A thought-provoking passage from a story Yam Gruel by the early 20th century Japanese writer Akutagawa:

“Yam gruel is a gruel made by boiling slices of yam in a soup of sweet arrow-root.  […]  It was regarded as the supreme delicacy. […]  Accordingly, such lower officials as Goi could taste it only once a year when they were invited as […] guests to the Regent’s Palace. […] On such occasion they could eat no more of it than barely enough to moisten their lips.  So it had been [Goi’s] long-cherished desire to satiate himself with yam gruel.  Of course, he himself did not confide his desire to anyone.  He himself might not have been clearly aware that it had been his life-long wish.  But as a matter of fact, it would hardly be too much to say that he lived for this purpose.  A man sometimes devotes his life to a desire which he is not sure will ever be fulfilled.  Those who laugh at this folly are, after all, no more than mere spectators of life.”

I have but one question for you today, but I’ll state it thrice:

Are you aware of what drives you and why?

What yam gruel are you still chasing?

Have you had a taste of life yet?

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Note to Mere Spectators of Life: if you happen to have the wisdom of merely noticing “what is,” without chasing it, I salute your equanimity!

Reference:  Rashomon & Other Stories, by Ryunosuke Akutagawa

You say to-may-toes, I say to-mah-toes, who's right?

Minds are fundamentally subjective: we all have opinions of what is but no objective knowledge of what is.  After all, to define reality objectively, we would have to be outside of it.  But we aren’t.  To define reality objectively, we would also have to be outside of our subjective minds.  But we aren’t.

Subjectivity isn’t objectivity, and an opinion isn’t a fact.

To understand the arbitrary nature of any evaluation, we have to understand the concept of value. 

Sometimes I come across a piece of psychological thinking that is so clarifying, illuminating, enriching, and laconic  that I feel instantly compelled to share it.  This happens often, in fact.

For example, it happened tonight when I read a January 22nd blog-post by Lama Surya Das, entitled Deep Questioning.  I encourage you to read his piece on being questioned and questioning yourself: it amounts to no less than a senior year of graduate-level counseling training (in value, not in duration).

His blog post took me back to a moment when – about a year ago, during an encounter with Lama Surya Das in Pittsburgh – I pointed a finger at him and “fired” an irreverent koan: “Who is this?”

Most weeks I pick up two or three random books (from a local store that sells used books).  Some of them I read cover to cover, others – I skim.  I find this routine of mine to be an essential part of my mind’s hygiene.  Random informational inputs challenge and change my mindware (my assumptions, my fund of knowledge, my association networks).

Here are two thought-notes (that I came across in my readings this past week) that struck a cord with me…

The reality runs on cause-and-effect.  We are part of this reality.  We run on motive-and-behavior.  We run on reason-and-behavior.  After all, we reasonable, rational, sentient, sapient beings.  If we don’t have a reason (i.e. a motive) behind what we do, then whatever we are doing is mindless, meaningless, and reflexive.

Selflessness – as unmotivated behavior – is a psychologically-toxic myth.  A robot is selfless because it doesn’t have a self.  A human has a self, and this self makes choices, i.e. expresses preferences, i.e. moves towards wellbeing.  That’s how we operate.  That’s natural.  There’s nothing wrong with having a reason (i.e. motive) behind what you do.  We tend to struggle to acknowledge our motives in fear that you’ll be accused of selfishness.  But selfishness doesn’t have to be a bad word.  Selfishness* is simply a pursuit of well-being, an act of self-care.  It is our psycho-physiological imperative. 

Know all and you will pardon all.

Thomas A’Kempis

Guilt and/or shame leads to rumination and dwelling on the causes of what happened.  At a glance, this seems to be a potentially useful information-processing habit.  The problem, however, is that this post-mistake analysis is biased and the conclusion is typically foregone.

You have already decided that a) if you “made” the mistake, then, of course, it was your fault, and b) that the reason why you “made” the mistake is because you are flawed.  Let’s work on reversing this process in order to rediscover your motivational innocence and to learn to give yourself the benefit of the doubt.

Any mind is a hostage to its habits.  Perfectionistic mind – even more so.  Perfectionist’s mind is a high security prison guarded by guilt-tripping shoulds. Thomas Hurka, in a philosophical analysis of the idea of perfectionism, observes: “The perfectionist ideal is a moral ideal <…>: it is an ideal people ought to pursue regardless of whether they now want it or would want it in hypothetical circumstances, and apart from any pleasures it may bring.” (1993, p. 17).

Restated the doctrine of perfectionism means that we should strive for the sake of striving, not because it feels good, but just because.  Preaching perfectionism for the sake of perfectionism is akin to idealistic hazing designed to override the fundamentals of human motivation and to override free will.

If I tell you to dig a perfect hole in the ground, for no reason other than that you can, and you comply without any questions, you are a soldier of the absurd, a zombie.  Striving for perfection for no particular reason or gain, just because, is masochistic insanity that can be only tolerated through reflexive compliance. 

Arlington Avenue is a winding, 9% grade-steep street that snakes up the Southside hills of Pittsburgh.  It is popular with local cyclists and happens to run right above my house on the slopes.  It offers one of many amazing overlooks of the city but without the glitz of some of the more official scenic sights.  In the days shortly after the U.S. went to war with Iraq, somebody spray-painted an American flag and the words “mindless followers” on one of the guardrail walls.  The street, as you see, has a tone of non-conforming defiance to it.

A few weeks ago, on a cool-down walk with my German shepherd, Sherpa, I stumbled upon a discarded Lance Armstrong’s Livestrong yellow bracelet, right near that graffiti that I just mentioned.  Knowing about Armstrong’s publicity troubles, I was intrigued: has the publicity crap finally hit the fan?  I picked up the wrist band, brought it home, washed it and started wearing it.  This was my first Livestrong meme-leash and I decided to make my own protest out of it.  Against what?  Well, that’s the point of this writing.  Hang on with me for a paragraph or two as I set it up.

In making sense of perfectionism, I distinguish between primary and secondary perfectionism.

Primary perfectionism is a pursuit of perfection for its own sake, as an end in and of itself. Primary perfectionism is when you want reality to be better than it is because you think it could be or should be better than it is.  In this kind of perfectionism, the pursuit of perfection is the primary goal.  In principle, there’s nothing wrong with striving for a better world.  It’s just that in practice, constant striving for a better world obscures the ordinary perfection of the world that already is. 

On January 6, 2009, CNN reported that a German billionaire Adolf Merckle died by suicide, jumping in front of a train as his fortunes declined from $12.8 billion to $9.2 billion in 2008. CNN offered the following explanation: “The financial troubles of his companies, induced by the international financial crisis and the uncertainty and powerlessness to act independently…broke the passionate family business man, and he took his own life.”

My clinical guess is that Adolf Merckle was a casualty of perfectionism, not of the economy.  CNN’s explanation of the reasons behind the suicide is replete with red flags of perfectionism.  Let’s take a close look at this psychological autopsy.