give to their children and, in fact, to the world at large. Nothing else even comes close.

You can rely on external philosophies and opinions for guidance (in fact, you have to), but if you want to be a self-confident person, able to make good decisions that are most likely to help you achieve your wants, goals, and dreams, you have to think for yourself.

Examples abound of why this is the case. In general terms, people who achieve the most in life, regardless of the field they’re in, are those who’ve worked hard to learn, understand, and draw their own conclusions. People who follow the ideas of others rarely, if ever, become great thinkers or leaders. This is because when you can’t or won’t make the effort to figure things out for yourself, you are not using your most fundamental human survival tool, your brain. And if you don’t use your brain to figure things out for yourself, you will never develop enough self-confidence to excel in any field.

There has been a trend in the past few decades to instill “self-esteem” in children by praising them and focusing on the positive of everything they do while downplaying or ignoring the negative. Parents will treat every drawing a child does as a work of art, for example. And in many “competitions” now, from spelling to sports, it is customary to give awards to all participants rather than the top few who did truly excellent work. Any type of criticism, no matter how constructive, is considered unhealthy and damaging.

But I submit that this attitude of mindless egalitarianism is far more damaging. There is a huge difference between cruelty and honesty, and in trying to eradicate all cruelty, I think we’ve missed the larger and more important point that to develop self confidence, a child has to learn to make an effort to become good at something; she must, by her own volition, learn to think for herself. And this is true whether she wants to run a marathon or rid the world of cancer.

You cannot give someone self-esteem. You can give them love, support, encouragement, honest feedback, and by doing so you can help them along in their journey, but self-esteem is purely an inside job. It is the result of learning, thinking, and testing one’s ideas on a regular basis in the effort to create ever-more-precise ideas about what’s right and wrong, what works and what doesn’t, and what’s best for you. You make mistakes, learn from them, and readjust your views. You try and fail, you learn some more, you try again. Merely by engaging in this process, regardless of how often you’re right and how often you’re wrong (because we are always some combination of both), you gain confidence in your ability to think, to take care of yourself, and to act in your own best interest. You can see examples of this in the world of science, in the world of entrepreneurship, in the world of sports, and really, everywhere else you care to look. People who succeed are people who are willing to try, fail, readjust, and try again. Over and over and over. And these are not people who’ve been magically bestowed with a mysterious dose of self-esteem. These are people who’ve achieved self-esteem by embracing the process itself.

Nobody can bestow self-esteem on anybody else. Self-esteem given from another person via praise and  empty feedback isn’t self-esteem at all, but rather, a sort of empty narcissism and false sense of self that brings people further away from the real work they need to do rather than closer to it. We all need support and encouragement, but they are not a substitute for our own efforts.

It may all sound like a lot of work, or maybe an “unromantic” approach to life that takes all the mystery out of it. “Who wants to think that hard all the time?” People might ask. But the truth is that if you train yourself to think and reason and come to your own conclusions, life becomes so much more satisfying, so much more full of adventure and excitement. This is because you’ve developed confidence in your abilities, so you are less likely to limit yourself to the comfortable and the safe, and more likely to challenge yourself, expand yourself in bold directions, more likely to learn more and have more opportunities, and more likely to be happy in and enjoy all of these endeavors.

But isn’t confidence enough in itself? And if thinking for yourself is the way to develop confidence, then, really, what other persuasion is required?

Developing self-esteem/self-confidence is not a mystery. It is the simple, straightforward task of learning to use your brain to your own best advantage. This is not to say there aren’t obstacles– emotional, psychological, or otherwise–that must be overcome, or that this is easy to do. There likely will be, and sometimes this process is difficult and takes a lot of time. But making the effort is the only way to get where you want to be, regardless of the path you have to take. And it is the most important effort any of us can hope to make. A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

If you agree that everybody has a philosophy, and that the better thought out a person’s philosophy is, the better he will be at making decisions and basically getting the most out of his life, then the next logical question, I think, is “How do you arrive at a personal philosophy?”

It hadn’t occurred to me right away that this was the next question. Then I started thinking about how there are so many people looking for philosophy in all the wrong places, places that aren’t really going to help them develop their own set of values and criteria for advancing themselves through their lives. I say “advancing” because that’s what we, as human beings, do. We are driven to improve our lot in life and that’s just the way it is. We ate berries and wanted meat. We ate meat raw and wanted it cooked. We lived in caves and wanted dryer, warmer shelters. We discovered tools but wanted better ones. We discovered drawing and turned it into art. We created language and turned it into literature, philosophy and law. We discovered math and created physics, economics, music, and technology. In short, humans advance. We improve our lot in life, in general terms as a race, and in specific terms as individuals. It’s who we are. And even if for some odd reason a person argued that he isn’t interested in improving his own lot, he would be hard-pressed for a reason he didn’t want to leave a better legacy for his children.

But even though our will to survive is indelibly linked with our will to thrive, we have taken a number of wrong turns throughout history, and have thus left ourselves with some less-than-stellar options for figuring certain things out. These options are mostly the philosophical ones, since science, being objective, sorts itself out pretty well: if the math is wrong, the rocket won’t make it to the moon, and it’s back to the drawing board. Philosophy, however (and I use the term philosophy in the most general of ways, to mean all the studies that pertain to the subjective human experience, e.g., religion, psychology, literature, philosophy, politics, and to some extent, economics) is based on subjective ideas, which makes it much more susceptible to flawed thinking, errors in judgment, and personal biases. Philosophy is also much more difficult to prove “right” or “wrong” than a math-based science, as it is usually some of each.

Yet it is these flawed philosophies that man must turn to in his effort to determine his values and sets of criteria for advancing himself through his life. How, among all the philosophies available to the modern, literate human being, each one full of promise yet incomplete, does a person decide just what is the best path to follow in the development of a personal philosophy? The choices are truly overwhelming, with each one claiming to offer the most wisdom, the most happiness, the most solace. When you consider the amazing plethora of options, it is not surprising that most people tend to fall back on a few tried and true choices for their guiding principles, despite obvious shortcomings, or ignore the issue altogether as best they can.

Religion is probably the most common fall-back for the modern person who seeks guiding principles. It is the oldest and the most established option. It offers an instant community of like-minded people. And if you choose one within your cultural norms, it comes with a full set of values that you can comfortably adopt as your own and feel okay about.

But the drawbacks are many. Just because something is well-established does not necessarily mean it’s the best option. The three major Western religions–Islam, Judaism, and Christianity–are all thousands of years old, each with millions of believers. Which one is right? They are vastly different theologies, yet each claims to have the absolute truth, and each promises all sorts of horrifying consequences for not believing in it. Upon objective examination, these claims become more akin to Santa Claus and the tooth fairy than any divine wisdom. Yes, each religion contains kernels of truth, is based on universal truths of the human condition, but these kernels have become so buried under human agendas and political and economic motivations over the centuries that it is virtually impossible to know the true doctrines without a great deal of theological study and research. Thus, whatever the kernels of truth might be, they are best gotten at through intellectual understanding–theological study–than dogmatic belief.

But religion, by definition, requires dogmatic belief–that is, acceptance of its authority without question, merely because it is the authority. And dogmatic belief is the very antithesis of a guiding philosophy. Its appeal is also its downfall: an established set of principles for how a person should live his life. But if a set of principles has not been arrived at through a person’s own process of critical thinking and analysis, then they aren’t really his own principles. Rather, they are a list of rules with little more meaning than those a child would follow in school to avoid punishment. They might provide some guidance and comfort, but they will never be fully your own.

And not being your own, and being mostly a set of rules about how to avoid punishment and conform to externally imposed beliefs, they can’t really be considered values. Conforming out of fear is the lowest, basest, least meaningful “principle” a human being can have. Alleviation of anxiety is not a sound foundation for a personal philosophy.

Furthermore, dogmatic beliefs are meant to squelch critical thinking rather than encourage it. And without critical thinking, man is only a shadow of what he can and should be.

For all of these reasons, religion has lost its once powerful grip. As the “common” man has become increasingly more educated and able to think for himself, modern society has become increasingly secular. How could it not, when dogmatic beliefs are now so easy to challenge and refute?

This is mostly a good thing. People are freer and less guilt-ridden in their decision-making processes than ever before. And instead of obligatory conforming to the faith of one’s culture, people are now free to follow the spiritual pursuits of their choice. But there is a big drawback, too: religion provided a solid foundation upon which a person could live his life, and however limited it may have been, nothing has really replaced it. The opportunities to develop a personal philosophy are greater and more exciting than they have ever been, but they are also much more amorphous. Without religion to decree the right and wrong of things, we are each left to decide on our own. And while this is a very, very good thing, it has, as the dialectic of progress declares that it must, also ushered in a whole new set of problems. Where does one turn to find guiding principles and a personal philosophy?

In many cases, I’m sad to say, all the wrong places. The vacuum created by the downfall of dogmatic beliefs has been largely filled by secular equivalents, such as the law. While initially designed to allow people the dignity to pursue their own happiness in their own way (and the Founding Fathers took for granted that a person knew this involved having moral agency, or at least understood the futility of trying to legislate it), the law has deteriorated into a paternalistic entity people have become dependent on to provide rules for living and care in their hour of need. We now have laws for nearly every area of personal choice imaginable: matrimony, sex, education, income, smoking, gambling, and drug use, just to name a few. The legislation of morality is so ubiquitous that most people reading this accept such laws as moral and good, and believe that people need such laws to “help” them do the right thing. In fact, the government has become the new church, providing rules to live by for people who don’t want to do the work of figuring it out for themselves, as well as providing viable punishment for nonconformity–even if that nonconformity harms no one. The extent to which this situation has gotten out of hand is evidence of just how many people prefer to let an authority figure do their thinking for them rather than determining their own personal philosophy, which was probably the greatest gift a government has ever offered its citizens.

It would be nice to think that education was the answer. But formal education does little more than teach children how to conform. I’m not sure how critical thinking has been so successfully ignored by educational institutions; I just know that it has.

Our society is largely set up, I think, to bring people to a minimal level of conformity. If we want to progress beyond that, we are largely on our own. We have to seek out books and friends and teachers who are willing to discuss topics like freedom, critical thinking, and philosophy. We have to want to know more, understand more, see more. We have to undertake this journey on our own volition. In short, we have to use our minds.

This is the only answer, I think. We cannot find a personal philosophy in any pre-packaged morality or legislation. Guidance and principles, yes. But it is only through the awareness that our minds are our greatest tool for surviving and thus thriving, and that such thriving can only happen through a sustained effort to rely on and trust our own ability to think and understand the world, that we can develop a personal philosophy, a set of principles, a moral compass, to guide us on our journey. Anything less than this is borrowed, finite, fragile knowledge that leaves our confidence weak and our soul thirsty. Our minds: this is how we find our philosophy, and thus, our confidence, our self-esteem, and our dignity.

Mankind has struggled since his very beginnings between the desire for security and the need for growth: he wants to feel safe, but he also wants to thrive, and thriving requires risk. Today, this dichotomy plays out largely as the struggle to trust that we know what’s right for ourselves versus the seductive security of believing external authorities know better. They don’t. Ever. And believing that they do is a deal with the devil that destroys the very essence of our humanity: our ability to think.

If you find that you have shame issues–if you feel unworthy, unlovable, or somehow less-than other people for reasons you can’t really identify but believe to be true–then what do you do about it? How do you move past shame for good and enter the ranks of the worthy, the lovable, and the deserving?

Actually, you are already there. Remember that shame is not an emotion, but a belief system, and a wrong one. Shame is a lie. Everybody is born lovable and deserving of good things. Everyone is born worthy. Yes, people must be held accountable for the hurts they do to other people. And yes, we all sometimes do things that we aren’t proud of. But this does not negate the fact that we are all born into this world as deserving of love and respect as everybody else on the planet. Everyone is deserving of forgiveness, as well.

So in moving past shame, the most important thing to do is to stop believing the lies you tell yourself about your unworthiness. You must, in a very real way, re-program your mind to stop believing the shameful messages you’ve internalized and have been telling yourself all your life. You must learn to think differently about yourself and your place in the world.

The best way to do this is to talk, talk, and talk some more about your shame. Shame thrives on secrecy and isolation; it is a darkness inside that must be exposed to the light. It is all of the things about ourselves we most dread other people finding out about, the things we are so afraid that make us unlovable and undeserving in the first place. Bring them into the open, and they lose all power to hurt, control, and hold you back.

Let me be as specific as I can, because the healing here is in the details: I do not mean shame in general, or shame as an intellectual concept. I mean the dirtiest, darkest secrets you harbor about yourself. You must talk about these until you are all talked out, and their power to hurt you is gone. You must talk about how you see yourself and why you think that is. You must tell stories, as many as you can remember, about what you think contributed to your shame. You must figure out your feelings, about the shame, about the stories, and about the talking itself, and you must talk about them.

Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk. Talk is the enemy of shame.

Of course, you don’t just talk to anyone and everyone. You must select the person(s) you share your shame with carefully. You must pick someone safe, someone who understands what you’re trying to do, and why, and can be an encouraging, supportive, sounding board. One of the mistakes shame-based people make in trying to work past their shame is going to the people who had a part in creating the shame: their families. This is not a good idea, even if you’ve mended relationships with people. “Shame work,” as I call it, should be done with helpful, supportive people, but people with no personal stake in your situation. In healing from shame, your best ally is often a therapist or some type of support group–people struggling with similar issues and able to hear you completely free of personal bias. Also, in addition to being free of bias, these people will have expertise in dealing with shame, and can offer sound feedback, typically much sounder than friends or family can offer.

Once you find this person or persons, then you must talk with abandon. You must share all you remember, feel, think, and wonder about. Tell stories about your past, your present, and your future. Repeat these stories as needed and without remorse. You mustn’t ever feel as though you are burdening a person with silly or pointless ideas; even if some of your thoughts go nowhere, it is still worth voicing them to find that out.

If people need a break from listening once in awhile, that’s okay, and says nothing about what you’re trying to do. Give them their break and resume when you can. Also, you must leave it up to them to let you know this, and you must not feel responsible for them…this is yet another reason therapists and support groups are so powerful in these situations: a friend will sometimes let you down, but therapists and support groups exist for the sole purpose of helping you work through these things.

You can also write things down and read them to your support person. They can be stories, poems, letters to people who hurt you (that you most likely intend never to mail), or just your thoughts, which are sometimes easier to collect when you’re alone.

There is no one right way to do this, and the only wrong way to do it is to quit doing it before you feel ready. It is easy to get frustrated, feel embarrassed, or let the shame get the upper hand and tell you that what you’re doing is “stupid” or “silly” or “unnecessary.” But if you stop talking before you’re ready, the shame wins. And shame will always keep trying to win. In fact, you will probably feel worse before you feel better. Talking about shame induces more shame. After your session is over and you’re alone, you may find yourself thinking things like, “Oh my god, how could I have said that? How could I have shared that? How could I talk about my family that way?” And you will feel awful. This is your shame, too! And you must talk about it, too; not only is it shame, it is an opportunity to observe and understand, in the present, how shame works. So what feels awful can, if understood, actually provide great insight and healing.

Shame is a secret burden, one that thrives on isolation and lack of understanding. So talk, talk, and keep talking about your shame until it feels finished, or at least finished enough. You will know when you reach this point: you will feel light, clean, and free, and you will have compassion for yourself in a way you never did before. Reading about shame and understanding where it comes from and how it works is helpful, but sharing your shame with a caring person is where the true healing happens.

Ending relationships is hard for most people. Even when you know it’s the right thing to do, or know that it’s what you want, it is still hard to walk away from the huge emotional investment that a relationship is. But when a relationship has elements of emotional distance to it, ending it can be even harder.

I think the primary reason for this has to do with why you get into the relationship in the first place, which has less to do with wanting a partner than it does with wanting to fix something that feels broken inside you. Often, you don’t figure this out until many years and much heartache later. Sometimes, you don’t figure it out until you’ve had a string of these relationships in succession, and it finally begins to dawn on you that the problem might have something to do with your own choices.

When you get into a relationship because you want to fix a brokenness, or fill a hole, or feel different about yourself, you are by default in an emotionally distant relationship. This is because you’re seeing the relationship as a way to fix yourself, which is something another person can’t do. So right away, you’ve set up a situation where you can never get what you want. The other person is little more than a prop or security blanket who is there to fill your needs. The relationship is little more than an attempt to feel loved where that feeling is lacking.

But the problem is even bigger than that. Nobody says to herself, “I want a relationship because I feel broken inside.” Instead, we’re driven by impulses that live beyond our conscious awareness, so we don’t know we feel broken; we only know that being in a relationship feels better than being alone. At least, it does for the first six months or so, after which it becomes a sort of power struggle to get what we want and a source of almost continual disappointment and agony.

Furthermore, the partner you’ve chosen probably has similar issues, or he wouldn’t be attracted to emotional distance, either. He may be needy or aloof, both of which are manifestations of emotional distance. People with similar needs tend to form attachments, each looking for ways to complete themselves in another person (or a comfortable way to avoid doing so). And anybody acting on these impulses is likely to have little self-awareness about it.

Anyway, emotionally distant relationships are difficult to end because there is a sense of unreached potential that doesn’t really occur in a relationship which has run its course and is over. This makes the feelings of loss seem tremendous and can keep people hanging on far past any usefulness the relationship might have had or satisfaction it might have given. Emotionally distant relationships often have to get to a point of causing extreme pain and misery before extrication is even considered as a viable option. And even if you do find the courage to end it but you don’t figure out what that powerful attraction is really about, you are virtually guaranteed to repeat the pattern.

The way to end these relationships permanently, then, the way to stop this pattern and find a way to become attracted to emotionally available people, is to become an emotionally available person yourself.

This is a simple statement for a rather complicated process. Becoming emotionally available means, first of all, accepting that this is your problem, that you are the emotionally unavailable person, or at least, that you are the only one you can do anything about; this can be difficult when you believe you’ve spent your whole adult life trying to find intimacy. But it’s good news, because it means you have complete control over the process of change–you don’t have to engage in one more moment of crying, yelling, manipulating, cajoling, chasing, or playing hard to get in the interest of trying to change someone else.

But that’s the barest of beginnings. You also have to figure out your patterns of unavailability and why you have them. And you have to understand your triggers and impulses and teach yourself how not to act on them. And at some point, you will want to re-evaluate your whole approach to relationships: figure out what you want, what you don’t want, what you’re willing to put up with, and most of all, what a true partnership with another person looks like to you.

These ideas deserve more space than I can give here, so I will address them in more detail in future posts.

I know everybody wants an easy fix for these problems. There are thousands of books and methods and even therapy programs out there, all making money selling quick solutions to people who want to be “coupled up.” But that desire to be coupled up is the problem, not the solution, and catering to it will result in little real change. The core issues have less to do with having a relationship than they do with becoming a more whole, more happy, more autonomous person. Much as this is not what people want to hear, the best way to find real intimacy is to stop looking for it with other people, and start looking for it with yourself. Once you develop that, the rest will happen naturally.