We have found that all of this programmingboth biological and socialreflects itself in two primary barriers to enjoyment. These are unworthiness and ingratitude.There are joys which long to be ours. God sends ten thousand truths, which come about us like birds seeking inlet; but we are shut up to them, and so they bring us nothing, but sit and sing awhile upon the roof, and then fly away. HENRY WARD BEECHER
Unworthiness tells us we're not good enough for what we want, so we don't pursue it, so we don't get it. Further, unworthiness tells us we're not good enough for what we already have. This causes a low-level guilt that permeates our lives. Unworthiness causes our lives to be self-fulfilled prophecies of doom and gloom. "She not only expects the worst," Michael Arlen described it, "but makes the worst of it when it happens."
Ingratitude takes the opposite position: what we have is not good enough for us. Why be grateful for a one-bedroom apartment when we want a four-bedroom house? "Life is a hospital," Baudelaire observed, "in which every patient is possessed by the desire to change his bed." There's always something to find wrong with anything, and as long as something's wrong, why be thankful? "There was never a banquet so sumptuous," says the French proverb, "but someone dined poorly at it."
Unworthiness and ingratitude effectively destroy enjoyment and all other forms of wealth in our lives.
To avoid criticism, do nothing, say nothing,be nothing. ELBERT HUBBARD
One of the most unfortunateand probably the most destructivedecisions children can make about themselves is that they are undeserving, not good enough, unworthy.
It is, however, easy to see how this decision can be madeeven in the best-raised children.
Childhood is a time of discovery; of unparalleled, intensive learning. All that distinguishes a gooing, gaaing almost totally helpless infant from a walking, talking, remarkably self-sufficient almost-adult of, say, ten must be learned.
From birth to two years old, in fact, is the most intense learning period of our lives. Everything must be learned. The learning process goes on every waking hour. No wonder infants sleep so much. All that learning is exhausting!
Children learn, for the most part, by trial-and-error. They have an insatiable curiosity and an innate ability to imitate. If it's in their environment, they want to see it, touch it, fondle it, put it in their mouths and explore it in any way in order to learn about it.
When children are seeing, touching, fondling, mouthing and exploring things that are all right for them to see, touch, fondle, mouth and explore, the parents stand by and let the process happen. Food and toys seem to be particularly acceptable areas of exploration. (Hence our cultural preoccupation with eating and playthings, perhaps?)
When children want to see, touch, fondle, mouth and explore things that are not acceptable, they hear about itoften in no uncertain terms. "No." "Stop." "Don't do that." Making something forbidden, of course, only arouses curiosity, and the child tries again with even more determination. The no's get stronger until (A) the object is removed, (B) the child is removed, or (C) a suitable substitute of exploration is offered.
In a typical day of exploration, the praise for successful learning is usually far outweighed by the "no," "don't," "stop that," "shame," "bad," and "wrong" of correction. Over time, what is remembered is (A) long periods of noninteraction with The Adults; (B) a few moments of praise, and (C) a lot of "don'ts"supported, perhaps, by some sort of punishment.
As a child grows, the successfully learned behavior that once garnered praise soon becomes expected. "Six months ago I got praise for taking one step; now I'm walking all over the place and they don't even notice." In fact, the very things that were once the cause of praise can become the source of correction. Drawing a picture on paper is great; drawing an even better picture on a wall is not.
School Principal: I'm sure your children will be very happy here. Gomez: If we'd wanted them to be happy, we would've let them stay at home. "THE ADDAMS FAMILY"
While repeated successful behavior becomes expected and is soon no longer praised, repeated unsuccessful ("bad") behavior receives ever-increasing scorn. "I do all this stuff right and nothing; then I do this one thing wrong and BOOM!"
In this environment, it's easy for children to conclude that they are simply unable to do right, that there must be something wrong with them, that they just aren't good enough.
This set of circumstances usually gets worse when the child starts school. "Mastered printing the alphabet? Now let's try cursive writing." "Got addition down? Let's tackle subtraction. (And wait till we get to long division!)"
In addition to the learn-everything-fast treadmill, school also exposes children to organized competition and world-class comparisons. "Why aren't you as well-behaved as Suzie? Why can't you spell as well as John? Why don't you excel in history like Janet?" and on and on. We are expected to be as good in each subject as the best person in the class.
Then there are the taunts and harsh comparisons children make about each other, the "in" groups one is on the out with, the bullies, the gossips, the tattletales, the teacher's petsthe world, it seems, supports our original decision that we somehow aren't good enough.
This unworthiness limits our enjoyment in two ways. First, it prevents us from getting the things we truly want. We don't feel deserving of our dream, so we accept the programming of anotheror the cultureand pursue some goal not our own. Naturally, we do this without the full enthusiasm we would have for a goal of our own choosing, so we don't even achieve the programmed goal too well. We end up without what we want, and with only a part of what "they" wanted us to have. This is not a joyful situation.
Ferdinand: Wherefore weep you? Miranda: At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take What I shall die to want.
SHAKESPEARE
THE TEMPEST
Second, the good that does come our way is suspect. "If you love me, an unworthy person, there must be something wrong with you," or, as Stephen Sondheim wrote, "Thank you for the present, but what's wrong with the stuff?" or, as Groucho Marx said, "I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member." Unworthiness always has us looking for the catch, the angle, the small print.
When told of good news, what's the first thing many people say? "Oh, no!" or, "I can't believe it!" Unworthiness won't let us believe it. We even feel guilty that goodness is in the hands of an unworthy being such as ourselves.
Rather than deal with the underlying unworthiness, many people cover their low self-worth with overconfidencea bravado and a self-assurance that is overwhelming.
A sure sign of this false confidence is ingratitude.
I think our parents got together in 1946 and said, "Let's have lots of kids and give them everything they want, so that they can grow up and be totally messed up and unable to cope with life." HOPE STEADMAN
"THIRTYSOMETHING"
We have found that almost all our difficulty with other people comes down to one of the following:
When we get what we want, in the way we want it, when we want it, then we are the nicest people in the world. Nobody's nicer. Some may be equally nice, but none nicer.
Let's face it. We're spoiled.
When we have too much unshared milk of human kindness, it tends to spoil. Being spoiled is another way of saying we're ungrateful. As far as we can tell, ingratitude comes from three sources.
First, it seems to be the natural result of a brain that filters out everything that isn't changing. The "good" in our lives is often not changing as rapidly as the "bad." We seem to be biologically programmed to lack appreciation.
Second, the cultural programming of "more is better" makes what we have only a single step on a long staircase to Utopia. "Don't enjoy each step," we are taught, "save it for one big, eternal enjoyment when you get to the top!"
Third, ingratitude is a clever cover for unworthiness. In a bold, rebellious reaction to the decision "I can't have anything," the slightly older child decides "I want it all!" Until one has "all," why bother enjoying any of it? There's still so much more "all" to get.
Whatever the reasonsbe it one of these, a combination of them, or some reasons we've yet to discoverthe habit of ingratitude is a primary inhibitor to enjoyment and wealth.
Most of us grew up in a time when more was better, and more was inevitable. There may have been gaps in the steadily upward path of progress, but the gapshowever deepwere always understood to be temporary.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. SHAKESPEARE
AS YOU LIKE IT
I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood. SHAKESPEARE
TWELFTH NIGHT
During the depression of the 1930s, prosperity was always "just around the corner." During World War II, when creature comforts grew scarce, people knew they only had to sacrifice "for the duration." The idea that our material abundance will stay the sameor worse, get worsewith no end in sight is not one we've entertained in the twentieth century.
We take for granted such basic things as central heating, indoor plumbing, electricity, potable water, uncontaminated food, a certain level of health care, refrigeration, transportation, "free" entertainment from radio, television and libraries, and much more.
PETER: While writing this chapter, I lost my electricity for a day. I complained to my mother that I couldn't get any writing done because my computer didn't work. She asked, "Why don't you use pencil and paper?" It had never occurred to me! Although I've written twenty books "by hand," the twelve years I've used a computer have spoiled me utterly.
We take things for granted and, therefore, don't feel grateful for them. If it's granted, why should we? That's the norm, that's expected, that's what we're entitled to.*
What we've mentioned thus far are, of course, external things we often fail to be grateful for. How about our bodies? Of all the things the average, healthy person takes most for granted, his or her body is high on the list. Motion, speech, hearing, seeing, tasting, touch, digestion, assimilationeven relative freedom from painhow often are we grateful for these?
Then there are the thoughts we think without having to think about thinking them, memory, intelligence, wisdom, intuition, our personalities and all the treasures contained thereina sense of humor, kindness, compassion, caring, loving.
Then there's the gift of life itself.
Unless one of these bodily functions is taken from us or is severely threatened, we seldom notice it, much less take the time to be grateful for it.
Ralph Kramden: I promise you this, Norton. I'm gonna learn. I'm gonna learn from here on in how to swallow my pride. Ed Norton: That ought not to be too hard. You've learned how to swallow everything else.
"THE HONEYMOONERS"
And what does all this ingrained ingratitude cost us?
First, it keeps us from enjoying what we've got. We are not aware of the wealth in each moment. Not even being aware of the wealth, how can we be grateful for it? Second, ingratitude keeps us from getting more of what we want. Whom do you prefer giving things tothe person who doesn't even bother to acknowledge your gift, or the person who expresses genuine gratitude? Why should the Universe respond any differently? Yes, the squeaky wheel may be the first one greased, but it's also the first one replaced.
Ingratitude places a barrier on what we receivethe greater the ingratitude, the greater the barrier.
Some people say, "I hate my life. I hate everything about my life. I need to change." What these people need to change is their attitude of ingratitude. They need to learn to appreciate and be grateful for the life they already have, then work on changing it.
If they somehow rally all their strength and make the changes they think will make them happy, within a short time they'll hate the new life as much as they hated the oldprobably more. After all, they worked so hard for the new life. They no doubt worked to change the outer, but they did little to change the inner.
This is a recurring theme in this book, and we'll look at it from many angles: if we're not enjoying what we've got, it's going to be difficult to get the "more" we wantand even if we do get "more," we won't enjoy that either.
