"Inventing" Psychology

When I write, I have a tendency towards the verbose and the dramatic. When I speak, I have a tendency towards simplicity and repetition. My conversational style, taken out of context, would indicate that I appear to be perpetually speaking to a group of eight year olds.

The root of this unique (strange?) interpersonal style is twofold: one, I think I fear being misunderstood. This reason is, of course, my own issue, as I have no control over how other people will interpret what I say—no matter how slow or how many times I might say it. Two, I am a verbal processer. Even when my subconscious mind has learned and decided on something, it is only fully comprehended by my conscious mind through this process of repetition and simple articulation.

Unfortunately, neither reason for my behavior makes my conversational companions any better off.

For example, the other day, my husband and I were having a conversation about my most recent blog entry. He had not yet read the posting, and was patiently listening to me blather on about the concept of people being attached to their story and what not.

When I was done repeating the same idea in about five different manners—each appropriate for an audience of third graders--he started to say something, hesitated, and then sort of laughed. Forever curious about the reactions my musings elicit, I pressed him to tell me what was on his mind.

He looked at me with a rather wry expression, seemed to consider whether or not he actually wanted to divulge his thoughts, and finally began: “This is going to come across as a sort of wise-ass comment, but…”

Me, eager as ever: “Yes? Tell me!”

Him: “It is just that…Well, do you really think you are the first person to come up with this stuff? It is all sort of obvious. It is common sense.”

My husband, I feel compelled to share, is exceptionally generous and effusive in his praise for my writing. He is also extremely good at calling me out on my nonsense. We spent the next few days making fun of all the psychological analysis/diagnosis I “invent” on a daily basis.

I admit that I am a sometimes ridiculous person, and I forget how ridiculous I can be until someone else calls me on it. This point actually relates to my overall point here, so bear with me.

I would like to clarify what I thought was obvious and what is, based on my husband’s reaction, maybe not coming across through my writing: I do not presume to be re-inventing the wheel or to imply that what I impart through this blog are life-altering lightning bolts of ideas that have struck me, and me alone. Frankly, I am often not even giving these age-old topics a particularly new or original spin.

My intent is to inspire critical thought, conversation, and self-examination. The sort of which I try to engage in with myself. The sort that makes me take a second look at myself and at what I have been doing--and maybe stops me in my tracks for a minute.

Auto-pilot is a proclivity and I think it is a shame. At least, I want to shake myself out of operating in that mode, and I hope my musings inspire you to do the same. In order for that to happen, I do not think new ideas or foreign concepts are the place to start. I want to go back to what we all inherently know on some base level and then we inevitably forget here and there because something--life?--gets in the way.

When we function on auto-pilot, we are not being our true self. We are being a less vibrant, less evolved, less interesting version of the person we are. I seek to pull myself away from that tendency because I think doing so makes me more interesting and interested. Same goes for you.

But the truth is that it can be difficult to change our own habits, shake up our own routines, and rearrange our own perceptions of life and the way things “should” or “ought” to be. (Bad words, but you know that already).

My main point today is that there is so much that is so obvious when it comes to analyzing others. It is so easy to detect how other people are missing the mark, messing up their lives, etc. Discussing all of these issues abstractly often imparts a sort of “Yeah, well, duh!” reaction.

And yet, when I examine my life, I find I fall prey to all these obvious errors of judgment, and a whole host of mistaken self-analysis, with shocking frequency. It is hard to look at your life with an objective lens, and even harder to critically examine how or why you might be engaging in the very acts that seem so obvious, and so obviously detrimental, when you see them occurring in the lives of others.

I am assuming that I am not the only one who does so. At least, I am surprised by how often I can say: “What an imbecile!” when it comes to watching someone else bang their head into a wall with alarming repetition, only to turn the microscopic lens on myself and think: “What? Me, too!?”

But when I think about myself and my ability to opine on people letting go of their stories, etc., I know that the truth of the matter is this: easier said than done.

Personally, a big part of my story if that I care about external validation. I care about “doing the right thing.” I want people to like me, I want people to be impressed by me, and I want to make all the “right” decisions to make all of that happen.

Cognitively I know that to truly be happy and successful there is one person and one person only whose good graces I need to earn: my own. So, ironically, I talk a big game about the importance of being true to yourself. I will readily and convincingly tell you how the only person whose stamp of approval on your life that will matter is your own.

I will then turn around and be the first to cry (hysterically and disproportionately) over a minor criticism from a professor, boss, or client.

Basically, you could watch me for a week, and, in addition to being bored out of your mind (I am not ALL that interesting), conclude that I am guilty of falling into the very traps against which I warn others. I would imagine that you could, maybe easily, “diagnose” me as being idiotic, ignorant, and oblivious.

That scares me a bit. Although now think: could I do the same if I observed you for that amount of time?

We are all works in progress and change is not something that happens overnight. If you have been running on that same wheel for years, telling the same stories, or sleep-walking through your days then this is not a meant to make you feel badly; this is merely a suggestion to turn the lens on yourself. I will certainly do the same.