“What is the answer then? For fear of sounding like the very thing I am criticising, the secret is not secret and has always been there. It may be unpalatable but the answer to big, deeply entrenched problems lies in hard work, often painful and sometimes years or a lifetime of it.”
© S. Marian, July 17, 2012
An excerpt from “Self Loathing Books,” to be found on “A View From Outside the Box,” url: adialogue
The Four Tops, “I Can’t Help Myself” - why is the old music so good?
I confess, I am one of the ‘women who think too much.’ In fact, at times I’m capable of ‘thinking big’ and this has enabled me to achieve goals and be ‘positively happy.’ I’ve thought a lot about how ‘you can heal your life,’ and have been assured that if you want to it takes just ‘a weekend to change your life.’ We all want change, not just in our lives but some of us dream of ‘a new earth.’ Ultimately, though we torture ourselves with desiring change in our lives and for humanity, it’s important to realise that ‘I’m ok - you’re ok. Are you wondering if I’ve gone off the deep end? I can reassure you that not only am I ok and you are ok, but the multi million dollar self help book industry is also very much ok, some titles of which are represented above. How helpful are they though?
The titles in quotations are an example of the eleven self help books I’ve been given or purchased in my life. What brings me or anyone to the point of buying a self help book? Simply, we want a quick and easy fix, a list of instructions to follow, some one else to tell us what to do to change our lives. We may be desperate and feel we have tried everything. The very act of buying a book and investing it with hope and a certain authority, in that we look to it for the answers, almost guarantees our failure. Whatever your problem, no lasting help is to be found in handing it over to someone else. Not only is it not helpful, it may well be harmful.
Have a look at the evidence. If self help books worked, according to Christine B. Whelan of the University of Oxford, why have they “doubled as a percentage of all book titles since the 1970’s?” She contends that self help books are a reaction to feelings of alienation and lack of control. These books provide one with the illusion of taking the first steps to control their own lives, in the face of a weakening sense of self control in America. The most successful publications are born in America and consequently it’s a good case in point. According to Miss Whelan’s findings, the demographic of the self help publishing’s success is well educated, middle class, in their late 30’s-early 40’s. They are also more self confident, sophisticated and open to innovation than the average American. Are you surprised? People in this group are already in control of their lives, why would they seek help? The answer is simple. Those that have self control understand it’s value and seek more of it.
Even a cursory analysis of my own small collection reveals by their titles alone, the only thing they are helping is the publishers, authors and the sales of such books in general. I call it the ‘supermarket growing herb phenomenon.’ Do you remember when you could purchase ‘growing herbs’ in supermarkets that actually lived and grew? I do and bought them on one or two occasions. At some point they changed though, became less resilient, no matter how I cared for them they died. Then I figured it out, the secret to their shorter mortality – they had somehow been grown corrupt, either by lack of sustenance in the soil, weak roots or some other means so that they would not last. They weren’t really growing herbs as much as they were more expensive herbs in pots. I am convinced that kettles and toasters are designed in the same way – they are not intended to ‘work’ indefinitely. If they did, we wouldn’t be compelled to replace them and sales would plummet. By the same token, if self help books worked, we wouldn’t need any more. The same is true of a massive part of the self help book market - diet books. If they delivered what they promised, we’d need only one good one, everyone would read it and there wouldn’t be an obesity epidemic, rising diabetes, heart disease and other weight related issues. There also wouldn’t be any more books. No more Valerie Bertinelli in tight jeans with her narrow backside and wide smile, no Weight Watchers or Jenny Craig or any of the other ‘cures’ for losing weight.
It’s debatable then as to their efficacy, but as some time out in fairy land where we pretend our problems are as simple as ten easy steps or something similar, what’s the harm? The harm comes from believing that any serious problem is solved from the surface, or is as superficial as a set of how to instructions. Tell that to the person fighting obesity, who has tried every single diet going and not only not lost any weight, but probably gained more with each successive new gimmicky diet. For them, the answers don’t lie in a book, they lie in understanding the pain that lies deep within and why they developed an overeating coping mechanism to stifle those feelings. Telling them that by doing x, y and z they will be thin and beautiful and solve their problems is not just naïve but reckless. This is true of any self help book. Furthermore, with every book read that doesn’t deliver the results, the person turns that failure inward and it adds to self loathing, thus perpetuating the whole cycle. It seems so easy, what’s wrong with me that I can’t succeed at this? After some time of hating themselves for their problem, the facts of their failure all too evident, they turn to another book which promises that this one will really work!
The interesting thing for me about my own collection of books is that I’ve only read one of them. They attracted me at a particular time (of the ones I bought) because I wanted what they offered. I think I knew I was kidding myself, and they weren’t the answer. I’ve never read Rhonda Byrne’s book, “The Secret,” but if as she claims, (with no verifiable support) that Shakespeare, Plato, Beethoven, Lincoln and Einstein were some of a select few who were in on it, why then were they unhappy at all. People that knew Lincoln described him as having the saddest eyes, Shakespeare’s was the world’s most famous bard but if he held ‘the secret,’ would he not have used it to visualise his wife pregnancy free and thus necessitating their marriage. With the means to control fate with positive thinking, why didn’t he prevent his only son dying? Perhaps he wasn’t visualising effectively? Einstein also lost a child, his only daughter and endured a very stressful marriage breakdown. True, these men represented the best of their time and their good work will live on but they did not have ‘the secret.’
What is the answer then? For fear of sounding like the very thing I am criticising, the secret is not secret and has always been there. It may be unpalatable but the answer to big, deeply entrenched problems lies in hard work, often painful and sometimes years or a lifetime of it. There is scientific evidence to suggest that positive thinking does have an impact on our lives but more importantly, so does hope and meaning. That’s the danger of self help books, they offer both far too cheaply and nothing that easily acquired is ever of any value.
Additional research:
“Self Help Books and the Quest for Self Control in the United States, 1950-2000,” Christine B. Whelan, University of Oxford
Daily Mail Online, Professor Timothy D Wilson, August 15, 2011
“The Secret,” Rhonda Byrne, Wikipedia
© S. Marian, July 17, 2012
Shit happens.
That sums it up and I find I can really relate to this image. For a long time, during each traumatic or difficult event, I would imagine the time in the future when I would come out of it. I lived for that moment of peace and release from the strife. Life had other things in store for me and although there was resolution, before one tough challenge was finished, another would come along. Again, I focused on the distant day it would all be different. It’s been like that for so many years now, I’ve stopped thinking about it. Now, out to sea in the rain and floating on my chair - I’m not thinking about that day. I’m trying to reach down deep and find the strength to keep going, the wisdom to guide me through, the heart to stay open, the vision to see what’s right in front of me. I am alive, living this beautiful life, this messy struggle of a life and that’s good. There is much to celebrate and happiness if I will allow it. I see myself more as a marathon runner now, on the long race but now and again I stop to smell the flowers - they smell so sweet.
Those are my encouraging words for today, I’ll leave you with some more that say it even better.
“A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.
Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other.
How sweet it tasted!”
(From “Zen Flesh, Zen Bones,” Buddha told a parable in a sutra. Compiled by Paul Reps and Nyogen Senzaki - Shambhala Pocket Classics)
As a parent I have been called upon to mediate in some bizarre situations but none more so than this week. My daughter was ready to charge downstairs and wake her brother seeking vengeance, all the while furiously sniffing the armpits of her hoodie. The crime? He was accused of, in the words of his loving sister, “…coming into my room and deliberately rubbing his sweaty armpits on the inside of my hoodie!” As a way to wind your sister up, it would be admirably inventive but unfortunately the explanation is far more mundane. It is to do with clothes needing washing, piles of dirty laundry left in heaps over time do not become more fragrant, it is to do with the ease with which one person can blame another.
We live in a blame filled world, everyone looking for a hook to hang their unhappiness on. I am no exception and have been equally prone to evading responsibility when it suited. Growing up my brother was the scapegoat for my misdemeanours too, for the phone being perpetually engaged when my parents tried to call home, for packets of biscuits disappearing without a trace and anything else I could hang him with. In the way of adoring sisters everywhere, I continued to duck and dive until one day, some weeks after he moved out for good. Confronted with some infraction of house rules and before I thought about it I said, “Michael did it.” My Mother’s eyes narrowed as the manacles of guilt dangled above my head – I never missed my brother more than at that moment.
Some people will do anything to evade responsibility, wary of laws designed to mete out justice that can also strangle. I well remember the years my children were small, the many, many hours I spent in Scottish playparks pushing them on swings, watching them plummet gleefully down long slides or spinning them in dizzying circles on roundabouts. Every small village or town had one. When we moved to Dublin we were very surprised to find only one playpark in the large greater Dublin area, all the others we were told had been removed. Apparently, lawyers were flourishing in the Fair City and one too many playground lawsuits left Dublin bereft of play spaces. Was the Irish play equipment inherently more dangerous? What is really dangerous is the price of blame shifting, the loss of fun and freedom.
A similar story ran through the British papers about horse chestnut trees and the cost of their removal from government owned land. The various Council regions lived in fear of the lawsuit and removed many trees that are not only objects of beauty but also the pastime of generations of British children – namely the sourcing and hardening of the horse chestnut seed for “conker” competitions. Due to the reported ‘potential danger’ of a conker seed dropping on someone’s head, (the actual danger being a lawsuit from Mr or Mrs. Rapacious), so endeth the fun. Blame, falsely placed can cost us all.
Obviously, there are those that genuinely and correctly blame some for their suffering. When something really does go wrong, frequently all we want is for the ‘guilty party’ to take responsibility and apologise. Often, it does not happen. I have been grateful to be hit by a conker of wisdom in my middle years. For some time I blamed my parents for that which was ill in my own life, believing they had sown the seeds of my circumstances. After spending a long time trying to make them understand, blaming them for all that was wrong, a lengthy period feeling wronged, hurt and angry, I came out the other side. I realised the blindingly obvious, they were not living my life, I was. By continually blaming them and steeping myself in the emotions associated with that, I was somehow making them responsible for my life. The truth is of course, as an adult you are responsible for yourself, your choices, your existence, even the emotions you allow to dwell within you. I have come out the other side and would not hand over my life or the responsibility of it to anyone again. In that sense, as my life is my responsibility – I was to blame for my state of affairs. “If you could kick a person in the trousers, responsible for most of your trouble, you wouldn’t sit for a month.”
The most positive and profound choice a person can make in their life is to be fully responsible for themselves. Anything else “…is a waste of time. No matter (what) fault you find with another, and regardless of how much you blame them, it will not change you. The only thing blame does is to keep the focus off you when you are looking for external reasons to explain your unhappiness or frustration. You may succeed in making another feel guilty about something by blaming them, but you won’t succeed in changing whatever it is about you that is making you unhappy.” (Wayne Dyer)
Next time you are ready to hand out blame to your brother, your parents or even Canada, consider your part in things. Know that you are also giving away something you may not wish to lose – your Self.
© S. Marian, Apr. 24, 2012
(see video clip to hear the South Park song, “Blame Canada.”)
“Recently, I have been aware of a new kind of air current blowing through my life. It would not lift a leaf nor a blade of grass yet the effect of it’s ghostly presence is profound. In the movie ‘Chocolat’ it was called the mistral, ‘a strong, cold northeasterly wind.; The mistral blew things about but was noted for it’s emotional impact. I have come to know it as the wind of change.”
© S. Marian
There are so many good songs about the wind from this one by the Scorpions, “Wind of Change,” to Bob Dylan’s, “Blowin in the Wind” and more. It is interesting to note that primary school teachers have observed that children are more restless and disruptive on windy days.
“The sky this morning is grey blue and rain is a promise, the wind a zephyr in the trees. The sound of the chimes outside lifts me from here, their tenor notes take me on a breeze back to a different place. They take me to a another life and a time I thought would never end.”
“Change comes whether we bid it or not.”
© S. Marian, Apr.27, 2012
(Excerpts from “There’s No Going Back,” to be found on “A View From Outside The Box,” url: adialogue)
(all credit for photo goes to oloferla, click on link to view more of her work)
The sky this morning is grey blue and rain is a promise, the wind a zephyr in the trees. The sound of the chimes outside lifts me from here, their tenor notes take me on a breeze back to a different place. They take me to another life and a time I thought would never end.
Recently, I have been aware of a new kind of air current blowing through my life. It would not lift a leaf nor a blade of grass yet the effect of its ghostly presence is profound. In the movie “Chocolat” it was called the mistral, “ a strong, cold northeasterly wind.” The mistral blew things about but was noted for it’s emotional impact. I have come to know it as the wind of change.
Many years ago a tempest took me away from everything I had known, depositing me in another country. I left family, friends and all that was familiar and for a while I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz – I certainly wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I was young and embraced the change, my heart and mind open. With hindsight I can see how much my receptive attitude influenced my circumstances.
Change comes whether we bid it or not. With openness we are able to engage fully with any experience. In this state we may grow, accept the new and transform our lives if we wish. Anything becomes possible.
Years later, I could now recognise the coming of the storm. It was exhilarating and I was restless for what it would bring. Each day seemed a day too long, the air heavy and stagnant as I went through the motions. Suddenly, in a breath or the last beat of a heart, everything changed. My boyfriend was killed, and separately, my old friend too. Two funerals in a week and not long after, I lost my home and job. It took time but one day I picked myself up. I saw my life differently and was compelled to change things. I left and began a new life, planning a different future.
It was several years later, living in another place, married with a child on the way that I remembered that impending storm. I saw how much the storm had taken but also what it had given me. It gave me a different life, one that I was the better for.
The greatest challenge is to move on through pain. If it’s going to come anyway, we only exhaust ourselves by fighting it. We deplete our energy holding on too tightly, strangling growth and resisting the inevitable. Perhaps the Serenity Prayer says it best, “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” I would add that the wisdom to recognise the things you can change but are wise not to, is also invaluable.
The older we get, the harder it is to cope with change. We have learned to fear, to avoid pain and to protect ourselves. Nevertheless, we cannot hide from it. I remember a time when every day seemed to bring monumental challenge and stress. With two house moves in quick succession, change of schools, jobs, friends and a protracted nightmare of a housebuild – we were ready to rest for a while. I was so distracted with all of this that I didn’t feel it as it gathered strength, I didn’t hear the roar. A tsunami of change came two weeks after we moved into our new home, a flood surrounded our house and left us stranded.
When the wind died down and the water receded, I realised we could not remain in such a situation. It took three years to be able to leave and in that time we had lost our home, our investment and our feeling of security. The children lost their school for a separate reason and I lost something quite crucial. I lost the belief that when everything was dealt with, life would return to ‘normal.’ Insurance companies indemnify people so that if something happens, “you will be put back to where you were before the event happened.” The truth is, you can never go back - change is a one way ticket.
I learned crucial lessons from the previous experiences and although I am no longer fighting three law suits or home educating my children, the pace of change is still brisk. I learned that although you cannot go back, you can “find the courage to change the things you can.” I carefully pick the battles I fight now, knowing that it is possible to lose more than I may ever hope to gain.
I think it would be fair to say that I do not embrace change as I once did but I do not run from it either. It will be interesting to see where the mistral will take me.
© S. Marian, Apr.17, 2012
Some of you may have noticed that I’ve been a little quiet recently. I’ve been trying to decide whether to continue with my blog. I want to develop my writing and intend to write a book. My dilemma has been whether my blog writing has enough people reading it to support the amount of time I spend writing it. I am happy to continue but this is your chance - if you read my writing, let me know. Please put a “YES” if you do, in my ask box and I’ll tally the votes. If I don’t keep blogging, those of you who wish to continue corresponding with me, please also let me know.
“The truth is, you can never go back - change is a one way ticket.”
Excerpt from, “There’s No Going Back,” to be posted tomorrow, April 17, on “A View From Outside The Box.” (url: adialogue)
