Saturday, January 5, 2019

stuff on zen, rejection, Dweck


              There is a post that I have not been able to get to, which includes much of the research that I have been working for dissertation.  If you know me, you will know that I am prone to derailment and tangential thinking.  I realized that this is a habit I will have to curtail, or at least manage, for the Action Research project I am intending for dissertation.   I have a preternatural gift for distraction, discipline is not my strong suit.  But, all of this writing helps, and it allows me to get my focus back to where it needs to be.  Much of this writing is about what consumes me during the week, which is research, parenting, conversations with my friends, and the counseling work that I do which is less frequent than I would like.  I was talking to a friend yesterday, who had a relationship end abruptly.  I had recognized in him an orientation toward growth already in the early days of the event. 
              All year I have been obsessed with the idea of the journey.  I have been on quite a journey for the last 4 years.  I have often mistaken the journey for other journeys.  Almost every friendship I’ve developed recently and all of those immediately present have this certain and relatively prominent feature of self-discovery, revelation, rebirth, etc.  I suspect that this impression is part of two things—my own innate personality features which manifest in a bad habit of conflating other’s stories with my own.  I wish to emphasize that, this type of journaling can have the effect of sounding pompous and egotistic—everyone is on a journey, we always are.  A few of my personality traits of openness, gregariousness, and extroversion too easily lead me to outlandish exuberance at times.  But, there is a counterpoint that intersects here—age.  I just happen to be in a space where many people are sharing midlife transitions and some of them are massive—love, death, loss, parenting, divorce, precisely the type of events that necessitate self-discovery, revelation, rebirth.
              Personality theory is less in vogue these days—especially the psychoanalytic developmental type that Erikson laid out that conceived of personality encompassing the lifespan.   I suppose I could go back and read this, and it would place everything I am trying to say in language from the 1950s.  But, I have little time for that, and I suspect that it is much more ego gratifying to believe that I have stumbled on one of the hidden mysteries of the universe, or at least social psychology, through my own intuition.  And at least I have the source material to go back to.  One of the blessings of being in psychology, as opposed to say history, is that it is a relatively recent institution.  I don’t have to go far in time to read the foundational texts. 
              Presence to this awareness that many close to me are dealing with huge transitions requires acknowledgement that the antecedents are often massive amount of suffering and trauma.  I worry constantly about the supports and resources others have, because I simply do not see them present in the healthcare system, our social fabric is frayed, the village it takes to raise a child is not well supported.  I worry constantly that we are missing something huge, or something huge is about to happen.  I am no longer able to discern if society is hurtling toward something awful, or whether we are just in a transformational moment.  The news is despair, I avoid a lot of it, never thinking I was going to become that person.  Yet, I go out and live and I am heartened by the level of community activity and engagement that I see.  I spoke to a friend the other day with a deep trauma history, and I went straight to my soapbox that the behavioral health system is failing everyone badly—that we are not treating despair, addiction, or trauma well at all.  And then I watch a video like Healing Neen, and I am floored at what is possible. And, not only that—what is possible in one human being.
              I was in dialogue with several friends over the past few days regarding this documentary.  It’s available on YouTube and its worth 50 minutes of the viewing time.  A few people whom I have discussed the video with, have been likewise baffled at the capacity for resilience displayed.  My Mother asked me what do you think it is about her?  It’s multiple things, I am certain of that—timing, encountering specific people at the right time, vulnerability, and mindset.  That last one is something that I am harping on this week.  I confess that I am having a bit of an intellectual love affair with Carol Dweck’s work for the past three weeks.  I think that I have about 7 friends, one client, and multiple family members reading it.  It is also quite possible that they are just saying this to pacify my evangelism. I am very aware that this could be one of those things that is way more relevant in my own mind, the same way that my McSweeney’s writings, repeatedly fated to rejection, seem brilliant and hilarious the moment I send off to the editor.
              So Carol Dweck’s work is pretty incredible, and I have been struggling to find how it fits into the model that I am working on for dissertation.  I have several research papers that I am working through at the moment.  If you are familiar with the Fox and Hedgehog story popularized in Isaiah Berlin’s essay, you will recognize Carol Dweck as a classic Hedgehog style thinker—like Foucault.  This style of thought sees a fundamental pattern or idea present, in a way that comes to feel so abundantly present that it seems almost a given constituent of reality.  For Foucault it was the idea that knowledge equates to power, and that insiders of the power structure use this power to suppress and marginalize others.  For Dweck the overarching theme is that mindsets can generally be reduced to either fixed or growth orientations.  She applies this relentlessly to multiple areas in education and psychology, and has the science to support her arguments. 
              I was speaking to another friend this week, and she asked what I thought about narrative therapy.  I told her that I thought that it is a very effective method for PTSD treatment, but that it needed to be coupled with other methods.  Fortunately, this friend also happens to be a brilliant writer and versed in deconstructionist literature, which I tend to avoid because my head starts to hurt when I try to translate too much of a language only tenuously grasped.  Dissertation has also pushed me into this area, and it got me to thinking that Carol Dweck might have some deconstructionist qualities in her work that are worth further consideration.  If you have read other posts of mine, I have repeatedly and probably obnoxiously insisted that something was terribly wrong with our behavioral health system.  It leaves me with that gnawing feeling that we are missing something huge.  Again, I insist that we are not treating trauma, addiction, and despair well, if it all. 
              After the conversation with my friend, I remarked that whole edifice of psychology is ripe for deconstruction.  My opinion is born of a combination of massive dissatisfaction after working in this system for 20 years, and the hope that positive psychology may bring more balance to our present condition.  The two Carol Dweck articles that I have been reading are on personality, one in particular deals with self-definition and entity versus incremental orientations.  In her popular work Mindset, she uses the language fixed versus growth.  Essentially, the dichotomy is how you view a given capacity—can it be developed versus whether it is fixed and determinative? Entity and incremental theorists respond to a given problem differently.
               I use “given” because it is my belief that we all have elements of fixed and growth mindsets.  I suspect that it is more of continuum, some people are highly prone to fixed mindset thinking, Dweck repeatedly references John McEnroe and his endless capacity to externalize blame and emotional dysregulate into public tantrums.  I also think that “given” is appropriate because some problems are so enormous that we end up in positions that force us to fixed mindsets. The important point that I want to note from her work on personality is that some of the things that we might typically assume as personality, and therefore fixed, may in fact be malleable.  Think for a moment about values, attitudes, beliefs, temperament, preferences, dispositions, and traits and how much of these things we intuitively just label as personality in our common every day experience. 
              Dweck argues that we may have underestimated how much of our so called immutable personality traits are open to development.  My own research area in positive psychology also suggests this.  Hope, Optimism, Resiliency, and Self-Efficacy are all now considered to operate on a continuum as opposed to fixed traits.  They are regarded as states and therefore open to development.  Certainly, some individuals have innate tendencies toward optimism and hope, but that does not mean that hope and optimism are not developable within each of us.  A lot of the research that I have accumulated is related to the workplace; what I described is demonstrably evident to anyone who was generally an optimist who ended up in a department with poor morale.  Personality is the interplay of tendencies and context.
              The second article is more complicated and deals with a more specific aspect of selfhood, self-definition.  The context of the article is rejection and how self-definition shifts depending upon entity (fixed) versus incremental (growth) orientations.  In an effort to find humor in what is otherwise a shitty circumstance, I will use my recent efforts at publication in McSweeney’s.  I am on my third rejection.  If I was dating in a fixed mindset I would go to another bar, and blame this bar for it’s crappy music, and tell myself that the women there were garbage, never once considering that it might be my approach.  See—if I never question my own approach, I never open to the opportunity to learn and refine this approach.  And since I am purely joking in this example above, it is entirely narcissistic—the real tragedy is that I never bother to learn what the women can teach me about life because I’ve only relentlessly pursued my own need.
              One of the great revelations in this article was that fixed and growth mindsets reveal that we make certain interpretations of the world, and through our behavioral responses may end up impeding our growth.  Individuals with a fixed mindset were observed to changed self-definition even on relevant traits.  I will spare you all of the cognitive mechanisms that this runs through (you can pm me if you are really interested in knowing).  This struck me as counter intuitive and worth sharing.  I think the ultimate takeaway for me is that we all have fixed and growth mindsets within us.  This is also consistent with Albert Bandura’s beliefs on self-efficacy.  I had always assumed that when I got something wrong about the world around me, the appropriate response was “crap, what did I do wrong?” better change myself in orientation to the world, as opposed to “well, that sucks, maybe I did the best I could and the world happened to me.”  This seems so transparently obvious, but I can assure you that it takes practice to place yourself in the latter mindset. I am sure that I fail that task multiple times a day.
              What specifically impedes us?  At this moment I am inclined to say that it is often emotions and ego (I am using ego in the Buddhist sense, not Freudian).    Dweck does not follow this thread, but does identify behavior that reflective of fixed mindset in the area of self-definition.  The following behaviors are reflective of fixed mindset and rejection:  a) lingering negative affect b) expecting and guarding against future rejection c) goal oriented to suppression d) less likely to see opportunity for growth and acceptance.  So, as promised, I will use myself as an example with regard to my persistent efforts to convince McSweeney’s of my comic genius.  Why? I can joke about this, and it does not hurt, because my self-definition is not contingent on publication in McSweeney’s.  I can honestly care less, because I am having fun, my writing gets better, and I generate new ideas because of it. 
              I have achieved a.  I am not saying that there is no lingering affect when I receive the rejection email—it’s actually kind of nice that this outfit responds personally to your submission.  I am not sure I am fully there on b, I do anticipate future rejection, the difference is that I really don’t care.  I am also not guarding against—I have this gut feeling that it may happen eventually if I choose to keep submitting. On c, I am not engaging in the mental dialogue of suppression where I tell myself that they did not appreciate my comic genius, or that their publication is garbage and something not worth pursuing, or that I am just not cut out for it.  This could reach comic proportions if I denied that McSweeney’s ever existed or that I had ever submitted anything at all.  I could insist that this was fake news and that they were part of the disgusting media and I would protect my fragile ego.  But then I would never come up with a hilarious idea like the Pope writing a series of yelp reviews for restaurants in the Vatican.
              Instead I am solidly in the inverse terrain of d.  I can assure you that I am happier.  It’s much more satisfying to have thoughts like “ok, assholes I am sending you my fourth effort and opportunity for rejection by week’s end.”  I often reference Zen in these blog posts, and that is because it has had a remarkably transformative effect on me.  It is inextricably tied to everything I have experienced and learned this year, and I still know nothing about it.  I know nothing of comedy either, because like love, life, anything that involves learning is through process and praxis.  I only know that I have made others laugh.  I know that I laugh.  I know that I have made unkind jokes I regret because they have hurt others.  I know that I have had some success with standup.  I will probably try it again, and may even extend myself by trying improv (the actual zen of comedy).  See—none of this is self-definitional, it all is.  If I choose to identify too strongly with any one of those, I am in pain or I am identifying too closely with ego.  Everything in Zen comes back to direct experience.  I clearly know nothing of what it takes to be published in McSweeney’s.  I could care less, but I also do.

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