Truth and fear

(A wordle cloud based on the top 100 words in this post)

I realise that I’ve been writing a lot of posts that in some way relate to the truth – to the struggle to see what is true rather than what we wish to be true, and to be honest with ourselves and with others. I thought it might be a good idea to explore what I feel about truth.

I am in the slightly odd position of being deeply committed to an end goal of personal and spiritual growth (tolerance, honesty, compassion, freedom from fear etc) that is similar in some ways to that which is praised by religions. But at the same time I find the supernaturalism of religious and new-age beliefs fundamentally alien, and their approach to key issues like truth and fear unhelpful at best. Which doesn’t leave me much in the way of reliable guidance for the personal growth that I am seeking. Or indeed any help with defining what exactly I aspire to.

But let me try anyway. One of the things I am seeking is a resilience in the face of the problems that life throws at me – not a permanent happiness, but an emotional buoyancy. A state of mind that deals with problems and obstacles with the minimum of pain and misery. (This ideal owes quite a bit to the non-supernatural elements of buddhism)

Part of that process is about overcoming fear, which is often both unnecessary and counterproductive, and replacing it with a confidence and acceptance. And another part of it is about truth – seeing things the way they are. Because I’m curious to know the truth, and because I feel that honesty, integrity and openness are all valuable characteristics of the person I aspire to be. And because if our beliefs lead us to make false predictions about the world, we’re in danger of being unnecessarily prepared for the problems that arise, or of dealing with them inappropriately.

I also value truthfulness as a great tool for identifying and overcoming fear. From my experience, it’s almost always fear that makes me reluctant to see or speak the truth, so working to overcome that reluctance, or at least defy it, can help me to overcome that fear.

For me the work of moving away from fear and towards truth is a vital part of my life at present.

When I feel I am tempted to lie, I try to ask myself, what am I afraid of? When I feel afraid, I ask myself, why am I afraid, and what is the worst that can happen? And I try to decide whether the fear is of something real, or something imaginary. If, as mostly happens, it’s imaginary, I try to do exactly that thing that I’m afraid of. I don’t always manage it – it’s amazing how easily the mind dreams up excuses why it’s not necessary on this occasion! But step by step I am working on my fears.

And similarly I am trying to eradicate the prejudices, biases and fears that are the biggest obstacles to seeing what is real. I keep trying to remember that, although I believe that every one of my beliefs is correct, is is, in practice, certain that I believe something that is not true. Which doesn’t help me to identify which one it is, but it’s a useful principle. (It would be great to be able to swill out my brain with some sort of epistemological plaque detector, which would stain the areas of false belief so that they could be removed with energetic brushing). But it’s a useful way to counter the pride of having to be right about everything all the time.

It’s also helpful to remember all the different ways in which we can be wrong about things, and how difficult it is to really get at the truth. I’ve recently watched several youtube clips of Derren Brown (e.g. this one) which demonstrate very neatly how easy we can be to fool, and how misleading our own experiences can be. (I recently tried dowsing with a pendulum, and it’s quite shocking how strongly it appears that an invisible external force is involved, even when you know intellectually that it’s nothing of the kind!) It seems that humans work in such a way that we arrive at beliefs easily and quickly, and change our minds reluctantly and slowly – I can’t help feeling the reverse would be more useful!

One of the most inspiring websites I know is The World Question Center, which includes a collection of short accounts from 165 people about issues on which they changed their minds. Some of the changes are really significant, others smaller. But what I find inspiring is the courage with which they have been prepared to put their beliefs to the test and say “I was wrong”. And in reading their accounts, I don’t think the less of them for being wrong – I think more of them for admitting it. Which encourages me to try to feel the same about the scary idea of being wrong.

One of the most important ways in which I’ve changed my mind over recent years is this: what people believe really does matter, because it affects their behaviour, and a “live and let live” relativistic attitude to the beliefs of others is dangerous. It also cuts us off from putting our own views to the test – indeed, as I argued in a previous post, I think one of the attractions of relativism is that we don’t have to put our own views on the line and accept that we might be wrong.

For me discussion is a crucial way of putting our beliefs to the test and learning more about ourselves and others. But for a discussion to be real, all parties have to be willing to discover that they’re wrong. And that is a rare attitude for people to have, particularly on issues that matter to them. Pride and fear all come into play and bias our view of the evidence despite our best efforts. Which, yes, brings me back to fear – indeed it seems hard to separate them!

Moving towards truth and away from fear is a daily challenge, and some days I feel I’ve made no progress at all. It’s a hard slog. But it seems to me that it’s a fascinating and important journey.

Though, I could be wrong, I’m afraid….

Masks and fears – part 3

A strange thing happened the other day. A very close friend, who knew that I was planning some blog posts on masks, sent me a poem, which she’d sent me years ago and which had meant a lot to us at the time. And she suggested that it would be worth sharing on the blog. Here’s the link – Please hear what I’m not saying.But the poem didn’t have any resonance for me any more. A few years ago I’d not have said anything to her, but thanked her without telling her what I thought, because I don’t like criticising things that mean a lot to other people. But I’ve made some progress in my own removal of masks, so I told her honestly that the poem didn’t mean much to me any more.

I quoted this passage:

But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it.
That is, if it’s followed by acceptance, if it’s followed by love.
It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls,
from the barriers I so painstakingly erect.
It’s the only thing that will assure me
of what I can’t assure myself, that I’m really worth something

And I said:

“In a way, what has happened to me has been the very opposite – I opened myself to a glance that I thought was knowing and received neither acceptance nor love. And although it hurt me terribly, at the same time it has set me free in a way I never dreamed possible. Because it forced me to assure myself of what I’m worth, to be my own salvation, and my own strength. It’s quite an amazing feeling.”

Far from being bothered by the fact that I didn’t like the poem she’d sent, my friend replied:

“To tell you the truth, it had been ages since I’d last read it too… In fact, I didn’t even read it again before sending it to you. So your comments on the passage you selected rang far truer to me than what was said in the poem. You are perfectly right: no point us waiting around for someone else to give us an approving glance. In fact, that is often enough the root of many of our problems. We have to convince ourselves of our own worth and certainly NOT be dependent on anyone else’s approval – or it becomes hell!”

It struck me that this was a rather powerful illustration that it is possible to remove masks, and that if we have courage to be open to what life brings, we will learn what we need to learn, without hurting ourselves and others through unfortunate short-cuts, or being dependent on the approval of others.

And each day seems to bring me more examples of how this can be a beneficial process for me and those around me.

I’ve written about the dangers of trying to take a shortcuts to masklessness. But in some ways I suppose what happened to me was in effect a short cut. Several of my worst interpersonal fears came true at once, but I survived, and suddenly those fears no longer have any power to trouble me.  It’s not a journey that I’d wish on anyone, but it has helped me immeasurably.

I’m not all the way there yet, and there are still many fears and masks that I haven’t yet dealt with. But looking back I can see just how far I’ve come, and how much easier and more interesting life becomes!

Unfortunately that poem still speaks for the experience of so many people. And despite his claims I’m sadly fairly sure that my ex is still one of them.

I hope that he, and they, find a sustainable and authentic way to take off their masks and heal their fears.

Masks and fears – part 2

There is an art to being authentically ourselves without disregarding the needs of others.

The “express route” to being maskless that my ex was taking (see my earlier post masks and fears) seemed to be about two principles. Firstly being spontaneous and selfish about doing what he wanted – on the grounds that much of our kindness to others comes from fear of what they will do/say if we are not kind. (I think the idea was that once you got over your fear you’d start being genuinely kind, but it was never very clear to me how this was supposed to happen). And secondly, saying the first thing that came into his mind – presumably on the grounds that not saying it would reflect some form of self-censorship.

Writing about this makes me realise just how bizarre an approach to authenticity and masklessness this was!

It’s certainly important to be aware of your wants and your initial reactions. But we’re complicated creatures, and what comes out first isn’t necessarily the reaction that is most true to us. And if we’re not careful about how we express ourselves, there’s huge scope for misunderstanding. There’s also a huge difference between honesty and bluntness. We’re social creatures, and some degree of filtering and consideration for others is vital for oiling social wheels.

(Of course there are times when we need to take care of ourselves, and sometimes that means gently telling others that we can’t help them. But there are ways of setting boundaries in a compassionate and sensitive way – explaining why we can’t do something without blaming the other person for wanting it.)

I can’t be sure that these were the approaches he was taking – but going by some of the comments he made about my behaviour or his, I’m fairly confident that they at least featured in his thinking. I also don’t know whether these approaches to masklessness came directly from the course or were his interpretation of what they were teaching.

Either way, his approach to being maskless seems to have been painful for both of us.

From his side, he was putting huge effort into being “maskless”, and was probably genuinely hurt by my reaction to what he thought was his real self. But what I was hearing from him was unfiltered fear, defensiveness and later annoyance, and I had almost no time to get used to the transition from masked to “maskless”.

I never rejected him, but I would not and could not hide my distress (which was probably more difficult for him to cope with than rejection would have been!) And I didn’t, until it was too late, challenge the idea that what he was showing was genuinely his maskless higher self.

His approach to honesty caused other problems too. When he asked me a serious question, I dug down deep into myself to work out what I was really thinking and feeling, and then took more time to find the right words to communicate my thoughts with minimum scope for misunderstanding. Unfortunately he seemed to interpret the time it took me to reply as me being dishonest and defensive, editing my reactions and words to manipulate or please him! I eventually realised that there was nothing I could do that could restart communication between us.

In the end he cut off from seeing me and his other friends, apparently only able to be “authentic” with other people from the same course. (in itself a very disturbing sign).

So I don’t know whether his attempts at being maskless became more successful. I rather doubt it, given the weird and counterproductive way he was going about it.

What is the point of taking your masks off so quickly that you are unable to cope with interacting with people? Or, put another way, what does honesty mean if you’re not communicating?

I still think that it’s good to try to remove the masks and fears that stop you interacting openly and honestly with others – but shortcuts like these are dangerous. If you deal with the fear, the mask will fall away on its own; but if you just try to take off the mask without dealing with the fear, your “authentic” reactions will be defensive and fearful. And, as I have learnt to my cost, very hurtful to those close to you.

(continues in masks and fears part 3, here)

Masks and fears

(Photo by Serrator at flickr)

My ex claimed, on returning from his “personal development” course, that he had removed his “masks” and was now behaving authentically. He criticised me for not removing my masks. And he blamed me for clinging onto the unreal version of him which he had initially presented to me, and in doing so rejecting who he really was.

As I understand it, the idea of masks is that we all hide our inner selves because we are afraid how people will react if we reveal who we truly are. I think it’s fair to say that we all wear masks – to some extent it’s part of our adaptation to being in the world. And I think it’s also true that as we grow as people we can learn to show more of ourselves, to be honest about who we are and what we want.

I believe in authenticity and this kind of personal growth. So I was very happy to support my ex in his journey of development, to be more himself, to be more honest and more at ease with me and others.

Unfortunately, from my side, what actually happened looked rather different. When I first saw him after returning from the course, he seemed brittle and closed off, unaffectionate, and talked mainly about trivial things. When I forced more serious conversation, he kept telling me that it was only my fears that were causing me to see his behaviour as distressing, and that it was not his role to deal with my fears for me.

Although he claimed to have taken off his masks, to be authentic and present, it felt at the time as if he had never been further away from me. I tried to identify any fears on my side that might be causing me to see him this way. But with hindsight I think my contribution to the difficulties was very small.

The real problem was that, although he claimed to have removed his masks, he had replaced them with thick defensive armour.

He may have come back from the course keen to be open and authentic, but his defences quickly slammed into place in response to a very mild bit of scepticism on my part. He himself later admitted that he was projecting his fears onto me. But unfortunately his fear provoked exactly what he feared – I was confused and scared by the way he had changed, and could not hide my distress. And my reaction to his defensiveness made him close down further. A vicious circle that neither of us seemed able to stop.

I fought to control my fears, and when I was away from him, generally succeeded in convincing myself that I had nothing to fear but fear itself. But the problems weren’t just due to me being unreasonably afraid, so inevitably I couldn’t solve them alone. The moment I was confronted with his defensiveness and coldness, the fears resurfaced all over again.

Now, looking back, I am utterly convinced that removing your masks is not something that you can learn to do in a week or even a month. I think it’s something you can only learn gradually, slowly peeling off the individual layers of mask as you come to accept yourself for who you are.

To put it another way, we wear masks because we are afraid, and you can’t remove the mask without first dealing with the fear that makes you want to wear it. I don’t think there’s a short cut.

And I certainly don’t think it’s ever fair to blame other people for not removing their masks. It’s a matter of trust, and trust cannot be demanded, just earned. You can encourage them to be open, and you can create a space where they feel safe to do so. But if someone genuinely opens up to you, as I did to him, they become incredibly vulnerable to being rejected, as he did to me.

My ex demanded honesty from me, at a time when his behaviour made me feel very unsafe. And although I was afraid, because I loved him and wanted to keep our relationship alive, I threw caution to the winds and was as honest as I knew how to be. In particular, I was honest about what I was feeling. Admitting to the powerful, painful emotions cascading through me – the fear, the jealousy, the confusion, the self-doubt. Not blaming him or asking him to respond to my pain with anything more than understanding. But at the same time, not hiding what I was feeling, even if I was ashamed to admit it.

He told me that my distress was overdramatic and was traumatising him. He ended our relationship and has not willingly spoken to me since.

It’s hard to put into words just how much that hurt.

Removing masks is a very dangerous thing, if approached the wrong way… and blaming someone else for not removing their masks is always the wrong way.

(continues in masks and fears part 2…)

Songs

“Songs are ways that human beings explore emotions. They express who we are and how we feel, they bring us closer to others, they keep us company when we are alone. They articulate our beliefs and values. As the years pass, songs bear witness to our lives. They allow us to relive the past, examine the present, and to voice our dreams of the future. Songs weave tales of our joys and sorrows, they reveal our innermost secrets, and they express our hopes and disappointments, our fears and triumphs. They are the sounds of our personal development.”

Bruscia – The dynamics of music psychotherapy”

Friends and lovers

Why is it that our friends are so much more likely to stay in our life than our lovers? We fall in love with people because they are special, because we feel connected to them on a powerful and intimate level. So you would think that, even if a romantic relationship doesn’t work out, these qualities would still make them valuable parts of our lives. But it so rarely seems to work out that way.

Is it just because we tend to expect too much of our lovers, and then are disappointed when they fail to be as perfect as we dreamed they were? Because so much of what we saw in them was given an unreal rosy glow by the hormonal intoxication of falling in love? Because we want to be their “number one” and can’t bear to be displaced from that top spot?

Of course it’s possible to stay friends with ex-lovers, and sometimes the friendship can work better than the original relationship. I’ve never not wanted to be friends with my ex-partners. But my most recent ex’s complete refusal to communicate makes friendship not only impossible but almost certainly undersirable even if he changed his mind:  stability and willingness to communicate are some of the main things I look for in a friend!

It’s strange – I remember thinking, at an early stage in my relationship with this ex, that of course there was no way to be sure we would always love each other or be the right partner for each other. But I wasn’t worried because of the strength of our communication made me confident we’d always be able to talk, always be able to be friends, and decide together what was best for us. The fact that I was completely wrong about this is one of the most painful aspects of our break-up. 

I don’t really know why he cut off so abruptly. It wasn’t something he’d done in previous relationships, so I suspect it must be the “personal development” course he went on. Indeed the course seems to have led him to cut off from all his old friends, in a way I can’t believe is healthy. Interestingly I was speaking to a friend of mine last night, who described how an old friend of his had gone on a “personal development” course and as a result completely cut herself off from all her friends – for reasons scarily similar to those my ex gave. If these courses were genuinely promoting “personal development” then they should deepen the relationships in your life, rather than ending them. Of course you may be in the wrong relationship and need to move on, but you should be able to do that in an open and mature way if necessary. And it certainly should not lead you to cut off friendships that have sustained you for years.

Anyway, all this does make me realise just how amazingly valuable and precious my friends are. People I’ve known for years now, who’ve seen me grow and change, and have shared their stories with me. People who it makes me smile just to think of. People who don’t put me on a pedestal, or expect too much of me. People – both men and women – who have comforted me when I have wept, without feeling threatened or uncomfortable. People who have told me truths, sometimes painful ones, that I needed to hear, without making me feel bad about myself. People who will almost certainly still be there as lovers come and go.

Of course my lovers have been my friends too, while we’ve been together. But there seems to be something about a romantic relationship which means that the end of the romance damages the friendship, often beyond repair. I think if I could work out more about why, it would be an excellent basis for finding a loving relationship with the lasting stability of a friendship. I think it largely comes down to unrealistic expectations, and unrealistic perceptions of who the other person is – we try to make them fit our dreams, and then are broken-hearted when they don’t match up to the illusion we had.

At the end of the day I don’t need a lover, however much I might want one. But I’d be very lost without my friends….

Reliable signposts for personal growth

How do you find reliable signposts to guide a journey of personal development? How do you decide which ways of thinking, or which activities, are conducive to the goals you’re trying to reach?

If you believe in a particular religion, then there’s normally some sort of path set out, and priests/teachers to guide you along it. If you accept the basis of that guidance (the holy book or equivalent), it gives you some structure. And most religions do seem to teach (even if their followers don’t practice) good principles – like compassion and community. But so many organised religions stress obedience and conformity, not to mention faith rather than enquiry, which I don’t see as conducive to personal growth. Some people may find it beneficial, but it fundamentally wouldn’t work for me.

Frustration by the options offered by the formal religions leads lots of people to turn to new-age approaches. These tend to offer a much less conformist view, but they’re haphazard and tend to promote belief in all sorts of weird things. As I’ve said earlier, attractive as it would be to be able to believe some of these claims, I find the arguments made for them fundamentally lacking in real critical scrutiny and regard for truth. Some of the claims new-agers make may be valid, but the crazier claims make it really difficult to trust that there’s any reliable guidance to be found here.

Alternatively you have self-help books, which seem to have expanded to cover even more bookshelf space each time I visit my local bookshop! I’ve found some useful suggestions there, but a lot more that is anecdotal and often not based on any serious evidence. (I came across a great article on Self help – shattering the myths). On what authority do the authors give their advice? Who has followed this advice, and did it work out well for everyone? Why did they write this advice? Again, I’m very wary of trusting myself to these sources unless I have good answers to these questions.

Beyond self-help books, some people turn to personal development courses in search of greater peace of mind and personal growth. But these are subject to many of the failings of self help books, and can often be far worse because they are much more intense. I was very interested to come across Louise Samways’ fascinating and frightening text dangerous persuaders which suggests that some personal development courses share a worrying number of features with religious cults. And sadly my own experience and that of friends confirms the negative effect that personal development courses can have on people, and on their relationships with friends and partners. I plan to steer well clear of these.

What else is there? Psychological research is throwing up some fascinating findings which provide some very interesting food for thought. The research often very challenging to our conceptions of who we are and how we think. It’s dizzying to realise the extent to which the mind and senses that appear so infallible are playing all sorts of tricks on us. But while this makes the mind boggle, I often find myself looking for something that goes a bit further. A lot of psychology seems to focus on poor mental health and functioning normally within society. Of course this is important and valuable. But at the same time I’m sure there are ways of growing as a person – becoming more confident, more honest, more open.

As I said in an earlier post, I believe life itself can teach us a lot – particularly if we seek interesting people and situations, and try to be open to what we can learn from them. It’s a great way to live, and a great way to grow. It’s tempting to look for shortcuts – but many of the shortcuts on offer take us away from the world – onto courses or into convents, rather than just confronting the challenges of now.

Not just our own lives of course – I think there’s a huge amount to learn from the stories that allow us to tap into what other people have learnt and done with their lives. Some autobiographical, some fictional. Some realistic, some dealing with archetypes that seem to have a powerful resonance (like Women who run with the Wolves, which I’ve mentioned in a few posts).

I suppose that gives at least three useful sources of guidance – psychological research, personal experience, and stories of others. A lot of food for thought!

Perhaps too much? Of course having multiple sources means that you always have to do your own sifting. And there’s always a risk that you choose the advice that challenges you least. But at the end of the day I’m the one who has to choose how I live my life and what paths I follow in pursuit of personal growth. Not having a clear path laid out can be confusing, and sometimes (especially in difficult times) demoralising, but mostly I wouldn’t have it any other way!

A naturalistic spirituality

I occasionally describe myself as a spiritual atheist. Slightly oxymoronic, but it expresses something important about my aspirations and beliefs.

Essentially I share many of the aspirations of people who are on spiritual journeys, but I have a fundamentally naturalistic worldview. I seek to grow in honesty and compassion, knowledge of myself and openness to others. I would love to live in a world in peace and in harmony. The language and the stories of people on journeys of spiritual and personal development have a lot of resonance for me. And I would love to be able to believe in miracles, in supernatural ways of healing our hurting world. But when I look into the claims for the divine or the supernatural, I find they have very shaky foundations – too shaky to rest my hopes for a better world on.

For example, while the demonstrations against the Iraq war were going on, I was sitting on a hillside pouring my heart and soul into meditations that, I had been told, would do more to prevent the war than physically joining the demonstrations. I’ve changed my mind since then. Joining them might not have achieved much. But I would prefer to make a small contribution that was definitely connected to the systems of the world, rather than trying to influence events through a mental/spiritual process I had no confidence was doing anything at all.

More recently I’ve come into contact with new age ideas, of energy healing and so on. I’ve been strongly drawn to the beautiful possibilities, but the deeper I look the more illusory they seem. I feel sure that the proponents of these systems are acting in good faith, but to me they are in danger of doing nothing, or even doing harm, because they aren’t checking the foundations of their belief systems carefully enough. I wrote in an earlier post evidence, bio-energetic fields and alternative medicine about some of the problems I’ve come across.

I think it’s often the strength of the compassion of these people that makes them want to believe that their hopes are true. I sympathise, because I want to believe these things too. But on the basis of the evidence I’ve seen I just can’t share their hopes.

Becoming a better person and working for a better world would both be much easier with some divine or supernatural assistance. But I’d prefer to find my own way, based on the best evidence I can find for how the world works, rather than rely on a deus that may never emerge from his or her machina!

Things I have learnt

I have learnt so many things from the break-up. It has been acutely painful – but when I think of what I have learnt, it hurts less. In a strange way I find myself almost grateful to the person who taught me these difficult but very necessary lessons.

1. My emotions are part of me, whether they are painful or joyful. Being ashamed of my emotions, or feeling constrained to suppress them or direct them, cuts me off from myself and my instinctive wisdom.
2. Communication is the heart of a relationship. Of course everyone needs space to think things through in their own time, but if so it should be possible to take that space in a loving way, offering reassurance and explanations. Particularly when things are difficult between you. Because if one of you finds communication with the other difficult or detrimental, then the relationship is in serious trouble, and not talking about these problems will just make it worse. Running away solves nothing.
3. Nobody likes to see their partner cry, particularly if it’s in any way related to them. But no partner who is worth having, or genuinely loves you, prefers you to cry alone so that they don’t have to see your distress.
4. Being honest with yourself is the heart of growing as a person. Being honest with others is the heart of having meaningful relationships. But being honest with others also makes you vulnerable – if you spill your soul to someone who’s not ready to hear it, they can hurt you very badly, even without intending to. Always be truthful with yourself, but be careful about who you’re honest with. Be particularly careful of those who demand honesty, but refuse to hear your truth if it contradicts what they believe, or want to believe.
5. Try to always express your own truth – in your actions even if you choose not to explain why. If you’re right and you don’t act on it, you lose part of yourself. If you’re wrong and you don’t act on it, you lose the opportunity to learn that you were wrong.
6. Be careful what you take into your mind. Much of the advice given in personal development courses and self help books is subjective and unfounded. Even when it’s good advice, personal development is a gradual process, and can’t be rushed. Avoid judging yourself when you can’t live up to these standards immediately. And definitely avoid people and partners who expect you to do this.
7. It’s good to consider how you are responsible for a problematic situation before you consider others’ responsibility. But if you consider only your own faults and weaknesses, your self esteem will suffer. It will suffer even worse if you’re with someone who tends to consider your faults before considering theirs.
8. When partners are in vulnerable states physically or mentally, it’s tempting to attempt to deny your own needs in order to attend to theirs. But that’s dangerous for you, and often unhelpful for them too. You may need to find a different way to meet your needs, but never deny that they exist.
9. Openness and trust are crucial for a relationship to work, but that does not mean abandoning your watchfulness or your defences. The more vulnerable you are allowing yourself to be, the more you need to be ready to protect yourself if your partner does not respect that vulnerability.
10. Loving relationships are wonderful and dangerous – seek them out, but choose very carefully.

Personal development

I’ve been wondering why the story I quoted in my previous post about inner and outer predators had so much resonance for me.

For me it’s about some damaging principles that are often misleadingly promoted as “personal development”. Like the idea that complete self-sufficiency is desirable. That being upset means you’re giving in to your fears. That painful emotions are to be avoided.

Of course dependence, fear and painful emotions are good to avoid when you can. But some forms of personal development just have the effect of making you feel worse when they turn up! It is dangerous to be told that it is possible to get through life without pain if you follow the simple principles of the religion/program. Dangerous, because then when life does throw a painful situation at you, the pain is made worse by the fact that you judge yourself for not living up to these “principles”. And it’s even worse when someone else tries to apply these principles to you and rejects you for failing to live up to these ideals.

For my version of this story is also about two very different men who pushed me to apply those principles to myself to a negative extreme. With good intentions, but nevertheless harmful effects. But it’s also about the part of me that willingly took on board those principles and scoured my soul with them.

I’ve tried several different sorts of personal development so far, and I have come to the conclusion that the only way to develop sustainably and authentically is just through living life!

Religions and personal development courses offer “short-cuts”, through prayer, meditation or various new-age attunements and so on. And for someone who’s impatient with their own imperfections, it’s so tempting! But my experience now seems to confirm what my instincts have been trying to tell me all along – short cuts just end up messing you up faster. You end up trying to integrate the perceptions of others into your world view, and they may be the wisest words ever, but they can’t be a substitute for developing your own wisdom.

Sitting on your own doing exercises or meditations on your “issues” around intimacy, needs, giving or fears may help in one way or another. But it seems simpler and better just to engage, openly and honestly, with whatever issues the people and events in your life are bringing you right now.

The “personal development” I’ve been through just seems to have cluttered up my mind with other people’s thoughts, which often turn into judgements. The learning that helps me seems to have come almost entirely from just getting on with living my life.

Maybe not all personal development is like that… but there’s enough bad stuff out there that I have resolved to be very, very careful when deciding what I allow into my mind in future.