Watching the thinker

I'm seeing a therapist for the first time in my life. It's always been important to me to be strong - I've been trying to prove how strong I am my whole life. I want to show the world that I can do anything - overcome any obstacle - work through any problem - all on my own. When I was pregnant at 14, and the world seemed to be telling me that I was doomed to failure, and I wouldn't realize my plans of going to college and being successful - I was determined to prove them wrong - and I did.

About a week ago, I decided that maybe I could use some help. I was struggling to control my emotional reactions to my husband's newfound friendship. He made a friend - the first friend he'd made on his own since high school - and it made me jealous. I was angry - resentful - sad. I felt like he was choosing someone else over me. He'd rather spend time with this guy than with me. In my mind, he would leave me to be with this friend if he could, and was grateful for the chance to get away from me. It shut me down. I didn't want to talk to him or be with him (and I wanted desperately to be with him at the same time). I wanted to curl up in a ball in a dark room alone and cry. I wanted to wallow in despair, and I returned to my teenage dreams of dying. I wished that something would kill me so I wouldn't have to cope with the way I felt.

Where was this coming from? The critic in me was disgusted - "How pathetic and weak you are", it said. "How old are you, 13?" It chided. I realized it was the same old thing in me - the fear that I'm unwanted, unimportant, insignificant, unloved. The fear that my husband secretly desires to leave me and is waiting for an opportunity. I felt desperate - would I ever believe that I'm worthy - that I'm loved? Would I ever find a way out of suffering? It seemed like I wouldn't.

I like my therapist. She referred me to a good book - "The Power of Now" by Eckhardt Tolle. In this book he promises an end to suffering. He speaks of his darkest moment - he was going to commit suicide because he had decided that he could no longer bear the suffering - he could no longer bear living with himself. And at that moment, he realized that there must be two of him - the 'I' that cannot live with the 'self' - and one of them might be false - made-up. This isn't a new concept for me (being raised by hippies and having read books like "The Impersonal Life" and "Be Here Now" since I was about 8 years old), but I'd forgotten it.

The mind creates this self or identity, an we assume it is who we are. There is a thinker in us - a thinker who interprets and judges and forms pictures - a critic who constantly comments on everything we see and do. Tolle says, if we can watch the thinker, we realize that it isn't us - it's something created over time by our experience of life. The thinker's view is filtered by all of our experiences and our decisions about those experiences. The view is limited and shaped by our emotional reactions - and the thinker's view is the cause of all of our suffering. Acknowledging that we are not the thinker can bring an end to suffering.

My parents divorced when I was 4 years old - the thinker decided: "My Dad left me because he doesn' t love me anymore. Just because someone says they love you, and they'll love you forever no matter what, doesn't mean they won't change their mind one day when something better comes along or things get too hard." When I was 17, my husband (boyfriend at the time) left me for another girl. The thinker said "See - I told you - he said he would love you forever, but now you have a kid and it's too hard, and he likes this girl better than you, so you're out." And I forced him to come back to me. Since then, we've aknowledged all that happened - that he was afraid and felt trapped, and was trying to escape a terrifying situation. That I did force him to come back to me - out of fear of being unloved and unwanted. We acknowledged all of that, and then we chose to be together. He chose to be with me - not because he was forced, but because he wants to be with me and no one else. Because he finds me beautiful and fascinating, strong and intelligent, everything he wants in his partner for life.

Now - my husband gets a friend and wants to spend time with him on the weekend, and the thinker chimes in "See - he said he wants to be with you and would rather spend time with you than anyone else, but now he's found someone he likes more and you aren't nearly as important as you thought you were to him." The thinker continues, "He probably doesn't even really love you - I bet he's wishing every day that he could get away from you and just pretends to love you because that's easier. There are no guarantees." And - I forget that the thinker is there, and that the thinker is almost always wrong - and I believe her because I believe she is me.

Reading the book has reminded me that I am not the thinker - I am not my mind. Detaching from the thinker and observing her, separate from me, does give me peace. If you observe the thoughts without identifying them as yourself, they lose power. This doesn't mean I won't be thwarted by the thinker again - I am every day - but it helps to be aware, and I can remind myself to stop the thinker and acknowledge that without all her definitions of who I am and what people think of me, I simply am.

Suffering - the human condition?

I've struggled since I was a very young child to understand suffering and why it is the human condition. A large majority of people in the world spend their entire lives in suffering (millions of people starve to death each year - so many never once in their lives know comfort, safety, or love). Even those of us who are fortunate to have family, food, shelter, and abundant love are still undeniably affected by the suffering that results from life circumstances - car accidents - death of loved ones - illness - random violence. I don't think there is any way to avoid suffering if you are alive, so I try to find the beauty in it - to appreciate it - to have it help me grow and contribute to my experience in this life - but it's really hard. Mostly it makes me angry - it makes me sad - it makes me want to devalue everything else in life and even life itself, and I struggle against this.

Lately I have contemplated a possible answer to my questions about suffering - suffering exists most keenly when we feel alone and hopeless. Even when circumstances are horrible, if we are sharing our experience, in love and openness, with another person, we don't suffer as much - it is bearable, and, maybe, sometimes even beautiful, because we share it with another human being, and in doing so we create a connection with that human being. To me, those connections with other people are the most precious, valuable, and beautiful things in life and why I love to live. But it's hard for me to connect with another person when I'm suffering - I want to be left alone - I feel weak, sad, angry, powerless - and I don't want other people to see - I want to hide. If we could just abandon that illusion of separateness and everything that comes with it - fear of judgement, of loathing, of rejection - and we could view ourselves as connected - as one - then suffering might no longer be the human condition. If we know that we are not alone- anything we experience as suffering, countless other people have also experienced.

One of my favorite lyricists and musicians is Maynard James Keenen (lead singer of Tool and A Perfect Circle). In one of his songs (called Parabola), he says:

       This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
       Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal.
       All this pain is an illusion.

In another song (Reflections), he writes:

       So crucify the ego, before it's far too late
       To leave behind this place so negative and blind and cynical,
       And you will come to find that we are all one mind
       Capable of all that's imagined and all conceivable.

Now - I just have to figure out how we get there.

Love yourself - yeah right, hippy.

I've met very few women who seem to genuinely have good self-esteem. I'm not sure what it is about our culture, but women from all walks of life seem to be trained to think they are worthless, and base their self-worth completely on their accomplishments or other things external to themselves.

I was raised in a loving household with a mom and grandparents, aunts and uncles, who told me regularly how fantastic I am. Nevertheless, I find myself constantly undervaluing myself - doubting my abilities, for example, if my coworker doesn't take my suggestion, or feeling like a failure as a mother when my double-booking causes me to miss a PTA meeting. I've always been an over-achiever, and always felt like I have to constantly prove how strong I am and what I can do. Is there any escape?

There is a multi-billion dollar industry offering solutions to my problem. The Small Business Association even has a special website addressing the topic for women business owners. Yet - here we still are - the most successful of us struggling every day to feel good enough. There has to be a simple answer. I'll let you know if I find it.

Balance is bunk!

I know about balance. I've been to a lot of talks and read a lot of articles about work-life balance, but I can't say I ever met anyone who mastered it or even came close. Lately, I tend to agree with Keith Hammonds who says that Balance is bunk!

Simply cutting back on work inevitably fails, because in real life, success in work is predicated on achievement. In a competitive business environment -- which is to say, every business environment -- leadership requires commitment, passion, and, to be blunt, a lot of time.

I've always wanted to believe that I can have everything - a fulfilling and passionate marriage, children who are happy in a close family, a successful career, and a community that thrives with my contributions. I've worked for a large technology company on a fast technical professional track for almost 7 years, I've been married for 16 years and have three children. I help run two girl scout troops, and serve on the elementary school executive PTA board. I just graduated from college last year after 15 years of classes. I help run an engineering camp for young girls. I try to publish at least one paper nationally or internationally a year. I have the best sex life ever!

I've done a damn good job of convincing myself and everyone else that I can do it all. I can have it all. And it's all a lie.

The truth is, I'm stretched really thinly. I have done a great job of maintaining all of the things I mentioned and more, but it comes at a great cost. I'm constantly driven by guilt to do more and better, and very little of the time do I find myself happy and satisfied, or even able to acknowledge everything that I accomplish. I have to ask myself - what am I living for? What is really important - proving that I can do everything, or having a life full of happiness and satisfaction? Step one: I have to first acknowledge that those aren't the same thing. This is where I am now, we'll see what happens next.