Judgment

“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.” — (Matthew 7:1-2)

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Judgment: We have judged; we have been judged; we have been warned about judging; we have tried not to judge, yet we go on judging. We continue to judge, because we are unable not to judge. One fundamental aspect of all creatures is that they make evaluations, and this built-in feature is one that we cannot disable or uninstall. We constantly make judgments about the world we encounter, and our lives depend upon these judgments. Being asked to not judge would be akin to asking us not to feel, not to have emotions, not to think … not to feel alive.

Since judgment requires taking a measure, it is intimately related to value. When we judge, we are measuring and assessing value, worthiness, or usefulness. We must make choices to survive; to make choices we need to evaluate, and because these decisions must often be made quickly and efficiently, we depend upon shortcuts. Our feelings are the shortcuts. Feelings provide us with immediate feedback. Individuals, who have lost the connections between their emotional system and their executive functions due to an accident will experience decision paralysis, stress, and grow very agitated when they must make a choice, even a simple one.

If we must judge to live, then why the negative judgment about judgment? The above verse from the book of Matthew seems to hint that the prohibition has something to do with the way you judge. Do we judge others in the way that we want them to judge us? One of the most universal human biases is the attribution bias. This is the tendency when judging others for us to assume their behavior is the result of internal factors, such as their personality, yet assuming our own actions arise because of the necessity of external circumstances. We see others as having character defects and ourselves as victims of circumstance. We are biased, prejudiced, and far from rational beings — we do not judge fairly.

A person’s judgments reflect the essence of their personality and identity, which involves an ongoing dance between their inborn traits and their experiences in life. Because our judgments are so fundamental to us, we often assume that our particular judgments should be just as fundamental to others; but our judgments reflect our unique perspective, and therein lies the problem. Our judgments reflect our valuation, rather than a universal standard. Most of us rarely question the basis of our judgments, though we are quick to question the basis of others’ judgments — when they differ from ours or are directed at us.

When others’ evaluations are similar to our own, they are felt to be right, good, or okay and sometimes universal. However, when others’ evaluations differ from ours, they feel wrong or bad. We enjoy being with others who share our perspective, because the more consensus gathered around a judgment, the truthier it feels to us, and the more justified we feel. This is often the basis for the communities with which we choose to associate. Another person’s evaluation of us can either build us up or tear us down, unite us or divide us. Most of us prefer to be to be with people who build us up, yet in doing so, we often unite through tearing down those who differ from us.

Judgment is here to stay. The challenge will be to own our judgments as a subjective viewpoint. We need more education on how our minds deceive us along with more awareness of our personal biases, prejudices, and values. This will not happen without intentional effort, practice, and feedback from supportive guides. Humanity needs more dialogue, but if we do not understand the subjective nature of our consciousness, then wars, on both the personal and global levels, will continue indefinitely.

“All war is a symptom of man’s failure as a thinking animal.”   — John Steinbeck


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Out of the One, Many

“from the many to the One; from the diversity so obvious to the senses, to the unity which is the fruit of inward realization: such is the general trend in religious thought.” — Phirozshah Dorabji Mehta, Indian-born writer and lecturer on religious topics

Wlight-split-into-spectrum-by-prismhen we work our way backwards to first principles, we arrive at the One, the ground of our being. This source might be conceived spiritually or scientifically, depending upon whether the nature of this ground is assumed to be subject or object, animate or inanimate. These different metaphysical perspectives divide us and impact the assumptions we make about how life and consciousness may be connected.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Regardless of unifying first principles, existentially we experience a world of many pieces. Mind functions like a prism and separates the rudimentary singularity into legion.

“The forming of wholes, or categories, is what the brain does best, and the effect is powerful. A real world and a constant self depend on it.”  — Jason W. Brown, M.D,. neurologist

At a fundamental level, creating categories is what mind does. Its organizing process tags the created categories with feelings, leading to a subjective experience where all knowledge is both categorical and emotional. We experience a world split into objects that differ in their value for satisfying our needs. Feelings provide us feedback about the world we perceive and vary in the extent to which our needs are anticipated or met. They are part of a complex system that values what we encounter in terms of its worth or threat.

The precision and complexity of our evaluations can be measured in part by the extensiveness of our categories and the extent to which we can see their dimensional nature. Dimensional thinking allows us to see the metaphorical “gray” between the black and white and points to the unifying connection at the ground of our being. Simple black and white judgments reflect fundamental emotionally based categories, such as good or bad, right or wrong, approach or avoid, fight or flight. These intuitive judgments are often necessary for the quick decisions needed to ensure our survival and to reduce the cognitive load and time required for complex thinking. Often referred to as heuristic techniques, these quick approaches to problem solving are shortcuts which can aid rapid decision making.

While mental shortcuts hard-wired by natural selection are necessary for quick decisions, over-reliance on them at the macro-level (of a complex, inter-connected, and overpopulated world) and micro-level (of a more intimate interpersonal relationships) easily leads to conflict. Even though we have evolved the capacity for more intricate and complex thought it is not instinctive for us. Shifting from reflexive judgments to a more contextual and dimensional approach is demanding and takes intention; however, conflict resolution usually requires it. Accessing this more evolved level of thinking requires expanding our accessible categories and managing the intensity of our emotions.

“In emotional turmoil, the upward influence of subcortical emotional circuits on the higher reaches of the brain are stronger than the top-down controls. Although humans can strengthen and empower the downward controls through emotional education and self-mastery, few can ride the whirlwind of unbridled emotions with great skill.” — Jaak Panksepp, Estonian-born American psychologist, psychobiologist, and neuroscientist

Given that nothing stings like being misjudged, criticized, and rejected and nothing soothes like empathy, understanding, and acceptance, practicing a style of discernment that is rooted in an intricate and more compassionate evaluation seems well advised. Unresolved conflict divides us and often results in feelings of disconnection. If we are connected at a fundamental level, especially if that connection is at the level of our consciousness or essential being, then one would expect feelings of disconnection to be painful and feelings of connection to be pleasurable. Achieving harmony is a process of connecting through discovering and experiencing our unity. All the king’s horses and men were unable to put Humpty Dumpty together again, but could they still see Humpty Dumpty in the pieces?

Brown, J. (2000). Mind and Nature: Essays on Time and Subjectivity. London: Whurr Publishers, p. 7

Mehta, P. (1956). Early Indian Religious Thought. London: Luzac and Co., p. 347

Panksepp, J. (1998). Affective Neuroscience: The Foundations of Human and Animal Emotions. New York: Oxford University Press, Inc., p. 301


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Two Worlds

Rodin-The-ThinkerI seem to live in two worlds. One that might be called my “inner world” consists of my private thoughts, emotions, images, and sensations. The other which appears to me as an “outer world” is a shared world that consists of other beings (those who seem to possess an inner world) and objects (things that do not seem to possess an inner world). These two worlds make up my universe; nothing else exists…for me.

The interplay between these two worlds is complex. Much of what could be said to exist in my outer world, exists only in my inner world. For example, I have never been to Africa, so I have never experienced it in my outer world, I have never touched it, seen it, heard it, tasted it, or smelled it. The continent of Africa is an outer world shared by over one billion people that for me, exists only in my inner world through second hand experiences.

neo-wakes-upMy office, where I sit now, exists in my outer and inner world. My inner world, ostensibly fed by the “actual” outer world through my senses, makes my office appear to me as a part of my outer world. It seems real, but how do I know for certain what is real? The philosophical position of solipsism holds that the “outer world” cannot be known. Extreme forms of solipsism deny any outer world, which includes all the other inner worlds. The plot of the science fiction film “The Matrix,” plays with the concept that the outer world is constructed by the mind. The Matrix, a designed outer world, is a complex computer program which humans directly interface with through ports connected to their brains. The humans in the Matrix experience an outer world that does not really exist “out there.”

Chaplin.mirrorDebates about the nature of the outer world are not only happening in philosophy and science fiction, but increasingly in the scientific community. Thinking about the “realness” of my outer world can twist my mind in a Gordian Knot if I am not careful. Yet, I must also take heed of the other extreme, namely over-belief in the outer world. Questioning the outer worlds’ existence generally comes from an intellectual position, not an experiential one. Experientially, the outer world feels certain. Much of my inner world does too. I tend to believe my thoughts and interpretations. Certainty feels good, and these feelings are often necessary for survival — doubting the realness of the world is not a trait that will likely contribute to many descendants.

We crave certainty in both of our worlds; so much that we fight for it when someone challenges our sense of it. While we like suspense, surprise, and mystery, we do not like to sit with these feelings indefinitely. We ultimately want resolution; we want certainty. This can drive us in positive ways to understand our experience, and to use that understanding to improve our existence. But, this craving for certainty has the potential to destroy us. We see evidence of this in political, religious and other interpersonal clashes. What happens when two sides both feel certain of incompatible positions? Certainty can block mutual understanding, empathy, giving others the benefit of the doubt, or meeting in the middle. These are essential diplomatic and interpersonal relationship skills.

I am trying to learn how to question my own certainty, and to live a life that can embrace uncertainty. The scientific method, an approach based on confirming or disconfirming hypotheses based on empirical evidence, may be the closest that we can get to certainty in a subjective world. It provides a structured way to dialogue and find consensus about our shared outer world. Yet, consensus is still lacking, even science is subject to biases and current paradigms. Humans are naturally stubborn and resistant to evidence that works against their beliefs, even when it might provide a better explanation.

population-2014There are over seven billion people in our consensual outer world, each possessing a different inner world; each providing a unique perspective on the outer world; each potentially at odds with many of the others; each feels their “truth” deeply, craves understanding, and desires some sense of connection. The interplay of these many worlds might not be survivable, but if we are going to make it, then we must learn how to live together between the inner and outer worlds. Science alone is not enough, we must also find ways to understand, abide, and share our bewildering inner worlds.

“I like the scientific spirit—the holding off, the being sure but not too sure, the willingness to surrender ideas when the evidence is against them: this is ultimately fine—it always keeps the way beyond open—always gives life, thought, affection, the whole man, a chance to try over again after a mistake—after a wrong guess.”

Walt Whitman


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Impending Doom

RiverThe game begins when we are tossed into the river of life. Unable to swim on our own, we begin totally reliant on others. These guardians provide the raft, and help structure our experience. The rafts vary in their capability to match the demands of the river. Some can move to smoother waters, while others never stray far from peril. Every alternative shapes our experience, pleasure and pain directing our path as we seek more of one and less of the other. Pain echoes the roar of what inextricably draws the river’s current. Is it perilous or is it benign? That roar, which reminds us that life on the river is fragile, is an existential given in our lives, and in all the life that has gone before us — impending doom.

The word impending has its origin in the Latin word “impendēre” which means to hang over, to be imminent. Doom has several contemporary meanings, including unavoidable bad fortune, ruin or death, an unfavorable judgment, decision or sentence. AlfredTheGreatYet, the etymology of doom is from an Anglo-Saxon word, “dom,” that means judgment or law. As an aside, it turns out, my 35th great-grandfather, King Alfred The Great (848-901 C.E.), compiled a dom-boc (doom book or law code) which attempted to blend the Mosaic code with Christian principles and three pre-existing Saxon codes. Winston Churchill credited the Laws of Alfred, which were continually amplified by his successors, as the basis for what grew into that body of common law, which has guided and constrained much of the world.

Games are built around rules, and the game of life is no exception. Rules of all sorts hang over us in life. Human laws, natural laws, and a myriad of rules connected to our personal and commercial interactions in the world, foremost are those we feel from within. Like King Alfred, we each create a personal dom-boc. This “creation” is an implicit process, generally happening outside our awareness, and built upon a foundation developed in our earliest years of childhood. Emotional interaction with our dom-boc is a fundamental activity of our minds. We live in fear of breaking the rules, being found out, judged, sentenced…doomed, whether by God, nature, or our fellow human — no wonder fear, anxiety, and worry play such a central role in living. While commonalities abound, we each have a unique dom-boc. We each construe the rules of the game and feel something slightly different hanging over us. While we tend to judge others based on our personal rules, since no one plays the same game or has the same rule book, we should consider caution in these evaluations.

There are many ways to play this game, so each of us faces our own version of impending doom. Each mind, to one degree or another, scans for what is deemed a meaningful threat, danger, or judgment — our flavor of impending doom. Impending doom is an inner experience, its meaning and consequences are constructed by the mind, and this perception frames our experience and sets limits on our actions and even our thoughts. We cannot cheat the game, but not all the rules are as rigid as we might suppose. Sometimes it makes sense to question authority, especially when that authority commands from our subconscious. Paying attention to the rules that guide our lives can be very revealing. When we shift our rules, the game changes. We each have to play our own game, which involves determining our purpose, our set of rules, and managing our experience of impending doom. How that balance is achieved, is the essence of the game.

“I am willing to take life as a game of chess in which the first rules are not open to discussion. No one asks why the knight is allowed his eccentric hop, why the castle may only go straight and the bishop obliquely. These things are to be accepted, and with these rules the game must be played: it is foolish to complain of them.”

W. Somerset Maugham


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

The Simulation Chamber

Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard.
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Inside the DFS (Dynamic Flight Simulator)A simulation is an attempt to replicate a real-world situation in order to gain insight for training, designing, modeling, or researching. They are often used when the real-world process cannot be encountered directly due to threatening conditions, inaccessibility, lack of appropriate resources, or in many other situations where to do so is impossible or unacceptable. Simulation is something the human mind does quite well —sometimes too well.

On September 12, 1962, President Kennedy delivered his “We choose to go to the moon” speech to persuade the American people to support NASA’s effort to fly a manned mission to the moon. Only a creature capable of great imagination would even consider this endeavor and only one with the ability to simulate could pull it off. On the third mission to put a man on the surface of the moon (Apollo 13), the survival of the pilots, following an explosion in space, can be attributed in large part to the ground crew’s ability to simulate and find solutions to the problApollo-13-gary-siniseems the flight crew was facing. The 1995 movie, Apollo 13, depicts the grounded crew member, Ken Mattingly (played by Gary Sinise), working diligently in a Lunar Module simulator to solve the problem of how to do a space-based power up of the Command Module that would avoid shorting out the electrical systems. The “successful failure” of Apollo 13 was described by some as NASA’s finest hour, and it was a clear example of the power of the mind’s ability to simulate.

Looking through a natural selection lens, we can appreciate how ancestors, who had a greater ability to simulate, and thus, anticipate a lethal threat or engage complex social relationships, would leave more offspring than their counterparts. In a dangerous woTiger-in-the-grassrld, it is better to make a Type I error, thinking the rustling grass is a predator when it isn’t (false positive), than the Type II error, thinking there is not a predator when there is one (false negative). Too much simulation, however, and our ancestors might never have left their caves. There was a place for the “cowards” and the “valiant” in our history, and both have passed on their genes.

Mental simulations are an essential component of being a social species. The ability to anticipate others’ reactions helps to guide our behavior. In contemporary society, our simulating minds often become carried away with “what if” simulations. “What if-ing” is a popular activity of the wandering mind. Balance is called for because mental simulations pull our emotions along with them, giving us jolts of anxiety, fear, anger, jealousy and a host of other negative and/or positive emotions. Most of us have already died “many times”  in our effort to avoid Type I errors. The worrying mind is not aided by the massive amounts of risk assessment information now instantly available to warn us of the dangers that we face in every area of our lives. Perhaps the biggest challenge is the extent to which we become so immersed in our simulations that we forget that we are even running a simulation. This leads to believing the results of these simulations as if they were prophecies. Swept up in our dark imaginings, life becomes almost uninhabitable.

Ironically, much of our suffering springs from our efforts to resist difficulty, pain, and even death. Shakespeare’s Caesar seems to advise less resistance and a more accepting frame of mind. This involves spending more time being with “what is” and that means looking “at” our simulations rather than looking “from” them.  More clearly seeing mental simulations for what they really are, means spending a lot less time suffering and dying.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Politics And Religion

Over the holidays I made a decision to loosen my tongue in reaction to a comment that ran counter to my political sensibilities. This conversation went awry, as these types of conversations often do, and I later regretted engaging the topic. I had a number of negative internal reactions including feeling judgmental, angry, misunderstood, defensive, hurt, and sad. I am fairly sure that the person I was speaking with had a similar set of reactions. Most of us have heard the adage that reminds us to avoid such topics as they can lead to conflict; however, people handle conflict in different ways and have different comfort levels with it. Some have ongoing outward and/or buried conflict, some avoid or withdraw from conflict, while others successfully work through conflict. Core differences between people easily lead to conflict, and how they are handled can have a strong impact on how close people feel to one another. Neither the conflict, nor the avoidance and disconnection feel good. I have often wished it was easier to engage with and communicate about these heartfelt issues in a way that did not feel bad. I believe that understanding subjectivity and engaging in dialogue diminish conflict and lead to greater empathy, though it is not easy. I, like most people, continue to be fooled by my perceptions that I am right and others are wrong.

After my initial feelings about my failed dialogue started to fade, and I was able to reflect with a “cooler head,” I recalled a summary of Jonathan Haidt’s book, The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided By Politics And Religion. This helped shift my thinking away from what we were arguing “about” towards what we were arguing “for” — a subtle shift that had a big impact. I was motivated to read Haidt’s book in order to better understand why it is so difficult for people to appreciate the viewpoints of their rivals.

Man is not a rational animal, he is a rationalizing animal.
— Robert A. Heinlein

cart_before_the_horse1Haidt argues that our rational explanations do not drive our moral judgments. Rather, they are post hoc fictions which make sense of our intuitions and help persuade others to join our “team.” (See also Pretty Good Stories and “Dark” Awareness). These “intuitive ethics” are built upon several innate psychological systems.

One of the most basic and oldest (from an evolutionary perspective) of these psychological systems stems from the revulsion reaction of disgust. (See also Contempt). While this emotion initially served to protect us from disease and contamination, over time it was elicited by others’ behavior — an early inkling of moral judgment. As mammals, we form tight bonds with our children, an instinct which has expanded beyond the family unit allowing for a capacity to feel empathy for all living things. The ability to form bonds allowed us to be social, and we developed the ability to form groups and coalitions. These coalitions usually involved some form of hierarchical organization where some group members would use their influence to take on leadership and others would defer to this leadership and/or power. Groups would develop rules and customs built around reciprocal altruism to maintain order and fairness. However to maintain stability they needed to deal with threats to their group’s integrity. One threat is from “freeloaders” who take advantage of the benefits of the group without contributing themselves. Another type of threat is from dominating or oppressive leaders. The process of natural selection has hardwired all of these systems into our subconscious minds which subsequently drive our emotions and our intuitive ethics.

Haidt and his colleagues focused their study on six moral foundations which, like moral taste receptors, flavor our judgments. Having a language for these foundations helps to clarify many of the cross-cultural, religious, and political differences that so often confuse us. Cultures implicitly construct their values, their representative stories, and their institutions upon these foundations. The six foundations, along with their targeted threat and basic value, are:

  1. Care/harm — cherishing and protecting others
  2. Fairness/cheating — justice according to shared rules
  3. Liberty/oppression — fighting tyranny
  4. Loyalty/betrayal — being true to your in-group
  5. Authority/subversion — respect for legitimate authority
  6. Sanctity/degradation — purity or abhorrence for disgusting things

Just as different foods draw upon different flavor combinations, different cultures have their unique “recipes.” This can easily be seen in political or religious cultures. Often two opposing cultures rely on the same foundation but with a different emphasis (e.g. pro-life individuals emphasize the sanctity of human life, while environmentalist emphasize the sanctity of the earth; different populist groups fight the tyranny of corporations or the tyranny of the government). Or they might emphasize a different foundation for different issues (e.g., conservatives might draw upon the sanctity foundation when fighting for the life of the unborn but draw upon the authority foundation or fairness foundation when fighting for enforcement of the death penalty). The in-group for each “culture” can also range widely — from the universal to much closer to home. Different in-groups and different foundations can lead to very different attitudes and sometimes very confusing and seemingly inconsistent behavior.

As in my “discussion,” much of the time we speak past one another because we see the other person’s position as wrong or immoral, and we feel compelled to convince them that ours is the best or more moral perspective. This is dangerous territory for a relationship — a slippery slope that leads to contempt. I still disagree with many positions that differ from my own; I still feel my perspective is better, but I understand, that like everyone else, I am hard-wired to have a “righteous mind.” I feel my beliefs and do not intuitively share my opponent’s beliefs — the feelings that back up their views are outside of my awareness. My rational mind can sometimes let me know when my “righteous mind” is acting up. The language of moral foundations is a great tool in this regard; it has helped to shift my perspective so I see more clearly what each of us is fighting for. This opens the door for empathy in a similar way that seeing the need behind an action can. As a species cursed to confuse our subjective perspective as objective, we need all the help we can get.

Haidt, J. (2012) The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided By Politics And Religion. New York: Pantheon. See the book’s website: RighteousMind.com


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Black Boxes

black-boxI can only dwell in my personal experience. As the protagonist of my story, I am the subject and everyone and everything else is an object to me. Likewise, I am an object to everyone else who encounters me. Not only can I not enter another’s subjective experience, but I am unable to experience myself as an object. I live inside the “black box” that I am to others, a box that prevents me from experiencing the outside of the box. From inside my black box, I interact with other black boxes. I can never experience others’ subjectivity, and they cannot experience mine. This is an existential predicament — a predicament replete with peril and opportunity.

The peril stems from our instinctive feel that we are the experts of ourselves. We do indeed have access to exclusive information about ourselves which makes us experts of a sort, but this expertise is both biased and limited. The insufficiency of our expertise tends to be neglected like a blind spot. Like the eye’s blind spot, we fill in the missing information — never realizing it was missing in the first place.

Abiding in the midst of ignorance, thinking themselves wise and learned, fools go aimlessly hither and thither, like blind led by the blind. — Katha Upanishad

Communication with others often leads to the blind debating the blind and arguing about what they cannot see. We feel so sure of what we know that what we do not know is ignored. What we do not know is in part what others know, and here lies the opportunity.

Accepting our ignorance, opens the door to knowledge and intimacy. If, in my blindness, I can accept rather than reject the perspective of another, then my world is expanded.

The road to self-insight runs through other people.
— David Dunning

Successfully negotiating this existential predicament requires skill and eloquence. Feedback can be given in many ways, only some of which are effective. Effectiveness is increased when both parties acknowledge their “blindness.” This leads to dialogue, a type of mindful communication that is collaborative and open-minded rather than oppositional and close-minded. Dialogue does not come natural to most of us, but it is vital to learn if we ever hope to be the experts of ourselves.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Hot Potato

open-mind-for-a-new-world-paulo-zerbatoI construct my world. My selective sensory input percolates through my unique brain wiring which has been shaped by my experiential mélange. Even the events I have shared with others are singularly mine. This constructed world appears to me so instantaneously, so automatically that I find it almost unfathomable that billions of worlds are simultaneously appearing to other perspectives. I interact with these other perspectives daily, encounters that hold the potential to transform my constructed world. Most of the time, I resist transformation by clinging tightly to my world and viewing my experience in such a way that my world is validated anew. This is easily accomplished when others corroborate my perspective. Group consensus authenticates the “realness” of my world. Those that fall outside my chosen consensus, my tribe, can be easily stigmatized and perhaps ostracized.

My challenge is conflicting with those in my tribe, those I love and whom I generally agree with. My reflex is to regard them as wrong. While this feels true, it seems to exacerbate the conflict because they seem to have the same reflex. They think that I am wrong when I think that they are wrong. It seems that no one appreciates being told they are wrong or bad. Being wrong challenges the world we have constructed and it has the potential of wreaking havoc to its foundation and maintenance. The coherence of our world is essential to our stability, so our world must be defended. Blame is a weapon, Fortress on a hilland most of us keep it readily accessible. Blaming others removes the stench of wrongness or badness and allows us to feel virtuous, perhaps even superior. Superiority feels safer, like a fortress on a hill which keeps threats below us. It preserves our constructed world, it helps us feel stable. However, no one seems to appreciate being blamed, thus, a hot potato game of blame ensues — escalation in the war of righteousness.

Some part of me understands this conundrum, can observe its carnage and wants to escape the push and pull of blame, criticism, defense and avoidance. While it is easy to see that those who disagree with me live in subjective and very biased worlds, this part understands that my experience in life is equally subjective. It takes a lot of work and practice to act on this understanding. This work feels worthwhile. Since no one wants to hold the hot potato of blame, it is relieving that there is an alternative to tossing it to someone else. This hot potato can be abandoned in most conflicts. I can be upset without the other person having to be wrong, bad or even at fault. The negative impact of another’s actions, does not imply negative intent — correlation does not imply causation. This is a very hard lesson for a mind programmed for debate, though it can learn to dialogue. As I learn to escape the blame-game, conflict is more easily and more successfully resolved, but escaping this game will take significant practice.

“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.” — Robert J. Hanlon


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Status

58949722 / State Opening of ParliamentFrom the schoolyards to the networking events to the red carpet, it is intuitively felt. As a social species, humans are highly attuned to social status; one might say that we have a built in “status detector.” Natural selection has rewarded individuals having higher status with better access to mates and food and subsequently more offspring, along with other benefits that improve quality of life. Research suggests that our brain chemistry and subsequently our emotions, mood and behavior are heavily impacted by our position in the social hierarchy.

“Serotonin levels are not innate and inflexible. They are themselves the product of social status. The higher your self-esteem and social rank relative to those around you, the higher your serotonin level is…. There is little doubt that the monkey’s mood is set by its high serotonin levels. If you artificially reverse the pecking order so the monkey is now a subordinate, not only does its serotonin drop, but its behavior changes, too. Moreover, much the same seems to happen in human beings.” — Matt Ridley

Lance Armstrong Tour De FranceHumans ascribe status in many different ways, but these typically come through two basic pathways: gained through achievement or assigned in some way based on aspects such as sex, age or physical characteristics or through background such as lance-armstrongone’s ethnic group or family. Societies can differ on which types of status they emphasize and how rigid the boundaries are between the layers. Status systems create a hierarchy within society that provides those at the top more power and privilege. One might say that these entrenched ways of assigning status create a strong current that can make it difficult and at times impossible to contravene. Within these systems, there are frequently crosscurrents, when various categories of status intersect (for example, women high in social status before women’s suffrage). And, just as status can be gained or assigned, it can be lost or forfeited.

The concept of fraternization occurs when someone within a given status system engages in social relations with people from a different strata as though they were siblings, personal friends or lovers. The resulting impact of these systems is to effect inequality, which leads many institutions and societies to enforce strong prohibitions against fraternizing. This flows from the recognition that intimate relationships work best between peers. Unequal power can distort romantic relationships and create conditions of imbalance that may lead to unresolvable conflict. So, although it is based on a perceived place in the hierarchy, it has dramatic results and impacts our emotions, mood, even physiology and behavior, which one can clearly see in the conduct of winners (arms and chest held aloft) and losers (shoulders and head lowered). Feelings of contempt towards others reflect a perceived higher status, while feelings of resentment reflect perceived lower status. Those above judge and criticize, while those below defend. Aggression comes from a place of power, while passive-aggressive or terroristic behaviors spring from perceived lower status.

Status emerges in human relationships from deep within our subconscious minds, often catching us unaware. It is often reified in institutions and in society as a whole, even considered to be imbued by nature or divinity. Resistance to this idea has been germinating for years challenging nature’s push and society’s hold. There is growing concern about the levels of inequality in the distribution of wealth and resources. We almost universally find it humorous when the pompous are brought down, and some say this is the essence of much of our humor. We are also keenly aware of hypocrisy, especially of those in places of power and prestige. If we notice this force in our lives, and notice that it is based on perception, then we can more consciously consider what role we want it to actually play in our lives and relationships. Significant healing can be achieved when the lowly are lifted up and the playing field starts to level. Given our propensity towards ascribing status, perhaps with greater consciousness, healthier systems of status might emerge which draw out the best in us rather than our baser instincts.

“Human beings are a species splendid in their array of moral equipment, tragic in their propensity to misuse it, and pathetic in their constitutional ignorance of the misuse.” — Robert Wright


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Contempt

“Nothing living should ever be treated with contempt. Whatever it is that lives, a man, a tree, or a bird, should be touched gently, because the time is short. Civilization is another word for respect for life.” — Elizabeth Goudge

Four horsemen

Relationship researcher, John Gottman, has identified four maladaptive emotional reactions that are so toxic for relationships that he has used an end times metaphor from the Book of Revelation to describe them. Gottman’s four horsemen (criticism, defensiveness, contempt, stonewalling) often occur in a negative cascade between partners and represent increasingly severe complementary adverse behavior. While each of these behaviors is destructive, Gottman’s research has identified contempt as the single greatest predictor of divorce. Contempt often becomes mutual and this generally foretells the end times of the relationship, or at a minimum, years of misery.

Robert Solomon, a philosophy professor at the University of Texas, distinguished the three emotions, resentment, anger and contempt from one another based on whether the object of the emotion was deemed to be of higher, equal or lower status. When you have contempt toward another, you are judging the other as beneath consideration, worthless, or deserving scorn, which simultaneously places you in the superior position of a judge. Interestingly, judges preside “over” and sit “above” the courtroom, and violation or disrespect of the court proceedings can lead to a charge of contempt.

The emotion of contempt combines the primary emotions of anger and disgust; thus, one might say that the person feeling contempt, likely feels threatened by someone for whom they feel revulsion. One can see the insidious, damaging impact this emotion has on a relationship; contempt is a cold, condemnation of being an object of disgust, which communicates to the condemned that they should remove themselves from the presence of their superior. This is precisely what happens.

When contempt transpires within couples and families the impact is particularly devastating. To be judged as disgusting by those from whom you most crave acceptance cuts the deepest wounds where we are most vulnerable.  Tragically, children will inevitably align with their parents’ opinion and feel self-contempt, which can lead to a lifetime of highly critical internal dialogue. The devaluing impact of contempt is so painful that many will try to fight off its sting through defensiveness, withdrawal or by developing an impenetrable emotional barrier.

The emotion of disgust, which is part of the contempt formula, evolved to protect us from disease and became part of our behavioral immune system. As it started being applied to people, usually those who carried disease, it became a more established part of our emotional repertoire and was applied to foreigners or nonconformists. In today’s interconnected world we find ourselves drowning in a sea of contempt. Contempt is modeled daily by our leaders, leaders-to-be and the pundits who analyze them. Society’s disadvantaged feel it the most.

We fall into contempt far too easily, and it seems that we have lost sight of its calamitous repercussions. If only we could maintain a sense of shared humanity and keep the playing field level; then we might be able to experience our anger and upset without having to degrade the other person’s dignity. This takes humility, a natural antidote to contempt. Humility is aided through recognition of our subjectivity and drawing upon compassion, both of which will require some reprogramming of our natural tendencies. Our eyes point outwards and we mistake our perceptions for objective truth. Perhaps, we could come off our high horse and remember that there is always more to the other than what we experience.

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you’ve been missing the whole point of the ocean. Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.”
― Dave Barry


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Reality

Virtual Reaility“Reality” is a term frequently used, yet it may be poorly understood and unhelpful. As a concept, it represents that which exists independent of mind. In using the term I think we are trying to make a distinction between that which is objective, observable and measurable from that which is subjective, hidden and unmeasurable. Common sense suggests that we can easily make this distinction. The “real” is valued, seen as superior and is equated with truth. Our language suggests that something which is not real is subordinate, counterfeit or fictitious. If someone is out of touch with reality, then they are considered insane.

It is quite difficult to communicate or carry on a relationship with someone who does not see reality as we do. Communication depends upon finding some common ground. Relationships and societies are built around shared perspectives. The concept of reality is explicitly or implicitly at the center of almost all interpersonal conflict whether at the micro or macro level. From marital conflict to disputes between global powers, disagreement about “truth” and “reality” are at the core. As individuals, we crave understanding and empathy from others in part because we want our view of reality validated. When others do not see life as we do, we start to feel isolated, alone and somewhat crazy. This activates our innate stress responses of “fight or flight.” Globally this can lead to terrorism, war and a host of other crises. Interpersonally, it can lead to ongoing conflict, fighting, divorce and alienation.

If reality is “really” out there and it feels so real, why do we have such a difficult time seeing it the same way? That it actually exists can be disputed, and because it can be called into question, it makes me think that reality is not a very helpful concept. Physicists and other scientists strive to identify the fundamentals of matter, which for most of us are at the heart of what is real. Unfortunately, the closer they look, the more bizarre it appears to be. Social scientists increasingly understand the impact of gender, culture, language and personal experience on our worldview.

Since language influences our perception and our thinking, we might look for ways to get away from using terms like reality. If we can achieve this, the need for common ground will be no less important, but the way we think about that common ground will need to change. I suggest this shift will highlight subjectivity and move away from concepts such as reality towards terms such as empirical and intersubjective. The former term already involves the latter. Since the scientific method involves observation and measurement along with peer review it already incorporates and tries to account for the impact of the subjective. With science, observations can be confirmed and validated but an awareness of error remains.

The more our vernacular can incorporate the impact our biology, experience and who knows what else has on our perception, the easier this change can be achieved. While this transformation can happen quickly at the individual level, there is evidence it is gradually transpiring at the global level.

Moving away from reality, in this sense, is not insane. It begins to level the playing field among Earth’s creatures. It moves us away from leaders who claim to know the truth and want to define it for the rest of us. It moves us away from shame and judgment. This moves us towards dialogue. This moves us towards consensus and cooperation. This moves us toward peace.

If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.
— Nelson Mandela


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Life is a game

Game: a competitive activity involving skill, chance, or endurance on the part of two or more persons who play according to a set of rules, usually for their own amusement or for that of spectators.

Board-Game-LifeIt could be that life is a game. You are assigned a player; you get an avatar and you are placed on the board. The player you are assigned seeming to make a big difference in this game, as does the appearance of your avatar and where you happen to be placed on the board. Some players seem to start with many more advantages, while many others seem to have been significantly handicapped. These handicaps can dramatically effect the results of a player’s game and there are locations on the board that can make staying in the game very challenging.

Games involve rules, but in this game you do not know the rules in advance. You pick them up as you play or the game ends. You absorb most of the rules without even realizing it. Other players, especially those closest to you on the board, may share the rules that they think are the basis of the game, however, it can be quite confusing when you see that everyone seems to play under slightly different rules. There are only a few rules that are sometimes called “laws of physics” which appear to apply to everyone. There are some rules that seem especially important and many other rules seem to work like guardrails to keep you from breaking the critical rules.

It is quite likely that you will never realize that you are playing a game. The stakes appear to be very high and most of the players are taking the game quite seriously; players rarely acknowledge to one another that they are even playing a game. There seems to be all manner of strategies that other players take in the game and this too can be quite confusing. This may or may not lead you to try to figure out what the game is all about. Most of us absorb an implicit understanding of this and just play accordingly. It is often easier to judge that others are playing the game incorrectly or just do not know the rules than to go through great efforts to determine the purpose of the game. These players adopt someone else’s rule book and let that calm their uncertainty and angst about the purpose and rules.

Managing energy level and hedonic tone seem to be very important in the game. The interaction with the other players seems to be a primary way this is done. Players seem to spend much of their time figuring out a strategy of how to establish and maintain relationships with other players and how best to earn and use their tokens (a.k.a. money). Players grow very attached to other players and find it very difficult when they are struggling or when their game ends.

Players seem to vary in how much amusement they get from playing the game. I suspect that many do not enjoy the game. This seems to be a function of the rule book, and how others play the game. The concept of winning is a big question due to the obscurity of the rules and purpose of the game. It does seem that many feel that only some players can win. These players seem hell-bent on “winning” their game regardless of what it means to the other players. There are also players that think that no one can win the game, while others believe everyone can.

New players are continually being added to the game. They require the help of others if they are going to make it in the game. Players at all levels are just as consistently exiting the game. Remaining players may try to learn from these exits. It seems like the game ends when the avatar can no longer function in the game, but game-overs remain a big mystery of the whole game.

If life is a game, then I wonder whose game it is and who these players really are? Who is manifesting all of these avatars? Could they come from one source? Could it be that there is only one player —a source that is capable of actualizing all the players on the board? This source might have imagined this amazing game, perhaps even many other amazing games — imagining and fully immersing in the games, so fully that for a time true identity is lost in the characters played.

If this is what the game is all about, then why should my avatar fear the end of the game? If he is playing, then the game is not over. If the game is over, then he is not playing. Why should he fear games that he is not a part of?

Why should I fear death?
If I am, then death is not.
If Death is, then I am not.
Why should I fear that which can only exist when I do not.
—Epicurus


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Being / Seeking

The baby, assailed by eyes, ears, nose, skin, and entrails at once, feels it all as one great blooming, buzzing confusion; and to the very end of life, our location of all things in one space is due to the fact that the original extents or bignesses of all the sensations which came to our notice at once, coalesced together into one and the same space. — William James (1890)

120892My existence is mysterious to me, yet that I exist is my core reality. My existence integrates an experiencer with that which is experienced. My experiencer divides my experience into “external” and “internal” perceptual categories, which by convention I label as either objective (external) or subjective (internal).  Orienting towards my experience further divides the objective and subjective into seemingly inexhaustible perceptual phenomena. If I move toward the subjective, through my “inner world,” in the direction of the experiencer, I ultimately arrive at simple awareness. This seems to be the starting point of my existence, for here all my perceptions are subsumed since without awareness there is no experiencer. Without my experiencer, I have no experience, no existence. Awareness is my immediately available, experiential foundation, my existence. It is my source, the ground of my being.

When I maneuver away from my foundation of pure awareness, toward the “great blooming, buzzing confusion,” I feel unsettled because my source feels diluted in this mysterious array of experience. Making sense of this mystery is the impetus of science, religion, philosophy and speculation. In my own sense-making endeavor, I will inevitably diverge from all the other efforts to do the same. Nevertheless, I feel driven to make sense of this mystery to achieve a sense of coherence and to reconnect with the simplicity of my existence. I am ever seeking a state of connection, unity and oneness.

Do I continue seeking, dividing, sorting and rearranging? Or, is what I seek, right here, at one with me, inseparable and immediately available?

Could it be that simple?

Throw or Show?

We have a love-hate relationship with judgment. People universally dislike being judged, yet, seem to take pleasure from judging others. We cannot stop being judgmental — nor would we want to. Emotions, which guide our life, reflect our judgments. Without judgment life itself would not have survived. Evolving from the most basic approach / avoid survival response of a simple organism, emotions help us negotiate the Goldilocks zone of life.  At a core level, an organism must maintain itself within certain parameters and out of this our values are born.  Life necessitates decisions, and decisions involve judgment.

Relationally, our natural draw towards judgment leads to a form of communication that is debate-oriented. Springing forth from the natural sense that our perspective is the true one and our reflexive tendency to judge one another, debate naturally ensues. Each trying to convince the other of the truth that each sees so clearly. Neither really listening to the other, except to find weakness or opportunities to gain the upper-hand. The goal is to win, to be right and to have one’s truth validated.

Debate can be a game like dodge ball, with each side trying to hit the other without beingThrowingRocks hben-stiller-dodgeballit themselves. Each focused on evading and maneuvering and striking a winning blow. Debate can also become a fight, with each side trying to injure or perhaps destroy the other. The stakes become much higher, our words become weapons, like rocks being hurled at one another. The more emotional charge behind the words, the more severe the damage, like force behind a projectile.

There is an alternative. What if rather than throwing our rocks at one another, we show them? A geologist showing you a rock brings out a very different emotional response than a fighter wielding the rocks-1same rock. While curiosity might have killed the cat, it leads to a much less lethal communication style than debate. Curiosity engenders dialogue and mutual interest in understanding the other. Curiosity tempers our natural move towards judgment, and rather than already knowing the truth, it opens us to discover the truth. It reminds us that we don’t really know it all.

We are locked in a subjective reality that only feels objective. Dialogue is a form of communication that mirrors this understanding.  If we are not careful, our self-protective emotional intensity will push us towards judgment, debate and possibly war. Diplomacy demands that we slow down and cultivate curiosity. Nurturing curiosity, nurtures dialogue which will nurture your relationship.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

 

 

Trial By Combat

A trial by combat, deciding a man’s guilt or innocence in the eyes of the gods by having two other men hack each other to pieces. Tells you something about the gods. ― Tyrion Lannister

TrialbyCombat

In the popular book and HBO television series, Game of Thrones, the character Tyrion Lannister, who has been accused of a capital offense, elects to have his fate decided by means of a trial by combat rather than by a council of lords.  Being a dwarf, who has little chance to overpower a much larger and more accomplished opponent, he chooses to be represented by a champion who will fight in his stead. Tyrion is in a vulnerable position and is desperate for a protector who is willing to fight to the death on his behalf.

I have discussed in recent posts the concept of executive operating systems (EOSs) that “drive” our body and brain in different directions, depending on the subconscious perception of the situation we are facing. When any particular EOS is active, our emotions, thoughts and motivations align in service of its evolved function (e.g., protection, nurturing). Since we are wired to survive our systems rapidly respond to any perceived threat. The same systems that orient us towards withdrawal or attack in response to mortal danger are likewise invoked in the face of relatively benign modern-day threats such as being cut off in traffic, being given poor service in a restaurant or in the midst of a family argument over household chores.

Couples counselors regularly witness trial by combat in their offices when romantic partners, who at times have loving feelings towards one another, suddenly bring forth their champions to defend their positions. Feeling emotionally vulnerable or wounded can elicit all manner of protectors to emerge. The defensive strategies employed by individuals in a relationship may vary, but when the partners interact under stress it is inevitably their preferred guardian EOS that is interacting. While not always a fight to the death, these encounters can leave both parties bruised, broken and even more sensitized to the next perceived slight, which triggers another cycle. The renowned relationship researcher, John Gottman, refers to this cycle as “negative affect reciprocity.” The ability to minimize these battles, escape from them once they have begun and repair the resultant damage is often the key to the relationship surviving.

Our instinct to survive is exactly what is triggered by our loved ones. Unfortunately, that instinct leads to an inhibition of empathy and sets us on a self-protective path rather than on a relationship-protective path. Orienting towards the relationship is counter-intuitive to our selected champion, as it involves exposing our vulnerability rather than shielding it. Healing a relationship caught up in negative affect reciprocity requires an environment that reduces the stress and reactivity so that the alternatives beyond fight or flight can emerge.

Relational battles are often heated (or chilled) debates between two individuals who desperately want to be seen, validated and cared for by the other. Feeling diminished, unappreciated or unloved can feel so threatening that any damage being inflicted in one’s own defense is deemed justifiable. One can be deeply wounded from active or passive defensive strategies. The interplay of fight or flight is inextricably tied together. This dance, which we so often find ourselves attending, cannot be won — it is a dance after all, and dancing is difficult when you are suited in armor.


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

 

What if?

You are a function of what the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is a function of what the whole ocean is doing. 
― Alan Watts

UniversalMindThe existence of consciousness remains the greatest of mysteries. What if consciousness is not a byproduct of matter but the source of matter? What if a universal mind is the field that holds together our world of matter? … each speck of life, a unique portal through which this mind pours forth its creative impulses. A creativity that further blossoms as “matter” awakens to consciousness. “Awakened matter” ultimately notices itself as an object, and a sense of self is galvanized. Self grows cognizant of its awareness, and an unshared subjectivity is conceived. This individualized perspective can neither be replicated nor fully understood by another.

What if that perspective in us — which is aware, which notices and is our observing self — is universal mind seeing through the filter that is us with all our idiosyncratic characteristics? What if the world we notice “out there” is actually inside rather than outside — a dreamworld contained within universal mind? I, like many other seekers, desperately want to reify this mind of which I am comprised. Even naming it is a movement in this direction, but whatever is observing and experiencing through us, if it is singular, cannot be mentally captured any more than I can see my eyes with my eyes. We know this universal mind, this source of awareness, only through living and experiencing our unique perspective. Our life is this larger life, but embodied and limited in space and time.

If we believe a universal mind experiences through us, might it change the way we see ourselves and one another? Could we feel connected and unified rather than isolated and divided? Is it possible we would value ourselves and others in a more treasured way? Maybe we would be curious and open to others’ perspectives and less judgmental and intolerant. Perhaps compassion and love could flourish.

While it often seems that we dwell in separateness and look out at a world full of objects perhaps it is quite the opposite, and a knowing, experiencing and creative mind is “looking” within — seeing itself through myriad perspectives … a dynamic self with so many ways to experience, to interact … to be. Perhaps this self becomes so enamored and entangled in these multiple perspectives that in the midst of embodied experience it believes these dreams of separateness and loses a sense of unity.

Do we want “it” to wake up?

You are actually—if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning— you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as—Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so—I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I’m that, too. But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it. ― Alan Watts


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

 

Growing Around

treethroughcoasterThe shape of a tree tells its developmental story. Trees grow around objects blocking their “lightward” trajectory. In some cases, these objects are permanent, making the tree’s story easily discernible. Yet in others, the original obstacle (e.g., another tree) may have been displaced or rotted away leaving only mystery and speculation.

Our personal developmental story reveals itself, not only in our physical presentation, but through our thoughts, feelings and behavior. Like trees, we too “grow around” the circumstances and people we encounter in our “lifeward” trajectory. We may remember some of the stories and circumstances behind these shaping experiences, but more likely they were never explicitly recorded. Regardless, these experiences have directed our growth. Conditioning and emotional learning write much of our implicit guidebook, which is revealed in our immediate experience and subjectively felt as we encounter life.

Conditioning refers to types of paired learning experiences, which are often involuntary. Classical conditioning, which we associate with “Pavlov’s dog,” refers to experiences that are paired together to the point where the paired stimulus reflexively induces the response normally associated with the other stimulus. Operant conditioning, which we associate with B. F. Skinner’s pigeons, is a form of instrumental learning that is based on whether behavior is reinforced or punished. Another significant way we are shaped is through social learning, which is based on direct instruction, modeling or observing the consequences of other people’s behavior. Social learning can be convoluted due to the subjective nature of our perception. Our interpretations are personal and do not always reflect what the “teacher” intended. Much of our learning is both implicit and emotional, bypassing our conscious awareness. Making it more complicated, the learning we receive is pre-filtered and colored by past emotional learning.

When we are confused by our own behavior or when it feels out of sync with our conscious intentions this often reflects that our subconscious mind is at odds with our conscious mind. Our subconscious mind follows the “rules” laid down in our implicit guidebook, rules originally drafted to keep us physically and emotionally safe, rules learned through past emotional experience — rules that might have passed their expiration date. Just as the earth can be equally shaped by intense events such as volcanoes or by slow and steady changes such as erosion, our emotional lives are shaped by the traumatic and the relentless. These experiences live on in the eternal present of our subconscious mind; rule enforcement is always on the ready. These rules are reinforced in their enactment. For example, when the guidebook’s rules prevent us from leaving our comfort zone, we are also prevented from possibly disconfirming our rules. As a result, our anxiety lives on to rule another day. It is in this way, the odd bend in our “trunk” remains a daily part of our lives, even though its origin may be a mystery.

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

God Talk

michelangelo-buonarroti-creation-of-adam

The easy confidence with which I know another man’s religion is folly teaches me to suspect that my own is also.” — Mark Twain, a Biography

Since most of us may not be as comfortable questioning our own beliefs as Mark Twain, we are likely to benefit from the etiquette rule which warns us of discussing religion. Unfortunately this rule inhibits us from sharing some of our deepest and most intense experiences, thoughts and feelings as well as our foundational values; this rule may indeed prevent conflict but it does so at the expense of intimacy.

You can safely assume that you’ve created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.  — Anne Lamott

I think the basis of the difficulty we have with these conversations lies in our failure to realize how trapped we are by our subjectivity. The source of our conflict is when we forget that our God talk isn’t really about God but our “God-image” – could it be otherwise? How does one describe what is ineffable? Given the many warnings of creating false gods and graven images, you might think we would be more cautious. But how can we throw caution to the wind and talk about God? Perhaps we start by recognizing that “God” is a three letter word that has a whole lot attached to it. What I have attached to it is deeply and inextricably tied to my subjective experience. If you can agree that you are in the same boat, we may have a chance at some “God talk.” This is true whether you consider yourself an atheist, an agnostic or a religious person of any flavor.

We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are. — Anais Nin

Now when we talk we aren’t talking about God, we are talking about ourselves and sharing our experiences and our interpretations of those experiences. We are talking about what we’ve been taught, what we have believed and what we have doubted. Now, we are connecting rather than conflicting. Now, maybe we are open to new possibilities. I like to think that this approach can help bring science and religion together; perhaps both are seeking some of the same things. We are all trying to comprehend the mystery of our existence. It seems that the meaning of the Hebrew name, YHWH, points to existence itself. Perhaps the essence of the spiritual/religious perspective is emotionally experienced mystery, and the essence of science is analytically experienced mystery … either way, we get back to our mysterious experience.

Science cannot solve the ultimate mystery of nature. And that is because, in the last analysis, we ourselves are part of the mystery that we are trying to solve. — Max Planck

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Implicit Guidebook

Children implicitly absorb language from those around them, but they also absorb culture, beliefs and what it takes to make it in the world. They soak up what helps them get their needs met and prevents them from experiencing pain. They observe others’ experiences and learn vicariously. All of this flows in unconsciously and uncritically. These implicit learnings form the basis of our personality and our subjective perspective, and they write the initial chapters of our “implicit guidebook.” The implicit guidebook is a term I use for our underlying sense of what is right and wrong, how we are to live and our basic construction of how things are. It is our working hypotheses for ourselves and the world. While this sounds cognitive it is really at the essence of our emotional experiences. Because this “book” is implicit, we can’t sit down and read it, show it to others or fully know what has been written on its pages. This guidebook acts as a lens or filter that is as invisible to us as contact lenses can be to the wearer. It both shapes our perception and proves itself true in that shaping.

lens

Yet … the implicit can partially be made explicit. Ironically, understanding that our experience is subjective allows that subjectivity to become an object of our awareness. As we start to notice our inner dialogue, beliefs, rules, assumptions, expectations, etc., we are noticing our guidebook. The challenge is to get just enough space to notice it so we can make it an object of inspection. This happens with dialogue, with meditation, with writing, with contrasting our reality from those close to us and at a distance and in many other unexpected ways. As we engage in this process we may want to pull out our editing tools. We will see much that we want to strike through, many parts to rewrite and some which we will want to highlight or underline.

If only editing was this easy. It is not. This is the mind’s effort to reprogram itself. This is using the minuscule programer that is our conscious self to edit the code within the massive super-computer that is our unconscious. The programer is always vulnerable to being swallowed up by the program before the changes can be saved.

And yet … it can be done.

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.

Every Man Is An Island

…existentially speaking, that is. We are trapped in our own subjectivity and can’t fully escape. This is the “unbridgeable gulf between oneself and any other being,” (1) which Irvin Yalom refers to as existential isolation. This unbridgeable gulf can vary in size but it is always there.

The reality which our minds generate is infused with our experience, emotion and judgment; but this is generally invisible to us, and we are regularly fooled into believing that what we experience is THE TRUTH. We believe the gulf created by our subjectivity can be bridged by TRUTH, and we are lulled into debate as we try to convince others of THE TRUTH. This is chasing after the wind, a fools errand. All we can do is share from our observation point, our experience, our personal truth and hope that the other is willing to try and build a partial bridge towards us.

This partial bridge is built with empathy, a genuine willingness to attempt to enter into the experience of another. Empathy requires awareness that we are trapped in our own subjectivity, because only then do we understand that we actually have to wade through our own subjectivity and notice its interference in the bridge building process. Empathy is a process that inspires dialogue just as belief in TRUTH inspires debate. Empathy is imperfect bridge building that never completes the full span of the gulf. Nevertheless, a partial bridge creates the opportunity for connection, understanding and healing, something which most of us crave: a healing from the wounds of our isolation, disconnection and feeling unknown.

 

Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant? — Henry David Thoreau

 

(1) Yalom, I. A., 1980. Existential Psychotherapy. New York: Basic Books, Inc.

 


John R. Lucy, Ph.D. is a psychologist in private practice at Decatur Psychology, LLC.