The Relationship Between Gratitude, Abundance, and Acquisition

My last post on combatting clutter brought a lot of interesting comments and several great suggestions. For instance:

Liz wrote: “We keep a large plastic tote in our living room and we drop items that are to be donated inside. Once the tote is full, we take the contents to Goodwill.” Great idea!

DH (who has been reading my blogs for years) suggested coping with clutter is a mental exercise: “[Becoming] highly organized and clutter-free or whatever…will never fully shield us from that underlying level of anxiety you speak of, JD. That’s just a myth that sells books and blogs. The key to dealing with the underlying anxiety is to transform the material of the mind first.” Commenters Moom and Lucille agreed.

Andrew shared a William Morris quote: “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.”

Dennis hit upon something I’ve learned over the past few years: “Invest in quality items. The few possessions I do own are of very high quality and will ultimately last many years with proper care.” KSR agreed.

And Mrs. Money Mustache provided a tip that I’ve been trying to put into place here at my new home: “Everything must have its place. If every object in your house has a place where it lives, then clutter is virtually gone.” Yes, indeed, this is true.

Perhaps the most insightful comment, however, came by email. After nearly a year together, Kim knows me pretty well. She noted — not for the first time — that my problem isn’t clutter. It’s acquisition. She wrote:

What I’ve witnessed is what I would call an aquisition problem. I’ve been very proud and impressed with your ability to let go of “stuff”, but you still bring home little things constantly, and I would say more often than pretty much any one I’ve ever been around.

You know what? She’s right. What’s more, this is merely one symptom of a deeper problem in my life. As my therapist noted in December, I operate from a scarcity mindset. Many of my decisions are predicated on the premise that I won’t have enough: not enough food, not enough stuff, not enough love. As a result, I’ve tended toward hoarding (ever since I was a boy). And of course, this leads to a compulsion to acquire stuff.

For the most part, I’ve managed to shake this scarcity mindset with regards to relationships. I’ve shifted to an abundance mindset instead. Maybe it’s time to make the same shift in other aspects of my life. Hell, forget “maybe”. It is time that I made this shift.

Early this morning, I had a long chat with my friend Jodi Ettenberg, who’s near the end of a sojourn in Vietnam. Among other things, we talked about attitude and gratitude. We took turns sharing how lucky we feel, how grateful we are for the lives we lead. She may not have a lot of money, but she’s been able to travel the world for the past five years, eating and exploring and interacting with people. I, on the other hand, have a lovely home, a fantastic girlfriend, and work I love. We’re grateful for our lives of abundance.

As I ran errands this afternoon, I thought about the relationship between gratitude and abundance. For a long time, I hated the world “abundance”. I associated it with the myth of the law of attraction. But over the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that there really is such a thing as an abundance mindset, and it’s very much tied to the ability to be grateful for what you have. As I pondered gratitude and abundance, I had an epiphany.

If an attitude of gratitude can change the way I view relationships with people, then maybe it can shift how I view my relationship with stuff. The next time I feel compelled to buy something — a candle snuffer, a drink muddler, a floor lamp — I need to take a moment to be grateful for the things I already have. I suspect that by doing so, I just might be able to put an end to my problem with ~~clutter~~ acquiring things.

It worked today, anyhow. One of the errands on my list was a trip to Costco. I need batteries, and I want lots of other stuff. But while waiting at the DMV, I took a few moments to think about all of the good things I have, and to ask if I really needed to go to Costco. The answer, unsurprisingly, was no. I stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up a few necessities, but today at least I was able to keep from bringing more stuff into my home.

Focus on Fitness

My head is full of things to share with you, but my time is scarce. I shouldn’t even be writing this now. I have an Entrepreneur article that is two days past due! But, as I say, there are so many things to tell: I’ve had an offer accepted on a condo, I’m getting braces next Tuesday, and I’m learning all sorts of little lifehacks from my friends lately.

Today, though, I want to take a few moments to talk about the strange world of weight loss. As you may recall, I lost fifty pounds from January 2010 to June 2011. I did this through a combination of smart eating and dedicated exercise. (To be honest, though, the exercise accounted for 80% of the success; my diet has never been stellar.)

I’ve managed to maintain a healthy weight and fitness level for eighteen months. Sure, my weight fluctuates over time, depending on how much I’m moving and what sorts of crap I’m eating. But mostly, I’ve kept the weight off.

During December, however, I went off track for the first time in three years. Because of a shoulder injury, I wasn’t able to exercise as much as I’d like. And because of the holidays (and because Kim and I spent a week vacationing), I ate like crap. More to the point, I drank like crap. I had a lot of alcohol last month. Bottom line? I entered the new year feeling and looking awful.

No worries. I had a plan.

After I returned from Houston last weekend, I stepped on the scale to get a frame of reference. On Sunday night, I weighed in at 181 pounds, the first time I’ve been over 180 in…well, almost two years. After seeing that shocking number, I implemented emergency measures.

I fasted for 24 hours, from Sunday evening ’til Monday evening. (Kris and I met for Hawaiian food on Monday night. I ate chicken and salad and rice.)
From Tuesday to Wednesday, I did Dr. Oz’s three-day cleanse, during which I drank fruit/vegetable smoothies for my meals.

The results were impressive. This morning, I weighed in at 169 pounds, a drop of twelve pounds in four-and-a-half days. Admittedly, these pounds were mostly bloat from too much salt, sugar, water, and alcohol. But that was exactly the point of the fast and cleanse, right?

Moving forward, there are a few more things I plan to do to maintain a healthy lifestyle:

Tomorrow (or tonight), after about a month of no regular exercise, I’m heading back to the gym. Bring on the Crossfit! Plus, Kim and I will shift some of our food-oriented dates to exercise-oriented dates.

Kim has shifted from a paleo diet to one that’s far more plant-based. While I’m not willing to go that far, there’s no doubt that I need more fruits and vegetables in my meals. That’s a focus for the next few weeks. (And, I hope, beyond.)

I had a glass of wine with my brunch on Sunday morning. From that point until Valentine’s Day, I intend to drink only water. No alcohol. No coffee. No soda. No juice. No nothing. (Well, except for green tea. I’m allowing myself green tea.)

Actually, I’m eliminating all mind- and body-altering substances until Valentine’s Day, including ibuprofen and melatonin and caffeine. I want to see what it feels like to have no chemicals in my system.

I’m going to re-focus on running and biking. These two activities fit my body type, and I really enjoy them. For the past few years, though, I’ve mostly done strength training. That’s great (and I’ll continue to lift weights), but aerobic activity is more my thing, so I’m going to return to it.

My focus on fitness was a key component of the life changes I’ve made over the past few years. I grew a little complacent this summer and fall, though, because I’d reached a sort of fitness peak. But the truth is, that peak cannot be maintained without effort. Injuries and busy-ness and dating are no excuse.

I’m excited to be back on track. Healthy eating and exercise can actually be a lot of fun. They make me feel great.

Right now, though, it’s back to work. I still have that Entrepreneur article to write. Soon, though, I’ll tell you more about my condo, about my braces, and about all of the little lifehacks I’ve learned lately! Life is fun, isn’t it?

My Goals for 2013

On Monday, I shared my year in review for 2012. The past twelve months were a time of transition, and I’m happy with how my life has changed in the past year. Now, however, it’s time to look forward to 2013, to prepare plans so that life can be even better.

In recent years, I’ve consciously shied away from New Year’s resolutions. I’ve used a “one goal at a time” technique to achieve major changes. By focusing on just one thing at a time, I don’t get distracted, and I’ve been better able to achieve success.

I didn’t set any major goals for 2012, though. This was largely because I knew my life was going to be in a state of flux: I was in the process of getting a divorce, was moving temporarily to an apartment, and was preparing to leave Get Rich Slowly, where I’d been writing for six years. If I had a goal, it was to get through all of these transitions in a smooth and orderly manner. Which I did.

This year, though, I want to be more directed. And I’m willing to take on more than just one goal in 2013. As my discipline has improved, I’ve found that I have more brainwidth to devote to self improvement. I believe I can pursue more than one goal at a time, so long as the goals aren’t in the same parts of my life. (In other words, I can probably pursue just one fitness goal at a time, but I can pursue a fitness goal and a financial goal simultaneously.)

Here, then, are the things I aim to achieve in 2013.

Professional Goals

To begin, I have a handful of professional goals. Though I only have a few of these, they’ll dominate most of my time from Monday through Thursday of each week.

First, I’m going to fully develop More Than Money. Since retiring from Get Rich Slowly in October, I’ve enjoyed writing here, finding my voice again, exploring a variety of topics. But I haven’t found any regular rhythm. I’d like to change that in 2013. I want to build a community here as I share the vast variety of information I explore in my daily life. I want to help others to help themselves. To do that, I want to make this site more robust.

Second, I’m going to write a proposal for my next book. Though I’m proud of Your Money: The Missing Manual, I’ll be the first to admit there’s nothing unique about it. It’s a common-sense guide to managing your money. It’s not the “J.D. Book” that I wanted to produce. After two years of mulling it over, I know what the “J.D. Book” is: what it’s about and what it should look like. This year, I want to produce a proposal so that my agent and I can sell this book.

Next, I want to help produce the best-ever World Domination Summit. In July, we’ll bring 3000 people to Portland for a two-day event. As you can imagine, that entails lots of logistical challenges. Plus, we need to provide programming to engage this group. There’s a lot of work to be done over the next six months, but I want to make this conference something worthwhile for everyone who attends.

Finally, I want to continue to practice my public speaking. Last year, I spoke at three conferences. I already have three speaking gigs for this year. I’d be happy to do one or two more. But more than that, I want to improve my delivery. A lot of times, I feel unprepared for my talks, and I lack confidence. This year, I want to make sure that each talk is well-prepared and, most importantly, full of useful info for the folks in the audience.

Personal Goals

While I’m eager to tackle my professional goals, I’m actually keener to work on my personal life. My work has dominated my life for the past few years, and it was only in 2012 that I began to seek balance between the professional and the personal. I want to continue that work in 2013.

First up, I’m going to buy a house. It’s taken me a few months to prepare for the house-hunting process, but things are finally ready. I know how I’m going to pay for the place, and I know (roughly) where and how I want to live. Last week, I began looking at places in the Portland area. I’ve already seen a couple of promising properties. I’m hoping to have found a place by the end of January so that perhaps I can have moved by late March, before I travel to Europe.

Also, I’m going to do more volunteer work. Last year, I dabbled with volunteering. I did a couple of workshops about personal finance, for instance, and for nine months I was an English tutor for a woman from Spain. (Sort of. In reality, we became friends who liked to hang out twice a week.) In 2013, I want to find other ways to give my time and energy.

Next, I’m going to foster my friendships. I did a good job of connecting with friends during the first half of 2012, but as I got busier in the latter half of the year, I did a poor job staying in touch. I want to correct that.

And, of course, I’m going to re-dedicate myself to fitness. For the past few years, fitness has been one of my top priorities. I’ve learned how to eat right and how to make exercise a habit. As a result, I reached my peak level of fitness last July. But through a combination of injuries, travel, and a lack of focus, I’ve let my body go soft. I’ve gained about ten pounds, and I can feel my physical fitness beginning to fade. It’s not too late to put on the brakes, though, and that’s just what I plan to do. In 2013, I’m going to train for the Portland Marathon, reduce my alcohol intake, and pay more attention to healthy eating (including more fruits and veggies).

Through all of this, I’m going to relax. At the end of 2012, I started seeing a therapist. I didn’t have a purpose at first, but after a few conversations it’s clear that there are a couple of things I can work on. Number one? Tranquility. I need to learn to be calm, to go with the flow, to be present in the moment. “I want you to learn how to self-soothe,” my therapist told me at our last session. Sounds like good advice!

Finally — and most importantly — I’m going to continue building my relationship with Kim. I’m happy to have found a partner who supports me emotionally, physically, spiritually, and mentally; and I’m happy to be able to do the same for her. I’m excited to see how our relationship grows now that we’re leaving the early “get to know you” phase.

The Bottom Line

Obviously, these aren’t SMART goals. The aims I’ve shared aren’t all specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and timed. However, for most of these goals, I do have private, concrete objectives.

Really, though, I’m aiming for a change in process, in the way I think and act. To me, the details are less important than making lasting behavioral changes. I want to build good habits that last a lifetime.

What about you? What are your goals for 2013? What do you hope to accomplish in the coming months? How do you decide which goals are most important? And how do you decide how to spend your time when pursuing more than one goal at once?

My Introduction to Therapy

I had lunch with a friend today. Let’s call him Tom. Tom is a colleague. He makes his living from a website. In fact, his site is probably the most financially successful site I know. For years, it’s had an income of hundreds of thousands of dollars.

You might think that with his financial success, Tom would be ecstatic. And there’s no doubt he’s a happy man, grateful for his financial good fortune. All the same, his wealth hasn’t made him happy. In fact, it’s caused him a great deal of stress.

For one thing, he doesn’t feel like he deserves the money. What has he done that others haven’t that he should have such a high income? (Never mind that he gives away tons of money to friends and family — and strangers — every year. Never mind that he employs a small staff of folks when he doesn’t really have to.)

For another, he’s worried that the flow of money will cease. “I have plenty saved,” he told me. “My site has earned me five million dollars since I started it, and I’ve saved about twenty percent of that.” Still, he doesn’t feel like he’s saved enough. Plus, he’s worried about his lifestyle. Is he spending too much? What if the income from the site were to suddenly vanish?

There’s no doubt that Tom has First World problems. He’s the first to admit that it’s crazy to have so much money and still be stressed about his financial situation. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s stressed. (Actually, lots of folks in his position tend to get anxious.)

“It’s gotten so bad that I’m seeking professional help,” Tom told me. “After lunch, I’m going to see a shrink for the first time. Can you believe it?”

“Actually, I can,” I said. “I just came from my own shrink. I’ve been seeing a psychologist for three weeks now.”

Impetus

I have a degree in psychology. For a long time, I thought I was going to be a counselor. That’s what I trained for throughout college. In high school, I played amateur shrink for all of my friends (boys and girls alike), and I thought it made sense to take this “talent” and turn it into a career.

I never did become a psychologist. Instead, I ended up selling boxes for the family business. And, eventually, I became a financial writer (who specializes in the psychology of money). But even today I sometimes dream of returning to grad school and becoming a professional counselor.

Given this, you might think I would have seen a therapist long ago. After all, one of the first rules of therapy is that the therapist herself should also have a therapist.

But no.

Like many people, I’ve always had a stigma against seeing a therapist. I thought it would mean admitting something was wrong with me.

That view began to change about a year ago. When I asked Kris for the divorce, she urged me to see a therapist. I told my friend Michael about this (among other things, Michael is a family counselor), and told him I was reluctant to go.

“You’re looking at it all wrong, J.D.,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’re healthy now, aren’t you?” he asked. “You’re physically fit.”

I nodded.

“Well then why do you still need to go to the gym? Why keep taking Spanish lessons if you know Spanish? Why ever use any sort of coach when you know what you’re supposed to be doing? Well, a therapist is the same thing. Yes, a therapist can help fix things that are broken, but a good one can also keep you functioning at the top of your game. A therapist is like a personal trainer for your mind.”

I heard what Michael was saying, but it wasn’t enough. I still wasn’t ready to talk to a counselor.

Catalyst

About a month ago, I was talking with another friend. Let’s call her Antonia. We were catching up on our lives over dinner when she mentioned that she’d recently started seeing a therapist.

“What for?” I asked, not one to mince words.

“No reason really,” Antonia told me. “I’ve been thinking about some heavy things lately, and I just wanted to bounce them off an objective third party. I tried to see one at my HMO, but they wouldn’t take me on. They said there was nothing wrong with me, and to go away. Fine. I asked a friend, and he recommended his own therapist. So, I’ve been seeing her for a few weeks. It’s interesting.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, I tell my therapist about the things that are on my mind, and then she gives me homework. It sounds goofy, I know, but it’s really helped me clarify some stuff. It’s helped me let go of some things that I didn’t even know were holding me back.”

As the conversation moved on, I thought about this exchange. At the end of the evening, I asked Antonia for her therapist’s contact information. I set up an appointment for myself. Two weeks ago, I saw the therapist for the first time. I’ve been back twice more.

Therapist

I was half an hour late to my first appointment because I had the wrong address. Plus, I hadn’t filled out any of the paperwork I was supposed to have ready. Every other psych major reading those two sentences sees the same thing I do: My subconscious was doing its best to avoid the appointment. Crazy but true.

During that short first meeting, I gave the therapist some background on my life. I explained that for the past month, I’d been tense. Anxious. Stressed. I told her how much I hated uncertainty.

“Well, J.D.,” she said, “it sounds like you had a life full of certainty and you consciously gave that up. You’ve chosen uncertainty. You like some of what uncertainty brings, but you don’t like other parts. But you know what? You have to be okay with the unknowing. It’s part of the process of change and growth.”

Duh, right? And yet I hadn’t been able to see that. She gave me some breathing exercises and sent me on my way.

I was on time for my second appointment, and I had the paperwork I was meant to bring to the first. Plus, I brought a list of topics to discuss. Once again, we spent some time talking about my past and my present. And once again, my counselor connected the dots for me.

“It sounds like you have a tendency to overcommit,” she told me. “You take on too much. But more than that, you go big fast instead of taking it slow and steady. This can cause problems. It led to debt and being overweight. It can also cause problems in relationships, so be careful.”

“You’re right,” I said. “My attitude has always sort of been that if a little is good then a lot must be better. And it’s been tough for me to defer gratification.”

“Right,” she said. “You need to learn what my grandmother would have called temperance. Moderation. You need to learn finesse. You need to learn the importance of choice, of being selective. And remember: You don’t need to say every single thing you think.”

Duh, right? And yet I hadn’t been able to see these things, and I especially hadn’t tied them all to relationships. She gave me some things to practice during the week and sent me on my way. I spent the next three days deep in internal reflection.

Today, I didn’t need to give any additional background. My counselor asked me about my weekend. I told her about the things Kim and I had done, about how much I’d enjoyed just relaxing with her, being domestic. I also talked about how when I’m with Kim, I’m intentionally technology free. I put away the cell phone and the iPad and the computers, and I’m off-grid for 72 hours. It helps me stay present in the moment.

This led to a fascinating discussion of my memory. Why is it I can remember dates and names and the title of nearly every episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” — yet I can’t remember to turn off the bathroom light or shut the shower curtain?

My therapist told me that from what I’ve said and what she’s seen, I might have a mild case of ADHD. (This is no news to me. It’s also no news to you if you’re a long-time reader.) We talked about the other things I do that seem ADHD, and she told me some things I can do to fight them. I’ve noted, for instance, that I get more work done when I work in coffee shops. She said that’s probably because the external stimuli distract the part of my brain that wants to jump all over the place.

Duh, right? And yet I hadn’t been able to see some of this. We talked about some things I might want to work on, and she sent me on my way.

Futurist

My therapy may be short lived and have no huge practical application in my life. Or maybe it will change who I am. I’m not sure yet. And it doesn’t really matter.

I went because something felt wrong, and I wanted to figure out what. I still don’t know exactly what was bothering me. I do know that after just two weeks and three sessions, I’m much more relaxed about everything in my life. I’ve been practicing breathing. I’ve been practicing finesse. Now I’m going to practice being more present in the moment, turning off the ADHD.

I find it interesting that whenever I mention I’ve been seeing a therapist, the person I’m talking with always says something like, “Oh! What’s it like? I’ve been wanting to do that but don’t know where to begin.” Is this one of those things that happens when we turn forty? Is this like needing glasses? I don’t know. But I’m curious to see what other things therapy will teach me about myself.

What is Love? Looking for a Definition of Love

For most of my adult life, I’ve been a pretty rational guy. I’ve prided myself in a scientific mind, one unclouded by spirituality and mysticism. Yet as I’ve experienced profound personal changes over the past few years, I’ve found myself more and more fascinated by abstract (or “spiritual”) questions, the likes of which I haven’t thought about in decades.

One topic I find especially fascinating is love. What is love? What does it mean to be “in love”? What are the different types of love? How can we show others that we love them? And what does it mean to love yourself?

While most of my exploration of love has taken place slowly and internally, I’ve also had some interesting external experiences with the notion of love. First, and most obviously, I chose to end a long-term marriage. That event forced me to dive deep into the nature of love. But there have been other experiences as well:

I have a friend who is conducting what she calls a “love project”. She’s methodically watching every movie she can find about love. She’s also reading books and talking to people. This project has no real purpose other than to help her understand what love is and how it manifests. Her only conclusion after six months of study so far? “Love is messy.”

I have another friend who seems to manifest love in nearly everything she does. It’s a very subtle thing, but if you watch her closely, you can see that in her interactions with strangers, in her relationships with friends, and even in her career choice, she’s motivated by love. A few months ago, I told her what I saw. She was surprised. “It’s true,” she said. “I do act out of love, but nobody’s ever noticed it before.”

As part of my work, I’m involved with a couple of large projects. One of them — which you can probably guess, but which will remain nameless — seeks to edify people, to move them to positive change. I was speaking with the man behind this project last summer, asking him what the project’s true purpose was. “It’s about empowerment,” he told me. “And love. Without using those words.” Suddenly everything made sense. Our work with this project is to spread love.

All this thinking about love has come to the fore recently because I’ve been reading (and enjoying) M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled. I’ve mentioned this book before, and I’m sure to mention it again. It’s had a profound effect on me. It articulates much of my personal philosophy in ways that I’ve been unable to do. Plus, it’s pushing my own personal development in new and exciting directions.

The Road Less Traveled

Briefly put, The Road Less Traveled is about love and spiritual growth.

To begin, Peck explores the idea of discipline. “Life is difficult,” he writes, but we gain purpose and meaning in life through meeting and solving life’s problems. Mature adults are disciplined, and this discipline manifests itself in the following abilities:

Deferred gratification, the ability to put up with discomfort in the short-term to obtain a reward in the long-term.
Acceptance of responsibility, the ability to own up to your thoughts and actions instead of blaming others.
Dedication to reality, the ability to deal with the world as it actually is, the ability to be completely honest.
Balancing, the ability to be flexible, to handle conflicting demands and desires.

But why be disciplined? What is the motive to develop self-control? Peck says that the bottom line is love.

What is Love?

The first part of The Road Less Traveled is devoted to discipline. The last part explores the notion of religion (or, more properly, spirituality) and “grace” (or luck or happenstance). But the middle of the book is one long lecture on the nature of love.

According to Peck, Love is not a feeling. It’s an action. It’s an extension of the self, a conscious effort to grow the self — or someone else:

I define love thus: The will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.

I love this definition because it moves beyond the idea of romantic love (which Peck calls a myth) to something more profound. And because the definition emphasizes the importance of self-love. Peck writes:

We cannot forsake self-discipline and at the same time be disciplined in our care for another. We cannot be a source of strength unless we nurture our own strength.

I’m reminded of something my friend Sally once said to me: “Self-care comes first.”

Peck stresses that love is not dependency. It is not self-sacrifice. Nor is it the same as “being in love” (which he calls cathexis, or a collapse of ego boundaries where you lose your sense of self). Instead, love is a choice. It requires effort. Peck says that love is a form of courage directed to nurture spiritual growth in ourselves and/or another person.

The principal form taken by the work of love is attention. When we love somebody — ourselves or another — we set aside other concerns to devote attention to the object of our affection. When we love our children, we give them attention. When we love our partner, we want to spend time with them. When we love ourselves, we spend time on personal development. The most important way to express love, to give attention, is to listen.

But love involves more than just attention. Love also requires independence. When you love yourself, you develop the courage to leave behind the parts of your life that were broken. It also requires the courage to spend time alone, by yourself, apart from the ones you love. “Genuine love not only respects the individuality of the other but actually seeks to cultivate it, even at the risk of separation or loss,” Peck writes.

It is only when one has take the leap into the unknown of total selfhood, psychological independence, and unique individuality that one is free to proceed along still higher paths of spiritual growth, and free to manifest love in its greatest dimensions.

Commitment is the foundation, the bedrock of any loving relationship. You cannot foster growth in yourself or anyone else if you are not constantly concerned with that growth. This reminds me of Brené Brown’s work on vulnerability and Jonathan Fields’ writing about uncertainty. In order to love, you must be willing to be vulnerable in the face of uncertainty, you must give yourself without the expectation of anything in return.

Peck argues that love also entails the risk of confrontation, of criticism. “Mutual loving confrontation is a significant part of all successful and meaningful human relationships,” he writes. “Without it the relationship is either unsuccessful or shallow.”

He also says that love is disciplined. To love well, you must properly manage your feelings. You cannot love everyone. And, as has been said, you cannot love others if you do not love yourself. When you love, you must “order your behavior” in a way that contributes to your own (or somebody else’s) spiritual growth.

All of this builds toward one interesting argument: Peck believes that psychotherapy — the work of counseling — is love:

For the most part, mental illness is caused by an absence of or defect in the love that a particular child required from its particular parents for successful maturation and spiritual growth. It is obvious, then, that in order to be healed through psychotherapy the patient must receive from the psychotherapist at least a portion of the genuine love of which the patient was deprived.

Love in the Larger World

The Road Less Traveled starts with discipline, moves to love, and ends with religion. Peck writes:

As human beings grow in discipline and love and life experience, their understanding of the world and their place in it naturally grows apace. Conversely, as people fail to grow in discipline, love and life experience, so does their understanding fail to grow.

Peck says that this “understanding” is each person’s religion. You might call it spirituality. Or a blueprint for life. Peck says that our blueprints are constructed primarily from our childhood family life. Our maps of reality are “microcosms of the family”, and they’re useful only insofar as these maps reflect the realities of the world around us. The problem is that often these maps only work for the particular family in which we were raised.

Note: Long-time readers will recognize this as being exactly like the notion of financial blueprints, which I’ve written about for five years now. Our attitudes about money are formed largely by our parents’ attitudes about money. What Peck is saying is that our mental blueprints are about more than money. They’re about all of life.

Ultimately, Peck argues, our aim in life is continued personal development, continued spiritual growth, ongoing self-love. As part of that, “a major and essential task in the process of one’s spiritual development is the continuous work of bringing one’s self-concept into progressively greater congruence with reality.”

Over the past five or six years, I’ve been on a mission to discover who I am. I’ve been learning to love myself. And I’ve been learning how to love other people. It’s been a fantastic experience, and I’m fortunate to have (or, in Peck’s words, “grace has provided”) friends who are in similar journeys and who are willing to share the experience.

This process isn’t over. It never will be. My aim is to continue learning until I die. Next up, I’ll be reading Carl Rogers’ On Becoming a Person and How People Change by Allen Wheelis. When I’m finished with those books, I’ll share what I learn with you. Because I don’t just want to nurture my own spiritual growth — I want to nurture yours too.

Desiderata: A Poem of Thanksgiving

I’m the kind of guy who likes traditions. I like familiarity and routine. Despite having made many major changes in my life over the past few years, I still find myself drawn to certain rituals, especially around the holidays.

For me, Thanksgiving Day is especially full of meaning. It’s my favorite holiday. I think it’s wonderful that we set aside a day each year to remember the good things we have. And I have many good things in my life.

As I always do at Thanksgiving, this year I’ll be reading and remembering and reaffirming my dedication to an 85-year-old prose poem from a man named Max Ehrmann. It does a fine job of encapsulating my life philosophy. A couple of years ago, on a whim, I de-versified it and converted it to prose paragraphs. It reads better this way:

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others — even to the dull and the ignorant — they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

This year, for the first time in my life, I won’t be spending Thanksgiving with my family. I’ll be with Kim’s family instead. But I’m okay with that. One of the many things I’m thankful for is new friends, and Kim has been the best new friend I’ve made in 2012.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Be well. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Escape from Freedom

“We cannot solve life’s problems except by solving them.” — M. Scott Peck

One reason I enjoy dating Kim is that although superficially we’re unalike, and although we’ve had vastly different life experiences, deep down we have similar values and life philosophies. This means we have some interesting conversations about the way the world works, and we each bring a different perspective to the discussion.

Last weekend, the topic turned to the nature of personal responsibility. Both of us believe strongly that each person is responsible for her own happiness, that each person is responsible for his own success. Yes, life deals better hands to some people than to others. Plus, some people seem to be luckier than other people. Ultimately, however, you are responsible for improving your own state in life. You cannot expect anyone else to better it for you.

Note: This belief is built into my tenets of personal finance. When I say “nobody cares more about your money than you do“, this is exactly what I mean. Yes, take advice from people. Yes, take advantage of the resources available to you. But ultimately, you are the one who responsible for building and growing your nest egg.

This discussion was reinforced on Monday as I continued to read through M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled. The entire first section of The Road Less Traveled is about personal responsibility, and there’s a great chapter on what Peck calls “the escape from freedom”. Here’s an excerpt (emphasis mine):

…Almost all of us from time to time seek to avoid — in ways that can be quite subtle — the pain of assuming responsibility for our own problems…

The difficulty we have in accepting responsibility for our behavior lies in the desire to avoid the pain of the consequences of that behavior…Whenever we seek to avoid the responsibility for our own behavior, we do so by attempting to give that responsibility to some other individual or organization or entity. But this means we then give away our power to that entity, be it “fate” or “society” or the government or the corporation or our boss. It is for this reason that Erich Fromm so aptly title his study of Nazism and authoritarianism Escape from Freedom. In attempting to avoid the pain of responsibility, millions and even billions daily attempt to escape from freedom.

As children, by virtue of our real and extensive dependency, our parents have real and extensive power over us. They are, in fact, largely responsible for our well-being, and we are, in fact, largely at their mercy. When parents are oppressive, as so often they are, we as children are largely powerless to do anything about it; our choices are limited. But as adults, when we are physically healthy, our choices are almost unlimited. That does not mean they are not painful. Frequently our choices lie between the lesser of two evils, but it is still within our power to make these choices.

…There are indeed oppressive forces at work within the world. We have, however, the freedom to choose every step of the way the manner in which we are going to respond to and deal with these forces.

…One of the roots of this “sense of impotence” in the majority of [people] is some desire to partially or totally escape the pain of freedom, and, therefore, some failure, partial or total, to accept responsibility for their problems and their lives. They feel impotent because they have, in fact, given their power away. Sooner or later…they must learn that the entirety of one’s adult life is a series of personal choices, decisions. If they can accept this totally, then they become free people. To the extent that they do not accept this they will forever feel themselves victims.

Again, I’m reminded of Harry Browne’s How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World. That entire book is about letting go of the idea that other people control our destiny, that we’re handcuffed to our past decisions. Browne, like Peck, argues that we’re responsible for our own freedom, our own happiness. But too many of us say “I can’t because…”

The reality is not that we can’t, but that we choose not to. It’s a subtle shift in framing things, but it’s an important one.

We Are What We Think

Today, while sorting notes for a big project I have planned for 2013 (my biggest project for 2013, actually), I found a scrap of paper on which I’d copied three excerpts of a buddhist poem. (Well, not a poem precisely, but close enough.) Each of these three verses comes from a different place in a single larger work.

We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.
Your worst enemy cannot hurt you
As much as your own thoughts, unguarded.

Love yourself and be awake —
Today, tomorrow, always.
You are your only master.
Drink deeply.
Live in serenity and joy.

Meditate.
Live purely.
Be quiet.
Do your work with mastery.

I copied these verses from Teachings of the Buddha, edited by Jack Kornfield. They’re each from the dhammapada, as translated by Thomas Byrom.

These sayings resonate with me; they encapsulate an important part of my world view. Namely, that we are each responsible for our own attitudes. How we see ourselves is how we see the world.

“We are what we think.”

Indeed.

On Self-Esteem and the Value of Time

Earlier this week, I mentioned Do the Work!, Steven Pressfield’s small book about overcoming procrastination and getting things done. Today, I want to share something I read recently in The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck.

My parents loved The Road Less Traveled when I was a boy, but I’ve never read it myself. Kim has a copy of it on her bookshelf, so I’ve been making my way through it slowly when I have downtime at her house. It’s interesting.

Peck’s book begins in a buddhic fashion, postulating that “life is difficult”. (The first of Buddha’s four noble truths is that “life is suffering”.) Peck argues that suffering is necessary, but that we can achieve mental and spiritual health by using four tools to cope with the challenges we face. Namely:

Delaying gratification
Accepting responsibility
Dedication to truth
Balancing

I don’t know what he means by all of these yet because I’m not very far in the book. I have, however, begun to read the section on delaying gratification, and I find it fascinating.

Note: Peck’s four tools for dealing with difficulties remind me a little of Don Miguel Ruiz’s The Four Agreements, which I shared last week.

I particularly liked this passage in which Peck explains that procrastination is, essentially, a manifestation of low self-esteem. If you don’t like yourself, you don’t value your time, and so you waste it or you put things off. (As always, emphasis is mine.)

When we love something it is of value to us, and when something is of value to us we spend time with it, time enjoying it and time taking care of it. Observe a teenager in love with his car and not the time he will spend admiring it, polishing it, repairing it, tuning it. Or an older person with a beloved rose garden, and the time spent pruning and mulching and fertilizing and studying it. So it is when we love children; we spend time admiring them and caring for them. We give them our time.

…

The time and the quality of the time that their parents devote to them indicate to the children the degree to which they are valued by their parents.

…

The feeling of being valuable — “I am a valuable person” — is essential to mental health and is a cornerstone of self-discipline. It is a direct product of parental love. Such a conviction must be gained in childhood; it is extremely difficult to acquire it in adulthood. Conversely, when children have learned through the love of their parents to feel valuable, it is almost impossible for the vicissitudes of adulthood to destroy their spirit.

This feeling of being valuable is a cornerstone of self-discipline because when one considers oneself valuable one will take care of oneself in all ways that are necessary. Self-discipline is self-caring. For instance — since we are discussing the process of delaying gratification, of scheduling and ordering our time — let us examine the matter of time. If we feel ourselves valuable, then we will feel our time to be valuable, and if we feel our time to be valuable, then we will want to use it well.

The financial analyst who procrastinated [mentioned earlier in the book] did not value her time. If she had, she would not have allowed herself to spend most of her day so unhappily and unproductively. It was not without consequence for her that throughout her childhood she was “farmed out” during all school vacations to live with paid foster parents although her parents could have taken care of her perfectly well had they wanted to. They did not value her. They did not want to care for her. So she grew up feeling herself to be of little value, not worth caring for; therefor she did not care for herself. She did not feel she was worth disciplining herself. Despite the fact that she was an intelligent and competent woman she required the most elementary instruction in self-discipline because she lacked a realistic assessment of her own worth and the value of her own time. Once she was able to perceive her time as being valuable, it naturally followed that she wanted to organize it and protect it and make maximum use of it.

I used to be a terrible procrastinator. I also used to waste my time on frivolities. Based on the above passage, it will probably come as no surprise to find that I had little self-esteem. I didn’t like myself, so no wonder I didn’t value my time.

Now, though, I’ve changed. I do like myself. I like who I am. I like what I do. And because I’ve found self-worth, my relationship with time has changed. Whereas I once wasted hours on mindless television or (especially) on videogames, I rarely do this anymore. (Sure, I play games and watch TV sometimes, but it’s a conscious choice, a chance to unwind now and then.) I’ve also become much better about procrastination. When I do procrastinate, it’s usually because I’ve done a poor job prioritizing, not because I’m unhappy with myself.

There’s a lot of good stuff in The Road Less Traveled; I can see why it has sold seven million copies. If I’d read it earlier in my life, it might be one of those foundational books that my personal philosophy is built upon. Actually, it may still become one of those books. I’m sure I’ll be sharing more insights from The Road Less Traveled as I slowly work my way through it.

Do the Work!

Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art is considered a classic among creative types, including bloggers. This thin book argues that the biggest enemy to productive work is Resistance, which takes the form of self-doubt, procrastination, addiction, distraction, perfectionism, and so on. The War of Art is a call to ignore Resistance and to do the work you’ve been called to do.

In his 2011 book, aptly titled Do the Work!, Pressfield again assaults this monster called Resistance. This time, however, he offers a step-by-step method for slaying the beast.

Before I left for Turkey, I spent a Sunday afternoon reading and taking notes on Do the Work! What emerged was a sort of workflow for accomplishing creative goals:

Don’t prepare. Begin. Allow yourself, at most, to read three books related to your subject.
Stay primitive. Don’t get fancy. Don’t try to be sophisticated.
Swing for the seats. Aim high. Go big or go home.
Outline your project on a single piece of legal-size paper. Your entire novel, business idea, or whatever should fit on one page.
Use a three-act structure: beginning, middle, end. Start at the end. Climax first. Then beginning. Then middle.
Get the idea down. You can polish and rewrite later.
Fill in the gaps. Once you have your outline, fill in the blanks. Have 7-8 major “sequences” (equivalent to 7-8 major scenes in a film).
Now allow yourself to do research, but only early or late in the day, never during prime working time.
Get your shitty first draft done ASAP. Don’t worry about quality. Act, don’t reflect. Momentum is everything. Do not judge yourself or your work at this point.
There are two components to writing (or any other act of creation): Acting is putting words on paper (writing) and reflecting is evaluating what’s on paper (editing). Never act and reflect at the same time.
Keep working!
The most important question is: “What is this about?” Once you have your theme, write it down. Post it. Nothing off-theme goes into the project.
Ask yourself what’s missing, then fill that void.
The two tests of Resistance are: “How badly do you want it?” and “Why do you want it?” You must be totally committed. You must want it for fun or beauty — or because you have no choice.

Getting work done is no longer a problem for me — though it used to be. If anything, I have the opposite problem: I’ve become a sort of work-a-holic. (Actually, I work like crazy from Monday to Thursday so that I can completely relax Friday through Sunday.)

That said, I love reading books like Do the Work! They show me how other creative types get things done. More than that, they provide added motivation. After I read these sorts of books, I come away energized and ready to do Great Things.

In fact, Do the Work! is one of the reasons More Than Money is up and operational today. If I hadn’t read the book, I’d probably still be trying to come up with the perfect blog name and design. I’d probably still be agonizing over what sorts of things to write about. Instead, I’ve simply begun. I’m doing the work. I can worry about perfectionism later.

Related reading: In a way, this book reminds me of George Leonard’s Mastery, which is the best book I’ve never reviewed. When I talk to people in Real Life, I often say that Mastery is the best book about personal finance I’ve ever read, even though it’s not a book about personal finance. Maybe I’ll get off my butt and review the book for More Than Money.