Taking Care of People

The drama in Thailand with the rescue of 13 boys from a flooded cave is a stark lesson for us as world citizens. As the world waited, over one thousand people from all over the world amassed at the site of the trapped boys and created strategies and logistical efforts to free them. The cooperation, courage, and effort that was required to bring them all safely out of the cave is inspiring and moving.

It is fitting that Thailand would be a world leader in ethical behavior. Almost every young man there spends at least some time as a Buddhist monk, learning the rules and ethical systems of that way of life. In fact, the soccer coach who was with the boys was a monk for 8 years. The monks in Thailand have to learn and follow over 200 rules of behavior and ethics. The fact that families in Thailand value learning ethical thinking to the extent that almost all of them send their young boys to monasteries is a great statement about the importance of  values in living.

It is also moving to know that half of the boys were immigrants from Myanmar. In fact, when they were first found, by a British diver, only one of the 13 spoke English: a young immigrant who spoke 4 languages. Some of the boys had been thrust over the border from Myanmar by their parents in hopes that they would have a better life and avoid the danger of where they were living. The coach himself was orphaned and sent to live in a monastery, which explains his eight years of training as a monk

The fact that the coach could teach the boys to meditate so that they remained calm and did not use too much oxygen; that he knew to tell them to drink only the water dripping from the top of the cave, which was rain water and cleaner than the water on the bottom of the cave; that he could provide strong leadership; these qualities are part of what helped the boys survive. It is a great advantage that he had this knowledge.

The divers individually worked their way into the cave and brought out the boys one by one, four hours in and four hours back, under water, climbing over obstacles, squeezing through narrow passages. They taught the boys to breathe using the oxygen tanks. Then each diver carried his own tank and the tank for one boy and led the boy to safety. These divers were from all over the world, not just from Thailand. One diver lost his life in this effort.

The miracle of rescuing these 13 boys out of a flooded cave, in a journey that took close to four hours each way,  and involved over one thousand people from all over the world, is a stark lesson in the necessity of community. We cannot succeed in our lives alone, no matter how many resources we have. We need the many other people in the community and in the world who are working and growing and developing qualities and skills in order to function together. Our world has become completely interdependent. We have problems to solve and a future to build. This can only happen when we understand that we are all, all of us, in it together.

Sturdy is the Goal

As we travel through our lives, we know that we will encounter ups and downs, joy and grief, pleasure and pain. We get better at life as we go along. We get life experience. We understand that we cannot control everything, but it is also true that our efforts will help us lean in the direction of the outcomes we  want. So it matters that we keep trying to be better and do better. We know that it matters how we go at our lives.

There is no secret that will once and for all provide us with certainty about our own well-being or about our safety, health or happiness. We have no guarantees about the well-being of our loved ones, either. The truth is that we are in an ongoing, uncertain, and fluctuating reality. Our best bet is to remain flexible, keep learning new skills and systems, and develop our understanding of the current reality.

What we want to develop is the capacity to be sturdy. To trust in our own competence and values, and to engage with what life throws at us. It is not possible to avoid pain and not wise to simply seek pain relief. We cannot prevent losses or unexpected change. What we can do is build our robust sense of  optimism, take the best care we can of ourselves and our loved ones, and trust in the inherent reasonableness of the larger picture. The wonderful book Unraveling the Mysteries of Health, by Aaron Antonovsky,  describes salutogenesis, a sense of robust well-being, which rests on 3 concepts: Life is Comprehensible, Life is Manageable, and Life is Meaningful.  If we can arrive at a place of endorsing those ideas, we can develop an internal health that will be constructive both in our psychological and our physical experience.

Epistemic Trust

Epistemic is a term that means anything that relates to knowledge and our assessment of how believable it is. When we have epistemic trust in another person, we accept that their knowledge is reliable, and we can allow ourselves to be influenced by the way that person sees the world. This kind of trust is fundamental to healthy human relationships, and, at the same time, requires careful discernment to recognize with whom  we should have epistemic trust.

The previous post explained the concept of mentalization: the capacity to accurately understand and reflect our own mind experience and that of another person. When we have a relationship within which we believe we are accurately seen, we can have epistemic trust with that person. In other words, we know intuitively if that person has an accurate judgement about us, they will likely have accurate judgements about other things too. We can allow ourselves to consider their perspectives, points of view, and opinions about reality. In other words, epistemic trust is a kind of indirect intimacy which reflects respect, connection, and vulnerability.

Trust in another person does not require that that person be right all the time, or caring all the time, or grown up all the time. It does require, however that that person is serious about him or herself, serious about other people, and recognizes the importance of authenticity and openness to change. Anyone can make mistakes or have a bad day. What we would like to believe is that the people who care about us and about whom we care, can recognize and take responsibility for their unwanted and/or destructive  emotions, motives and actions,  can tolerate engaging with us to understand the process between us, particularly when it is off track, and can commit themselves to continual growth as a person in the ways that matter to them and to us.

Epistemic trust is important. It is worth looking for and building. And it is precious. Trust of any kind is easily broken and very difficult to create. We are trusted based on our way of being in the world; based on the story our history tells about us; based on the values our choices demonstrate. We don’t create trust as a main goal but as a side effect of being the kind of person we want to be. And that process of being is created by our relationships with ourselves.

Mentalization

According to Peter Fonagy, “Mentalizing is the process by which we make sense of each other and ourselves, implicitly and explicitly, in terms of subjective states and mental processes. It is a profoundly social construct in the sense that we are attentive to the mental states of those we are with, physically or psychologically.”

In other words, when we mentalize, we recognize that our own perspectives and understandings are based on our own filters and meaning structures and are very different from those of any other person. When we try to understand another person’s experience, we take into account that his or her understanding will be specific to him or her.

While this may seem like an obvious concept, we do not often make the effort when we are with other people to stop and recognize that we are operating out of our own assumptions. But the important part of this idea is that it is the way that we connect deeply with other people: It is the basis of our feeling of closeness with another person.

One of the fundamental experiences of our lives is a wish to be seen–to exist in the mind of another person or persons. This is the antidote to loneliness and despair. And the way that we get this feeling is when we are deeply understood in ways that feel accurate to who we think we are. When another person can reflect to us that they see and understand us in the way we understand ourselves.

What You Get Is What You See

Sometimes you hear people say “What you see is what you get,” meaning the thing or person is exactly as it appears. Whatever you see is what you will get from that thing or person. But I think it works the other way around, too. What you get is often a result of what you see. If you see the world as a dangerous and discouraging place, that is what you will get–bad luck and a lot of unhappy experiences. And if you see the world as a basically good place and you assume other people have good intentions, that is what you will get more often than not. Even when a person disappoints you or exploits you, if you have a mostly trusting view of the world, you will assume that person has a lot of inner pain and his or her inborn good nature has somehow gotten distorted.

Much like the character of Jean Valjean in Les Miserables, the world around us will be transformed by how we see it. You may have read or heard of the scene where Jean Valjean steals valuable silver from a priest’s home and is apprehended by the police and taken back to the home to return the silver. When they arrive, the priest tells the police that the silver is not stolen, it was a gift. By this act, Valjean is changed from a thief into a beneficiary. And at this moment, Valjean has a change of heart and begins to live into that positive view of himself.

We all have mixed motives most of the time. We want to feel good and get what we want, and at the same time, we care about other people and will make effort to promote their well-being. We have lapses and we have moments of deep altruism. When we can give other people the benefit of a more nuanced understanding of human motivation, both ours and theirs, we will see good intentions and bring good intentions, which is a wonderful perspective from which to engage with the world. And because we will see it, we are more likely to get it.

 

Yes, but I’m not trying to mess up.

You know how you run into some obstacle in getting yourself to do something or in getting yourself to stop doing something and you complain about it to someone and they say something on the order of: “You just have to power through,” or “Make a plan and stick to it,” or “Hold yourself accountable….” You know how infuriating that is. If I could just make a plan and do it, I wouldn’t be wrestling so hard with myself, now would I.

The thing is, with all the advice out there about creating better routines, or modifying our own behavior, or, worse, our children’s behavior, you would think we believe that if we just understand the problem and think up a good solution, we’d conquer it. Like if we have the problem, we just haven’t created the right system for fixing it. And sometimes, of course, that is true.

But really what all this self improvement effort misses is that we have unrecognized meanings and identities that SEEK difficulty; we are our own worst enemy; we have unseen motives that cause us to create conflict with the people we love; we sabotage ourselves at work; and we generate unhappiness when we think we are looking for happiness. We get in our own way, and we even can see it sometimes and we still do it. How frustrating is that.

How are we suppose to befriend ourselves and take care of ourselves when we see that we make so much trouble for ourselves. And, worse, we can’t seem to stop doing that. The point is, we are extremely complex creatures, with personal history and cultural meanings and patterns of relating which are intertwined and ambiguous. We are skillful and at the same time awkward, we have moments of greatness and moments of petty selfishness. No picture of who we are that reduces us to a few motives or a few concepts or a few behaviors will be able to contain the many selves within us.

It just seems like it would be helpful for us to remember that as smart as we are in our thinking minds, there is a lot more to us than just what we can think up, and we ought to at least take that reality into account when we try to understand who we are. We are not just thoughts, and we are not just feelings or emotions. We are a complicated bundle of all the factors that combine to create a human being, and we just keep on trying to learn more about what that means and about who we are, even beyond what we can comprehend with our thinking minds.

The Real Causes of Depression

I am just reading Johann Hari’s wonderful new book, Lost Connections: Uncovering the real causes of depression–and the unexpected solutions. Hari is an investigative journalist, so his work is thoughtful and well researched, but he is a great storyteller and very accessible to a broader audience than academic research can be. Hari visited and interviewed scientists, policymakers, and ordinary people to put together an understanding of depression and anxiety, both of which he had experienced over much of his own life.

Hari’s formulation emphasizes the increasing disconnections we experience in modern life: from meaningful work, from our deepest values, from people and community. He presents interesting points of view that contradict some of what we have been told about our own inner experience and our response to our lives and to social changes. We are neither weak nor defective: we are responding in predictable ways to being more and more untethered in our lives.

Depression is one of the most intractable mind experiences because by virtue of its organization, it destroys the motivation to feel better and get better. We lose interest in our lives and in the people around us. We are unable to do those things which might help.  Sometimes we do need other people to recognize that we are getting stuck and to try to do something about it. Sometimes we cannot even bring ourselves to act in our own behalf. The changes can be minor, like going out for lunch, especially with a friend, or they can be major, like moving to a different state. Sometimes we can get ourselves to take these small steps for ourselves, and sometimes we need help.

Hari’s book is a useful way of understanding our own inner mind states. It gives us back the power to actually change our experience, and it acknowledges the reality of the environments and experiences that lead to dysfunction. In other words, we may not have caused the problem, but we are responsible for solving it.

 

The Type of Story We Tell

When faced with puzzling behavior, we often attribute reasons to it–some of them flattering to the person and some of them critical. Research has shown that when we consider the behaviors of people in our group, tribe, or community, we will create stories that show their behavior in a positive light, and the opposite, of course, for out-groups. It is difficult to remember that motivation is complex and multi-determined. We look for unitary reasons for whatever we see and particularly reasons that match what we already think.

The stories that we create, sometimes almost instantly, color how we see the world and reinforce our own biases and assumptions. It is comforting and reassuring to be right about what we think we see, and we are reluctant to get out of that comfort zone. Even within our inner circle of closest relationships, we sometimes attribute self-serving or destructive motives to the people we interact with. This factor underlies a great deal of conflict in marriages and between parents and children.

I was speaking with a young man in the throes of getting a divorce and he said, “All of my so-called friends have disappeared.” I said, “Maybe they are scared. Maybe they are afraid if you get divorced and they spend time with you, they will also get divorced. Or maybe they are scared they will say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing.” This perspective was new to this young man. He assumed his friends were false friends, and he felt like he now knew the truth about them.

His story left him isolated and bitter. My story gave him more hope and more ideas about how to manage this shift in his life. It is not so much that one or another of these stories is more true as it is that each story then leads to a different perspective in the world and a different action. We create ourselves as we go, and reality tends to conform to our expectation of it.

We do not need to deny real facts about what happens in the world, but we can recognize the difference between facts and interpretations. The facts are, his friends are reaching out to him less frequently. That is all. Probably the reasons are different for each person, and they are also probably complicated. He can feel wounded and rejected or he can feel compassion for them in their own lives. His freedom comes in how he interprets what he sees, how he decides to respond to it, and what kinds of inner subjective experience of the world he is practicing inside his own mind.

I’ll Just and At Least

Okay, so it is the time of year for resolutions. I like the idea of aspirations more than resolutions, though. Aspirations are what we are moving toward. You cannot fail an aspiration, but you can fail a resolution. Anyway, that is not my point today. The point is, when you encounter resistance to your intention (which is not lack of motivation, by the way, but blockades to your natural motivation), one trick is to tell yourself, “I’ll just…” some small first step. For example, if I cannot get myself to exercise, I might say to myself, “I’ll just put on my exercise clothes and go to the gym. Then if I don’t do anything it’s fine.” It’s a way of getting around resistance without confronting it and without letting it win. “I’ll just do a little….” Kind of simple, but it seems to work for some things.

The other new year’s trick is “At least.” When you are telling yourself all the things you did not do or did badly, always, always end with “At least….” So it might be like, “I didn’t stick to my spending plan, I didn’t study enough; I forgot to do what I was supposed to…” There is always an ending that goes, “At least I cut back; At least I did a little; at least I thought about it….” Because after all, we don’t want to leave ourselves with a feeling of being disappointed in ourselves but instead, recognize our intentions and efforts, however inadequate we may think they are.

Motivation and success are built by pluses. So we have to recognize the pluses however small they are in order to ensure that we protect our relationships with ourselves. Ok. This isn’t exactly about long term therapy. But we don’t have to be deep all the time. Sometimes we have to be practical. At least we are trying to improve ourselves.

The River that Runs Through It

Depression is a liar. It tells a story with great conviction. The story is this: “This depressed me is the real me. Sometimes I feel temporarily happier, but I know I will just return to this real self. I can fake it, but it’s not genuine. Nothing will ever change. No matter how hard I try, I’ll always be defeated. All I can do is just tolerate it.”

It’s a big fat lie. The truth is, life has its ups and downs. Good things will happen; bad things will happen. We will be selfish and destructive, and we will be heroic and talented. We will fall down and not want to get up. We will play and be joyful. And we will help other people and inspire them. We will be loved and rejected. Worried and confident. We will be depressed and happy.

Sometimes we think the river that runs through our lives is hopelessness or sadness or ultimate defeat. “That’s just how I am,” we say to ourselves. But that is not true. The truth is, the river that runs through us is the self that has continuity over our lifetimes. It is not our moods and it is not our actions. The river is the deep convictions and ideals we care about.

What we pay attention to grows in strength and consistency. We keep coming back to what matters. We put our focus on what we care about; we remind ourselves to inhabit the joy when it happens. We appreciate the good in our lives and recognize the losses. We get back up and keep making effort. And the quality of our experience gets better. Incrementally. Two steps forward and one step back.

And weirdly, the actual structure of our brains changes. The chemistry in our heads is altered. And we find, after all, that we are in charge of our lives. Not in the ways we thought. Not by controlling the world and not by giving up. Not by insisting on the outcomes we want. But by little by little constructing ourselves to be the persons we want to be and appreciating–not just accepting–the richness of this journey of being alive.