Never Get Angry Again

by David J. Lieberman

  How we feel about ourselves determines how long pain lingers and whether it morphs into suffering. The equation is simple: Being self-centered = suffering. This explains why an emotionally immature person, one with low self-esteem (or a child, perhaps), becomes agitated over every little thing that goes wrong. In fact, the attributes of someone with a narrow perspective can be characterized as childlike. Small children are egocentric beings. They react to their environment with sudden tantrums, mindless exuberance, wild mood swings, and an absolute, black-and-white view of events. They are quick to misread or misinterpret others’ behavior, and they overreact to perceived insults, slights, and criticism.

  Without the emotional shock absorber of perspective, we feel only pain—and pain that persists is suffering. That’s because perspective provides context, and context allows us to more easily attach significance and meaning to challenges. We can see how seemingly disparate facets integrate into a larger whole, and each new piece of the puzzle that we identify helps clarify and define what we already know. Imagine the wings of a butterfly magnified a thousand times. Being so close to it, we can’t tell what it is, what it does, or why it exists. It’s necessary to take a step back to see what it really is. Then its design, details, and meaning become clear. The wings are part of a larger organism. Everything begins to make sense when we have perspective.

  * * *

  Research on physical pain management also shows us that pain severity depends on the context in which the pain occurs. The pain threshold—someone’s ability to bear pain—increases as the person better understands the body’s healing process and the role of pain in healing. This explains why people who suffer from major depression have a lower pain threshold.1 As an individual becomes increasingly focused on himself, he loses perspective, then context, and then meaning. He is left with only pain, and much of life—living itself—becomes hard.

  When we buy a gift for a loved one, we can’t wait to give it, to see the pleasure it brings. We can work tirelessly for someone we care about or for a cause we believe in and not feel the pain—and perhaps experience great joy—because our focus is on the larger, meaningful objective. Hours fly by, and we don’t realize it. Similarly, when we love ourselves, we can invest in our long-term satisfaction and well-being with maximum effort and minimal pain. Even though we expend a great deal of energy, self-esteem taps us into the Infinite, a limitless source. How we feel about ourselves determines whether we are focused on the pleasure or on the pain—and defines the entirety of the experience.

  WHAT DOESN’T BREAK US

  We all know people who led charmed lives, with every advantage during their youth and upbringing, but later made a succession of stunningly irresponsible choices that dragged them down a path of misery. We are equally mindful of those who have been dealt one challenge after another yet soared above even the most daunting heartaches, embracing their futures with steadfast courage and optimism.

  A range of ceaseless heartaches and anguish—imprisonment, betrayal, treachery, and murder—awaited every great figure in the Bible without exception: Adam, Noah, Sarah, Rachel, Leah, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, King David, King Solomon—and the list goes on. Who could argue that the lives of these Bible giants were not difficult? Yet who would say that their lives were not the paradigm of meaning and fulfillment?

  King David writes, “Had I not been preoccupied with Your Bible, I would have perished in my suffering.”2 Despite his life full of trials and tribulations, his psalms exude joy and gratitude, because when one lives a meaningful life, pain and pleasure coexist.3 It’s essential to understand that pain does not make a person unhappy—suffering does, and suffering is a consequence of our choices, not of our circumstances. Meaning fills our lives with pleasure and douses the flames of suffering. Struggles and setbacks are a part of life, but without perspective, they become our lives. Of course, we feel pain. It’s part of the process—but we don’t suffer unless we get stuck along the way.

  I’VE GOT THE WHOLE WORLD IN MY HANDS

  Humility does not spring from a sense of inferiority but bubbles forth from the fountain of reality. It’s too easy to make the mistake of believing that humility is weakness; rather, it is strength. An arrogant person only takes from others. He has no capacity to give and so is not free. He is an emotional junkie, depending on others to feed his fragile ego—he’s a slave to his own impulses, which he cannot rise above. When a person has humility, he is free because he is full—filled with gratitude; and gratitude and joy are intimately linked. If we think about the people we know who have a sense of gratitude, these same individuals are the most joyful. By contrast, those who lack appreciation for what they have live in a cycle of unrealized expectations and perpetual disappointment. They are filled with anger and resentment not because of anything major, but because their entire focus is on trivial matters that consume them with negativity. Let’s connect the dots:

  The more responsible your choices (soul-oriented) → your self-esteem increases → your ego shrinks → your perspective widens → you perceive a greater context → your life (and life’s challenges) has more meaning → [which results in pleasure] your humility stirs → your gratitude surges → and your joy flows.

  The less responsible your choices → your self-esteem decreases → your ego expands → your perspective narrows → you perceive a diminished context → your life (and life’s challenges) loses meaning [you feel numb, depressed] → your arrogance grows → and this fuels frustration, anger, and resentment.

  A healthy perspective fosters an organic attitude of gratitude, which itself changes the quality of our lives. (A summary of research findings on the benefits of gratitude is discussed in Chapter 28.) The only thing we truly have domain over is the quality of our choices, how we choose to live our lives. The wider and deeper our perspective in life, the more permanent and deep our gratitude. Nothing needs to happen to make us feel good. We simply appreciate what we have. When we are egocentric, we become angry and frustrated with life for disappointing us. Our expectations are never met, and we’re consumed with thoughts of what we lack and what is owed to us. Happiness eludes us. We’re always one step away from feeling complete, and we’ll search endlessly for that next great thing that promises to bring us lasting fulfillment. Life becomes insufferable because as much good fortune as we receive, we are never fulfilled, because our focus is on what’s missing and what’s not good.

  The egocentric psyche is not even deterred from pursuing an irrational or useless gain. So insidious is its desire for more, that even when we’re racking up a high score on a video game, where our goal is the mere accrual of points, the brain’s expectation mechanism is just as active. The ego doesn’t care how useful something is—where there is something to be had, it wants it.4

  * * *

  Research shows that circumstances don’t relate to life satisfaction, but subjective feelings do—and subjective feelings directly reflect our choices, not our conditions. The results of a study conducted at Harvard University bear this out. “Once we realize how much our reality depends on how we view it, it comes as less of a surprise that our external circumstances predict only about 10 percent of our total happiness.”5

  If we look around, we will notice that there are certain people who, no matter how fortunate their circumstances, are angry and unhappy, while there are those who endure unimaginable ordeals and move through life with an unshakable, deep sense of appreciation and joy. More important than the road we travel is who we become along the way. The ego too easily tricks us into accepting that what happens to us is the yardstick of significance. Yet it isn’t the challenges we face, but how we face our challenges, that determines the true nature of the experience, and this is something we always have complete control over.

  PART III

  MAKING SENSE OF PAIN AND SUFFERING

  9

  Here Comes the Pain

  Parts I and II of this book explored the psychological equation: The quality of our ch
oices = the quality of our lives. In this section, we’ll channel our psychological understanding into a larger spiritual context, to gain a deeper understanding of emotional health, in general, and of anger, in particular. As Abraham Maslow reminds us, “The spiritual life is part of the human essence. It is a defining characteristic of human nature…”

  When a person experiences physical pain, he’s unable to let his mind drift. He can’t help but be absorbed in the present moment. Emotional pain has the same capacity to bring us into the present.1 Pain, however, only acts as a fulcrum. It doesn’t move us, but it gives us the opportunity to respond in one of three ways: (1) we can choose to avoid or dull the pain with endless distractions and excessive indulgence; (2) we can fortify our false self and become indignant, to compensate for feelings of weakness and vulnerability; or (3) we can act responsibly, accept the outcome, and seek meaning in the experience. If we see and accept a difficult reality—and get the message—then the pain pierces our shell, the ego. Instead of merely denting our image, the experience penetrates straight through to our soul. And we grow. Eminent psycholgist and Holocaust survivor Frankl writes, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”2

  We feel pain and label it “bad,” but something that causes us emotional pain is not necessarily a bad thing. Is a person lying in a vegetative state, oblivious to pain, better off than one who endures life’s daily struggles? Pain does not obstruct our growth. Pain functions as a necessary catalyst for growth, and growth is not negotiable—it is why we exist in the world, and without its prodding, we would never budge. Concerning the benefits of physical pain—how dangerous would life be if we didn’t have pain receptors? If we accidentally leaned against a hot stove and didn’t feel the heat, our flesh would burn. After falling, we might limp around with broken bones and cause ourselves more damage. Could we say that a person is better off not feeling the pain?

  THE REAL YOU

  To gain a greater understanding for life’s difficulties, we need to pull back the lens further and look at this life within the larger context of our soul. Or, to put it more accurately, within the larger context of the real us. Because the truth is we do not have a soul. We are a soul, and we have a body.3

  As we learned, challenges, in and of themselves, do not impinge on our happiness, nor do they cause us to become an angry person—but suffering does. Suffering is, as we discussed, the emotional consequence of ignoring reality and the opportunity for growth. Therefore, even if one doesn’t embrace the soul’s need to perfect itself, from a mental health standpoint the surest, swiftest, only real path to a satisfying, fulfilling, and pleasurable life is to greet reality with open arms. As we noted in Chapter 1, the research is definitive: Our tendency to avoid the pain inherent in taking responsibility for our lives is at the root of anger, and is central to nearly every emotional ailment. (We say pain rather than challenge because we don’t shy away from encounters—even challenging ones—that we want to take on. Indeed, we may seek them out enthusiastically; and, too, we may run from tasks that are boring or arduous, but not because they are inherently difficult, but painful in that we find them uninteresting or uninspiring).

  Let’s remind ourselves that the more responsible our choices, the greater our self-esteem; the ego shrinks, and our perspective widens. We then gain context and meaning, which in turn give us pleasure (and reduce suffering), as well as the ability to feel empathy for others—to connect, to give love, and to receive love. Yet even with intense emotional pain, we still have the choice: We can suppress the pain and distract ourselves, feel angry and arrogant about our situation, or try to see the meaning in the experience and use it as an opportunity to grow. Should we resist reality, our struggle will be in vain. If we fail to act responsibly, all pain swells into suffering, and all suffering gives birth to anger. We sink lower and destroy ourselves from the inside out until we allow the self-correcting mechanism of pain to penetrate our shell and steer us in a healthier, more responsible direction. Some people respond when they see the light, others when they feel the heat, and still others will not budge until they get burned—and at times, not even then. What kind of person do you want to be? The answer to that question will determine the kind of life that you are going to lead.

  WHY IS THIS MY CHALLENGE, ANYWAY?

  Sometimes life just seems unfair. Outright painful. Downright difficult. Unjust. Yes, we control the quality of our lives and our emotional response to any given situation, but a major source of anger derives from the belief that we have received undeserved and excessive hardships. When, objectively speaking, we experience a double or triple helping of struggles that others are spared, this understandably challenges our sense of fairness. Even if we accept that certain ordeals inspire self-reflection and growth, why is a particular flaw inherent in us—the soul—in the first place?

  In the following chapter, we’ll explain this, as well as the force that protects the soul’s mission, which helps us advance along the path we must travel and helps explain not only why seemingly bad things happen to good people, but the perhaps more nagging question, often paired with the first: Why do good things happen to bad people?

  10

  Why Good Things Happen to Bad People

  Each of us has a unique purpose in this world, and our talents and strengths—and many of life’s challenges—are tailor-made to help us accomplish what the soul requires. The word that most precisely describes this synced system is the Hebrew mazal. Mazal, literally “constellations,” means the astrological influence that a person is born under (and refers to an inscrutable correlation between the natural world and a person’s nature, having little to do with modern-day astrology, fortune-telling, and horoscopes.)

  The word mazal is often translated as “luck,” because, from our perspective, what happens to a person frequently appears to be random. What we fail to recognize is that for a person to complete his task in this world, he may, for example, enjoy undeserved riches or be faced with abject poverty. Therefore, one individual may do all the right things, yet still not seem to “catch a break,” while another person effortlessly achieves success at every turn, sometimes despite himself. Mazal is more accurately defined as the confluence of conditions and circumstances that we require to complete, to perfect, ourselves. Before a person is born into this world, the instruments—the qualities and characteristics, the physical and mental abilities, and the means at his disposal—are synchronized to optimize the soul’s path toward perfection.

  Mazal is influential but not irrevocable or inescapable. We cannot expect that fate will swerve to intercept us, and that regardless of our efforts, good fortune or crisis will simply materialize to reveal an unalterable destiny. While mazal exists to expedite needed growth for the soul, we have to do our part, and we certainly cannot be negligent. Imagine, for instance, a person whose mazal dictates great wealth, but who chooses to spend his time with trivial pursuits. As fate would have it, he inherits one million dollars, which he promptly gambles at the racetrack. His mazal holds firm, and he wins. However, then he bets it all again and again and again. At some point, his mazal will run out. Our mazal helps us advance the path that we must travel and is synchronized to our life’s purpose. Therefore, a person who forsakes accountability may lose whatever positive protection their mazal afforded him.

  Due to the hidden influences of our soul, we’re unable to gauge what is in the overall best interest of each soul and its purpose in this world. We can never say that a person injured or killed by a seemingly random event has abdicated his role or responsibility, for many great people have met with tragic, untimely deaths. A shared fate does not mean a shared spiritual level. We must never presume otherwise. Likewise, because we are each on our own level, a choice for one person is not necessarily a choice for another. Hence, the familiar dictum not to judge another person until you walk a mile in his shoes.

  * * *

  Naturally, people have different lean
ings and inborn desires which, Edmund Burke elegantly wrote, is not explained by reason, but rather “captivate the soul before the understanding is ready either to join with them, or to oppose them.” We come into the world with a unique set of traits, none of which are inherently good or bad, but which can be channeled to be either constructive or destructive. Even the basest traits can be used for good. The preeminent psychologist Carl Jung explains, “Creative powers can just as easily turn out to be destructive. It rests solely with the moral personality whether they apply themselves to good things or to bad; and if this is lacking, no teacher can supply it or take its place.”1 Maslow, who established self-actualization as the pinnacle of human need, sums up the principle:

  A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write if he is to be at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. This is the need we may call self-actualization … it refers to man’s desire for fulfillment, namely to the tendency for him to become actually in what he is potentially: to become everything that he is capable of becoming.2

  Therefore, he should find a positive outlet for his inborn drives. He must direct any and all tendencies toward his growth, and if he fails to capitalize on their positive use, he will ultimately surrender to his unbridled desires and be governed by them.

  Just as each person has a unique purpose with tailormade strengths, our weaknesses too are fashioned to maximize our potential; as Sigmund Freud writes, “Out of your vulnerabilities will come your strengths.” Which means that a struggle for some people may not be for others. The challenges we face are sometimes universal and generic—for example, overcoming anger and laziness—and at other times unique to us, such as dealing with a specific physical limitation or emotional sensitivity. These factors set the tone for our experiences in life, but as we will recall, they remain irrelevant to one’s satisfaction in life. Let’s now remind ourselves what is explained in Chapter 8, because it’s too easy to be fooled into thinking otherwise.