How and Why
I’m invited to share gossip but politely decline. I notice I’ve been undercharged at the register and alert the cashier to the mistake. I find a lost dog and try to track down its owner. Am I looking for a medal?Nope. In fact, I don’t care much about recognition. But I do like how I feel when I act honorably. Better than that, I like understanding the motives behind my actions. And it isn’t to score points for Judgment Day; nor is it to repent wrongdoings. I’m playing nice in the sandbox because I’m emotionally balanced. I have the peace and foresight that comes with self-worth and sense of purpose, and I want to keep it. Back in the Day
Had it only been this way from the start! Had I just learned as a boy to appreciate the harmony that comes with self-sacrifice. Oh no, that would’ve been far too simple. For most of my life I viewed doing the right thing as an annoyance, like putting the twisty tie back on the loaf of bread or re-setting the clock after daylight savings. If I performed some act of kindness or morality, you could bet it was rooted in self-interest: I offered you the bigger piece of cake so you’d either applaud my generosity or fail to detect my greed. I alerted the boss to my mistake so I couldn’t be accused of covering it up. I helped you move so you’d owe me when I needed a favor. Righteous acts driven by thinly-veiled egotism: The New Face of Philanthropy. Actions Have Consequences
When you look at my backdoor benevolence, it probably comes as no surprise that I rarely took any satisfaction from it. When my random, misguided gestures went unnoticed, I fumed. And even when I received praise, I didn’t stay happy for long. Almost instantly, I craved fresh validation. Lingering emptiness drove me to wonder, Why do people make so much fuss over a seemingly pointless exercise? Maybe it makes the Boy Scouts tingle with glee, but it sure isn’t making any difference in my life. Alas, what a splendid martyr I made! Rarely has humanity witnessed such a stunning display of apathetic passive aggression. Turning Point
Nobody as, um, “confused” as I was wakes up one morning starving for self-improvement. No, change of that magnitude is usually prompted by pain so intense that water-boarding looks like fun. For me, addiction, physical torture, and shattered self-esteem forced me to look inside. Others are brought to their knees by divorce, job loss, incarceration, loneliness, or countless other traumas. Regardless of why, we’re forced to investigate the scariest space in the Universe-simply to understand why our behaviors and values are at war.For so many of us, this is a long, complex trip, one far too personal and diverse to summarize in a blog. I will, however, say that my hat’s off to anyone who starts down this road; real self-improvement takes guts. Replacing anger, guilt, and confusion with love, compassion, and generosity is grueling. But for those who see the journey through, the effect is often euphoric-a thousand times better than any drink or pill on the market. Awakening
Have you ever done something particularly nice for someone, or for the world, in general, and not told a soul about it? Ever acted without the least want of thanks? This expression of goodwill often infuses the performer with enormous gratitude and sense of purpose, for at that moment-however fleeting it may be-all egotistical limitations are left behind. We’re operating on a Higher Sphere: appreciating the opportunity to enhance life and understanding why we’re part of it.Now if the peace that engulfs these moments proved to be the ultimate goal, that for me would justify the pain of self-discovery. But wait, there’s more! An inexplicable confidence also emerges, an enduring sense of equality with others. We no longer teeter precariously on other people’s praise and condemnation of us; rather, we rest solidly on our commitment to introspection and human kindness. We control our own self-worth. And all at once the idea of quietly toting the neighbors’ garbage can to the curb makes sense…