Questioning the Rules We Live By

"You are a victim of the rules you live by."
--Jenny Holzer

This statement is Jenny Holzer's, a modern artist whose main medium is words, and it is from one of her first notable pieces--Truisms.

The thing about these truisms (there's a long list) is that they always get me churning and mulling--because they do ring true on some level--and because each "truth" is quite complex. Which brings me back here--to the place where I am a victim of the rules I live by.  And as I have started to think about it, I am--and have felt more so recently--which has also left me examining how to be less of a victim here.

The word victim might seem extreme, and I don't love it either, because I certainly don't see myself as a victim, I don't want to see myself that way, and I certainly don't want to be an actual victim--of anything.  If I think of this, though as meaning "hurt by" or "limited by"--so you are hurt or limited by the rules you live by--then the shoe fits, even with this harsh term.  Don't get me wrong--there is some good that comes from having certain rules and being limited by them.  Life has some stability and order and predictability that it wouldn't have if there were no rules.  All of this is to say that having rules isn't so much the problem.  Having unexamined rules, however, is what makes us into victims because we are no longer exercising conscious choice.

How do I know when my rules are unexamined and limiting me? I look to how often my brain tells me I should (or shouldn't) do something.  That sense of obligation points toward being a victim of a rule.  I should clean my house, I should turn off the TV, I should cook at home more often...why?  Because other people might judge me as disorganized or unintelligent or careless with money--because people who have it together, don't live messy lives, because smart people don't watch so much TV,  because healthy people don't eat whole foods take out this often.

When I speak in can'ts and cans as if they are a permanent state of affairs, I am also pretty clear that under them is some rule that is limiting me.  I was training for a 5K last winter and as I went into the last phase to gear up for my first race, a few body parts gave up on me.  I ended up in a good bit of pain, missing the race and with some expensive rehabilitation expenses.  When that all happened, I intended to get back to running as soon as I could.  This December, I found myself saying something about my body not being made to run as the reason I hadn't gone back to it yet.  Somewhere under that was a rule I was living by about my body that has limited me--both because I wasn't running and had been enjoying it until I injured myself and because I wasn't seeing that running or not running for exercise was actually a choice I was making.

As soon as we make something a rule we believe to be TRUE, then we've given up a little of our mental freedom to question the idea, and some mental limitations creep in.  What to do about this?  Pay attention to where you are frustrated or which paths seemed blocked off by a should or can't--and then look for whether there is an underlying assumption of truth--or a rule--that you are living by.  For me, once I can see what my rule is, I can choose whether to break it.

Responding and Reacting

The world is constantly providing us with stimuli--often more than we can manage.  As human beings, we are essentially giant receptors. Together, our five senses are designed to take in and process as much stimuli from our environment as possible.  And then our brain joins in, expressing likes or dislikes-that smells bad, or good--generating and assigning meaning to what we are seeing, smelling, hearing, touching and tasting--a situation is dangerous or safe, that route is shorter and I should go that way, this waiter is nice and deserves a big tip, and so on.  And all of what we take in helps to inform how we respond to what is happening around us--Drink sour milk?  Spit it out.  Smell smoke?  Look for fire--or run from the building.

And there is the interesting part--the difference between looking to see if there is fire and running from the building after smelling smoke.  I was in a yoga class recently where the teacher spoke to this exact thing--reacting or responding, explaining these as the two main ways we come back at what comes at us. The teacher encouraged us to keep practicing yoga as it would help us move from reacting to responding. As I thought more about the distinction between the two, however, I started to see the value in each.

Let's go back to the difference between looking to see if there is a fire after smelling smoke and smelling smoke and running from the building.  I would categorize the first as responding and the second as reacting.  Responding is deliberate--and thoughtful.  It is considered--meaning we have the mental space to think of options and pick one.  Responding takes in the fullest, biggest picture of a given situation.  Rarely is a genuine response something we regret because it comes from a place of awareness, a place of being conscious of options.  Reacting on the other hand is knee-jerk, organic, perhaps even a bit out of control--like angrily flipping someone off in traffic or slamming a door as we storm out of a room.
 A reaction just comes out, often seeming like the only way to handle the situation--at least in the moment.  It can also be something we regret, especially if it involves interactions with another person, often because it reveals our lack of consideration--as would running from a building at the mere smell of smoke.

Of course, as my yoga teacher suggested, we need a certain amount of mental space or peace of mind to respond.  When we don't have that, we just react. And, in reality, we all do both as different times. There are ways in which always being able to have the mental calmness to respond sounds appealing, and it also sounds unrealistic.  Living in this world, taking in all the stimuli around me, I am bound to get grabbed by something--and maybe I should get grabbed by something.  I have realized that maybe I shouldn't really be on a quest to eliminate all of my reactions.  My reactions are quite revealing.  Without them, I might not be all that clear about what I care about, what pushes my buttons and who I am when that happens.  I need my reactions to know myself in real terms.  The lesson for me in pondering the difference between reacting and responding has been the realization that both are valuable.  Each is helping me know myself better--from a different angle.  Maybe this distinction is interesting to you too--or maybe you want to eliminate some of your reactivity--or maybe you just never thought of it this way.  In any of those cases, I would ask, if you start to pay attention, what do you notice about when and how you react and when and how you respond?  What does that tell you about yourself?

Remembering What we Forgot

I was stopped at a light on this snowy morning, waiting for the signal to turn green when the driver in the SUV next to me opened his door and got out.  He reached up to his roof rack, pulled down a small cup of coffee and climbed back into his car.  Watching this made me smile.

We've all done that--or something like it--put something on the roof of the car, or in the back seat, or on the counter by the fridge, and then sometimes we forget about it, briefly or longer.  Life can be like that--we are carrying around multiple things and we set something down somewhere and forget about it for a bit--it ends up on the back burner, even though it was important to have in our hand just a moment ago.  Hopefully we remember it while we are sitting at a light, or before we leave for the airport, or before it goes bad on the counter--and hopefully it's a cup of coffee or today's lunch and not a laptop or our wallet.  Sometimes though we remember we are missing something when it flies off the roof or spills on the back seat--or when we arrive where we were going and realize we don't have something we know we had in our hand at some point.

The reflection that happens as one year ends and another begins is a natural time to take stock of what you have put down that you wish was still in hand.  Writing regular blog posts is something I know I put down at some point this year--and I have missed it, so I am recommitting to my writing.  For me there are other things that fit into that category too--a daily meditation practice, making my way through my reading list, keeping in better touch with friends, cooking more--and I can't pick them all up at once without dropping something again--so I am not making a series of resolutions.  I am, instead, making one: pay attention to where I put my time and make sure I am always choosing what matters.  Hopefully, this way, I won't find myself juggling as many things, and what I spend my time on will be more meaningful.  What's one resolution you can make that could shift how you look at all those little things in your life you wish were different?  Once you decide what it is, write it down and post it somewhere you will see it every day--which is the equivalent of never putting it down.  And if you want more tips on how to achieve your goals, click here.