Monthly Archives: June 2014

The unfolding of things

One of the things I always say is that things will unfold as they should. I’m obviously not the only one who says this and I’m certainly not the originator of that idea. The phrase actually comes from Max Ehrmann’s 1927 devotional poem called Desiderata (which is the Latin word for ‘desired things’). If you’re a child of the ’60s or even ’70s, you will be familiarly with this poem. You (or your parents) might have had the poem on a poster, t-shirt, fridge magnet, toilet seat cover, embroidered tea cozy, or hand painted wall mural.

ImageTo this day, you can buy parchment versions of the poem with its iconic illuminated letter G (Go placidly…”), like it was written by some lonely, half blind medieval monk. Desiderata is part of the canon of my childhood. Suffice to say, it was the anthem of a generation.

The passage in question goes thus:

You are a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the
Universe is unfolding as it should.

Interestingly, the poem was never famous in Ehrmann’s lifetime. It’s as though he wrote it in preparation for another time…yet to come. A time when people would begin asking questions, challenging tradition and, most importantly, recognizing that self-worth was a birth right. It seems he wrote it for the dawn of the Age of Aquarius. Desiderata, written before the Great Depression, is eerily enlightened. Even more bewildering is that Ehrmann was a lawyer…a profession in which waxing poetic about the soul and destiny is unorthodox (and unexpected) to say the least. He was also 54 when he wrote the poem. This fact is only interesting in that it gives me hope that fame is possible in later life.

Desiderata ended up on spoken word records in the 70s, the oddest of which may be a recording by Leonard Nimoy on his 1968 album entitled Two Sides of Leonard Nimoy. I kid you not. If you search YouTube, you’ll find a number of readings, but I highly recommend the version read on SpokenVerse’s channel.

So, that’s where the saying comes from…but what do we mean when we say it? I’ve heard atheist, agnostic and believer alike utter these words. How can they all believe it’s true…that all things will unfold as they should? Because to utter these words is to believe that there is an order to everything we do that ultimately ‘works out.’ Somebody or something’s got a plan, in other words.

It’s as though life is a huge box of puzzle pieces and they magically fit themselves together as we progress through life. We often try to do the puzzle solving ourselves, to no avail. Why? Because we can’t see the big picture..literally. I’m talking about the one on the puzzle box of the whole image. That’s what you use to help complete the puzzle, to organize pieces and gauge your progress.

That, my friends, is the kicker. We do not know how we fit into the grande scheme. Are we an edge (very handy!), an obvious detail we can identify and place quickly, or an amorphous shaped colour among a hundred others?

More than that though, we tell ourselves and each other that things will unfold as they should to comfort ourselves against the horrible realization that there is very little in life we can actually control. Random events are destabilizing. I wrote in a previous post about choices and how one small choice can create a cascade of huge consequences. I think about the woman in Quebec who stopped her car to help some ducklings across the road. A motorcyclist speeding from behind didn’t stop in time. He and his passenger were killed and the woman who stopped her car to do something kind is now (unbelievably) facing life in prison. One choice.

As I think about that poor woman, I wonder how this is life unfolding as it should. Why ‘should’ this happen. What larger purpose does this tragedy serve? What will “unfold” as a result?

The other kicker is that we can’t make sense of the events except by looking in the rear view mirror. It’s only then that we can see how decisions and events conspired to create meaning. Knowing gives us evidence. And evidence, girls and boys, is comfort. Evidence is the antidote to superstition and delusion.

The idea that things unfold as they should (not necessarily as we want) does give me comfort. I like knowing that order trumps chaos. I like knowing that there is cosmic purpose to everyday choices and events. I like knowing that I’m playing a role in this giant puzzle…even though I’ll never know what that role is until the time comes for me to see the puzzle box.

Jimmy Stewart’s character got a preview in It’s a Wonderful Life. He got to see how it all fit together. He saw that he wasn’t a cog, but the hub around which an entire town turned. It made all the difference. I envy him that gift.

It makes me wonder: if you could see the role you’ve played in the grand scheme of things, how would that affect you going forward, if at all? Would you be more mindful of your choices? Would you be paralyzed by second guessing your choices? Would you feel unburdened, knowing that you were needed…that without you, the puzzle would remain unfinished.

Ultimately, I believe that our lives are about fulfilling our purpose in the puzzle. We may achieve that purpose quickly or it may take a hundred years. In any event, when we’ve done our part, we leave the field, climb to the top of the stadium and look down at what we’ve helped build. The knowing will be joyous…because we will see, finally, that we were essential to life. And that everything indeed unfolded as it should.

**dedicated to Jody Lundell and Laurie Barnstable, whose contributions to life are much and many**

Wishful choices and the irony of happiness

 

One of the essential and basic actions that define the human experience is the power to choose. Agency. Self-determination.

Choices. We make them every day. In fact, we make thousands of them every day. We make what I call “nano-choices” – those choices so minuscule and seemingly inconsequential that we can’t even remember making them. Cross our legs. Turn a page. Change a channel. Add more salt. These are all choices. Small, minute.

There are then larger choices: micro-choices. Still small, but somewhat more noticeable. Toast instead of cereal. Blue shirt rather than black. This route to work rather than that. Day-to-day choices that represent the operation of life. Often, we only remember making these choices when something out of the ordinary happens. If we get in a car accident, for example, we revisit the route choice we made earlier. If we’d chosen to leave home five minutes earlier…or later…we would have avoided the accident. Right?

Naturally, there are milestone choices: buying a house or a car. Getting married. These choices serves as sign posts in life. You remember when they happened, where you were, who else was there.

Then…there are the macro-choices. There aren’t many. Choosing whether to accept treatment for a terminal disease is a macro choice. Choosing to remove a loved one from life support. Choosing to escape an abusive relationship. Choosing to step into harm’s way to help someone in peril. You see the pattern here. Macro-choices are life and death.

Though you may never have articulated any of this, as you read through the above paragraphs, you likely nodded. Added a few of your own examples.

But then there are choices we try to make…but do not succeed in implementing. We want to eat better, be more active, stop smoking, stop drinking, watch less TV. We choose to be better…and yet we also choose to ignore that choice. We debate. Argue. Bargain. Finagle. Trade. With ourselves. We embark on an internal dialogue to stop us from making a choice that will improve our lives.

Makes. No. Bloody. Sense.

What should we call these choices? The ones we want to make (do we? really?) and yet cannot implement? Let’s call them “wishful choices” – like wishful thinking.

We even set start dates and deadlines for our wishful choices: “Starting tomorrow, I’m going to ….” We feel sure, grounded, hopeful. Yet when the deadline appears…we fail to exercise that choice. And so it goes: want the choice, schedule the choice, fail to implement the choice, experience self-loathing, repeat.

You’ve no doubt noticed that these choices are usually connected to compulsive or addictive behaviours. You’re going to quit drinking (you don’t). You’re going to exercise more (you don’t). You’re going to eat better (Three guesses. The first two don’t count).

Here’s the truth no one will tell you or admit to: no one ACTUALLY wants to succeed at their wishful choice. In reality, we all just want to continue with the behaviour without experiencing the negative consequences. That’s what we really want. And we keeping trying to skip out on, elude, get past, sneak by the consequences. We never, ever, do. Never.

And, by we, I mean me.

I have my share of addictive peccadillos, trust me. My brain simultaneously coaxes me act on an addictive behaviour and then berates me for doing so. It’s a hellish existence inside my head.

And, when I hear other women talk about their issues — and women have at least one behaviour they ‘just can’t control’ — I hear the same phenomenon.

My beloved former-psychologist, Rosa, doesn’t like the use of battle metaphors when it comes to “wishful choices.” She believes the use of the language creates the reality. Maybe she’s right. She’s a believer of awareness, mindfulness and non-judgment. It’s amazing how hard those things are when I make a decision and then do the exact opposite. No one judges me more harshly than I judge myself. Full stop. You’re nodding again. You too?

I hope you’re not expecting an answer here. I ain’t Oprah “I’ve figured out everything” Winfrey. I’m just a fellow traveller.

What does seem clear in all this is that brain science is at work. The neural wiring for addictive behaviour must be powerful mojo. Think about it: if you’ve always usImageed food, for example, to calm your nerves and comfort yourself, then your brain has hard wired that connection in. Eating = no anxiety. Powerful association!

We also know from brain science that the more an activity is repeated, the more space in the brain the wiring for that activity takes up. So, trying to do something different isn’t just about choice…it’s a neurological David and Goliath battle between the little desire to change and the huge, hardwired neural network that is the established behaviour. (Read Norman Doidge’s fabulous book The Brain that Changes Itself to learn more about this.You’re welcome.) It’s not a fair fight in many respects.

AND YET…we know that some people are able to create significant, sustained change in their lives. How? It’s not just willpower, I can tell you that for sure. Willpower is like a match: it burns brightly and is spent easily. Willpower is not enduring. So…what is the enduring ingredient that makes sustained – even permanent – change possible for some? Don’t look at me…I have no fucking idea.

Nope, I have no answer to this question 0f wishful choice…a question that has vexed me my entire adult life. Is the answer in self-discipline (another elusive word. Don’t get me started), in prayer, meditation or pharmaceuticals? All of the above? Or are we more fixed than we realize. Is there a point at which we are what we are and no amount of effort or wishful thinking can change that? Every day, I edge more toward that conclusion. If it’s true…it creates a whole other set of questions. Perhaps the most compelling of these is: if our behavioural development is largely fixed at some point, what purpose will self-loathing have in our lives? Would it become obsolete?

This thought exposes a huge cosmic irony: if there were no ‘ideal’ way of being to aspire to or wish for, would our only recourse be to love and accept ourselves as we are?

Could abandoning “wishful choices” be one of the keys to happiness? Stick THAT thought up your jumper and see if it itches.

Discuss.