Between A and B

People often refer to their “present situation,” which, generally speaking, represents the sum total of their current circumstances. In other words it describes where they are in the present—right now. Such a concept may easily be labeled as a so-called “Point A.” In contrast, people often speak of the future or of their anticipated “future situation,” which again, simply refers to what their “present situation” will be like at some point in the future. Likewise, such a concept may easily be labeled “Point B.” It follows, in this sense, that every living person is in motion or moving from a given Point A to a given Point B (A → B). They are moving from the present to the future.

But what constitutes this movement? Through what process does a person “move” from a given point to another? At this time, it may be helpful to replace the word “circumstances” with the word “results.” What then, determines a person's results? Choices. Specifically choices and actions, the individual initiative and volition of a person. If someone is at Point A and desires to get to a given Point B, the defining factor of their “movement” from A to B can be none other than their individual choices and actions. It is because a person's choices and actions produce results that they can either bring them closer to or further from their desired destination (Point B).

It is obvious that a person's Point A must be different from their Point B. If it were not, if the circumstances which constituted A and B were identical, then no choices or actions would be necessary to “move” a person from one point to another. Indeed, strictly speaking, no “movement” would be needed. But few people, if any, can claim such a blissful state of existence. By definition, we all desire to better our circumstances to the extent possible. To be sure, whether we acknowledge it or not, we are all moving from the present to the future; we are all moving from a given Point A to a given Point B in the sense that our choices and actions today will largely determine the point we find ourselves at tomorrow. It is because of this, that the importance of defining our so-called “Point B” cannot be overstated.

Consider, for instance, a cargo ship leaving port. Without a defined destination (Point B) the ships captain would be powerless to get anywhere—except, of course, by chance. Why? Without something to direct his actions toward, the ships captain would be unable to rationally make any decision whatsoever. In other words, by knowing the ships end or destination, the captain is able to choose the actions necessary to reach that point. In the same way, without a defined destination (Point B) a person becomes unable to choose or act effectively, and as a consequence, cannot “get anywhere” except by chance. Thus, we can conclude that it is nothing less than the goals, dreams and aspirations of a person (provided they have been defined in detail), which ultimately direct their life.

Have you explicitly defined your goals and dreams? If not, what rational basis do you have to guide your decisions and actions?

The Critical Finger

I was recently reminded of a past student of mine who would regularly object to various things I taught. The grounds of his objections were as follows: Everything you teach is very simple and easy to understand and doesn't contradict the general experiences of a person. In fact you normally cite life experiences that most people can relate to as evidence of that which you teach. But because of this, the things you teach are basically things that people already know. Therefore, because the things you teach are already known to a person, they cannot possibly be valuable to them.

This reasoning is actually quite hilarious, because it seems to imply that the only person who could potentially learn anything from what I write is the person who is isn't intelligent enough to have learned these things on their own. Thus, if you have learned anything at all from this blog, my student would no doubt label you as one example of such a person.

Still, I believe the student's argument to be naïve at best. My appeal to a person's “general life experience” is, in many ways, a concrete method of relating to them. It definitely helps the reader/student to better grasp whatever it is that I'm talking about. But it does not follow that, because I have appealed to the life experience of a person, and then proceeded to make a connection or observation on the basis of that experience, that the person will have already made that same connection or observation prior to my relating it to them.

As an example, consider the concept of fear. Nearly everyone can perform some action which they were once (but no longer) afraid to do. To borrow from the previous post, during “driver's ed” many people are afraid to drive a car on the road amongst other automobiles, especially if they have no experience driving things. Yet after years of having their drivers license and operating a vehicle, they display no fear whatsoever when driving. Such is an example that many people relate to. But many have not made the connection that in order to overcome a fear, they must do that which they are afraid to do, and when they do that, they expand their comfort zone, and their fear begins to subside. Such an observation is, for many people, a kind of revelation or epiphany which enables them to better face and overcome fears throughout their life, and if that is in fact the case, surely they wouldn't accuse me of “teaching them something they already knew.”

On the other hand, perhaps the said student—albeit at the midpoint of his teenage years—had already figured out everything worth knowing.

A Common Mistake

If you are sixteen or older, the odds of you having your drivers license are fairly good. In order to acquire this license you had to complete/pass a state-approved “drivers ed” program, which consisted of a combination of driving and class work, for the duration of approximately two to three weeks. After completing this first segment, you were given a driving permit which enabled you to “practice driving” with a parent or legal guardian for a specific period of time. Later on, you entered the next segment for some additional class work and, after that was complete, were able to take your “road test,” which, if passed, approved you to get your official drivers license. Again, if you have a drivers license, chances are you went through this process or one very similar to it.

The class work we did during our “drivers ed” program can be referred to as the “intellectual understanding” of the subject of driving. In it we learned the rules or “laws” of driving an automobile. We learned about various traffic signals, signs, speed limits, etc. We learned the theory of how-to-drive a car and at this point, our understanding was purely intellectual.

But class work wasn't all we did. Eventually, we were able to get behind the steering wheel and, along with other students and a driving instructor, drive down the road amidst other automobiles. This process of actually driving a car can be referred to as the “functional understanding” of the subject of driving. Functional understanding is essentially understanding something by doing or applying what we know intellectually. Though we understood how to drive a car (in the intellectual sense), we didn't fully understand it until we actually did it and became proficient at doing it (which took a considerable amount of time and effort).

As discussed in the Introduction, the ability to fully understand a given subject is dependent upon two distinct forms of understanding: intellectual and functional. Both are necessary to fully understand almost anything. One of the most common mistakes in the area of personal growth is assuming we understand something, when in reality we only understand it intellectually. But it is only after we take the time and put forth the effort to functionally apply what we intellectually know, that we can truly understand our potential and grow personally.

How God Fits In, Part 3

This is the third post in a series, the topic of which is “how God fits in” with the content of The Catalyst of Confidence. If you have not read the first and second posts, or the introductory post, I encourage you to do so before continuing.

Up to this point we have discussed some of the more positive aspects of The Catalyst of Confidence as they relate to God. In this post, however, I would like to introduce a somewhat sinister topic to our discourse. Namely, sin. Most every major religion has an understanding of the concept of sin, but for the purpose of this post, we will define sin as simply wrong action. That is, action contrary to the ultimate good of a person. (I realize that this definition is, in many ways, a simplification. While it is true that the concept of sin entails much more than what has been said, a more generalized definition is necessary to fulfill our purpose in this post. After all, we will not be discussing how sin relates to God, but rather, how the concept of sin “fits in” with the content of The Catalyst of Confidence.)

In my opinion the most profound lesson in the book is Lesson VIII: Self-Deception and Learning. It's implications are seemingly limitless and inexhaustible. Self-deception is a concept that no person can honestly “close the book” on, as it is an inherent condition of humanity and must be guarded against at all times with vigilance and determination. The concept of self-deception is defined in two parts. First, as the betrayal of one's ultimate self-interest. Second, as the betrayal of one's true potential. To satisfy the objective of this post, we will concern ourselves with the former definition.

One will quickly notice that the definition “betrayal of one's ultimate self-interest” can easily be used as a definition of sin itself. If we define sin as wrong action or action which is contrary to the ultimate good of a person, we can see very plainly that this is a form of self-deception. In order to betray our ultimate self-interest, we must act contrary to it. In other words, though we may perceive a given action to be right and good, in reality it may not be good for us at all. Hence, the crux of self-deception being “the act of deceiving oneself.”

I would like to propose that sin itself is a course of action that we perceive as being good or necessary (perhaps in the moments we sin?), when in reality such action is neither good nor necessary. Sin, like all wrong action, is something that is damaging to oneself, even though it may not be immediately apparent. Many of those outside the realm of organized religion view the concept of sin as something which God arbitrarily mandates, and that when a person “sins” they are simply disobeying one of God's capricious “rules.” But such conclusions are erroneous because they ignore the fact that sin (irrespective of any supernatural consequences) is detrimental to the individual—as well as those affected by their actions—in this life, here and now. All actions have consequences—some immediate—some forthcoming, and if a person believes that sinful actions are right and good they are simply deceiving themselves.

It is also worth noting that many of the lessons contained in The Catalyst of Confidence may properly be utilized to avoid sinful actions.

A Quick Observation

Over time I have observed that my own emotions seem to radically affect my initial perception of problems or situations. For instance, upon being faced with a new problem or unexpected situation, I am often inundated with emotions which seem to artificially inflate my perception of the gravity of the problem or situation. In other words, because my initial response may be emotional (perhaps no one else would know this because I tend to be more introverted when it comes to my emotions), I tend to immediately anticipate that the problem or situation is much more terrible than it actually is, and after some time has passed (which can range from a few hours to a few days) and my emotions have subsided, I realize that the problem or situation is not nearly the threat which I had initially perceived it to be, and that my initial emotional upsets were unwarranted.

None of this should be a huge surprise to those who carefully study their emotions and their volitional responses to them. However, this observation seems to suggest that it would be better to suspend emotional actions and judgments until the initial “rush” of emotion has subsided. With such raw emotions behind us, we are better able to discern appropriate actions and responses, and developing the habit of doing just that would be no doubt greatly beneficial.

Failure and the Evaluation of Self

The concept of “disassociating” oneself from one's failures is mentioned in Lesson VII: Failure and Adversity. However, it is not discussed directly and as a result many readers may have been left with questions. Hence, I will briefly discuss it in this post.

To begin with, the value of a person is not dependent on the results produced by their actions. While we often evaluate people on the basis of their actions, it does not follow that the inherent value or potential of a person, is somehow contingent upon the performance of their past actions. In other words, if someone has a track record of absolute failure, it does not follow that it is impossible for them to change and succeed.

As a society, we indirectly learn to associate ourselves with our failures. If we fail, we interpret it as a kind of value-judgment on ourselves. Poor performance bowling (say), for example, could result in our concluding that we can't bowl, and if we can string together enough such conclusions, we can eventually interpret this as a generalized value-statement about our very selves. This is incorrect. To reemphasize: the value or potential of a person cannot be dependent upon past results, because if it were, it would be impossible for any person to change. Those who are successful would be incapable of failure while those who fail would be incapable of success—an absurdity on both accounts.

To disassociate oneself from one's failures essentially means to not allow one's failures to define who-one-is. As mentioned in the lesson, there is an enormous difference between the perceptions “I failed,” and “I am a failure.” The former emphasizes an event or experience, whereas the latter emphasizes a definitive value-judgment on one's person. While the perception “I failed” reveals an action disassociated from one's self-evaluation, the perception “I am a failure” places a negative value on oneself. People fail, all the time. But to conclude that such failures are evidence that one cannot succeed in a given endeavor is illusory.

Now, one may object, saying that disassociating oneself from one's failures enables a person to avoid responsibility for their actions or failures. But this is simply not true. To disassociate oneself from one's failures does not mean to somehow deny one's role in the action which produced the failure. Nor does it encourage a person to avoid feelings of remorse or dissatisfaction with their behavior. On the contrary, disassociating oneself from one's failures requires a person to fully acknowledge their role in the failure, but simultaneously seeks to forgo requiring a person to measure their intrinsic value or potential on the basis of it. Feelings of remorse or dissatisfaction are right and proper, as they can help a person identify problems as well as help strengthen their resolve to change and improve.

What if Roger Bannister had associated his inherent value or potential with his performance prior to accomplishing the four minute mile? (See Lesson XII: Possibility and Impossibility.) There are many benefits to disassociating oneself from one's failures, but the short answer is that it enables a person to continue working toward a desired goal or dream.