To Change, Stop Trying

Don Miller mentioned in his recent blog "How to Change a Negative Character Trait" an idea he found years ago in a book about personality types that can seem counter-intuitive for many of us, at least upon first read.

"people don’t change by beating themselves up or condemning themselves. The key, rather, is to simply acknowledge what we are doing and and why, then move on without self judgement. [we should] not even attempt to change."

I am referencing his post for two reasons:

1. I am Catholic, and know a thing or two about guilt and it's influence and power.

2. From personal experience, I believe that idea is dead-on.

We don't change our own negative behavior by berating ourselves or applying efforts to stop. Other religious themes seem to verify this idea. A characteristic idea of Christian thought is the power of "original sin"; we acknowledge that of our own motives and without God's grace, we are irreversibly inclined toward selfishness and evil. The way out is not our own effort, but another who remakes us. Another similar expression of this is from 12-step groups: Step one (one can assume the "foundation" for change) is always acknowledgement of helplessness over the addictive behavior. In fact, 12-step programs seem to communicate this principle more concisely and clearly than many Christian expressions do.

Miller goes on:

"In my own life, this comes in moments when I find myself angry or selfish and I simply say to myself 'Hey, you’re doing that thing where you get jealous.' In other times, I will feel like people don’t like me, I won’t want to go to a party or something and I’ll say to myself 'Hey, you’re doing that thing where you identify as a marginalized person because it makes you feel special.' The trick is to make these simple, objective statements without condemnation or judgment. Awareness is everything. And slowly, these character faults within us begin to change."

I strongly identify with all this. I see the most progress in my own battles with fear of rejection, anger, manipulation, and pretense (that's the short list), when I back off from the white-knuckle grasping and self-judgement, and simply acknowledged the truth. That may be the power of all this: desperate efforts to change and frustrated forehead-slapping incline me to resist the truth about myself. An almost detached and non-judgmental approach enables me to evaluate what's going on with honesty. And honesty about the darkness of our own motives is both rare and frightening. It doesn't just wander in. We need to invite it carefully and thoughtfully.