When I retire.
When this ships.
When January starts.
I’ll be happy when the weekend gets here.
The problem is that the good bit keeps moving.
I’ll Be Happy When...
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@Mikehawk6565 This is true. Flexible thinking is needed because things change. Rigid thinking keeps us stuck. It’s very easy to get stuck in loops and doing the same thing over and over even when its self defeating.
One criticism: “They’ve finally seen the real me.”
Ten compliments: “They’re just being nice.”
One failure is evidence.
Ten wins are luck.
Discounting the positive isn’t humility. It’s a rigged trial where every piece of evidence must prove you’re not enough.
If the bad counts, the good has to count too.
There is lots to say about the “defectiveness” schema — that quiet belief that somewhere underneath it all, something is wrong with me.
I’m defective. Inferior. Too much. Not enough.
That belief produces shame, and shame makes us hide. So we start shoving bits of ourselves into the basement, hoping nobody notices.
Problem is, the basement has stairs.
Those parts come knocking eventually.
You can change jobs, partners, cities, bodies, bank balances. You still keep turning up.
At some point you have to renegotiate the terms of the relationship you have with yourself.
Otherwise you can spend an entire life saying:
“I’ll be happy when…”
When what?
When I lose the weight?
Make the money?
Get the promotion?
Find the relationship?
Become impressive enough that nobody can reject me?
It’s conditional happiness built on conditional self-worth.
And it’s worth asking: what conditions have I secretly placed on being allowed to like myself?
Then comes the stranger discovery.
Maybe unconditional self-worth is still giving the idea of “self-worth” too much credit.
Maybe your worth doesn’t rise and fall like a stock price depending on what you achieved Tuesday or what someone thought of you Friday.
I remember telling a friend as a teenager that I hated someone.
He kept asking, “Why?”
“Just because” apparently wasn’t acceptable.
Eventually it came down to something the person had done, said or believed.
And I’d turned that into a judgement of the whole human being.
We do exactly the same thing to ourselves.
“I failed at this” becomes “I’m a failure.”
“I acted badly” becomes “I’m bad.”
“I embarrassed myself” becomes “There’s something wrong with me.”
It’s an enormous logical leap.
Nothing I can think about another person changes their basic human worth.
So why would one mistake, weakness, opinion, rejection or failure change mine?
Alan Watts spoke beautifully about how we raise people almost like permanent apprentice humans.
Finish school.
Then university.
Then get the job.
Then the house.
Then the relationship.
Then become successful.
Then perhaps you’ll finally qualify.
But nobody graduates.
Maybe the better message is:
We don’t really have this figured out either.
Here are a few principles that might help.
You’re going to screw some of it up.
You’ll learn.
You’ll change.
And you don’t have to earn the right to be a human being while you’re doing it.
There is lots to say about the “defectiveness” schema — that quiet belief that somewhere underneath it all, something is wrong with me.
I’m defective. Inferior. Too much. Not enough.
That belief produces shame, and shame makes us hide. So we start shoving bits of ourselves into the basement, hoping nobody notices.
Problem is, the basement has stairs.
Those parts come knocking eventually.
You can change jobs, partners, cities, bodies, bank balances. You still keep turning up.
At some point you have to renegotiate the terms of the relationship you have with yourself.
Otherwise you can spend an entire life saying:
“I’ll be happy when…”
When what?
When I lose the weight?
Make the money?
Get the promotion?
Find the relationship?
Become impressive enough that nobody can reject me?
It’s conditional happiness built on conditional self-worth.
And it’s worth asking: what conditions have I secretly placed on being allowed to like myself?
Then comes the stranger discovery.
Maybe unconditional self-worth is still giving the idea of “self-worth” too much credit.
Maybe your worth doesn’t rise and fall like a stock price depending on what you achieved Tuesday or what someone thought of you Friday.
I remember telling a friend as a teenager that I hated someone.
He kept asking, “Why?”
“Just because” apparently wasn’t acceptable.
Eventually it came down to something the person had done, said or believed.
And I’d turned that into a judgement of the whole human being.
We do exactly the same thing to ourselves.
“I failed at this” becomes “I’m a failure.”
“I acted badly” becomes “I’m bad.”
“I embarrassed myself” becomes “There’s something wrong with me.”
It’s an enormous logical leap.
Nothing I can think about another person changes their basic human worth.
So why would one mistake, weakness, opinion, rejection or failure change mine?
Alan Watts spoke beautifully about how we raise people almost like permanent apprentice humans.
Finish school.
Then university.
Then get the job.
Then the house.
Then the relationship.
Then become successful.
Then perhaps you’ll finally qualify.
But nobody graduates.
Maybe the better message is:
We don’t really have this figured out either.
Here are a few principles that might help.
You’re going to screw some of it up.
You’ll learn.
You’ll change.
And you don’t have to earn the right to be a human being while you’re doing it.
That’s a good one.
Another version I find useful.
There are lots of states in between. 12345678910
It’s better to think in scales or likelihood or probability.
Ie thinking in grey scales. There often is a lot of space in between black and white. Or or off. In and out. Good and bad.
Real life is more complicated.
So sure do shortcut thinking when you need to. But don’t get locked into absolutes.
Life is more complicated than that.
All-or-nothing thinking is one of the most vicious lies your mind tells you.
You set perfection as the entry fee—then use your inevitable imperfection as proof that you’re defective.
Miss one workout: “I have no discipline.”
Make one mistake: “I’m incompetent.”
Get rejected once: “Nobody wants me.”
Fall short: “Why bother?”
That’s what makes it so insidious. It doesn’t judge what happened. It turns what happened into a verdict on who you are.
Then it erases every inch of progress, makes quitting feel logical, and calls the whole thing “high standards.”
The middle isn’t mediocrity.
It’s where every worthwhile life is built.
Yes, the key is to separate what we say, do and believe from the “being” of a person.
For ourselves - that way, you can actually hear the criticism and even dig deeper or get specific and take on Feedback on how to improve. Because it’s no longer a threat to your sense of worth.
Two very different origin stories and sources of culture.
I love the US “you can be anything you want” it’s not true but it’s a great aim -and ideal. I also like the Aust no bullshit approach. The answer is probably somewhere in the middle. But you also want to turn that dial up and down when needed so-that you can adapt to what’s actually needed.
I am heading to California next month to a conference. So we will see.
Nonetheless its better to work out a way to navigate disapproval.
The way I separate it is that you can disagree with anything I say do or believe - and I reserve the right of reply. You need to keep that separate and distinct from who you are or you get hypnotised you’re cooked.
If you believe your worth is on the line if challenged by someone else you are less likely to set out to do (anything) in the first place.
You should be able to be boring, wrong and tired — and nothing bad happens.
That's the marker. Not how much you feel. Whether you can breathe out.
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