Evolution of the Self

His "Biological Cock": On Three Decades of Collecting Freudian Slips (Part 2 or 7)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 18:29:09 +0000

Most Memorable Freudian Slips

In the first part of this post, I mentioned that most of the amusing verbalizations I've encountered over the years were not, strictly speaking, Freudian slips. That is, they didn't necessarily unveil a client's repressed thoughts or emotion. Rather, they were "bloopers"--unintentionally ludicrous mistakes: such as an obese client's saying, "I don't want to picnic over this [vs. nitpick]." Or unusually descriptive coinages, like the client who described a vociferous shouting match with her husband as a "screamathon."

Below, however, are some examples of verbalizations that clearly do deserve the designation of Freudian Slip:

• I once worked with a couple where the extremely aggressive husband harbored enormous anger and resentment toward his emotionally abused wife. In the session, he wanted to appear cooperative, and even eager, to construct a more positive relationship between them. But the attitude he projected hardly seemed conciliatory. At one point, staring (glaring?!) at his wife--and in a tone that might be described as "hostile appeasement"--he raised his voice and demanded: "Tell me what I can do to make things difficult! (he had, of course, meant to say ". . . different").

To me, this is a perfect example of the "shadow side" of one's personality determining on its own--that is, without the ego's permission--to step right into the spotlight and vocalize the antagonism that the conscious mind has assiduously sought to conceal.

• This example--which inspired the X-rated title for this post--represents the only time a client of mine was clearly aware of his slip. He burst into unrestrained laughter as soon as he'd recognized his unintended, indecorous disclosure. (And I gave myself permission to laugh heartily as well--the only time I can remember actually allowing myself in a session to "let go" like that.) Talking about his powerful sex drive and that, unfortunately, his libido was far stronger than his wife's, he wondered aloud whether getting older might be the only solution to his continuing frustrations. Maybe in time, he reflected, he simply wouldn't have the same forever-nagging, carnal appetites, which frequently caused him so much annoyance and irritation with his wife--whom he wished would be much more accommodating of his libidinous needs. Maybe, finally, it would all be resolved by-as he put it-his "biological cock" (vs. "clock"). Violating in the moment his own sense of decorum, he quite explicitly identified the exact source (or organ!) of his discontent.

• Okay, embarrassing as it is, this one I was guilty of. Counseling a woman who came in one hot, summer day wearing an unusually short, flaming red skirt with sandals and no stockings, I found her skimpy attire more than a little provocative. Inasmuch as her issues didn't involve flirtatiousness as such, or beguilingly leading men on--or anything else that might allow me (therapeutically, that is) to comment on her physical presentation--I decided I needed to eliminate from consciousness any and all attention to what I had to conclude was her innocently "seductive" appearance.

At one point (and despite myself--apparently still distracted by how she was adorned), I spoke to her about how she had successfully "sidestepped" an issue. But, alas, I heard myself say "side-skirted" instead! What I'd consciously decided to ignore had "slipped out" all on its own. And I had to marvel at the coincidence that I could have talked about her "skirting" the issue, but somehow managed to stay away from what might in the moment have felt like giving myself away. So I used (or at least meant to use) the word "sidestep" . . . except that's not how it came out. (As a postscript, I might add that the client didn't seem to notice my blunder at all--and fortunately, I don't blush that easily!--so the session proceeded undisturbed.)

• The last example I add as a sort of addendum, since it didn't occur in my therapy office at all. Still, I can hardly imagine a more embarrassing occasion for such a "blooper." And of all the Freudian slips ever shared with me, this undoubtedly was the most remarkable. Here it is:

When I was an English professor, a just-hired junior colleague of mine confided in me this dismayingly comical (or comically dismaying) tale. The situation was this: a senior professor (along with his wife) had established a custom of inviting over for dinner faculty members new to the department. As was probably true in the past for other fresh academic recruits, the evening felt strained and awkward. This much older, tenured professor--even though he undeniably had a good heart--was rather "stiff and starchy," not able to project much in the way of warmth, friendliness, or caring.

At the conclusion of what my colleague experienced as a challenging (and somewhat tedious) evening, he searched upon departure for the most gracious thing he could possibly say to his hosts. And he came up with a perfectly appropriate line: "Thank you for your hospitality." However, presumably in a state of fatigue, something in his brain must have misfired. For, when the moment arrived, he was mortified to hear himself utter the words, "Thank you for your hostility (!)." (Not to worry, though--many years later, despite his king-size gaffe, he was awarded tenure anyway.)

Note 1: The five successive parts to this extended, seven-part post will cover "Verbal Screw-Ups" and "Forms of Words Never Heard Before," "Idiomatic Screw-Ups," "Unconscious Hilarity," "Linguistic Creativity," and "Client Wit." To receive immediate notification when each of these segments is published, please consider subscribing to my RSS feed (see orange radio signal icon on upper right-hand side of page, below my image).

Note 2: I invite all readers to follow my reflections and musings on Twitter.

His "Biological Cock": Three Decades of Collecting Freudian Slips (Part 1)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 14:43:00 +0000

In 1978 I resigned a tenured position as an English professor to pursue a doctorate in psychology. But in shifting my focus from literature to the human psyche, I discovered that my lifelong interest in language and creative expression scarcely waned at all. In fact, I found that my sensitivity to diction, style, and rhetoric prompted me to pay particular attention to the unique vocalizations of my therapy clients.

Listening intently over the years to the people I've worked with has enabled me to understand more than at times they could explicitly communicate. But more than that, as a lifelong student of the English language, I couldn't help but also be sensitive to peculiarities, or flubs, in their speech--"bloopers" that occasionally revealed more than they consciously realized. And even when their verbal slip-ups didn't betray deeper meanings, they frequently carried (for me, at least) an "entertainment value" I couldn't deny--though, of course, I never felt free to share my amusement with them.

After all, it's essential that clients experience their therapist as taking them seriously (though maybe not literally, for many clients aren't always able to express their thoughts or feelings accurately, so I'm frequently cast in the role of "translator"). And while I believe I take my clients very seriously, still--when they say something like "I want to tell you, off the collar . . ." (vs. "off the cuff")--I can hardly resist chuckling internally. I can't remember ever having corrected a client when they misspoke this way, or even permitted myself to grin in amusement--for I'd never want them to feel embarrassed or self-conscious about their speech . . . or, for that matter, distract them from what they were attempting to convey.

But (innocently, I hope) I have in the moment allowed myself to enjoy what I could only appreciate as the unintentional hilarity of some of their utterances. Take the client who, to ensure his sobriety, had attended Alcoholics Anonymous meetings for many years, even though there were some things about the program that--as he put it--he "just couldn't swallow" (!). And I'd be remiss here if I didn't add that in mindfully listening to everything I say in the therapeutic dialogue, I've at times caught myself making verbal errors hardly less ludicrous than the gaffes my clients unwittingly committed.

For over thirty years now, I've kept (secret from my clients!) an ongoing list of verbal curiosities I've been witness to. Typically, they represent verbal goof-ups I found so striking that they temporarily hijacked my professional attention. But many of the utterances capturing my consideration did so not because they were unintentionally comical but, on the contrary, because they displayed uncommon wit or creativity. They were, in the best sense of the term, novel verbalizations that demonstrated the individual's ability to word something in a way that was particularly--sometimes surprisingly--poignant.

When, for example, a woman shared with me how her hurt had "calloused into resentment," the English professor in me immediately wanted to assign her an "A+". And when another client told me how--finally!--she had confronted her husband (who was lamely justifying his latest gratuitous outburst against her by claiming he was "only ventilating"), I could only gasp at her cleverly worded retort. Looking at him right in the eye, she protested: "You don't ventilate, you venomate!"

What I'd like to do in this extended, seven-part post is to enumerate my all-time favorite client locutions. Most of these are clearly gaffes (we might call them "verbal crimes and misdemeanors"). But as I've already indicated, some of them aren't linguistic transgressions at all but rather surprisingly innovative uses of language. With so many examples of each available, I've sought to group them into seven sections--though, I must admit, some of my selected categories may well teeter on the arbitrary or capricious.

I should also admit that the very title of this piece--indecorous, impish (and, for some tastes no doubt, vulgar or raunchy)-- is itself misleading. To be perfectly honest, I chose it mostly as an attention-grabber, even though the phrase "biological cock" is a genuine--even classic--Freudian slip (which I'll explain later). Mostly, though, the verbal "breaches" I'll be presenting aren't really Freudian slips at all, at least not in the strict sense of that term.

That is, a true Freudian slip pertains to a verbal error that betrays some repressed thought or emotion (frequently sexual). As such, it reveals the speaker's (or writer's) subconscious mind. As one contributor to urbandictionary.com, somewhat belaboringly puts it: it's "a verbal or written flub-up in which one says what one really meant, rather than what one meant to say, by accidentally adding or subtracting a word or substituting a similar word that means something that indicates what one really thinks." To offer just one (humorous) example from the Web: "How many Freudians does it take to change a light bulb? Two! One to change the bulb, and one to hold the penis! . . . Ladder! I meant ladder!"

Most of my examples of verbal quirks and goof-ups don't--at least not technically--make the cut for such slips-of-the-tongue accidentally disclosing one's secret thoughts, feelings, or fantasies. Rather, they follow the term's more popular usage and relate simply to verbal creations that in the moment unexpectedly "jolted" me--whether in startled surprise, bewilderment, unforeseen delight, or even marveling admiration.

So when, for instance, out of nowhere one of my clients reflectively began a statement with the words, "Never having been this old before . . ." I sprang to full attention, anticipating that he was about to say something laden with personal meaning. Then--a split second later--simultaneously amused and bemused, I caught myself thinking, "Wait a minute!--he's not really saying anything that's not always true, and for all of us. . . . Yet what impressive rhetoric to have made me lean forward in my chair so as not to miss a word of what I was about to be told!

Note 1: Later parts of this post will exemplify the broad variety of clients' verbal idiosyncrasies that have supplied me with many moments of unexpected wonder and delight. The various sections are entitled: "Most Memorable Freudian Slips," "Verbal Screw-Ups, "Forms of Words Never Heard Before," "Idiomatic Screw-Ups," "Unconscious Hilarity," "Linguistic Creativity," and "Client Wit."

I look forward to sharing them with you--and, hopefully, also providing you with some of the "innocent pleasure" I myself have enjoyed being privy to them. To receive immediate notification when each of these seven parts is published, please subscribe to my RSS feed (see orange radio signal icon on upper right part of page, below my image ).

Note 2: I invite interested readers to follow my psychological/philosophical musings on Twitter.

Shameful or Shameless--If You Had to, Which Would You Choose?

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:03:04 +0000

If you feel shameful--or have what's called a "shame-based identity"--you believe that your very essence is dishonorable, even disgraceful. And frankly, I can think of almost nothing more painful than to go through life harboring such censorious thoughts about oneself. So answering the question posed in the above title should be a no-brainer. Better shameless than shameful, right?

Well, maybe not. The connotations of both terms are so unambiguously negative that I myself would have to pause before choosing either. After all, there's much to be said for the maxim: "Of two evils, choose neither." What I'd like to address in this post are not only some crucial distinctions between "shameful" and "shameless," but also how the former can feed into the latter--how a person's shamelessness might actually be viewed as a curious "adaptation" to, or escape from, underlying feelings of shame.

Where does a shame-based identity come from anyway? The short answer here is that if, when you were growing up, your caretakers regularly criticized your behavior as shameful, it would be almost impossible not to internalize this unfavorable view of yourself. Unfortunately, as children--particularly young children--we can't help but accept our parents' authority to judge us. So if we're routinely evaluated negatively by them, we're extremely likely to adopt such a harsh evaluation as our own.

Hence the term "shame-based identity," meaning simply that we identify who we are in accordance with such detrimental parental messages. Having been invalidated or degraded by our caretakers, we'll feel unworthy, not good enough--that our words and deeds are almost inherently objectionable (though we may never be able to grasp exactly why). Coming to assume that we're somehow blameworthy at our core, we may be doomed to spend the majority of our lives struggling to justify our existence. Or to drown out our shame through some mind- or mood-altering addiction. Or "externalize" our feelings of inadequacy by constantly being angry with, or finding fault with, others. Or, hopelessly resigned to our shame, passively sink into the morass of chronic depression. . . . Or, we may become shameless.

So just what is "shamelessness"? And how do we distinguish it from shamefulness? Some people, confusedly, believe the two concepts are really identical, that a shameful act and a shameless one are basically the same thing. And as these two words relate to behavior--rather than to personality or character--they are roughly synonymous. To say one's behavior is "shameful" is to say that it's base, contemptible, corrupt, ignominious, immoral, indecent, scandalous--even diabolical. Similarly, to call behavior "shameless" is to attack it as audacious, brassy, indecent, depraved, improper, outrageous, profligate, wanton--and downright sinful. In complementary ways, both terms would seem to represent the opposite of all that's good, decent, and principled.

But on the other hand, what are we to make of the fact that shameful plainly means "full of shame," whereas shameless clearly denotes "less" shame (or in fact no shame at all--as in "thoughtless" or "emotionless)? What I'd like to suggest--and it's something I've yet to see addressed in the literature--is that certain individuals who are full of shame because they grew up with parents who routinely discredited and reproached them (maybe even by repeatedly telling them: "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!") can get into the habit of acting shamelessly so as, quite literally, to experience less shame. In fact, I regard most shameless behavior as a cover-up for deeper feelings of shame, which the individual is either too scared or too defended to confront.

All this is similar to pathological narcissism in which the individual, though still saddled with deep feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness, nonetheless displays rampant arrogance and a sense of entitlement. I once worked with a classic narcissist who experienced great difficulty in sustaining healthy relationships. At one point, he proclaimed (and proudly, at that!): "In this world, there are two kinds of people--‘givers' and ‘takers.' And I'm a ‘taker.'" I remember my immediate reaction at the time, thinking: "How can he say this? If I felt this way, I certainly wouldn't want anybody to know about it."

But this is simply how shameless people (many of whom are quite narcissistic) relate to others. In the desperate need to assess themselves positively--and to validate themselves to others--they share (and without any perceptible sense of shame) things that others would typically regard as shameless, and therefore take pains to hide. In their efforts to justify themselves, behavior commonly seen as presumptuous, brash, or outrageous is presented by them as altogether reasonable and defensible--even righteous. In their efforts to overcome old feelings of shame, they've managed (with a success that can be truly alarming!) to subdue any qualms about the responsibility of their behavior. No apologies are necessary, for they don't really feel they've said or done anything wrong.

Abhorrent? . . . Odious? . . . Outrageous? . . . Well, of course. But there's little doubt that for these individuals such brazenness--or better, "unashamedness"--confirms their specialness. Having convinced themselves that their behaviors are well within their rights, they can heedlessly trample on the rights of others. All in the conviction that their personal wants and needs are more important.

Moreover, to be shameless--as opposed to shameful--is also to be guiltless. For in their assuming superiority over others (unconsciously, to dispossess themselves of buried feelings of inferiority), they see themselves as entitled to push their way (as it were) to the front of the line. Having once felt small, unimportant, and possibly demeaned and humiliated as well, their massively constructed defense system now enables them to feel "privileged." They can experience themselves almost as above the law, and certainly beyond the court of public opinion. These are the individuals who, when convicted of trespassing on others' rights--of having acted in flagrant disregard of their fellow humans--may demonstrate little, if any, remorse. And shamelessness, at its irremediable worst, is just one of many traits keying into the diagnosis of anti-social personality disorder.

It should be obvious, then, that it's extremely difficult to respect anyone who, in the need to feel better about themselves, replaces feelings of shamefulness with words and deeds that are irrefutably shameless. But it can be useful to at least comprehend where such unenviable--and reprehensible--shamelessness comes from. So let me conclude this piece by saying not "better to be shameless than shameful," but rather "better to work on (and hopefully resolve) feelings of shamefulness so we're not later impelled toward shamelessness." And if it's already been suggested to us that we're afflicted with this social/psychological handicap, then we need to consider working with a professional who might help us learn how to love and accept ourselves without having to turn our back on others, or use them to enhance our own (basically fragile) sense of self-worth.

Undeniably, we're all motivated to act in ways that make us feel good about ourselves. But affirming our value through treating others as objects to enhance our self-esteem is hardly the best way to accomplish this most fundamental of human pursuits.

Note 1: To be notified of my future posts, please subscribe to my RSS feed (see orange radio signal icon at top right of page, below my image).

Note 2: I invite readers to follow my psychological musings on Twitter.

Reality as a Horror Movie: The Case of the Deadly Sweat Lodge (Part 2)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:25:41 +0000

Self-Transformation . . . or Self-Delusion?

The notion of instantaneous transformation can be enormously seductive to Westerners, almost always in a hurry to finish things and see results. Ray actually encourages such impatience by advertising his short-term retreats as experiences that will alter participants' lives forever. All they need do is pay an (exorbitant) fee and do exactly what he tells them to.

But to realize our most cherished goals, can we successfully move beyond our assorted physical ailments and psychological dysfunctions merely through "transformative" thinking, positive visualizations, and boundary-breaking behaviors? The short answer here is, simply, no. We all have our particular limits, and it's essential that we learn both to recognize--and respect--them.

Not that there isn't some truth in the slogan "mind over matter," for to some degree we can transcend certain everyday constraints once we revise our inaccurate self-perceptions. When, that is, we harbor negatively distorted views of our capabilities (or otherwise doubt or underestimate ourselves), we'll seriously limit our potential. In which case any growth experience that helps us to see how we artificially constrict ourselves can be invaluable. Nonetheless, many of our limitations aren't "transcendable"--are, in fact, absolute. If we ignore these hard-wired limits in our "operating system"--such as seeking to survive in sub-zero temperatures without adequate protective clothing or shelter--first we'll get frostbite, and then (if we remain in the freezing cold long enough) we'll surely perish.

This is but one obvious example of countless physical limits that are, finally, non-transcendable. And instances of commensurate mental restrictions are equally plentiful. Not all of us have--or will ever have--the brain power to grasp Einstein's Theory of Relativity, Quantum Physics, or Chaos Theory. Or solve abstruse mathematical problems. Or write accomplished novels. Or become an architect, chemist, physician, or rocket scientist. And we have all sorts of built-in emotional limitations as well. But the key point here is that every one of us is limited by our biology or genetics in ways we really can't change.

Our job, therefore, isn't to transcend ourselves but to come to terms with--and fully accept--our inborn handicaps. If we're 5'5", we need to make our peace with the fact that we'll never play for the Lakers. If we're obese, no amount of training will enable us to run a 4-minute mile. If our I.Q. is 95, then (without superlative connections, at least!) we'll never get into Harvard (let alone teach there). And if we exited the womb unusually "high strung" (as in, made anxious by the slightest threat or mishap), we'll never be able to function well working in an emergency room.

James Ray--featured in the wildly successful film and book, The Secret, and later on such prominent talk shows as Oprah Winfrey and Larry King--is one of those zealous proponents of the dangerously simplistic belief that whatever in our mind's eye we persistently visualize as happening eventually will happen, that our very will can make it happen. And, admittedly, such an ideology is not totally false, in the sense that there is much to be said for positive thinking and a "can do" attitude. But assuming that--by sheer force of intention or will--anyone can realize their fondest dreams, completely ignores the fact that within any particular individual certain limits are in fact absolute.

Rather, "liberated" from such relativistic thinking, this so-called "Law of Attraction" maintains that it's all in your mind. Finally, it's mind over everything. Just think about what you desire--and if you persist, sooner or later you'll "attract" it; and the craved object (or objective) will manifest as your new, "self-constructed" reality. (Compare this to the fraudulent Harold Hill of The Music Man, whose "Think Method" alone will enable everyone in the high school band to play music never actually learned but--in this case--heard, in their mind's ear! Magical? Delusional?--really, not much more so than some of the "realization" techniques Ray (and others) routinely disseminate.

To me, this is basically "fairy-tale" thinking--though I've little doubt that this is precisely why The Secret has met with such popular acclaim. For the perennial dream is that somewhere, residing deep within us, is a force (or maybe fairy godmother?) just waiting to be activated, to grant our deepest wishes--if only, that is, we believe. . . .

But the real world can't so easily be ignored. Turn your back on it once too often and it will bite you--and bite you hard (and again, note Ray's audacious attempt to get participants to ignore their limits in his recklessly over-heated, oxygen-scarce sweat lodge). It's like trying to fool Mother Nature. And here Mother Nature can be defined as nothing more than the immutable terms of our mortal existence. If we imbibe poison and don't get treatment, we'll die. Same thing if we fall off a cliff and our head hits the rocks below. Plainly, it doesn't matter what we choose to tell ourselves. In such cases--and countless others--it's really matter over mind. Sure, we can transcend our limits if these limits are largely imaginary. But we can't overcome our essential nature--and certainly not by blithely disregarding it.

To think otherwise isn't just grandiose, it's also foolhardy. And in its rampant narcissism, it's surely pathological as well. Undeniably, the idea of such transcendence is fascinating, wondrous, intriguing, beguiling. But to be so "seduced" is ultimately to be betrayed and deceived. Doubtless, Ray had the magnetism and charisma to literally lead many of his followers to sickness, injury--and even death. But his self-deluded belief system of "No Limits" is still (if I may employ an oxymoron I introduced some 30 years ago) "culpably innocent." That is, for Ray at 51 to be so naïve (and willfully so) about the unalterable framework of human existence--as well as what our bodies can tolerate--seems to me not just sad, but also arrogant in its demagogic presumptions.

And that, ultimately, is the sweat lodge tragedy: That a man who rose from a telemarketing job at AT&T to become the President and CEO of a $10 million dollar plus personal-development empire--a man with virtually no higher education and without any bona fide medical or philosophical credentials--should use (or rather, abuse) his powerful personal appeal to encourage (even pressure) earnest "want-to-believers" to go through the most outrageous endurance test, to put at risk their mortal welfare. In short, to get them to risk everything in the effort to move beyond precisely those limits it's essential we all learn to respect and abide by.

. . . In the end, it can hardly be overemphasized that true transcendence or enlightenment is not--and was never meant to be--an X-Sport.

-----I invite readers to follow my psychological/philosophical/spiritual musings on Twitter.

Reality as a Horror Movie: The Case of the Deadly Sweat Lodge (Part 1)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:51:17 +0000

Horror movies are hardly known for their depth. They may be knee deep in gore, but they're pretty shallow in meaning. Mostly, they're about revenge if (beyond sending chills down your spine) they're about anything at all. The stark tragedy of self-styled guru James Arthur Ray's crudely constructed (and massively overcrowded) sweat lodge is a different "horror story" altogether. Sickening almost all its 60 or so occupants--and finally killing three of them, while hospitalizing 17 others, this "personal growth" experience gone wrong is replete with meaning. What I'd like to explore here are the lessons that I think we can all learn from this unfortunate debacle.

Very briefly, here's a "bare-bones" (as it were) account of what transpired that woeful day on October 8th. Motivational speaker and popular author Ray was leading a six-day "Spiritual Warrior" retreat outside Sedona, Arizona--charging willing registrants a not-very-spiritual fee of up to $9,695 apiece. Among other things, this fee "entitled" enrollees to partake not only in breathing exercises (designed to "awaken" their consciousness) and meditation, but also sleep deprivation and a 36-hour fast. All of which led up to the final, climactic day in which, hours after a desperately needed breakfast buffet, participants were led into a makeshift, poorly ventilated sweat lodge for a purifying ceremony to last no less than two hours (about double the maximum length of traditional native American ceremonies).

With most participants inadequately hydrated and temperatures allowed to rise, reportedly, to as high as 120 degrees, participants began to complain of weakness, lightheadedness, and difficulty breathing--gasping for air, vomiting, and in some cases literally passing out. But Ray, counseling them that their "vision quest" was all about "mind over matter," and that they needed to "push beyond [their supposedly] self-imposed and conditioned borders," urged them not to leave. After all, the very focus of the retreat was about transcending all the limiting beliefs that prevented them from realizing their full potential--for wealth (regularly given top priority by Ray), health, and happiness.

New Age Thought: The Best . . . and the Worst

Now let me provide a metaphysical "backdrop" to explain why, on a deeper level, this unnecessary tragedy was almost inevitable. For achieving self-transcendence--and the utter failure to respect the absolute limits of such transcendence--reflects what I see, in turn, as the best and, unfortunately, the worst of New Age thought.

On the plus side of such theorizing is the practical and spiritual value of many psychological and philosophical ideas linked to this relatively new "tradition" in the West (though having existed for millennia in the East). These ideas include yin-yang or non-dualism (the idea that mind and matter are essentially one, and to view them as distinct is to falsely dichotomize them); the divinity and vital interrelationship of all things; the pivotal importance of self-awareness and living in the moment (or mindfulness); the mind-body connection and the holistic nature of health; and the sacredness of myth, ritual, and community. Also aligned with New Age spirituality are a large variety of mental and physical disciplines designed to assist individuals in achieving higher states of being--such as meditation, chanting, prayer, service to others, studying spiritual literature, yoga, and some of the martial arts (such as tai chi and aikido).

At their worst, however, New Age practices are something else entirely. And this is where, regrettably, I'd place the dangerously oversimplified, enterprising--and frankly, narcissistic--"disciplines" of contemporary gurus like James Ray, who seek to harmonize a thinly veiled materialistic ethic with lofty spiritual ideals. Sadly, in the process, what's ultimately created is a profit-making "new thought" concoction that only degrades the purity of that which (self-interestedly) has been "modernized." (For instance--as many native American elders are now taking the opportunity to stress--charging anyone to participate in a sacred sweat lodge ceremony would be considered sacrilegious.)

In her astute and classic piece "Wisdom and Folly," published in New Age Journal over a decade ago (Jan./Feb. 1997), Elizabeth Lesser--cofounder and senior advisor of Omega Institute--retrospectively highlights both the positive and negative aspects of the New Age movement. While taking pains to describe its many worthwhile contributions (briefly outlined above), Lesser doesn't hesitate to enumerate as well its various "cons" (and I use the word fully cognizant of its double meaning). Some of these "new thought" cons may be summarized as follows: the unwarranted belief that in using 20th century technology, evolution of consciousness can be greatly accelerated (that in a day or week a seeker can be transformed forever); the minimization or outright repudiation of rational, scientific thought in seeking the Truth--substituting for it such supernatural elements as angelic visitations, UFOs, and other mysterious phenomena; the romanticizing of indigenous cultures, gratuitously attributing to, or exaggerating, their superior wisdom or spirituality; and exploiting spiritual traditions--while at the same time misunderstanding (or even betraying) their essence. To quote pointedly from Lesser's article: "Taken out of context, practices such as Native American sweat lodges . . . chanting, or the shamanic use of hallucinogenic plants trivialize powerful and elegant systems of spiritual growth."

It's certainly suggestive that James Ray, similar to his professional and ideological cohort Rhonda Byrne--whose brilliantly conceived instructional film and book, The Secret, have sold over 10 million copies--has little to say about happiness as it derives from devoting oneself to the greater good. Rather, Ray (like Byrne) focuses on a self-discovery that has far less to do with nurturing or serving others than with gratifying one's object-oriented desires (think a home in Beverly Hills [a dream of opulence which Ray himself has turned into reality] or a shiny, new Lamborghini). It's hardly coincidental that "the secret," as it relates specifically to accumulating material wealth, has remained a key ingredient in both their teachings.

From its beginnings, the main complaint about New Age theorizing has been that--particularly in the wrong hands (or self-centered, opportunistic minds)--it can easily deteriorate into something superficial, egocentric, and self-indulgent. And not only does this degradation represent my own key objection to Ray's philosophizing, it also helps explain what, legally, I can view only as his criminal negligence in handling the "Spiritual Warrior" retreat that ended so deplorably (and for which he's presently being investigated). The "limit-stretching" procedures Ray inflicted on his all-too-credulous followers can be seen as grounded in ideas about human evolution and enlightenment as naive as they are shallow.

Similar to other get-rich-quick schemes, James Ray's writings about "transformation" and "self-empowerment" (profound and intricate concepts he evidences only a vague understanding of) seem designed more to "sell" people than to actually illuminate them. And when such a self-help superstar (or anyone else presuming a deeper awareness than they actually possess) deigns to give someone advice about, say, their medical condition based on oversimplified notions of healing, the results can be disastrous--such as telling a late-stage cancer patient it's okay to opt out of their treatment regimen, and instead direct all their attention to the ill-informed notions that provoked their illness.

Note 1: Part 2 of this post goes into much greater detail about James Ray's ideas on self-transformation--as well as how crucial it is for us to learn to appreciate, and abide by, our "un-transcendable" limits.

Note 2: Readers interested in being notified when future posts of mine have been published can subscribe to my RSS feed (see orange radio signal icon at top right of page, below my image).

----I invite all readers to follow me on Twitter.

Disarming Your Buttons: How Not to Get Provoked (Part 4 of 4)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 15:16:02 +0000

• Stopping Trigger Thoughts. "Trigger thoughts" include all your false assumptions and beliefs that lead to getting your buttons pushed. Almost inevitably, these thoughts involve logical fallacies. So internally refuting them isn't really a matter of deluding yourself through glib affirmations, but questioning the unwarranted notions that may in the past have led you to lose your cool.

Below I list seven types of distorted trigger thoughts that can prompt you to overreact. If you're able to change these irrational thoughts, the distressing emotions deriving from them should change as well. Better, the things that formerly provoked you will no longer do so once you've managed to bring a new understanding to them. So here are the different types of button-pushing thoughts--as well as what you can say to yourself to effectively combat them.

1. Shoulds. The logical fallacy here is that your "shoulds" are somehow universal--that what is intelligent, reasonable, or moral for you ought to be for others as well. But as McKay, Rogers, and McKay aptly put it: "Shoulds are your values and needs imposed on someone with different values and needs." So others are unlikely to be persuaded that they're wrong or bad simply because they haven't lived up to your own basically self-interested standards. Consequently, in your revised self-talk you might say such things as: "People don't do what I think they should--just what's rewarding, or reinforcing, for them"; "I can't expect people to act the way I'd act (. . . or as I'd want them to act)"; "Just like me, people do what they're compelled to; or "I really can't blame others for focusing on their own needs, wants, or values."

2. Entitlement Fallacy. This misconception is grounded in the belief that if you really want something, it's only right that you have it (and to comprehend one possible origin of this fallacy, see my earlier posts on "Child Entitlement Abuse"). Such thinking leads you to get your buttons pushed whenever others (as is frequently the case) take exception to your "righteous" expectations and demands. For such demands may not feel at all reasonable to them--may, unjustifiably, be asking them to relinquish their own wants, needs, limits, or boundaries. If somehow this fallacy has become part of your mental programming, you might say to yourself: "Though I may have the right to want something, others have the right to say no"; or "My desiring something doesn't mean that others are obliged to provide it for me"; or "I have my wants and needs, and I need to respect that others do as well."

3. Fallacy of Fairness. Here the falsehood is that there exists a single standard of fairness and--surprise!--it's your own. The fact, however, is that fairness is a completely subjective concept, based on individual wants, needs, principles, expectations, and values. In short, your definition of what's fair is, finally, self-serving (as is everyone else's). So if your buttons have gotten pushed in the past because you thought you were being treated unjustly, here are some things you might say to yourself before your next encounter with someone whose notions of fairness may conflict with your own: "My notions on what's fair don't have any more authority than anyone else's"; "Their needs (or values) are just as legitimate and meaningful to them as mine are to me"; "What I see as fair is mostly just a reflection of my own preferences"; or "It's important that I validate their viewpoint, too, and think about how to negotiate our differences."

4. Fallacy of Change. This idea relates to the unwarranted belief that you can change another's behavior if you just work at it hard enough. But the fact is that people change only when it's rewarding for them to do so and, additionally, when they're capable of it. So to keep your buttons from getting pushed by others who seem unwilling to cooperate with your (we'll suppose) well-meaning directives, think of saying to yourself: "People only change when they're ready to; no sense trying to put pressure on them"; "The support (help, recognition, understanding, etc.) that I'm getting is all they're capable of giving me right now"; or "If I want this person to change, I have to figure out how they'd be more motivated to change--how change would benefit them."

5. Conditional Assumptions. The illogical thinking here pertains to your gratuitously assuming that because the other person disappointed you, they must not care about you. And once you arrive at such an unverified conclusion, you'll start to feel upset--primed to react negatively to them. In such instances, here are some more rational, "corrective" thoughts to consider: "I need to realize that my disappointment with them doesn't necessarily mean they don't care about me"; "It's not that they don't love me (or appreciate, value, respect, trust, empathize with me) me; it's just that their particular needs right now don't coincide with mine"; or "Sure, I'm disappointed--but they still have the right to act according to their own needs."

6. Assumed Intent. Otherwise known as mind-reading, the fallacy here is in assuming that if another person's behavior caused you distress, they must have intended to make you feel this way. And attributing negative motives to their behavior--because, after all, it did hurt or disturb you--is really (if you think about it) what's pushing your buttons. That is, similar to the other irrational assumptions and beliefs I've already described, it's your subjective (and frequently biased) interpretation of others--rather than their behavior per se--that finally makes you lose your cool (or your "blood boil"). So what you need to start doing in your head is formulating such "pre-confrontation" thoughts as: "I won't assume anything; I need to check this out"; "I'm not going to speculate about why they did that"; or "No mind-reading: I'll just ask them what they had in mind when they said (or did) what it was that so annoyed me."

7. Magnifying. If--perversely (!)--you actually want to let someone or something upset your equilibrium, all you have to do is negatively exaggerate the significance of that person's words, or the event that just occurred. Tell yourself that it's "horrible," "disgusting," "outrageous," "terrible"--or even "catastrophic"--and your buttons will get hammered every time. So to de-stress yourself when you're beginning to get upset and need to address the other person clear-headedly, think first of rehearsing to yourself such messages as "This is unpleasant for me, but it's not that awful either"; "I'm not going to get ahead of myself--this thing probably isn't anywhere as bad as I'm assuming"; or "I'm not looking at this accurately (or objectively): yes, it's inconvenient but it's hardly anything to ‘go ape' over either."

Doubtless, this four-part post has given you a lot to digest about the whole subject of button-pushing. And--if you're one who's struggled over the years to control their buttons across a wide variety of situations--possibly a lot to work on as well. But if you're truly motivated to make changes in your life--changes that in all probability you can make--the many suggestions I've offered here could potentially be of great practical assistance to you.

And try to remember that, in the end--even if someone really wanted to push your buttons--they couldn't do so without your consent.

Note: I invite all readers to follow my psychological reflections on Twitter.

Disarming Your Buttons: How Not to Get Provoked (Part 3 of 4)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 15:26:13 +0000

"Inoculating" Yourself Against External Irritants

Part 1 of this post focused on better understanding the origins of your hot buttons, while Part 2 centered on resolving past disturbances that created these buttons in the first place. Now, in the next two parts, it's time to look at ways of preparing yourself in the present to better cope with people and circumstances that still seem to threaten your mental and emotional equilibrium--outward forces that continue to activate your not-yet-disconnected buttons.

No less an author than Albert Ellis has written a book entitled How to Keep People from Pushing Your Buttons (1995). Ellis, the founder of Rational Emotive Therapy (RET)--later revised to Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy (REBT)--posited (similar to cognitive behaviorists) that the only way to alter negative feelings was to alter the thoughts precipitating them. And he viewed the recognition--and alteration--of these thoughts as crucial, for ultimately one's very behavior was triggered by the feelings directly resulting from such thoughts. Simply put: thoughts induce feelings, and feelings induce behavior. To Ellis, no person or thing could--in and of themselves--cause you to react a particular way because it's always your interpretation of the outside stimulus that finally governs your reaction to it.

So to Ellis--as to Aaron Beck, the grandfather of Cognitive Therapy (similarly updated, though perhaps less formally, to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy)--in order to help individuals change, it's essential to help them identify the irrational thoughts, assumptions and beliefs that inevitably culminate in emotional distress and dysfunctional behavior. In many of my previous posts, I've discussed how vital your self-talk is to your psychological welfare. Here I'd like to hone in on just how you need to talk to yourself in tense situations, so that what's provoked you in the past will cease to provoke you--or at least provoke you much less than may formerly have been the case.

As I noted earlier, in Part 2 of this post, anything that's bothered you in the past is likely to bother you in the future--unless, that is, you've come to view it differently, and in a way much less likely to incite you. So, for instance, if you view your spouse's tardiness as a sign of their not much caring about you, then their lack of punctuality is virtually guaranteed to push your buttons. However, if you begin to understand your partner as simply having an enormous problem with time management--realizing that they're late with others quite as much as with yourself, and also that their inability to be ready on time has nothing to do with their actual caring for you (which they may have clearly demonstrated in multiple ways)--then, with such a revised perception, their chronic tardiness is far less likely to upset you. Seeing their personality flaw as meaning something quite different from what you'd previously assumed, you're likely to cut them considerably more slack. And with practice, you might even begin to smile at their being so "punctuality-challenged," now that you're able to see it (more charitably) as a personal shortcoming rather than a personal affront.

There's another cognitive technique, known as covert rehearsal, which is about mentally "practicing" for a possibly difficult encounter by rehearsing it in your head. In your "mind's eye," as it were, you "act out" how you'd like it to go. Such an approach only works, of course, if you possess the insight, emotional poise, and interpersonal skills to make it work. But if in fact you've learned from your past mistakes and, additionally, have acquired the ability to approach the conflict--or potential conflict--differently, it can be invaluable to mentally rehearse how you might handle the current situation so as to maximize the chances of a positive outcome.

If you think about it, it's only good sense to recall a previous confrontation that turned out badly and, after re-playing what you remember about what was said leading up to the stalemate (or worse), picture how you might handle the present (and similar) situation differently. How, for instance, this time you can refrain from "taking the bait"; or exaggerating the importance of some slip-up; or perceiving as just awful the other person's insensitivity; or assuming that their intentions toward you must be malignant; or that you're obligated to defend yourself against any and all criticism. I regularly suggest to clients that when their buttons are in danger of being pushed, the best thing they can do in the moment is, simply, nothing. They only need be aware that they're in imminent danger of "losing it"; and that if they don't "hold their fire," they'll only be adding more fuel to the (potentially) fiery situation. What's really called for in such a situation is to take a deep breath and calm themselves down, and then--and only then--respond to the situation as "strategically" as possible.

Many of the additional suggestions I'll be making below are adapted from When Anger Hurts: Quieting the Storm Within, 2nd ed. by McKay, Rogers, & McKay (2003). These suggestions fit within the general cognitive-behavioral model of Stress Inoculation Training in that this orientation focuses on changing maladaptive feelings and behaviors through altering the thoughts that precede them.

The McKay, Rogers, and McKay cognitive control paradigm encompasses many categories of anger-coping thoughts, and each category includes a variety of self-statements that can help diffuse emotions threatening to get out of hand. The authors advise readers to try out a variety of coping statements within each category to discover which ones, personally, are most likely to be effective. But the whole idea is to plan in advance all the different things you can say to yourself in challenging circumstances, so you'll be able to cope successfully with any possible confrontations (without, that is, getting your buttons pushed). I'll provide a few examples of coping statements (roughly based on the broad variety they offer). Ultimately, however, you may want to choose your own unique words and phrases to best ward off any button-pushers you may need to deal with (especially your spouse!).

Here are the first two categories, as well as some samples of the kinds of self-talk that can assist you in diffusing any possible upset:

• Relaxation Reminders. In preparing for a possible conflict, it's essential that you do everything feasible to put yourself in a relaxed state. If you start out feeling up tight, you'll thereby "up" the chances that the interaction to follow quickly begins to push your buttons. Some useful phrases (or "mantras") to say to yourself include: "Okay, just take a deep breath and relax," "I need to check my body for tension and relax whatever feels tight," "I can stay calm in all this," or "It's time for me to relax and slow things down."

• Reassurance. In psychologically readying yourself for a difficult interaction, you want to give yourself something of a pep talk--to tell yourself that you have the resources to deal with any provocation that might occur. So your "script" here might include such calming statements as: "Though this could upset me, I know how to deal with it," "I can figure out a way to handle this," or "I don't need to get into an argument--I can handle the situation before it escalates."

The final category--"Stopping Trigger Thoughts"--will be the focus of the 4th (and final) part of this post. This category is so crucial that I've divided it into seven segments. For there are at least that many kinds of distorted, button-pushing thoughts to which all of us (at one time or another) are susceptible.

Note: To be privy to my psychological musings, follow me on Twitter.

Disarming Your Buttons: How Not to Get Provoked (Part 2 of 4)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 13:23:30 +0000

Defusing Past Disturbances to De-Activate Present-Day Buttons

The topic of protecting--or even eradicating--your buttons is one that, at least indirectly, I've covered in several earlier posts (see especially, "The ‘I Feel Like a Child' Syndrome," but note as well "The Power to Be Vulnerable, Part 2" and "The Path to Unconditional Self-Acceptance"). And the various methods I've discussed all relate to talking to yourself in such a manner that what was once seen as threatening or hazardous, is now viewed as "no big deal"--as, in a word, manageable. Still, the problem with reactivity is that it can happen in an instant--before, that is, you're able to provide yourself with the self-validation and self-soothing needed to respond judiciously. Again, by definition, when your buttons get pushed, you can't help but react--which is to say, be driven to behave emotionally.

What all this should suggest is that it's critical to identify just what pushes your buttons (or "yanks your chain") to begin with. Otherwise, there's no way you can pinpoint--let alone, work through--those past experiences that now prompt you to overreact to provocations that actually may be more "felt" than real. In fact, it's important to recognize that what incites you isn't necessarily anything that would provoke someone else.

Finally, it may be only because the current-day stimulus unconsciously reminds you of something that upset you weeks, months, years, or even decades ago, that you're compelled to "lose your cool" in the present. But once you can make the required connections between the there-and-then and the here-and-now, you can begin to de-activate those buttons that, till this point, have irrationally taken over your behavior. Once you're able to bring a new and more positive self-understanding to whatever distressing messages about yourself you received--or thought you received--when you were younger (probably much younger), your essential self-image can undergo all kinds of transformative changes.

So what exactly is it that triggers your buttons? And just how do you determine what causes you to become provoked?--what you can't help but react to as an affront, annoyance, indignity, or insult?

Begin by asking yourself: Does this hot button relate to getting criticized? disagreed with? nagged? slighted? scolded? disregarded? ignored? . . . Is it tied to being rebuffed? spurned? made fun of? humiliated? . . . Is it about feeling trifled with? Made to feel weak? inadequate? stupid? Might it be connected to feeling unappreciated? unimportant? devalued? Or maybe taken advantage of? powerless? disrespected? . . . Is it attached to feeling falsely or unfairly accused? distrusted? disapproved of? rejected? Or is being mistakenly perceived as dishonest? guilty? shameful? Or could it be some verbal, or non-verbal, cue suggesting that you're unloved (or--far worse--unlovable)?

Consider making as comprehensive a list as possible of all the different things you can think of that have goaded you into seeing red in the past, that triggered you to instantly defend yourself, or attack the person who (presumably) intended to hurt you--or (as it were) slam the door and "act out" your distress by angrily disengaging from your seeming provocateur entirely. Remember, it's safe to assume that anything powerful enough to have pushed your buttons previously is quite likely to push them again. By now, it's been said countless times that nothing predicts the future better than the past. And the psychological dynamic of button-pushing hardly represents an exception to this familiar adage.

So catalog everything you can think of that incited you in times past. And definitely consider as possibilities the extensive checklist of indignities inventoried above. Unquestionably, you'll find a pattern--whether it's a sensitivity to being criticized, to feeling demeaned or disrespected, to experiencing the other person as devaluing your viewpoint, or even to feeling utterly abandoned or rejected. If you're like most of us, you'll probably discover that you've got considerably more than a single button susceptible to external provocation. And if you're particularly insecure, you may find that you have more vulnerability buttons--or "soft spots"--than, frankly, can easily be enumerated. People characterized by others as "thin-skinned" may well have the most buttons of all.

Once another person hits a nerve deep inside you, there's very little (at least in the moment) that, realistically, you can do. But if, beforehand, you can (1) desensitize yourself emotionally from those past experiences that were originally experienced as deeply threatening, and (2) reassess positively the self-referencing negative meaning these past upsets held for you--that is, reinterpret these disturbing events in a way that is both more accurate and self-validating--then you're well on your way to responding calmly (vs. reacting defensively or angrily) to current-day situations that in the past may have sorely taxed your emotional resources. (And again, my earlier post, "The ‘I Feel Like a Child' Syndrome" goes into considerably greater detail in describing such a self-healing process.)

To the extent that (however unconsciously) you're still programmed to give others the authority to make you feel bad or doubt yourself, you'll instantaneously feel compelled to diminish their power over you by reacting negatively to them. But if you've been able to "update" your self-image by cognitively re-evaluating your past--thereby coming into your own, irrefutable authority as an adult--you'll no longer feel the urgency to react this way. For your emotional equilibrium, shored up by your ability to self-validate and self-soothe, will remain intact.

Even in the face of serious outward challenges, if you've developed an essentially favorable sense of self you won't feel threatened by another's insensitivity, put-downs, or lack of compassion or understanding. For (to put it succinctly) you're no longer dependent on external validation to feel okay about yourself. Your feelings of inner security are now firmly anchored from within. And as a result, if someone says or does something to you that seems unfair or unkind, you're now fully capable of addressing it--or them--in a manner most likely to be effective.

At this point, the other person's once incendiary behavior won't throw you so off-balance that you can no longer keep your cool. Once your fundamentally positive sense of self has crystallized, it's virtually unassailable. And so, in trying situations you're in an ideal position to explain yourself both tactically and tactfully--and without having to be concerned that your expression (facial or verbal) is likely to make matters worse. Additionally, responding assertively is in direct opposition to reacting aggressively--which may have been what happened routinely in the past when your buttons got pushed.

It's somewhat analogous to being bullied, which is an extreme example of external provocation. Once you're able to stand tall in the face of another's ridicule or derision, you're practically immune to them. Nothing your bullheaded opponent might say can make you feel oppressed or intimidated. No one can tease you (or, for that matter, torment you), for you've now "consolidated" a favorable sense of self-one that's impervious to anyone who might, sadistically, wish to taunt you.

As idealistic (or far-fetched) as some of what I'm describing might seem, none of it is really outside the bounds of human possibility. Admittedly, however, developing such psychological immunity hardly comes easy. It takes considerable self-discipline to systematically re-visit especially distressing moments in your past that (in certain ways at least) have negatively sensitized you to others.

And, understandably, not that many people are even willing to unearth memories linked to such unpleasant experiences as feeling repudiated, rejected, shamed, or abandoned. Yet once the adult part of you is able to recognize that you're essentially a good, decent person, you can mentally return to such past circumstances to purge them of their toxic residue. And you hardly need to be some kind of exceptional human being to summon the wherewithal to undertake such deeper-level exploration.

However, if on your own you're simply unable to accomplish such self-change, I'd strongly advise you to get some professional assistance (it will be well worth it!). But if you are able to see yourself, for example, as basically competent (though certainly not perfect), acceptable (though, of course, not to everybody), and trustworthy (despite certain peoples' entrenched cynicism preventing them from placing much faith in you), then you already have everything you need to return to your past and repair those negatively distorted beliefs you may long have harbored about yourself. And these beliefs are precisely the ones that re-surface time and again (ad infinitum--or ad nauseum) when you still have buttons altogether susceptible to others' prodding.

Parts 3 and 4 will describe a very different approach to disarming your buttons: namely, employing certain strategies from a method known as Stress [or, in this case, Anger] Inoculation Training. Utilizing such techniques will help you to better prepare--or rehearse--for a variety of challenging interpersonal situations.
_________

Note: I invite readers to follow my psychological reflections on Twitter.

Disarming Your Buttons: How Not to Get Provoked (Part 1 of 4)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 14:44:23 +0000

Where do your (hot) buttons come from, anyway?

It's actually quite simple. When your buttons get pushed, you react. Automatically. After all, that's what getting your buttons pushed means. Stimulus-response, stimulus-response. . . . Or rather, stimulus-reaction. For "response" implies choice; and when your buttons are being hammered, your counter-behavior is instantaneous-sans forethought, deliberation, or (for that matter) discretion. In such instances, you're impelled--by a force that's far stronger, far more primal, than your rational adult mind--to strenuously defend yourself. Or to attack whoever has (perhaps unwittingly) provoked you. Or, in a sudden state of urgency, to hastily retreat from the situation altogether.

Your immediate (and typically fervent) behavior usually reflects some archaic "operating system," an emotional survival program existing considerably below your conscious mind. Just as any animal--by nature, exquisitely sensitive to sudden sound or movement--instinctively tenses all its muscles to prepare for fight, flight, or freeze, so do we humans instantly "adapt" to anything we perceive as threatening. Except, unlike others animals, when we've become hypersensitive to any perceived disagreement, denial, slight, or insult, whatever provoked us rarely constitutes a serious threat to our survival. So, frankly, our adaptation isn't particularly adaptive.

Getting your buttons pushed almost invariably sends you on an unwelcome trip back to your past, to a time when you possessed precious few resources to protect yourself from what, in the moment, felt dangerous to you. This involuntary present-to-past phenomenon is something I regularly find myself explaining to clients, who generally have very little awareness that the buttons they've been futilely struggling to control belong not to their present self but to their inner child of the past. As I like to put it, the adult part of us is reasonable, logical, objective, and controlled. Not easily does it become agitated or carried away. Moreover, as mature individuals we're able to evaluate a situation realistically--and then respond appropriately (rather than rashly) to it. Ideally, possessing a hard-earned confidence and sense of adult authority, we can maintain our mental and emotional poise regardless of various kinds of external pressure we're subject to.

However, when we've gotten our buttons pushed--and so are developmentally regressed back into our child self--our grown-up self is, as it were, "missing in action." For now our judgment, and the wisdom gained from many years of observation and experience, is pretty much rendered null and void. In that moment, enslaved by our inner child's emotions, we can't possibly reflect on the most effective response to the offending person or event. For now it's the child part of us that's in charge, who's taken custody of (or preempted) our more mature, rational self. And--as a child confronted by someone or something perceived as potentially harmful--we're desperate to nullify that threat as quickly as we can, and with little or no consideration for the consequences of such impetuous behavior.

Governed by overwhelming, unanalyzed emotions, our irresistible impulse is to regain some sense of safety, to reduce our precarious sense of vulnerability. With our adult brain hijacked, we're left in a position where we're compelled to do something (however imprudent or counter-productive) that will help neutralize the distressful feelings of insecurity that now beset us. In such a pressured state, there's no time to contemplate the actual threat of the situation, or our present-day ability to assert some authentic power over it. For in being re-identified with our child self, there's little sense that we possess such power. The only alternative, therefore, is--non-rationally--to act out the emotion that now holds us in its grip. And just as this sort of unmediated reactivity probably wasn't very helpful in the past, when in the here-and-now we get our buttons pushed, our instant reaction rarely enables us to successfully resolve our current impasse either.

So, in situations of perceived threat, how do we contrive to get our adult self back on the scene? Or better, are there practical ways we can keep our "inner adult" from leaving in the first place--ways to keep that more mature self fully operational, even in situations that previously may have caused it to vanish entirely?

Parts 2, 3, and 4 of this post will attempt to provide practical answers to these questions, so that you can successfully preserve your mental and emotional equilibrium whenever external forces threaten to overwhelm it.

Note: I invite readers to follow my psychological, philosophical, and spiritual musings on Twitter.

Child Entitlement Abuse (Part 5 of 5)

Leon F. Seltzer, Ph.D. — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 13:40:30 +0000

Raising Children to Become Responsible Adults (con.)

Based on the views of many experts in the field, one of the best summaries for getting spoiled, entitled children back on track is offered by Sherry Rauh. Besides the often reiterated suggestion to set clear and consistent rules and boundaries--and establish appropriate consequences whenever they're broken--she lists the following:

• Create suitable incentives for good behavior;
• Teach children that giving is as important [and I'd add, satisfying] as receiving;
• Teach children how to take "no" for an answer; and [perhaps most fundamental of all]
• Be a positive role model. (As Rauh notes: "Show respect and consideration toward others and your child will follow your lead")

Emily Battaglia, whom I've already cited, talks about how parents must sit their "spoiled" children down and explain to them unequivocally how--and why--previous rules (or the lack of same!) are to be changed. At the same time she advises parents (and, to me, this point can hardly be overemphasized) to "teach [their] children to value intrinsic motivations, like feeling pride and accomplishment, over external motivations, like money."

One brief piece on the Web, called "Entitled to Love" [author's name not given], poses the question of just what kids are entitled to. Beyond food, clothing, shelter, education, and medical care, children are seen as entitled to unconditional love and support. Additionally, they're "entitled to be loved for who they are, not what they do . . . and to live free from hate and war." These humanistic ideals of entitlement are then contrasted to what children are not entitled to--in brief, the many different things children might want, but don't really need. And this essay makes clear that it's vital that parents help their children to understand the difference. Moreover, parents need to realize that children (despite their being children) aren't entitled to be free from responsibility. For if parents don't insist that their children act responsibly, they can inadvertently give them the message either that they're not capable of acting responsibly, or that they really don't need to because their parents are ready and willing to take over for them. And both these messages are seen as facilitating a sense of entitlement.

In a sense, the job of parents today has never been harder. For one thing, they frequently need to be willing to stand firm against community norms that unintentionally endorse entitlement (an unfortunate result of the simplistically implemented, and narcissism- promoting, self-esteem movement for children). And for another, they need--pro-actively (and pro-socially?!)--to act as a counterforce to all the ads incessantly and insidiously "preying on" their children's minds.

Unquestionably, the message children get from the 100s (1000s?) of commercials they're repeatedly subject to is that they're entitled to whatever they want-and further, that they're entitled to it immediately. In fact, our whole culture of consumption might be viewed as fueling a sense of entitlement, such that many adults are also afflicted by it.

But finally, constantly searching for the next thing that will "do it" for us carries within it the notion (or doom) of frustration and futility. It goes against the whole idea of learning to be content with what we already have. And not only does it gratuitously create desire where none may have existed before, it also fosters a sense of urgency to gratify that desire. Yet happiness, as has been illustrated from the beginnings of recorded history, does not derive from mere acquisition--just as people with a sense of entitlement rarely can be pronounced happy. For happiness in the context of materialism is something we're always one possession away from. As the Greek philosopher Epicurus once opined, "Nothing is enough for the [person] to whom enough is too little."

People "cursed" with a sense of entitlement are fated to be forever looking round the bend toward the next thing that will make them happy. But such pleasure or excitement is inevitably short-lived because using people or things to "manipulate" yourself into an enduring state of well-being simply isn't impossible.

To close with a final quote from "Entitled to Love": "The things that make children happy [and, I would add, adults as well] are the same things they're [legitimately] entitled to--things like love and security and connectedness--and they're not for sale."

Note: I invite readers to follow my psychological/philosophical musings on Twitter. See http://twitter.com/drlee1