Why Does Anyone Do Anything?

“If I were OK, and nothing from the outside made me feel anything, I’d stay in bed all day, every day” I said.

The late afternoon sun came through the long line of windows to my right. My black-socked feet splayed to a clock of ten and two. In front of me was a man in his late 40s, a tanned slim face, black hair parted from his right. He had light stubble, bare feet and distressed-jeans. With blue eyes tensed on me, he gave a contradictory rise of the left corner of his mouth. Between us was a wooden chest-come coffee table. My notepad lay open on it, virgin white. Black pen on top of that. Lid on. To the right of it was a white mug, coffee ring stain inside the brim. Two glasses, less than half full of water. A thumb-tack, point up, next to his glass.

“How do you know?” he said as his eyes twinkled with a question that flummoxed me. Michael, the coach I’d hired for the day had a point. I couldn’t know.

The idea of staying in bed all day, every day might have seemed like a good idea then, because the first part of the statement ‘If I were OK’ wasn’t something I could, back then, relate to.

Now, 15 years on from that afternoon in Los Angeles, I can see my innocence. My misunderstanding. I was too busy minded, too fixed in my ignorance to hear what was being pointed to me. I was convinced I needed fixing too. And my actions were based on fear. That if I didn’t do anything, life would be worse. Moments of joy were fleeting. They were the mask to me then. Under the mask was someone broken. No wonder I was afraid with all that going on, brick-solid, on my mind.

At some point in the months after that afternoon in December of 2010, it dawned on me that a tiger would not want to live in a cage, if it ever had the choice. The only time it would take the choice of living in a cage would be if the outside world was full of things out to get it. Would it? Even then? I doubt that I’d ever get the chance to have such a philosophical conversation with a tiger to know. But I digress…

So, there I was, scared of the world that seemed out to get me, that staying in bed for my entire life DID make sense. The world was messed up. I was messed up. Bed? Yeah – stay there, pal! So what made me get up out of bed? Fear. What made me want to stay in bed? Fear. Scared if I do, scared if I don’t.

Let me put this straight, when I wasn’t depressed, I was a high-functioning member of society. I’d pay my bills, my taxes, and my once-a-decade speeding fine. When I was depressed, I’d do the same. Most of the time that is, but it was a struggle.

It took willpower. A load of self-help books. Some sessions of therapy. No, the second and third things here were rare. It was willpower. That’s what made me do things. Including get up out of bed when I didn’t want to. During one of the deepest bouts of depression, now 20 years ago, I remember all my self-talk about getting up:

“Come on, get up!”

“No, not yet.”

“Yes! Now! Get up!”

“No”

“It’s almost 1pm!”

“I’ll get up at 2”

I wish I were kidding, but this was what was going on in my head.

Then, something curious happened. I’d find my feet on the floor, stood up and walked across the bedroom, away from my bed. Without the argument, or any single voice in my head telling me what to do. I’d just got up. I remember that confusing me.

Now, it makes all the sense in the world.

In late 2011, I read a book on the reading list that my fellow coaching students and I were told we had to read to ‘pass’ that school’s coaching certification. It was called ‘The Enlightened Gardner’ by Sydney Banks. I must confess, that while I rather enjoyed its easy-to-read style; its message was lost on me. Yet, in that book, the lead character said this to the people he was with:

“Do without doing and think without thinking.”

It was another 5 years before I had any idea what that was about. Now, I think I understand. Let me see if I can explain, knowing I might fail!

A few months ago, I went to the dentist. I was long overdue. Something like 10 years overdue. Not from a fear of dentists, I’ve never had that issue. I just couldn’t be bothered. The dental hygienist who I’d see every year or so, did her ‘scape and polish’, that was enough for me. Then, for some reason, it made sense for me to make an appointment to see the dentist. So I did. They did the dental exam and took x-rays. All pretty good. Apart from a receding bone line.

It was explained to me, in no uncertain terms, that it was due to me not flossing my teeth. And if I carried on not flossing, my teeth would have nothing to anchor themselves to. My 70s and beyond would be a bite and chew-free existence. Apples. Pears. Steak. All off the menu. That was enough for me to listen and take note.

In the time since, I’m not willing to lie and say I floss every day, but I do floss several times a week now. More than ever before. Not from fear. Not from willpower. From knowing it makes sense. To butcher what the Enlightened Gardner said ‘Doing without thinking.’ Yup, I find myself flossing without self-talk.

At some point in almost every working relationship with a client, once they see that the meaning we make is all a function of thought; they question why they would do anything.

“If nothing is at stake, why would I do anything?” or  “If nothing has inherent meaning, what’s the point in anything?” or something else to that effect would come out of their mouths. And I get it. Me too.

The answer they get to might be: ‘Just for the sake of it’ or ‘Because of the feeling’ or ‘It just makes sense’. That simple. And because it’s simple, my intellect resisted it. It wanted (and still does want) to chew and analyse anything and everything. Let’s face it, that’s what an intellect is for. Yet, it’s also what made me think the world was out to get me. And made me think there was something wrong with me that needed fixing. And made me create monsters in my mind to create strategies to overcome them. It made willpower seem necessary. Maybe sometimes it is.

But for almost everything I’ve taken a fresh look at in the past few years, it is not.

Inspiration. A quiet ‘doing without doing, and thinking without thinking’ – now that’s a life I didn’t know was available.

In down to earth terms, my life used to be:

1)     Have an idea

2)    Talk myself out of it

Now it’s a lot more like this:

1)     Have an idea

2)    Give it a try

Not always. Nope. There’s no perfection here. Yet, I’m learning that the voice that wants to talk myself out of doing things until I’m: ready / qualified / feeling more grounded / slimmer… that voice might have good intentions to keep me safe.

The truth is, knowing that my emotions only ever come from thought, not from the outside, and knowing what fuels and fills me can’t be broken; I’m free to live. Free to do. Living in a cage no longer makes any sense. Nor does thinking more to do better.

With love and thanks,

Wyn