Archive for January, 2012
How to Really Help People: Know Thyself
How do we give the most help to other people?
Maybe the first things that come to mind are giving money to charity organizations, volunteering time to help the poor, sick, or elderly, or sharing knowledge and expertise with people who would benefit from it. Certainly, these are all helpful acts, bound to help people and alleviate some suffering, at least temporarily.
I have a friend who struggled with this question for many years. He really enjoys helping other people, and has a lot of expertise in two areas that people are interested in: computers and business. He is forever being asked for advice on these subjects, and has taught many people how to use and fix their computers, and many others how to find jobs and even launch careers. He is a kind, thoughtful person, someone I have never seen unwilling to put aside whatever he’s doing to help someone in need.
He had become disillusioned with helping people, though. He is also an introspective person, and the more he came to know about himself and about human nature, the sadder he became when people came to him for help about things that wouldn’t really make them happier. The vast majority of them, he saw, wanted quick answers and easy fixes; they weren’t interested in fixing themselves so much as in fixing their problems. Which meant, he realized, that they probably never would fix themselves–that without understanding the connection between one’s internal struggles and their manifestations, lasting or positive change was unlikely to occur.
He continued to help people, but he did so without zeal. He also continued his introspective work, which eventually led him to Eastern philosophy. One day, the Lama Everest (quoted above) was in town giving some lectures, and he went to see her. After the lecture, he approached her and asked her about his problem. “I feel sad when I help people fix problems that aren’t the problem they should be worried about,” he said. “Should I continue to help people with these problems, even though I know such help isn’t really going to make them any happier?”
Lama Everest took a great deal of time and consideration in answering him, and that answer has always meant a great deal to him, and to me (after he shared it with me). I will paraphrase it here.
It is true, she told him, that few people ask for the help that will really matter in their lives. And it is also true that, if you are aware enough to notice this, that you will feel sad when helping people with things that aren’t really going to be of much help to them. Nevertheless, you should continue to help people when they come to you for help.
There are many reasons for this. One is that it is an act of kindness to help those who ask you for help, and it is important to treat everyone with as much kindness as you can. Another is that helping people alleviates some suffering, if only for a little while, and being able to do this is a supreme act of brotherly love. And yet another is that helping people get what they think they want will bring them closer to realizing it isn’t what they really want: The fool who persists in his folly will become wise (William Blake).
But the main reason you should continue to help people, said Lama Everest, is that in helping others, you become more whole. And becoming a whole person is the only way to truly help others.
I spent a long time thinking about what the Lama meant by this, and here’s what I came up with. First of all, by “becoming a whole person,” the Lama meant coming to know one’s self through a process of introspective self-examination. By engaging in such a process, a person comes to understand his or her true nature, the nature that transcends–but includes–the ego. If we have this understanding, then we can see beyond what a person asks for to what is really going on inside him. If we do not have this understanding, then we will forever be moving around the surface and missing the deeper, underlying structures that determine who and what we are–which, of course, limits the amount of useful help we are able to give.
If you are not an advocate of Tibetan Buddhism or the idea of a self-identity that lies beyond the ego, then this may all sound silly or even arrogant to you. But it’s fairly easy to see in non-Buddhist terms, too. Simply put, the better we understand human nature, the greater our capacity to help people. And the most powerful window, by far, that we have into human nature is ourselves. Thus, the better we understand ourselves, the better we will understand other people, and the greater our capacity will be to help them.
Often, it is true that what people think they want is not what they really want, or at least, not what will make them happy. People mistake the outcome for the effort all the time. They think, for example, that money will make them happy, when money is only the result of productive work, which is the true satisfaction. Or they think romance will make them happy, when it is really the work of forming a true partnership with another person that gives satisfaction. When we understand these things, and act out of understanding, compassion, and tolerance for people’s ignorance about them, help takes on a deeper purpose. Deeper for us, because we understand what’s happening and why, and deeper for them, too, because meeting people where they’re at yet knowing they have so much more potential is the height of tolerance and respect. And this is true even if they aren’t quite aware of it.
Every act of kindness or help, no matter how simple, is a transformative opportunity for all involved. The better we understand that, the more whole we become–and the more whole we become, the better we understand that. It is only through introspection that we come to know ourselves, and it is only by knowing ourselves that we can know other people. If we want to truly be of help to people, this is the best place to start.
And thank you, Lama Everest, for this wonderful insight.
When In Doubt, Exercise!
“Have you exercised today?”
“No,” I replied.
“Why don’t you go for a walk or something then and see how you feel?”
That was it. Her only advice was to get some exercise. And you know what? She was absolutely right.
Most everybody knows that exercise is not only good for you physically but also good for you mentally and emotionally. Exercising stimulates the “feel-good” brain chemicals endorphins that improve your mood and general sense of well-being. It also helps de-fog your mind so you can think more clearly. I’m not sure how this works, but it does; it could be as simple as changing your perspective, or maybe it’s the flow of endorphins, or maybe it’s both. This is one of those times when it isn’t important to know why something works, just that it does: when you’re feeling blue for no particular reason, a little bit of exercise can snap you out of it.
If you’re at work, or otherwise unable to get in a small workout, even stretching or doing isometrics at your station can improve your mood. The smallest bit of physical activity is better than none. So when you think of it, don’t procrastinate. Do something immediately, however small, and you will feel better. And of course, this doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t do something more substantial when you have the time. You should, and both your body and your mind will thank you for it.
Even though most of us know the physical and mental benefits of exercise, like many healthy habits, it’s always good to have a reminder. Sometimes we get so caught up in our negativity that we can’t see a way out, as simple as it sometimes is, without a gentle reminder. So here it is: when in doubt, exercise. Just do it!
Personal Growth is Infinite
Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.–Viktor Frankl
We don’t often think about it, but our most human characteristics really have no known boundaries. No known limit exists for how much knowledge the brain can absorb. No known limit exists for how many people we can love. No known limit exists for our capacity to become wiser, more loving, more spiritual, more understanding, more positive, more supportive, wiser, braver or kinder. Like the Universe itself, the reaches of man’s inner potential appear to be infinite.
There is no end point, no point at which we say, “That’s it. I’ve learned enough, grown enough, developed myself enough. I’m done now.” It is not even possible, because every day that we get up and interact with the world, something new happens, and it changes us, whether we are actively seeking change or not. The only way to be done with change is to die.
I suppose what I’m talking about is the nature of consciousness itself. And like the Universe, which seems to have no beginning and no end–you may say the Big Bang or God was its beginning, but where did It/He come from? What was here before It/Him? Whether you think there was something or there was nothing, such pondering boggles the mind–consciousness seems to have no beginning or end. You could say the beginning and end are birth and death, and while that is technically true, it does not explain how consciousness works, where it comes from, or why, while we have it, its scope appears to be infinite. Consciousness is truly greater than the sum of its physical parts, and nobody, if they’re being honest, can tell you why or how this is the case. It is as great a mystery as the origin of the Universe itself.
The scientific determinists believe that consciousness is completely reducible to its parts. It is, they believe, merely the interaction of chemicals in the brain and the causal chain of events in a person’s life. I think this infinity-of-consciousness idea is a decent anti-determinist argument. If consciousness were merely the result of physically observable interactions, then that would imply that limits exist (because all physically observable and categorizable phenomena have limits). Determinists would probably say that such limits do exist, even if they haven’t yet been discovered (which is similar to the argument for determinism itself). Maybe so. But until such limits are discovered, the theory is about as scientific as an argument for the existence of a theological God. (That is to say, not scientific at all.)
The only reason I mention this is that all attempts to put limits on human consciousness have failed, and thus they should be regarded very, very skeptically. Not only because such arguments are unprovable, which they are, but more importantly because such beliefs create limitations in our own minds–when none really exist. And if we are actively seeking growth and change, any thought of limitation is a grave hindrance.
This is not to say that consciousness is magical or infallible–let’s get this objection out of the way first. For example, consciousness can’t make us fly or read minds, it can’t teleport us to other worlds, or make us live eternally (although some might argue even with these extremes). I am only purporting that, within its realm–man’s inner realm, the world of concepts, beliefs, emotions, and spirituality–consciousness appears to be infinite. Within its realm, consciousness is, well, omnipotent. A manifestation, perhaps, of God Him (or It-) self.
It is also not to say that all people possess equal capacities for growth–which is start of the point I’ve been leading up to. We are all different. We all start at square one (birth), and we all have unique abilities and unique life experiences. Some of those experiences enhance our unique abilities, and some detract from it. Some of us are treated so horribly, we spend most of our adulthood trying to soothe, heal, and fix our consciousness. Some of us go far; some of us barely get out of the starting gate. Thus is the nature of life: it cares little for fairness or equality. We all have to accept the cards we’ve been dealt, and lamenting that fact does nothing but detract from the potential we do have.
In fact, such lamenting might possibly be the primary thing standing in the way of growth and change. While the start we get in life certainly plays a role in how far we go, it probably has a smaller role than many of us believe (perhaps another anti-determinist argument, if anyone is keeping track). Many who get rough starts triumph over them, while many who have every advantage squander them away. This is not always true; those born into poverty in third world countries are not likely to do great things with their lives–although some certainly have.
I don’t want to say that luck of the draw isn’t important. It is. Handicaps of circumstance can destroy much potential. But we can’t really blame this on the limitations of consciousness. And those of us fortunate to live in circumstances that we can change are better off getting down to the business of doing so rather than complaining about those we’re powerless over.
And here’s the fact that, once accepted, can truly transform us: we are all fortunate enough to live in circumstances that we can change. We all have enough control over our lives to positively transform ourselves. Consciousness itself makes this possible. Its infinite scope makes all situations transformable, all obstacles defeatable. Truly, where there’s life, there’s hope.
Perhaps the greatest advocate of this idea was Viktor Frankl. Dr. Frankl not only survived his experience in a Nazi concentration camp, he found in it great wisdom, meaning, and even serenity. In the midst of the everyday life horrors in the camp, Dr. Frankl had a great realization: that no matter what one’s life circumstances are, a person is still capable, through the efforts of his own consciousness, to find meaning and happiness. They could starve him, torture him, and humiliate him, but they couldn’t take his mind–his consciousness–away from him. It was his, and what he did with it was up to him. He wrote about this profound realization in the great book Mans Search for Meaning
Our life circumstances matter, and they influence who we are and what we become, but they do not have the final say. Consciousness is too powerful a force for that to be the case. No matter where we start or what our circumstances, we are all capable of infinite growth and change. Focusing on this simple truth, rather than on limitations, has the potential to transform our lives in ways we can’t possibly imagine.
If They Aren’t Consistent, They Aren’t Values
Wikipedia defines values as “broad preferences concerning appropriate courses of action or outcomes.” This can apply to both individuals and cultures. It defines individual (personal) values as “an internal reference for what is good, beneficial, important, useful, beautiful, desirable, constructive, etc…Values generate behavior and help solve common human problems for survival by comparative rankings, the results of which provide answers to questions of why people do what they do and in what order they choose to do them.” Cultural values are those largely shared by a culture’s members, often identifiable by “noting which people receive honor and respect.”
In short, values help individuals and cultures (which are really just groups of individuals who share a similar background) determine what’s important and why, which in turn determines actions. Whether aware of them or not, values–both those foisted on us (cultural) and those we choose (personal)–underlie all of our thoughts, habits, opinions, and behaviors. Values are, in essence, the building blocks of all the choices we make in life.
It follows, then, that the more carefully we choose our values, the better our choices will be. Better choices will inevitably result in a better life, “better” in this case meaning more likely to achieve the outcomes that are the most important to us–those outcomes with the most value, that is.
I think this is all fairly well understood by most people: Values, consciously chosen and deliberately acted upon, are integral to a life well-lived. But what about applying those values consistently, in all areas of life, across all situations?
This is a little trickier. Yet, I believe, just as important, because without the capacity to apply one’s values consistently, it is questionable how well understood or deeply held a value really is–or if it is, in fact, really a value at all.
What really got me thinking about this is listening to people’s political opinions. Without getting into political beliefs, which aren’t the point, I’ve noticed that many people, including “expert” pundits and even politicians themselves, hold wildly inconsistent political values. As an example, let’s take individual freedom. Most Americans would agree that individual freedom is an important cultural value: that people should be free to live as they choose as long as they don’t infringe upon other people’s right to do the same. This value is so important, it is the primary founding principle of the country, guaranteed in writing in our Constitution, and the basis from which all other American freedoms and rights are derived, including freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to assemble, freedom to own private property, the right to vote, the right to a fair trial, the right to bear arms, and so many others.
Americans may differ on which of these guaranteed rights and freedoms are the most important, but few would argue that our freedom is absolutely essential to the American way of life, to “the pursuit of happiness.” Yet almost everywhere you turn, you hear people stating opinions that are completely antithetical to the idea of personal freedom. The classic example of this (for me, anyway) are drug laws. Today, the idea of “legal” and “illegal” drugs is so commonplace and accepted, few people question the morality of why possession of certain drugs risks imprisonment. Yet before the late 19th century, the idea of an illegal substance was unheard of. All drugs were legally obtainable because people were considered capable of being stewards of their own bodies–further, we are Constitutionally guaranteed the right to be. How and why this changed is a fascinating study in how politicians usurped the rights of American citizens, and how it paved the way for the gradual, continuous erosion of personal freedom now so ubiquitous that most no longer notice it for what it is.
If you ask people what they think about “illegal” drugs, most will say something like “Well, maybe marijuana should be legal, but drugs like heroin and cocaine should be illegal.” They will base this opinion on the fact that these drugs are “dangerous” and that keeping them illegal saves lives. This is absolutely not true, of course; it’s actually easier to obtain illegal drugs than legal (prescription) ones, particularly for minors; the “war on drugs,” after spending hundreds of billions of dollars, has done next to nothing to stop the flow of narcotics into the country, much less squelch people’s desire to use them. But the larger point is that such a view, held by the majority of Americans, is in direct opposition to the value of individual freedom.
There are many other examples of this. People who claim to value freedom of speech oppose pornography. People who claim to value the pursuit of happiness oppose gay marriage. People who claim to value freedom of religion want Muslim mosques restricted. People who claim to value civil liberties support the Patriot Act. And on and on. Inconsistency, and yes, hypocrisy, in political values is so widespread and normal now that it is barely recognized anymore as such.
People often lay claim to values until those values clash with an opinion they hold, then chuck them out the window like a piece of trash. But if you only hold a value until it applies to someone or something you don’t like, then it isn’t really a value at all. It’s just a convenient opinion not tied to any deeper meaning, and a poorly understood one, at that. Because often, the test of our principles is how well we’re able to uphold them when applied to aspects which we find distasteful. We may hate pornography, for example, but if we don’t understand that it is protected by our right to free speech, then we aren’t really standing against pornography but rather, against the principle of free speech.
This idea is equally important in our personal lives because our values determine our actions and ultimately the outcome of our lives. What we value makes us who we are. If those values are well thought out and consistent, we’ll have conviction in applying them, confidence in their rightness, and a clear path to achieving our goals; we will also be credible, dependable, principled people whom others respect and trust. Conversely, without consistent values, we’ll have or be none of these things. Our beliefs and actions will shift with the prevailing winds and we’ll mimic popular opinion, guessing at what’s right and at what we want. Inconsistent values are not values at all.
Living a principled life means understanding your values to the point that you can apply them consistently and universally. If you come up against an idea that seems to clash with your values, it is not the idea you must question or dismiss, but rather, the value itself. If you don’t learn to do this, the result will be an illogical, conflicted worldview that lacks grounding in any deeper principles and has little power to propel you successfully forward. Just because this is the norm today doesn’t make it right, and certainly not a desirable way to go through life.
Stop Complaining!
The other day I overheard part of a conversation that stopped me cold and made me see an un-pretty trait in myself. (I wasn’t eavesdropping; the discussion had nothing to do with me. But I was also unable to avoid hearing what I heard.) One of the men was doing most of the talking, the other most of the listening. The listener would ask a question, and the talker would go off on a long tangent that even I, in my limited knowledge of the subject matter, could tell was not a useful answer. The listener seemed to be trying to solve a problem or set a strategy for some business issue, while the talker seemed bound and determined to avoid solving the problem or setting a strategy. He did so in a number of ways. He changed the subject; he told a joke or story; he compared the situation to one in the past; he agreed that it was a good question but failed to elaborate with an answer. Mostly, he blamed circumstances and other people for his situation.
Nothing was his fault. If he looked bad, it was because somebody else was unavailable, or incompetent, or uninterested, or unwilling to do their job. He painted himself as the masterful genius who was constantly being let down by those less talented people he had no choice but to depend on. The more the listener tried to re-direct the talker to the problem at hand, the further away they seemed to get from finding a solution. Finally, the listener begged off, saying he’d see what he could do to help. Even though he showed no sign of frustration, it was apparent to me he’d given up. He couldn’t get through to this guy.
Maybe it was the contrast in the two men’s styles, but something about the conversation struck me hard. The listener was totally focused on solving a problem, on accomplishing something useful with the conversation. The talker was focused on making himself look good. The listener saw himself as a responsible agent. The talker saw himself as a victim. The incongruity was jarring.
In the quiet following the conversation, the message “Stop complaining!” flashed in my head like a neon sign. I’d like to say I identified with the listener, but the truth is that I identified with the talker just as much. I do believe that people are responsible for solving their own problems, and I’d like to think I do this to the best of my ability. But in the complainer I also heard myself. Oh my god, I thought, I do that. I do that! And I realized that, even though I do take responsibility for my actions, I often take the long way around to it, after a fair amount of whining, bitching, balking, irrititation, and, yes, complaining.
I never thought of myself as a complainer, but of course, I am. How could I not be, when I grew up with two of the most negative, mean-spirited, judgmental, shaming examples a child could have? I remember once as a teenager my boyfriend told me, after picking me up for a date, that my parents talked worse about people than anyone else he’s ever known. I’m not blaming my parents for my unattractive trait; I know it’s mine to deal with. But having grown up with complaining being so second nature, so much a backdrop in my life, I see now that it would be a difficult thing to see in myself. The good news is that I have seen it in a way I never had before, so I now have the self-awareness to do something about it. The bad news is that these lessons never, ever stop coming. But that’s not really so bad; I would rather know than not know, because this is the only way I become capable of change.
And sometimes, complaining is actually the agent of change. Sometimes, we need to “complain.” If viewed objectively, with kindness and understanding toward yourself, complaining can be the beginning of greater self-awareness. When we complain, it’s because we feel powerless and frustrated. Complaints could well be manifestations of underlying issues that need to be dealt with. Such complaints, when voiced and paid attention to, can lead us to solutions. It is only when complaining becomes chronic, lacking the desire for a solution, or about pointless, minor things that really have no relevance, that it is problematic–and decidedly unattractive. So while freeing myself of the need to complain is a positive goal, it’s also helpful to be aware that sometimes, complaining means I need to address some deeper source of frustration in my life.
That guy will never know what he did for me. Seeing myself in him was unnerving, but I’m so glad I did. I would like to remove chronic complaining from my repertoire entirely. It serves no purpose except to keep me in a negative state of mind and divert me from solving whatever problem I don’t want to deal with. I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, but keeping negative thoughts to myself and letting them die the quiet, unattended death they deserve is certainly a goal worthy of daily renewal.
So thanks for that, stranger!
The Importance of Reading Books
When I was thirteen, I got to spend a month on a horse farm with a couple of other girls working for a woman in exchange for riding lessons and the chance to soak up as much of her equine knowledge as I possibly could. At the time, I was having a passionate love affair with all things horse, so this was a dream come true. She was a careful and deliberate teacher, and she started by quizzing us on how much we knew. I found myself having to hold back from answering to give the other girls a chance. But when I didn’t answer, there tended to be dead silence, with all eyes shifting toward me. After a couple of days of this, the teacher, a bit exasperated, said, “The difference between you two and Kitty is that Kitty reads.” I was embarrassed, but she was right, of course. I was a voracious reader, saving up my pennies and birthday checks to buy books about horses. And not just stories–although I read those, too–but informative, how-to books. Books not only about riding, but also about equine health, tack (saddles and bridles), world breeds, history, and anything else I could find. By the time I was thirteen, I’d already amassed quite a collection of books and had read them all cover to cover, some several times over. I still own most of that collection today.
The other girls loved horses as much as I did, but they didn’t share my love of reading. And because of that, I was several steps ahead of them, horse-knowledge-wise. Having grown up the way I did, at the time I found this to be a source of shame (anything that set me apart was a source of shame), but I now see it as a trait that has served me well all my life and will continue to do so. When I got sober and began recovering from my invalidating childhood and all the issues I have because of it, I once again read voraciously. Self-help books get a bad rap, and certainly some of them are better than others, but I was hungry for understanding and self-awareness, and reading was one way I immersed myself in the healing process. I read about addiction and recovery, shame, anger, codependency, the inner child, toxic relationships, spirituality, and the treatment process itself. From Dale Carnegie to the Dalai Lama, I read nearly every type of book on self-awareness that I could find. I also read psychology and philosophy books (which I still read today). And as with horses when I was a kid, I found myself (somewhat embarrassingly) light years ahead of friends who’d entered recovery around the same time as I had.
Reading is, of course, a great source of knowledge, and reading books about topics you love is one of the greatest intellectual services you can do for yourself. I specify books here because there is a great tendency, in today’s world of electronic media at our fingertips, to read infobytes on news sites and opinions on blogs and think we’re educating ourselves. When done in a vacuum, though, nothing could be further from the truth–and few things bring us further away from true knowledge than the mistaken idea that we already have it.
Certainly, there is a wealth of good information on the Internet. I use the Internet all the time for research and learning. But I am careful about what facts I choose to accept–particularly when those facts are someone’s opinion, and even more particularly when those opinions are ones I am predisposed to agree–or disagree–with. I always cross-reference information with other sites, check dates, read comments, and if possible, investigate the author’s authority, either by finding neutral bios about him, reading other things he’s written, or both.
But if reading on the Internet is they only kind of reading we’re doing, or even much of the kind of reading we’re doing, we run up against a number of problems, problems that are going to prevent us from being really rational, really capable critical thinkers. To start with, the Internet lacks credibility. Most of the bloggers on the Internet are sharing opinions, largely uninformed, and many of the informational websites have larger agendas (a political, social, or religious bias, for example). The Internet may be the first truly egalitarian platform ever created, and this is in many ways a good thing. But with the level playing field resulting from that egalitarianism comes built-in problems. It gives everybody the opportunity to share their thoughts, regardless of validity or merit. When you first find a website, there is no way to know whether its author(s) are knowledgeable or ignorant except by reading its content and deciding for yourself (in a process like the one I described above). And since few people are experts but all people have opinions, it is far more likely, in an egalitarian scenario, that you are going to find an ignorant opinion rather than a knowledgeable assessment; this is simply the math of the Internet.
Compounding the problems of the egalitarian platform is the fact that the ignorant and opinionated tend to find each other and use each other to reinforce their beliefs, often in ways that sound authoritative and convincing. Google “astral projection” or “law of attraction” to see what I mean. You will get a Wikipedia entry, a handful of debunkers, and thousands of sites claiming knowledge and expertise. And most of this pseudo-science junk is presented with chilling conviction.
So not only is it difficult to find good, neutral information on the Internet, but after a steady diet of Internet reading, it can also become difficult to tell the difference between good information and garbage. Egalitarianism is a positive in many situations, but if you are truly seeking to learn, it can make for some rough going; and even though we might say we know that what we read on the Internet may lack credibility, if it is the bulk of what we read, it is still the bulk of what forms our thoughts, beliefs, and opinions.
The biggest problem, however, with getting most of your information from the Internet and other sources which tend to lack depth and expertise–such as television reporting and, to a somewhat lesser degree, newspapers and most news magazines–is that they provide no larger context to classify the information. If you don’t possess some background knowledge about political systems, economics, and history, for example, how are you going to interpret a blog post about, say, the upcoming presidential election? How are you going to discern different political agendas by different writers? How are you going to know if what you’re reading is factually accurate? How are you going to understand and categorize the writer’s assertions? How are you going to form your opinions?
It is alarming to me how many people–and not strangers or people in a general sense, but people I know personally–form their opinions around what they “like” and around what “feels good” to them or what “sounds like it makes the most sense.” These opinions are formed in a vacuum, without drawing on a deeper pool of knowledge, and are usually made with little effort to connect them to each other, much less to a bigger picture. Many people, for example, would be astonished to learn that there are long-standing historical, sociological, philosophical, and of course medical contexts around which the debate about socialized health care can–and should–be framed; fewer still would be interested in making an effort to understand the complex relationships among these disciplines before forming an opinion about the right and wrong of them. The result is a head full of disjointed, disconnected factoids that form a fragmented worldview rather than contribute to a cohesive understanding. Few want to be bothered with the work of forming such understanding. They’re content with their opinions and beliefs being reinforced by others in closed loops with similar fragile thought structures. And we’re back where we started.
Facts do fit together. There are patterns and similarities and redundancies all over the planet which, when looked at from a consistent contextual framework, make far more sense than they do when seen as separate events. Possessing underlying knowledge not only creates a world that makes more sense (even if that sense is not pleasing to behold, as it frequently is not), it also arms us with a sort of shorthand with which we can categorize the infobytes and opinions we come across every day. Having historical and philosophical understanding of the world you live in–or at least a few small pieces of it that interest you most–requires some initial effort, absolutely. But in the long run, it offers the quickest and most accurate way to assess and categorize these myriad, often confusing factoids. Conversely, without such understanding we have no way to assess and categorize. Enter our likes, dislikes, and feelings.
In short, knowledge is power. And the knowledge I am talking about can only be gotten by in-depth study of a topic, an effort to learn and think and classify and understand–which, by doing, makes you better at learning, thinking, classifying, and understanding. The ability to do this in one area of study translates to all areas, and no such efforts are ever without value. Undertaking the study of horses when I was a kid foreshadowed my ability to undertake the study of self-improvement as a young adult; both of these, as well as every other study I have undertaken in my life, has made me a better student, a better conversationalist, a better employee, a better citizen, and an all-around more confident person. I don’t have to be right about everything; I just have to be open-minded, willing to learn–and able to tell the difference between my knowledge and my emotions.
Learning is a way of life we must choose. Much like physical fitness, mental fitness requires commitment and effort. And much like physical fitness, it’s easy to let ourselves slide into complacency. But unlike the obvious results of being physically fit, mental fitness is trickier. It’s easy to fool ourselves into thinking we know something about a topic when we really know very little. If you find yourself having strong opinions, yet haven’t done any in-depth study on a topic, you might want to think twice before opening your mouth; chances are you’re just exercising your egalitarian rights to speak your thoughts, however incomplete they might be.
Consumerism and Spirituality
As we who live in mostly free, mostly Christian countries come up for air after the season that drowns us in materialistic excess, it seems a fitting time to consider the greatly misunderstood, positive connection between consumerism and spirituality.Hold the phone–am I saying there’s a link between materialistic “greed” and spirituality? Other than that they are opposite ends of the spectrum of human desire? Well, yes, I believe there is. Furthermore, I believe that pondering this relationship is a useful exercise, because denying or ignoring it can leave us confused about two very basic, very important human pursuits: spirituality (that is, becoming a more whole person), and “worldly” success, which everybody has an innate drive toward (however he may happen to define it).
This idea is nothing new. Robert Pirsig wrote an entire book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
I have always liked beautiful things. I love the sheen of expensive fabric and how it drapes luxuriously; I love the heft and solidity of a well-made object (such as an iPhone); I love the styling and tight feel of German cars; I love supple leather and well-designed tools and houses with open spaces and natural light and lots of granite, wood, and brick. I can’t afford all of these things, but I love them. Or perhaps more accurately, I recognize their quality as somehow soothing to my soul.
I used to worry about my affinity for nice things. I knew a few of my friends raised their eyebrows when I bought a used BMW instead of a new Toyota for the same price (but they hadn’t driven it!). I knew some people thought I was too “materialistic” when I spent some of the money from selling my house on a hand-made gold watch (but, oh, how cool!). I knew not everybody was wiling to buy Apple products when Microsoft produced similar ones at half the price (or less). Am I a snob, I asked myself? Do I care too much about what other people think of me? A friend once told me she thought I was trying to “buy my self-esteem.” Was she right? Certainly, people in my working class neighborhood looked a bit askew at me when I came home in my shiny German car.
No, I decided, after much deliberation. She was wrong. I was not a snob, and I was not trying to buy self-esteem through material possessions. I just appreciated beautiful things more than most people I knew. More to the point, I realized the significance of surrounding yourself with as much beauty and quality as you can, every day, whenever possible. There is a joy in using well made tools, in wearing well made clothes, in the choice to own quality objects when it is so easy to own cheap, poorly-made, badly designed shit. I would rather own one quality object than 100 cheap ones, no matter what other people might think of me.
Many people get this exactly backward. I know sooo many people whose houses are full to the brim with cheap plastic crap. It’s easy to do, since we are inundated and saturated with advertisements for cheap plastic crap. Consumerism has become a dirty word, synonymous with Wal-Mart, Costco, Best Buy, and Ikea, all of whom offer great deals on household goods, but offer very, very little in the way of quality. Capitalism has created the freest, richest economy ever in existence, an economy where even people of average income can own quality objects. But instead of buying beauty and quality, most people buy cheap plastic crap. In fact, the idea of quality and beauty in everyday objects seems to be a rarely considered factor in purchasing decisions these days. In our “throw-away society,” this type of consumerism really does deserve the title of “greed”: owning for the sake of owning, without any deeper connection to ourselves or to the meaning we are all seeking (whether aware of it or not). This widely accepted buying mentality appeals to our baser desires and completely misses the possibilities that owning things has to offer. Nobody should feel bad about wanting to have nice things; it’s part of being human. But we should make an effort to understand how our natural attraction to beauty and quality differs from greed, and try to know which impulse we are acting on.
I don’t have a problem with thriftiness. People should buy what they can afford. But I think it’s sad that people will rarely even consider owning fewer things in order to own more beautiful ones. I think in ignoring this, the most important option a wealthy economy has to offer, people are, in a very real way, ignoring a significant aspect of their own humanity: their built-in, inherent recognition of beauty and quality, a recognition which, when exercised, elevates us to new ways of being, seeing and interacting with the world.
Consumerism, like everything else in life, is yet another path to spiritual wholeness (or just wholeness, if you prefer). Objects do have some power to elevate or deflate us, even to spark recognition of the divine in everyday life (however you care to define that). In fact, I believe this is the very purpose of art–to create a pause that shifts our perspective to greater, higher, more satisfying, more all-inclusive ways of seeing. If you’ve ever been inside a great cathedral or seen great art in person, you know the sense of awe these things call forth. But let us remember that we don’t have to go to a church or a museum to have this experience. We can all own at least a few beautiful things that are a constant and joyous reminder of what’s really important, what we really want, and who, at our deepest levels, we really are.