Friday 28 July 2017

Can You Handle the Truth?








Captain Fantastic is a film that explores family, death and the American Dream. I loved this film. One of things that stayed with me was the father’s decision to tell the truth to his kids. There is an uncomfortable scene when he (Ben) and his six kids are having dinner with members of his wife’s family. One of the children asks a difficult question, the other adults answer in clichés and metaphors, but Ben responds with honesty. This is the way he has chosen to parent, with candour, even when it hurts or could be embarrassing.

This goes against the general rules for truth-telling. On the whole we believe we should tell the truth but we also might bend the truth or tell a small white lie to protect others. Clinical Psychologist, Jo Lambe defines a white lie as ‘a lie that if your friend, partner, parent or child found out, they would understand why you told it.’ Sounds reasonable and no doubt we can all think of situations or examples that would fit this definition. Lambe goes on to say ‘a dangerous lie is one we tell to protect ourselves, to stop anyone thinking badly of us.’

This makes it all more complicated.

Truthfulness, honesty and integrity are all highly esteemed by philosophers in all three major ethical theories: utilitarian, virtue and deontological. The first two allow for some caveats. If the consequences of lying lead to a better outcome than if the person told the truth, then the lie is permissible. This allows for the person to draw their own conclusions about the possible consequences of the truth and therefore potentially lie about situations that we would not consider morally ok. For example, by this logic Sally* could lie about the affair she is having because the truth will hurt her husband and their children. However, I am more interested in the less extreme lies we tell. Lies that cover up the disgusting dinner or the boring new boyfriend.


In considering my own lies, if I am honest (?!) the motives are not clear. I do not want to cause any hurt or offence, but underlying this motive is the desire to protect myself. I do not want you to think any less of me. I do not want to damage our relationship. Are these justifiable reasons to lie? Perhaps lying is a lazy form of communication. We cannot be bothered to deal with the issue or circumstance thoroughly and so we take the quickest or ‘easiest’ way out. Ultimately it could be more offensive to you that I choose to lie to you than tell you the truth. It suggests that I think you cannot cope with the truth, that you cannot handle a weaker, selfish me. Instead I have to feed you something that you will find palatable, that will make me look good (or a least not bad) in your eyes.

If we are to rely on our own motivations as a measure for how much truth we should tell, we are on dangerous ground. The lie that potentially protects you from harm, almost certainly does the same for me. The problem is this relies upon me making correct assumptions about you and the information you can handle. In my experience, people are surprising. My assumptions are not a good way of measuring whether or not I should tell a lie to protect someone. I am best at deciding lies that will protect myself. Is there really such a thing as an altruistic lie? Rather than thinking up white lies, perhaps we should become better at how we tell the truth.



* Some names have been changed.

Sunday 16 July 2017

Patience is a virtue!




I have been without my car for the last ten days. A problem I thought would be solved by my friendly RAC man proved too complicated for roadside assistance. It has perplexed the mechanics at my garage too. So I was left changing plans stranded at home during the days.

It was not so much the inconvenience of not having a car that rankled but the not knowing when or even if I would have the car again. The not knowing and possible outcomes clouded my thinking. The frustration at having to say ‘No’ to people and feeling out of control of that choice led me to realise how losing control in this area of my life was affecting my well-being. I’m sure there were other factors at work too, there always are – it’s never just one thing that goes wrong.

The day my car was returned was a total surprise. There was no proceeding phone call, just a ring on the doorbell and there was my car back on the driveway. There was a great sense of relief (both my husband and I had thought we might have to find a new car) and a sense of childlike excitement. I was surprised at how fun it was to get back behind the wheel. The pleasure was heightened by putting the roof down and turning the music up! Philosophers would argue that this is one of the benefits of patience; having delayed gratification the enjoyment of the end is that much sweeter. I don’t know that I practised patience particularly well. I didn’t have too much choice in the matter, but the waiting definitely renewed my appreciation for driving in general and my car in particular.


In the middle of the not knowing and the disappointment I began to think about what I had been learning during these months of stillness and waiting. I had been trying to listen less to the negative thoughts that would bring a halt to everything and trying to listen more to the positive. I had reached a self-imposed deadline in my writing, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t more to be done. Being at home meant jobs that otherwise would have been delayed, got done.

This change in pace brought a different kind of thinking and for the first time in a while I had a completely new idea, not related to either of the two books I am currently writing, it  was exciting and refreshing to dream about something new for a while. It had become all to easy to forget some of my early thoughts about giving time for creativity when creating narrative and characters have become daily habits.
Being ‘on pause’ has been a recurring theme of this year. It goes against my natural instincts and common sense. It is not a passive inactivity but more a restful quietness that allows for envisioning and inspired ideas to come to the fore.

This week has taught me that there is always room for more. The creative well is deep. Sometimes obstacles and tedious waiting allows for that space and time for new ideas to grow.


Saturday 1 July 2017

Emotional Health Check



Public exams are over. Speaking to an eighteen year old who had sat his last exam this week, he shared his feelings of relief but also worry. He was already thinking about results day; wondering if he could have done more, if he had failed.

I have experienced my own failure this week. The knowledge that nothing had really changed as a result was not as comforting as it should have been. There’s a horrible feeling that comes with failure, that sense of stupidity, of being a fool for thinking you could do better or even for trying in the first place. The feelings triggered memories of failing my driving test (a number of times) and the disappointment I felt seeing my A level results. Neither of which has prevented me from doing anything I wanted to. Those small feelings of defeat this week evoked strong feelings of inadequacy.

It is easy to find motivational quotations to help move on from failure. As a teacher it was fairly regular practise to educate pupils in the short comings of other ‘Greats’ in order to inspire and comfort. Examples like ‘I have not failed 10,000 times. I’ve successfully found 10,000 ways that will work.’ (Thomas Edison)

In order to adopt a positive perspective one must first acknowledge the distortions that failure often brings. Guy Winch, a psychologist, thinks that it is time that we close the gap between our physical and mental health. He makes the point that we spend more time taking care of our teeth than our minds.

When we experience emotional pain like rejection, failure and loneliness we are likely to go into our default setting, which for most of us is a negative place. We start to re-live past hurts and somehow convince ourselves that this current hurt is no surprise; we probably deserve it. Our inner voice is often so negative, if we spoke out loud those thoughts to a friend, they would be shocked. We are mean, hurtful and rude to ourselves in a way we would never be to a friend. One step towards emotional health is speaking to yourself with compassion. Take a step back and see yourself as a friend you care about, what would you say to them?

 
Another common response to emotional pain is rumination – going over and over the situation and dwelling on the consequences and feelings. This can easily spiral downwards and out of control. It is effectively like having a fall and cutting your knee, only to get a knife and start stabbing at it. We would never do this to a physical wound, why do we do it with our emotional ones? Distraction is one way of dealing with over-thinking. Guy Winch reckons just two minutes of distraction is enough but we have to keep making that choice when the negative thoughts come to do something distracting. It takes time and practise.

A quotation that I have found helpful this week is: ‘Failure is an event, not a person. Yesterday ended last night.’ (Zig Ziglar) It has been helpful to separate myself from the process and to acknowledge that event was in the past. Today is a new day, with new opportunities and challenges.