The Myth of Authenticity

For a long time, I would say that I was searching for a way to be more authentic in my life. Authenticity, to me, was a way of being that was better than being inauthentic. If I was being authentic, I was being true to myself. Real.

But I can see now that the search for any authentic self is a myth. We are always authentic. We are always exactly what we are. There is no way to be otherwise.

If we are nervous, or insecure, or happy, or confident, those things are obvious to anyone nearby. Whether we say the words or not, we are communicating that essence of ourselves in every moment.

A more valid question is whether we are being honest. If I am honest with myself, my current practice might be "cranky Jeff trying to be upbeat," or "nervous Jeff trying to speak clearly." Honesty, especially with ourselves, is something we are afraid of. Why, I am not sure. I am not even sure I was honesty searching for authenticity. I think what I was actually searching for was comfort.

We all get cranky, or nervous, or afraid. It can be tremendously freeing to accept that. And, paradoxically, we can be comfortable with our discomfort.

Jeff

Writing as a Practice

The act of writing can be a good rehearsal for life itself. It can be a preliminary practice, a preparation for the conversation that we want to have, or don't want to. It can be a record of our values and what is important to us. Or it can serve as proof of our ever-changing nature.

At its best moments, we have thoughts in writing that we do not have otherwise. We enter a state of flow where thoughts just come, and those thoughts may be things that we have not considered or even things that make us uncomfortable. Writing can inspire our creativity and our courage.

And when we are done, we have something that we can look at, or reflect upon. We may decide to reject it before we show it to anyone else. Or we might use it to inspire us to do something that we never thought was possible.

I find writing every day is helpful for other reasons, too. Looking back, I can see what was important to me at a given point in time. And I can see how that changes.

In a way, then, writing is a record of our impermanence. When we think our view of the world is a constant, we can look at our writing and see that we are wrong. That given enough time, everything changes. Even, perhaps especially, our very view of self.

Jeff

Doubt

There are things that we don't know.

We don't know, for sure, why we are here. We don't know what happens after death. There are many times that we can be unsure about the best course of action for us, or about what we are "meant" to do, or about how we can make a difference in the world, or at work. And there are times that because of this uncertainty, we are plagued with doubt.

Doubt isn't a problem because we don't know things. Doubt is a problem because we think we should.


Try a thought experiment. The next time you are feeling frustrated with not knowing an answer to a big question, say "I don't know, and, right now, it seems that I am not supposed to know."

Cut yourself a break. The list of things that we know is short. The list of things we do not is long. There is a space of not knowing, and knowing that you cannot know, that can be open, nonjudgmental, and even comforting.

When you really need to know (as opposed to just wanting to), you will.

Jeff

Bad Days

Every now and then I have a bad day. There might be a series of events that caught me off guard. Things that trigger me can include unexpected financial expenditures or unexpected things happening at work. They are often things that are outside of my control, or that relate to something that happened awhile ago that has "come home to roost."

Bad days and good days seem to have one thing in common--we assume that they are going to continue. So if there are a couple bad things that have come together, we assume it is a trend rather than just a bad roll of the dice.

This is harder to take when it is three or four bad things than when it is three or four good things. It can be helpful to see this, to think of times in the past that may have been similar, or even to repeat that old standby, "This, too, shall pass."

And to see that, for the most part, things are just happening. Our reactions, and our interpretations, come from the stories that we've told ourselves about those things. That something should not have happened or that someone should have behaved differently (or my personal favorite, "should have known better." I fall for that one all the time!)

What are your stories? Are they true, or not?

Jeff

Two Perspectives

We can have at least two conflicting views of how life works. And there is evidence to support both.

One is that we are separate beings who have goals and intentions and some level of control over what happens in our lives. We make choices and face consequences (good or bad) based on the results of those choices.

The other is that we may have different perspectives (literally "points of view"), but at a fundamental level we are interconnected and that everything that arises is happening on a co-created basis beyond the level of individual intention.

I don't think this a matter of picking one over the other. I don't think that either view is definitive, or capable of being proven right or wrong.

But it can be helpful to notice what happens when you are operating from one perspective versus the other. And what and how you feel when you do so.

Jeff

Pain and Suffering

It seems like this has been my week to observe suffering.

I hurt my leg coming into the house after a long trip. I was carrying my bags (heavier than usual) and coming up the front steps. Somehow, I missed a step and when I got my footing and teetered forward, I did something to my calf. I think I may have torn it--it reacted by going into spasm. And hurting a lot. Searing pain, like it was being cut with a knife.

It hurts less now. When it happened, a lot of the pain, and suffering, was because I was afraid. I did not know what had happened. I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted this pain, this injury to not be there. I wanted desperately to rewind those two seconds and do them again. As I limped and grimaced, I searched for a way to move forward, a shuffle, anything, that did not cause excruciating pain, and create fear that I was making my injury worse.

Once I found a way to move, the pain started to subside. It is stiff, yes, and it still hurts like crazy when I stress it the wrong way. I might be going to the doctor tomorrow. But the pain, when it is just pain, is bearable.

Pain is not suffering. Wanting the pain to be different is.

Pain is part of being human, as is suffering. We all suffer from time to time. It is part of our human nature to resist what is happening, or to want things to be different. But I think it can also be helpful to see how we can often put up with more pain than we think is possible, just by accepting that it is there. Every little bit of acceptance helps. My leg is living proof.

Jeff

Meeting Prep

I am noticing the things that I do to avoid preparing for a presentation.

Like writing in this blog.

There is a side of me that wants to wing it in a meeting. I want things to be spontaneous and fresh. But at the same time, I think I lose opportunities to hone the message. To be more polished, perhaps. To make sure that I connect with key messages.

I need to get back to that. I talk about really opening to feelings and experiences, and yet, here I am, doing everything I can not to open to the process of preparation. Am I afraid of feeling nervous? Am I afraid of feeling unprepared? Or I am afraid of the work itself?

Time to find out.

Jeff