The truth is, I don't really get most blokes. I don't mind League but I kinda just don't get AFL or Union. Cricket is ok on the radio but I can't watch it on tv. One of my favourite movies is 'While you were sleeping'. Relationships fascinate me. I don't mind wandering about with women while they shop. There is a point at which I kinda shrug and wonder why blokes try so hard to be macho. It just doesn't interest me.
Most of the women I have been with in my life have not, in their heart, trusted me. Years ago, I swapped favourite cigarettes regularly and one girlfriend called me a tobacco slut. I got that. When I saw 'High Fidelity', and John Cusack made a different tape of 'best music' for every woman he loved, I totally got it. John and I have led parallel lives: except for the whole 'he's good looking, rich, and made good life choices' bit. Aside from that, I'm sure he'd agree, we're brothers with different mothers. Sigh. Ok, he'd wander off and ensure his security detail never let me near him again. But whatever. Whatever the girl who fascinated me smoked, I'd smoke. I tend to gravitate toward interesting women, and I often have a focus on someone new. I gave up cigarettes years ago, but somehow I still graze female fascinations.
This is a blog post about boundaries. More importantly, though, it is a prelude to a blog about mindfulness, and Jon Kabat-Zinn. He's the guru of modern psychological practice. He is the defining moment in how psychologists actually started to help people. That may be a bit harsh, but it will come to make sene as we go along. Young John rocks. That. Is. All. Except that, next time, I'll be outlining his contribution to modern psychology.
So this is also a summary of learnings from blogs gone by: let's review the issues we've covered to date. Firstly, assertiveness is the best bet for anyone in a really crucial situation. And what that, in essence, means, is this: I will think through what I think I should do next, and what you should do next is best decided by you. If I think your choice sucks, then we're both about to learn something.
The next big key learning comes from Victor Frankl: the things you do in life can only have meaning if you give them meaning. The meaning you invest in an action defines how your life unfolds. Life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you respond. And an assertive response is generally the best option.
Beond that, Fairbairn taught us that generally we look to the responses of others for confirmaton that we see us in the way we want to be seen. If they look at us in a judgemental, negative sense, we will have a tendency to demand: why are you treating me lke this? Can't you see what I have done for you? Don't you know who I am? because we want them to reflect back at us the perfect person we want to be seen as. The perfect person who, tuth be told, we know we are not.
And here is where I step into the limelight. I love a good chat with a woman, and I love to see myself reflected in that conversation as an attentive, genuine, caring male. I am all those things. Briefly. Actually, I was all those things for one woman for ten years. Longer, in truth. But the reality is, I wanted the whole world to see me as a good husband. There was a layer of my self, beneath my public self, which was not fond of my wife. And she knew it.
My next blogpost was all about Wolpe and the development of tolerance for a situation that is unpleasant. And, re-reading it, I find the whole thing ironic. That post is infused with love for a woman who accepted me, who loved me, who still loves me. She told me so just the other day. But she wasn't my wife. My wife of ten years knew I didn't like her much. There is a sense in which I don't blame her for the life choices she made: although I utterly despise her for those very same choices, 'cos I didn't make them. I stayed faithful. I had the disgusting, holier-than-thou, morally superior high ground. And just as I began to develop tolerance for her, just as I began to grow up, basically, she decided not to grow up and she junked our marriage in the kind of 'in your face', meet-you-at-the-front-door, shamelessly-flaunting-the-worst-behaviour kind of way.
It is not so very long since I sat with my ex wife, drinking coffee, discussing our elder daughter's preferred secondary school. In passing, my ex wife mentioned that she knew I hated her. I said I didn't. And in that lower, underlayer of self I rarely show anyone, I wondered: maybe I actually do hate her. And I wasn't sure. There was a way in which I had never fully confronted my dislike of her. There was a sense in which I had never developed my tolerance of her. There was a sense in which, to be brutally honest, I absolutely hated her. But really that had more to do with me.
The following blog post was about how important pain is. It stings, it guides us, it helps us to find the boundaries of what we can tolerate. Some wounds never heal: some lessons we never learn. Some pain we never learn how to tolerate. And, quite honestly, there are some boundaries we never want to extend. I never do want to learn enough to be truly tolerant of what my wife did. It would make me less human. Less of a man. And so we come back to the opening theme of this blog. What does it truly mean, to be a man?
From my perspective it is not about hitting people. Nor is it about how many goals I kicked. That'd be fair, I think, given I spent my whole football career at Full Back. But, really, I think the best of men can take a huge hit rather than dish one out. We all went to primary school. We all faced down bullies, of some sort. But the Achillies' heel that bullies go for, the part where a bully is strong, is where they make public the secret truth about ourselves which we don't want to face. Boys and girls the planet over only fall victim to bullies because they try not to face their uglier selves. Which brings us to the next blogpost.
Carl Rogers said we can't grow and change until we see ourselves as we are. That's the secret to defeating bullies; it is also the secret to growing up. Ellis and Beck offered a rational perspective on insight to ourselves. The tragedy of the psychological profession prior to them was that we needed their approach. But whatever. Mostly, clinical insight is about helping people to see what they wilfully ignore. And to date I have wilfully ignored my marriage in this blog. From every angle, that has been a defining omission.
The last three blogposts, aside from some neuropsych and night terrors, have been taken up with Ericksonian hypnosis. Hypnosis is a very dangerous topic, because it is laden with the kind of agressive implication that one person can, through some kind of trickery, impose a different psychological reality upon another. I ranted about NLP in one post for exactly that sin. And said such a result was impossible. But there are times when we accept a warped reality because we exist witin an imbalanced power relationship. That's not hyponosis or NLP though. It is just bullying.
The truth about my marriage is, that if not for me, it could have turned out very differently. I was weak, I was timid, and I was self-indulgent. If I had challenged myself to set firmer boundaries, earlier, then my marriage would have ended sooner. Because my wife was never going to brook limitations to her own selfishness, and I knew it. I compromised, in order to have some peace. I gave in, I conceded. I sold out. I thought I was buying security. And when she betrayed me, and crossed the next line in an endless succession that I had heretofore conceded, she was absolutely surprised to find I actually meant that that one was too far. Because until then I'd given in. But I was never bullied openly in my marriage. At times, I was the headstrong, demanding one. Often, perhaps. But the person who wants least to be in the relationship is the one who ultimately has the most power: they can end it. Sometimes bullying is implicit, and everyone knows it.
You may not have seen this coming, but we are back at the beginning of this blog. We're back with Victor Frankl. If we are to have any hope of overcoming the (sometimes implicit) bullying which is everyone's everyday reality. If every we are to achieve a life of contentment within the heirarchy of power which presses in on us from every angle: if ever we are to defeat the normal neurosis which besets each and every one of us, it can only be by heeding the answer to this question:
What will I respect myself most for doing next?
If we can enact the truthful answer to that question, then we will behave healthily. That question is a pathway to Bowen's differentiation. To Fairbairn's object relations. To assertiveness. To integrity. To a live of tolerating the most painful course of action that could befall us. In simple terms, it leads us to a long hard look at ourselves, and consequent action.
I have been feeling bad about disclosing my nightmares. They're real enough, but in truth I have always found them easier to talk about than a whole range of other, deeper issues.
When I came back from Boston last year, I stood at the fork of two paths. On one lay the usual process of cognitive behaviour therapy which is typical of the 2nd wave. On the other lay a consuming, undertravelled route of mindful reflection which could transform my life. I dithered. I prevaricated. I have waited, and not chosen.
My main reason for not choosing to try the lesser path was the self-knowledge that I was already weird enough. I don't like football. I talk about feelings. I am too intense for most people. I saw no reason to become even more like me. I feared what I might become. I have been bullying myself. And in fact, the truth is, I have been bullying myself for most of my own life. Nobody has any power over me but that I hand it to them. And all too often I hand power to others by the bucketload.
My next blog post begins the journey down a road less travelled. My next post starts the real encounters with the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn.
Hang onto your hats, gentle readers. We are all in for quite a ride.
Most of the women I have been with in my life have not, in their heart, trusted me. Years ago, I swapped favourite cigarettes regularly and one girlfriend called me a tobacco slut. I got that. When I saw 'High Fidelity', and John Cusack made a different tape of 'best music' for every woman he loved, I totally got it. John and I have led parallel lives: except for the whole 'he's good looking, rich, and made good life choices' bit. Aside from that, I'm sure he'd agree, we're brothers with different mothers. Sigh. Ok, he'd wander off and ensure his security detail never let me near him again. But whatever. Whatever the girl who fascinated me smoked, I'd smoke. I tend to gravitate toward interesting women, and I often have a focus on someone new. I gave up cigarettes years ago, but somehow I still graze female fascinations.
This is a blog post about boundaries. More importantly, though, it is a prelude to a blog about mindfulness, and Jon Kabat-Zinn. He's the guru of modern psychological practice. He is the defining moment in how psychologists actually started to help people. That may be a bit harsh, but it will come to make sene as we go along. Young John rocks. That. Is. All. Except that, next time, I'll be outlining his contribution to modern psychology.
So this is also a summary of learnings from blogs gone by: let's review the issues we've covered to date. Firstly, assertiveness is the best bet for anyone in a really crucial situation. And what that, in essence, means, is this: I will think through what I think I should do next, and what you should do next is best decided by you. If I think your choice sucks, then we're both about to learn something.
The next big key learning comes from Victor Frankl: the things you do in life can only have meaning if you give them meaning. The meaning you invest in an action defines how your life unfolds. Life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you respond. And an assertive response is generally the best option.
Beond that, Fairbairn taught us that generally we look to the responses of others for confirmaton that we see us in the way we want to be seen. If they look at us in a judgemental, negative sense, we will have a tendency to demand: why are you treating me lke this? Can't you see what I have done for you? Don't you know who I am? because we want them to reflect back at us the perfect person we want to be seen as. The perfect person who, tuth be told, we know we are not.
And here is where I step into the limelight. I love a good chat with a woman, and I love to see myself reflected in that conversation as an attentive, genuine, caring male. I am all those things. Briefly. Actually, I was all those things for one woman for ten years. Longer, in truth. But the reality is, I wanted the whole world to see me as a good husband. There was a layer of my self, beneath my public self, which was not fond of my wife. And she knew it.
My next blogpost was all about Wolpe and the development of tolerance for a situation that is unpleasant. And, re-reading it, I find the whole thing ironic. That post is infused with love for a woman who accepted me, who loved me, who still loves me. She told me so just the other day. But she wasn't my wife. My wife of ten years knew I didn't like her much. There is a sense in which I don't blame her for the life choices she made: although I utterly despise her for those very same choices, 'cos I didn't make them. I stayed faithful. I had the disgusting, holier-than-thou, morally superior high ground. And just as I began to develop tolerance for her, just as I began to grow up, basically, she decided not to grow up and she junked our marriage in the kind of 'in your face', meet-you-at-the-front-door, shamelessly-flaunting-the-worst-behaviour kind of way.
It is not so very long since I sat with my ex wife, drinking coffee, discussing our elder daughter's preferred secondary school. In passing, my ex wife mentioned that she knew I hated her. I said I didn't. And in that lower, underlayer of self I rarely show anyone, I wondered: maybe I actually do hate her. And I wasn't sure. There was a way in which I had never fully confronted my dislike of her. There was a sense in which I had never developed my tolerance of her. There was a sense in which, to be brutally honest, I absolutely hated her. But really that had more to do with me.
The following blog post was about how important pain is. It stings, it guides us, it helps us to find the boundaries of what we can tolerate. Some wounds never heal: some lessons we never learn. Some pain we never learn how to tolerate. And, quite honestly, there are some boundaries we never want to extend. I never do want to learn enough to be truly tolerant of what my wife did. It would make me less human. Less of a man. And so we come back to the opening theme of this blog. What does it truly mean, to be a man?
From my perspective it is not about hitting people. Nor is it about how many goals I kicked. That'd be fair, I think, given I spent my whole football career at Full Back. But, really, I think the best of men can take a huge hit rather than dish one out. We all went to primary school. We all faced down bullies, of some sort. But the Achillies' heel that bullies go for, the part where a bully is strong, is where they make public the secret truth about ourselves which we don't want to face. Boys and girls the planet over only fall victim to bullies because they try not to face their uglier selves. Which brings us to the next blogpost.
Carl Rogers said we can't grow and change until we see ourselves as we are. That's the secret to defeating bullies; it is also the secret to growing up. Ellis and Beck offered a rational perspective on insight to ourselves. The tragedy of the psychological profession prior to them was that we needed their approach. But whatever. Mostly, clinical insight is about helping people to see what they wilfully ignore. And to date I have wilfully ignored my marriage in this blog. From every angle, that has been a defining omission.
The last three blogposts, aside from some neuropsych and night terrors, have been taken up with Ericksonian hypnosis. Hypnosis is a very dangerous topic, because it is laden with the kind of agressive implication that one person can, through some kind of trickery, impose a different psychological reality upon another. I ranted about NLP in one post for exactly that sin. And said such a result was impossible. But there are times when we accept a warped reality because we exist witin an imbalanced power relationship. That's not hyponosis or NLP though. It is just bullying.
The truth about my marriage is, that if not for me, it could have turned out very differently. I was weak, I was timid, and I was self-indulgent. If I had challenged myself to set firmer boundaries, earlier, then my marriage would have ended sooner. Because my wife was never going to brook limitations to her own selfishness, and I knew it. I compromised, in order to have some peace. I gave in, I conceded. I sold out. I thought I was buying security. And when she betrayed me, and crossed the next line in an endless succession that I had heretofore conceded, she was absolutely surprised to find I actually meant that that one was too far. Because until then I'd given in. But I was never bullied openly in my marriage. At times, I was the headstrong, demanding one. Often, perhaps. But the person who wants least to be in the relationship is the one who ultimately has the most power: they can end it. Sometimes bullying is implicit, and everyone knows it.
You may not have seen this coming, but we are back at the beginning of this blog. We're back with Victor Frankl. If we are to have any hope of overcoming the (sometimes implicit) bullying which is everyone's everyday reality. If every we are to achieve a life of contentment within the heirarchy of power which presses in on us from every angle: if ever we are to defeat the normal neurosis which besets each and every one of us, it can only be by heeding the answer to this question:
What will I respect myself most for doing next?
If we can enact the truthful answer to that question, then we will behave healthily. That question is a pathway to Bowen's differentiation. To Fairbairn's object relations. To assertiveness. To integrity. To a live of tolerating the most painful course of action that could befall us. In simple terms, it leads us to a long hard look at ourselves, and consequent action.
I have been feeling bad about disclosing my nightmares. They're real enough, but in truth I have always found them easier to talk about than a whole range of other, deeper issues.
When I came back from Boston last year, I stood at the fork of two paths. On one lay the usual process of cognitive behaviour therapy which is typical of the 2nd wave. On the other lay a consuming, undertravelled route of mindful reflection which could transform my life. I dithered. I prevaricated. I have waited, and not chosen.
My main reason for not choosing to try the lesser path was the self-knowledge that I was already weird enough. I don't like football. I talk about feelings. I am too intense for most people. I saw no reason to become even more like me. I feared what I might become. I have been bullying myself. And in fact, the truth is, I have been bullying myself for most of my own life. Nobody has any power over me but that I hand it to them. And all too often I hand power to others by the bucketload.
My next blog post begins the journey down a road less travelled. My next post starts the real encounters with the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn.
Hang onto your hats, gentle readers. We are all in for quite a ride.
A ride well worth going on, I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteQuestion: The statement "What will I respect myself most for doing next?" must require a fair bit of analysis on it's own, right? An unthinking response, where we follow the path we think we are honour bound to follow, could lead to disaster. Perhaps "What will I respect myself most for doing next: change or no change?" at least forces us to consider the alternative.
Love your work Tiger. I like league, but thinkins wot I likes.