Humility and The Tao Te Ching

A humble person has a realistic view of herself and her abilities, and has developed healthy self-esteem through taking knocks and getting back up again. She is not a doormat and not lacking in confidence or in competence, often erroneously ascribed to humble people. Even knowing her abilities, she is unwilling to push herself forward, to brag, or to take credit not due her, as those less grounded might do. Her quiet confidence and sensitivity permit her to see to the wellbeing of others, often by creating emotional safety for them, even in the midst of conflict. Whatever is happening around her, she is essentially unfazed, being grounded by a realistic sense of self. Unfortunately, her kind are rare today, and becoming rarer.

Society today can hardly be characterized as emphasizing humility, the mere idea of which is distasteful to many. If anything, it is the opposite, with narcissistic tendencies and behavior on the rise. Lacking humility, we exaggerate our own importance, separating ourselves from others. We take ourselves far too seriously, leading to an excessive focus on ourselves. Civility and respect are casualties.

What might account for this paucity of humility? Part seems due to people being told from childhood that they are totally special, part to the decades-old enthusiasm for encouraging people to act out their feelings no matter the impact on others, and part to the fact that American (and Western) society is in disarray generally, with traditional support mechanisms in decline or absent. These factors conspire insidiously to undermine faith in the personal and societal benefits of humility, founded on a true sense of self-worth and respect for others.

As uncertainty increases, people are pushed on an endless search for emotional safety. But lacking as it does appropriate limits, reasonable expectations of personal behavior and responsibility, and proper interpersonal boundaries, people are emotionally adrift, insecure and fearful. Desperate for something that will give them a touchstone, a solid foundation in today’s continuous fluidity, many “look for love in all the wrong places.” They may find a temporary, if unsuccessful, refuge in things like social media/internet escapism, narcissistic self-centeredness, or in being absolutely certain of something, almost anything, from a political ideology to their own specialness, false gods all.

How can the ancient wisdom of the Tao Te Ching instruct us?

He who stands on tiptoe

doesn’t stand firm.

He who rushes ahead

doesn’t go far.

He who tries to shine

dims his own light.

He who defines himself

can’t know who he really is.

He who has power over others

can’t empower himself.

He who clings to his work

will create nothing that endures.

If you want to accord with the Tao,

just do your job, then let go.

From Tao Te Ching, #24

Stephen Mitchell

The first long stanza emphasizes the futility of clutching and grasping at things we imagine will get us what we want, not realizing that our efforts are likely to produce the opposite. The last two lines express a related theme common in Buddhism generally, as well as in Zen and Taoism---letting go, avoiding or dismantling attachments to ideas, outcomes, oneself. Attachments are the fusing of anything with a large emotional force, keeping us from making helpful judgments or taking beneficial actions, particularly towards others. Attachments can express great personal neediness, increasing today as stresses multiply and stability mechanisms fall into disrepair or disappear entirely. The more uncertain everyday life becomes, the more people unconsciously resort to clutching and grasping, hoping for support in the midst of personal turmoil. As these efforts are bound to fail, many redouble their efforts, creating a vicious downward cycle.

Loss of humility, and its correlate loss of concern for others, are simultaneously an outcome of societal uncertainty and the lack of healthy support mechanisms, and a cause of further disorientation. There is no stopping this trend unless those of us professing a moral grounding for our lives and for our interactions with others, even those we do not like or strenuously disagree with, model humility every day. That naturally requires a highly evolved and fearless knowledge of ourselves producing a solid emotional grounding, an issue I dealt with a bit in the last post on “knowing yourself.”

Knowing Yourself

Can we know ourselves? seems like a foolish question. Would not most of us say yes, of course? Certainly we “know” what our conscious mind experiences. I am sitting in this chair typing this note. My back is bothering me. I am thinking about life. I am having a great dinner. I am watching a poor TV show. I am an impatient person. I am a sensitive person. I disagree with…. And so forth. I am aware of these sensations and thoughts. But is that knowing? Do those types of things express who I really am?

Those experiences are knowing about myself, how I think about myself, what I am feeling. They are only partially about knowing myself. How can I say this? Because what we consciously feel or think is hugely incomplete. It does not include what is in the unconscious, which is not directly accessible by us. Researchers tell us that perhaps 80% of what we think, feel, or do arises from the unconscious. Thus, who we really are, particularly as seen by others, is highly conditioned by the unconscious. I told myself for years that I was a sensitive person. I was not, at least not much. I was not consciously lying. I did not say to myself, “Oh, you really aren’t sensitive, but you are going to pretend that you are.” I really believed that I had that trait. I was being dishonest and hadn’t a clue. The poet David Whyte says that we cannot be honest with others if we are not honest with ourselves. And we cannot be honest with ourselves so long as the unconscious remains opaque to us.

An example, one entailing mixed motives. Let’s say my wife is overweight (she definitely isn’t!), and I admonish her to eat better and get exercise. “That’s for her own good,” I say to myself, and let’s say that my concern is really honest. My unconscious, however, has another agenda. I am embarrassed and angered by my wife’s weight, and hide that from myself. If even a glimmer of the thought arises, I say to myself that it isn’t true and re-assert that my only concern is her health.

But my wife experiences problems with me. The two different motives produce two different, mainly non-verbal (and contradictory) behaviors from me. One, the sincere desire to encourage her to a healthier life-style, is visible by my caring attention and attitude. Two, my embarrassment and anger are also visible by my obvious frustration at not seeing immediate progress and for her adding excessive weight in the first place. She senses the difference immediately. It may not be clear to her what the dynamics are, but she knows there is more to my “concern” than I am admitting.

As with all of us, faced with one positive non-verbal message and one negative, the latter will receive all our attention since it is perceived as both accurate and a threat. Acting on her accurate perception of my disapproval, she accuses me of not caring. I, a paragon of virtue in my own mind, am outraged. Not seeing my negative unconscious motive, I feel diminished in the face of an assault on what I perceive to be nothing but honest caring.

You know where this “conversation” is going. Yup, downhill all the way. Lest you think I am speaking only about myself, and not about you, kindly stand disabused. I am no different from anyone else. All of us live a partial illusory existence. We accept at face value what our conscious mind says about who and what we are, and what we do. These views are nearly always laudatory and filled with certainty. Ignorant of the role of unconscious, we attempt to impose this illusory state of affairs onto others, leading only to personal unhappiness and interpersonal conflict of the worst sort.

Can we know ourselves? Sure, if we’ve got the guts. We must first accept that the unconscious is a huge force in our lives, one that can produce unfortunate behaviors. Second, and this is where having real spine comes in, we must access that unconscious and look at aspects of ourselves which are unpleasant. Resistance is high at this point because we likely spent a life-time constructing our illusions, and we sure as hell don’t want to let loose of those fictions now.

Third, once we have uncovered what we really do not want to see, we must exercise the discipline and persistence to change untoward outcomes.

But if accessing the unconscious is critical, and we cannot access it directly, how are we supposed to get at it? The mirror of others---staring us right in the face with every interaction, if we possess the openness and perceptiveness to take advantage of what they can tell us verbally and non-verbally.

But am I begging the question? How then do we get that openness and perceptiveness?

The Buddha winks.

Slack Emotional Resources

To a person in any business, the concept of slack resources or reserves is very familiar. Take airlines, as one example, for which time is a key resource. It determines the scheduling of flight and airport times, of particular interest to the flying traveler. If an airline schedules flights too tightly, even a small delay at one stop could throw off the timing of the remaining arrivals and departures for any particular route. Too loose, and money is lost and customers may complain about delays.

But it’s not just businesses that are concerned with slack resources. We regular folks are as well. If you make $1000 per month and have normal expenditures of $950, all is well so long as the former does not go down much or the latter up much. If your bank account is at $25, and expenditures come in at $1050, you are short. Inadequate slack financial resources.

OK, enough of that stuff. I think you get the point. Slack resources, no matter how used, refers to reserves of some kind, buffers against the unexpected or undesirable. My particular interest is in inadequate slack emotional resources.  

We’ve all known folks who are “wired,” tightly coiled and living in more or less permanent agitation. Or, folks who have their “insult” detectors on overdrive. Often low in self esteem, they are on constant alert for what they see as insults, detecting them constantly, usually where none exists. Or, folks who simply see their views as sacrosanct, and hate being disagreed with. The “offender” has to be set straight. Or, the narcissist who sees everything in terms of himself, and dislikes others having the center stage which he believes is his alone to occupy. Or, the person who has powerful expectations that the world will do exactly as he wants. Since the world is not so accommodating, he experiences emotional turmoil that he “generously” exports to others. Or, the person who sees himself as a victim, finding victimizers everywhere. Or, the perennial, garden-variety counter puncher. He appears to have no control over his need to criticize whatever he does not like, evidencing little interest in reflective thought and conversation. And the list goes on.

These folks have low or no slack emotional reserves, and are emotionally unbalanced, at least in the moment. They need the world to do their bidding. When it does not, they act out. And like it or not, we all are, at least occasionally, members of this less-than-illustrious group. From time to time, all of us may be wired or sensitive or irritated or depressed to some degree, times when we lose emotional balance. Never suffering in silence, our acting out disturbs and often harms others. But it could be worse for us and others---our condition may be chronic.

Having low emotional resources is seldom an either/or thing. They may be adequate in some situations, but not in others. I know a woman who has great slack emotional resources at work, even with considerable pressure on her. But at home she has no patience with her spouse, being constantly prickly, easily offended and just as easily angered.

Social fragmentation and uncertainty are on the rise, increasing stress levels and encouraging incivility. Low emotional reserves show up most in stressful conditions, whether personal or societal. The greater the stress level, the lower anyone’s threshold of negative reactivity.

Low or absent emotional slack resources means trouble for everyone. But people with high levels have greater equanimity, and export that to others. They handle life’s challenges with as little upset as possible, both to themselves and to others. So, how do we improve? As with nearly everything dealing with emotional issues, the key is unflinchingly increasing our self-awareness. Only then can we uncover our sensitivities, emotional triggers, and defensive reactions, our unique conditions of weak emotional reserves. While necessary, self-awareness alone is insufficient to produce the health outcome of increased emotional resources. There must also be a courageous commitment to change, which recognizes that our patterns of mis-behavior have arisen over many years, are solidly entrenched, and not eradicated in any short time.

The need to increase our emotional reserves is greater than ever. Damaging personal, familial, and societal forces and stresses (including our own unhealthy needs) are pushing us into reactive states where we cause ourselves and others to suffer needlessly. If we wish to see greater community and civility, must start with ourselves, or we are hypocrites.

Why We Need More Structure for the Young

Current studies show that many of today’s youth are in trouble. They are more distant from their parents, go out with their friends less frequently, study less, are less happy and more lonely, and are more likely to commit suicide.

Professor Jean Twenge at San Diego State has been studying generational differences for decades. One of her largest concerns about the group known as Gen Z’s (born between 1995 and 2009, which she has christened iGen’s) was expressed recently in an article in The Atlantic, “Has The Smartphone Destroyed A Generation?”

“Psychologically…they are more vulnerable than Millennials were: rates of teen depression and suicide have skyrocketed since 2011. It’s not an exaggeration to describe iGen as being on the brink of the worst mental-health crisis in decades. Much of this deterioration can be traced to their phones.”

Certainly this malaise is not limited to the young. There is a wide-spread disconnect of people from themselves, from others, and from our culture in general, which seems to unraveling at the seams. This breakdown has caused many, but especially the young, to “look for love in all the wrong places.” While often playing a negative role, the phone is not the whole culprit, but a vehicle for trying to find solidity and validation as society’s normal stability mechanisms dissolve.

There are many reasons why our society is troubled, but I think a big part is the near complete lack of structure. As structure dissolves, people start looking for substitutes, such as the phone’s social media offerings. Facebook for one subjects participants to intense highs and lows---no stability at all. Some people have no substitutes and experience disorientation and even despair as they look vainly for healthy stability. They live lives of not-so-quiet desperation, usually causing them, youth and adults, to act out in ways that damage themselves and society.

Societal structure is a complex of relationships, norms, and generally shared values. Both rights and obligations to others are fairly clear. Stability and balance are maintained by various formal and informal rules, limits, responsibilities, and consequences. To the degree that these are beneficial for and generally accepted by people, you have a healthy society. They can be rigid or relaxed, but a society’s health depends on some appropriate balance. Too much of either extreme means societal challenges. We went from considerable rigidity in the 50’s, with its attendant problems, to near total relaxation today. Some of this loosening was clearly needed, but as we have ignored or dismantled many of the good structural elements, we left children and teens in particular with nothing healthy to replace them. The results are the emotional challenges Dr. Twenge has found in her research, and which has been supported by other scholars.

Perhaps our most prominent failure is at home. Among other problems, many parents want to be their child’s best friend, which keeps them from passing on healthy standards of behavior and exercising helpful and supportive discipline. Or, they may think that setting firm, reasonable limits damages the child’s creativity or self esteem, completely unaware of the difference between real and faux self esteem. Or, perhaps the parents want to do the right thing, but lack the emotional energy as both work, or are simply disinclined.

In these homes, limits are few, and erratically enforced. Even getting a child out the door to go to school is often filled with tension and anger. The more the parents flex the “established” limits, the more the child pushes. He realizes that he may well get all he wants, but at least a considerable part of that, and so pushes against everything---what and when to eat, what to watch on TV, when to go to bed, when and how to use his I-Pad, etc. The parents and he are now part of a mal-functioning system in which the child is mostly in control, and is reinforced by the parents for his pushing and creating family upset.

Melt-downs, many children’s tactic for getting what they want, are at epidemic levels, in great part the result of too much flexibility and inconsistency. Caught between a rock and a hard place of their own making, parents cede to the child yet more independence simply to keep peace, independence he is ill-equipped to handle. Further ceding has occurred with social media, where many teens hope to find something they can latch onto. Ephemeral and volatile, that something provides no structure at all. It promotes the opposite---fear, emotional dependence, and instability.

To grow emotionally healthy, a child has to test herself against standards, obligations, norms and rules which are not completely fluid nor inconsistently applied. On occasion she will, and should, experience push back from her parents, actions leading to the formation of healthy boundaries and limits. The child needs to find the limits and borders to her own growing sense of self. She gradually learns that strong inner and inter-personal boundaries are vital. She develops a healthy sense of who she is and what she owes others, a view coming mainly from parents espousing important values, consistently applying limitations, and loosening those as the child learns. (this should be provided at school as well, but is generally not) Love and support are  vital, but by themselves will not necessarily produce a confident and resilient young person.

All children test limits and strictures, and certainly accountability. Even while pushing against these, unknowingly the child seeks the structure they provide. Lacking limits, responsibility, and consequences, the child cannot determine where the boundaries of her world are, leaving her in a sea of uncertainty and a much harder task of developing a healthy self image.

In the healthy household there is greater consistency in application of those elements, and in the consequences arising from the child’s misbehavior, or good behavior. Further, values such as respect and restraint are taught and rewarded, as is the important strength of resilience, from which the child learns she can take a “hit” or serious disappointment and get right back up---one of the important elements in real self esteem. The solidity and structure provided by the family setting are critical. Just as important is the child’s gradual development of a sense of confidence and competence, characteristics providing their own enduring internal structure for the child, something she can count on no matter what. Also, in this process she gradually comes to understand the value of proper personal and interpersonal boundaries, and to not violate those of others, while also not allowing her own to be violated.

A colleague recently told me about how his son, when young, had misbehaved rather badly. He got into trouble at school, got into constant fights, had a drug problem, and even had run-ins with the police. Fortunately, the boy got though this period. Sadly, many years later he angrily told his father: “Where were you, Dad? I wanted limits and you gave me none.”

Honesty

In a recent post I provided David Whyte’s thoughts on honesty, ones strong on psychology. With a lighter, but still important note, a friend wondered what role honesty has when, say, an artist friend asks my opinion about his latest painting, one that I find poorly done. Does honesty compel me to state my opinion exactly and directly? Sure, many might say, he did ask.

When I consciously tell the artist that I think this work is great, that surely is lying. But is that acceptable to spare his feelings? Is lying ever justified by that motive? Personally, I have to say no. But perhaps I have an alternative. What if I don’t lie, but answer indirectly?

Perhaps I say to the artist that I have always enjoyed seeing his new work, or ask him about the inspiration for this particular piece. I am not lying; I have not said anything false or which does not reflect my thinking. I have simply not answered his question, deflecting the conversation slightly. If not lying, am I perhaps being at least somewhat dishonest, at least disingenuous, by withholding what I really think?

There are people who believe you should say exactly what you think and feel when asked, often regardless of the impact on others. Failing to do so would in their minds be lying directly by saying something you do not believe, or lying by omission in avoiding or deflecting the issue. This directness may cause pain, usually unintended, and just as often sincerely regretted. Nonetheless, their main goal in the interaction is to fulfill their own value of honesty. They see honesty as an all-or-nothing affair. You are honest or you are not. While valuable at some level, this view is often inflexible, failing to account for context subtleties.

Context means seeing honesty from the standpoint of compassion, having the well being of the other person in mind at all times. Compassion informs honesty, broadening its scope and depth. Honesty without compassion can be harsh and unkind.

With the importance of the other’s well being as a foundation, context includes a number of elements. The relationship’s established openness and candor level. The expectation of the listener, very different for support than for problem solving. The goal of speaker, such as to be directly honest or to avoid conflict. The urgency or seriousness of the situation. The potential outcome, good or ill, for both parties.

Imagine you ask your small daughter to draw a car, which she does with great delight. What she gives you has little resemblance to a car. Knowing a child’s sensitivity, you do not critique the drawing. Instead, you might ask her about what most interested her in making the drawing, or something similar. That is context. Of course, as the child gets older, a supportive parent may work into constructive critiques, but always sensitive to the situation. No different for adults.

Whyte’s critical observation is that we cannot be straight with another if we cannot be straight with ourselves. The latter condition makes it nearly impossible to address context. For the context factors to be usefully considered, the respondent must have a high level of mental and emotional awareness, and the discipline to implement that understanding.

Imagine you encounter a friend you have not seen in some time, and you notice that he has gained quite a bit of weight. It may be honest in one sense to comment to him that he looks heavier than the last time you met. But that honesty may come at a cost, the possible perception by the friend that you were being unkind. Honesty prevailed over compassion. What was gained by the comment? Was the relationship enhanced?

Or, perhaps your friend asks you directly how you think he looks. You think he may want you to tell him that he looks fine. Do you say what you think, or do you take another tack, as with the artist? As before, what will be gained by telling him your true opinion? Will the relationship be enhanced?

Can we improperly sacrifice honesty to compassion and context? Surely there is that danger if the respondent has little self knowledge, and is unable to make useful judgments about what to say, and how. Such a reaction can result from fear of a potentially troubling outcome, such as an unpleasant conflict scene. Or from an excessive worry about upsetting the other person, even if no overt conflict arises.

And so?

·       Honesty is rarely a matter of either/or.

·       Context is critical in responding.

·       Underlying context is compassion, a sincere concern for the well being of the other person.

·       A healthy contextual assessment is nearly impossible without self-awareness.