Unhidden
Page 3
The message then paints the dire consequence of not purchasing this product: you’ll never find that special someone and you’ll end up dying alone. Such messages teach you to dislike yourself because you, according to our distorted world, are never doing it right.
My hypothesis is that society is set up this way to (a) ensure our conformity, (b) disempower the masses, and (c) increase consumerism. You may be excellent at moving up the corporate ladder but not very skilled at enjoying it. Do you often feel when you climb one mountain you are immediately looking for the next one to climb? Let’s flip this script right now. Take in the following sentence and see how it feels: “You are an amazing human being.”
Do those words feel uncomfortable to receive? Did your inner critic rise to debate them? Did you automatically brush my compliment aside?
My experience with men is that, even though they may act with bravado, talk big, and peacock around, to receive an authentic compliment is a challenge. Underneath your show, you have a loud critic working non-stop. You are constantly comparing yourself to other men, mercilessly judging your experiences against your perceptions of others’ lives, and reinforcing your viewpoint of how little you matter. You believe you’re doing it wrong because it’s all you’ve ever known. It’s definitely time to change this script.
The Antidote
I never expected to fall in love with the practice of yoga. In my first few classes, I sat in the back and did my best not to be noticed by the other people in the class, due to my own loud mental critic. For me, one of the most challenging yoga poses is called the dancer’s pose. In this pose (pictured right), I would stand on one leg and then bend my other leg up as high as possible behind my shoulder, extending my arms in opposite directions. The goal of the pose was to keep my balance as I raised my leg towards the ceiling. I have been doing this pose for 20 years, still with only moderate success. In fact, when I first started, I often found myself face-planting and then beating myself up for falling in the pose. Eventually I grasped the most important lesson I was learning about myself through this practice: It was not how well I did the pose but what happened after I fell out of it. It was not about how I looked but how much I loved myself for trying. The transformation was palatable and it impacted my viewpoint about “failure” in all aspects of my life. For example, my experience to falling out changed after my realization:
Before: Lie embarrassed on the floor in my own sweat, bemoaning the fact that I had fallen.
After: Jump up with a hearty ha!, reset myself, and get right back into the pose. Praise myself for even attempting a pose this insane.
If you are going to live life as a grand adventure, I suspect you will put yourself into challenging situations. If you don’t, what’s the fun of living? Sometimes you’ll stand tall and succeed and other times you’ll miscue and end up falling on your face. My hope is that regardless of the outcome you will celebrate your deep courage for moving out of your status quo and trying something new. The antidote requires patience, a softer, less critical voice with yourself, and your self-validation. I know if you live this way you will have a richer, fuller life than if you had never even tried at all. The only way I got better at dancer’s pose was to keep trying.
7
THE INFLUENCE OF SCARCITY
My Relationship with Scarcity
I grew up as an unfortunate combination of Jewish, overweight, smart, and lover of all things nerdy. I lacked confidence around social interactions with the girls my age and, on top of that, had a rich fantasy life. I dreamed of being the popular kid, svelte, smart, funny, and the object of affection for the young ladies in my class. Predictability, they gravitated to the more fit, witty boys and, although I added value by offering my help with their homework, I could not move out of the friend zone. In response, both my frustration and my fantasy life expanded exponentially as I longed to be desired. I felt desperately alone in my awkward misery.
During my freshman year, I started to play football with the other boys in my class, where I excelled, both as a leader and as a strong member of the team. My position was offensive tackle, which meant my job was to block for my teammates. It was a position without much attention or glory because the eyes of all the spectators were on the quarterback and running backs. While I felt deeply accomplished in my position, I realized I was still unnoticed by the cheerleaders whose attention I deeply desired. Furthermore, I understood my energy on the playing field was allowing the other boys to get that very attention.
One Saturday afternoon during the season, I attended a football party along with other members of the team, the cheerleaders, and all the popular kids in my grade. The party was thrown by the quarterback, Michael, who I envied for his handsome face, strong body, and popularity with the girls in my class. Although my role on the team allowed me to be invited to the party, I was still aware of my place at the lower end of the social food chain. I stood around the edge of the party, trying to hold down the Pabst beer and watching the interactions among all the kids. At one point, I noticed Michael and several other kids head towards his room and, without thinking, followed this crowd. As we settled into his room, he lowered the lights and turned on some music. I immediately realized there was one extra boy in the room and instantly knew who was going to be the odd man out. After a few moments of trying to look cool, after a slight nudge from one of the other boys, I sheepishly rose and exited the room without saying a word. Closing the door, I felt the extent of my self-disgust and the confirmation that the only attention I was going to have from those attractive cheerleaders would be in my own fantasy life. I left the party quickly and went home to the solace of my bedroom feeling the deep FOMO—fear of missing out—of not being in that room. I promised myself to never put myself in that situation again.
In that ten-minute period in Michael’s room, I had validated my own belief that there would never be enough for me. I would always be the odd man out. It would take years to understand how traumatic this experience would be and the negative impact it would have on the rest of my life. It was in these torturous moments that I labeled myself a loser and assumed that I would be in this position for my entire life. In my coaching practice, I have heard hundreds of similar tales from grown men with similar experiences. We created the story that it was only the lucky few who got all the attention and there would never be enough for us.
The Limiting Factor (Me!)
My experience in Michael’s room plagued me until I started to do my own personal work. After my experience in Erwan’s basement workshop, I dove deep into my personal self-development work by attending workshops and seminars. When I walked in with my well worn stories, my teachers quickly caught wind of my self-defeating belief system. Even though I was married to an attractive woman and was successful in my corporate job, I still believed I didn’t compare to the other men in the world and was one moment away from being nudged from the room. I was still the young boy who was the odd man out. I thought if I changed my appearance and life circumstances, everything would be great. Even though I had lost all the weight I had carried as a young boy years ago, I still carried it around in my head and nervous system.
I also saw my habit of rejecting the ‘other’ before they could reject me. I would avoid pain by taking fewer chances and playing small. When men fear rejection, they put on their masks, act cocky, and push potential partners away if they feel the possibility of being hurt. This pattern of ghosting confuses women and causes disconnection and anger between the genders. With my teachers’ guidance, I started to confront my own scarcity and looked at the core issues around it and how I was actually sabotaging myself with my own beliefs. I was walking into potentially rewarding situations convinced I could not have what I wanted. I would see women I was attracted to but assume that they would never date a man like me. In my first marriage to Carol, it was she who pursued me initially. This, my self-reflection dictated, was the only reason I had the courage to ask her out.
As I attended mo
re workshops and continued tearing apart my self-defeating viewpoints, I felt my vision of the world shifting from scarcity to abundance. I started to see there was actually more love and attention out there than I could handle and my ability to receive was the limiting factor. I believed, like most men, that our value was on what I did and what I produced. I was unskillful at receiving simple things like compliments or genuine attention. In other words, if those cheerleaders had actually put any attention on me those many years ago, I wonder if I could even have received it. Probably not. I realized I needed to learn to receive in order to accept all the good that the universe wanted to offer me. The ironic result was that, once I started to work on my own capacity to receive, more and more abundance started to show up.
It was my foot on the brakes that was stopping me, and my chronic lack of self-worth was running my life.
My work with my teachers created a new story for me called abundance. This is the belief there is and always has been enough for everyone. The first thing my teachers asked me was what the benefit was to believing there was not enough for me. After many sessions, I saw I actually enjoyed being the martyr who never got what he wanted. I loved the movie protagonist of the teenage geek, tortured by the cool kids, fighting back and eventually getting the girl. But while I loved these protagonists, I also doubted it would work out for me, so why even bother trying. There was comfort and safety in my internal world where I would never face rejection. When my work with teachers showed me the impact of quitting, I created a practice of not letting rejection stop me. When I got a “no,” I would continue to try rather than quit.
Here is an example of how the old me would ask out an acquaintance:
Me: Maybe we could have dinner together tonight?
Her: Ummm … no, thank you … I can’t.
Me: All right.
Here is an example of how the new me would ask out an acquaintance:
Me: Maybe we could have dinner together tonight?
Her: Ummm … no, thank you … I can’t.
Me:
Her: Well … hmmm … I don’t know. I don’t really know you.
Me:
Her:
I believe that no means no; however, it is just a rejection of a specific offer. If you can keep your chin up and not whine, then go ahead and ask for something else that you may get a yes to. You may miss out on connection and abundance by taking the first no as evidence of the world’s scarcity. While this does not mean you should become a pest (or stalker) and keep going until you get a “No, no, go away,” I do encourage you to take one more step towards what you want before you give up.
Understanding Jealousy and Envy
Psychology Today provides this definition for the difference between jealousy and envy:
Envy occurs when we lack a desired attribute enjoyed by another.
Jealousy occurs when something we already possess (usually a special relationship) is threatened by a third person.
Unfortunately, society has a negative value judgment against both. While the two emotions may feel similar, there are two distinct ways to use them for your growth. Let’s start with jealousy. When I query people about their relationship to it, most of them respond with some form of either “I hate it,” “It’s horrible,” “I try to avoid it at all costs,” or, at its worst, “It feels like I am dying.” Every once in a while, I’ll get a response that correlates to my own view of it: “It turns me on.”
No, that’s not a typo. I view jealousy as one of the most powerful tools for evolution. The first important step of integrating jealousy is to acknowledge that no one has ever made you jealous. You might get mad at your partner’s actions that sparked the emotion, or you may assume that they don’t care. Even if they acted deliberately to get your attention, it is still your choice to label this experience as negative.
Let’s take a step back. I truly understand the intense pain of feeling jealous. In my worst experience, when Carol came home after a two-week program, I could sense how much she had changed. I was nervous and deeply unhinged about the state of our relationship. I felt like I didn’t know her anymore. Her first night home, she informed me that she had connected emotionally and physically with another man and “was more in love with him than with me.” I felt as though she had punched me in the stomach. Murderous fury, fear, and pain arose within me. While she had not done anything outside our relationship agreements, I still felt a sense of deep betrayal. That night we went to bed disconnected.
The next day I called a trusted and more experienced friend to ask for his view of what was happening. He said something I’ll never forget. “Rob, I don’t think Carol is in love with him. I suspect she’s in love with how she feels around him.” I repeated the words back to myself; she’s in love with how she feels … around him. Oh! A-ha! Hmm …”
Before my talk with my friend, I felt jealous because I believed this man was threatening what I considered to be a possession of mine. I didn’t understand he was simply making her happy. Happier than she was with me at the current time. If I wanted, I could perceive what he was offering me as a priceless gift. If I was willing to put aside my anger for a moment, he was showing me a better way to relate to my wife. My current old tricks and techniques that had worked to make Carol happy before we started our personal development weren't working anymore. I was now being called upon to fully pay attention to what she actually wanted in a partner. I made a mental note to up my game. In other words, I used the power of jealousy to motivate me to be a better man. Since that moment, I’ve had thousands of challenging jealous moments. However, instead of avoiding them or letting them control me, I leaned in and tried to see what I could learn to uplevel my skills.
I have redefined jealousy for myself a bit differently over time. Here is my current definition:
Jealousy is the crazy, sometimes awful, energetic sensation that fills your body when something intense is going on around you and you feel like you've lost control of your system.
It is when you know someone else has something you want or is doing something with someone who you wish you could be with.
I happens when someone else wins the competition, has a nicer car, or a more glamorous job than you.
It often occurs when you feel a sense of disconnection and/or perceiving yourself as “less than.”
Envy, for some, is a little easier to handle. While it’s challenging to see another with a skill or attribute that you want, there is not the same sense that something being taken away for you. Some examples are your favorite basketball star dunking, videos of flashy entrepreneurs on Facebook showing their expensive houses and cars, or brilliant people who are masterful investors. You may want what they have but do not necessarily feel like they are taking it from you.
When I was younger, I would let envy paralyze me. I would watch the boys in gym class flow up and down the soccer field with ease. I would think to myself, “I could never do that.” As I got older and my relationship to envy changed, I used it to motivate myself. For example, I watch with envy guys at my gym pumping out a dozen pull-ups without breaking a sweat. My entire life, I’ve been able to do three or four at best. Instead of quitting, watching them motivates me to get my ass back to that bar to practice. I view the sensation of envy as my system is saying “I want that” and use it to push myself to become a better and better man.
In relationships, the most destructive impact of jealousy and envy is that you are so afraid to feel them that they stop you and your partner from truly living. You demand that your partner not put you into a situation where jealousy might occur. Even in the healthiest and most deeply committed relationships
, your partner will be energetically, emotionally, and/or sexually attracted to people other than you. It is part of their human nature. However, because you do not want to feel uncomfortable, you blackmail them into hiding these very natural feelings from you. You’ve just created a form of lockdown that impacts your self-esteem as well as the trust and flow of truth and intimacy between you and your partner. If your partner strays from your approved set of behaviors (e.g. “Why were you standing so close to him and touching his arm?”), you may emotionally blackmail her into feeling confined and acting small. To keep the agreement, you do the same to yourself and, all of a sudden, both of you are hiding from each other.
Jealousy and envy are created when you believe in the concept of scarcity. I appreciate that you’ve lived in a distorted society that has sent you millions of messages affirming the toxic narrative of your not-enoughness. However, I am letting you know this is simply not true. There is enough love, romance, sex, intimacy, and connection out there for all of us. If your best friend starts dating your crush, be happy for him and turn your attention to another possible romantic partner. Use their success to engage and motivate you. In the following sections of the book, I offer you practices to help you to live these viewpoints.