They say, "Ignorance is bliss." They also say, "Know Thyself."
Well....which is it? You can't have both.
Ignorance of sitations and events -- such as when someone you love takes a risk or if you did without realizing how close you came to danger -- can be blissful. It's often easier to accept loss of control if you're not even aware that you were out of it. But I don't buy the saying when it comes to self-knowledge. You want to stay ignorant, live in a fog? Really? You think that leads to bliss? More often it leads to confusion. You might lash out or self-flagellate and be miserable and not even know why. How sad that sounds. If you were living in misery wouldn't you want to know why you were?
Knowing thyself is a long process often fraught with peril and many people never even get there, but the knowledge you earn when you do isn't even the really tricky part. It's what you do with the knowledge that counts. Making the conscious effort to take the knowing and translate it into action. Making choices based on your authentic self and not the self you wish you were, the one you want others to think you are, or the one you desire to be. Facing what you know is true instead of dodging it.
Some people willingly throw themselves down in the middle between an obstacle and a solution and begin waging a battle royale between the way they think they need to live to be viewed as "right" and the way they know they need to live to be right with themselves. Some people do it because they give too much power to others and are too concerned with how others would view their behavior to allow their authentic self free reign. Others do it because of internal struggles, most of which have their origins in the dynamic duo of pride and shame. Perhaps buried mommy or daddy issues manifest by defining a range of restrictive behaviors that can't be indulged in (even if these would be beneficial in their situation) because their parents exhibited them and pride won't allow them to be "like" their parents. It might simply be a desire to maintain a particular self-image at all costs.
Put in plainest terms, when you behave in a manner consistent with what you know is good for you, you'll feel good as you're doing it. This is true even if you're doing something difficult. If you know that the reasons you're doing it are consistent with your authentic self you'll only rarely wake up in the middle of the night wishing you could be doing something else. You'll rarely walk through your day feeling angry, resentful or stifled. You might feel exhausted, stretched thin, or worried you might not find the strength within you to carry on but you'll rarely feel a deep sense of "not-right" if you're doing it for the right reasons for yourself. You'll take pride in the trial and in the knowing that when it's all over the doing will have sustained you instead of depleted you. You'll feel better having done it.
If you don't, though -- if you're consistently miserable and resentful, if you trudge through your day with lethargy or a sense of hopelessness, your heart a bird fluttering against its cage -- what does that say about the scales you're weighing everything on? If you keep telling yourself that you're doing the right thing but wonder why your mind and your heart don't jump on board waving that banner, then what behavior are you exhibiting?
What's with the martyr complexes? And why do we think it's so noble to be a martyr?
Whether you martyr yourself for others or you martyr yourself to outdated ideas of who you "should" be while blinking rapidly past who you are, the act of martyrdom brings poison to your internal table. At first you might say to yourself that you believe you're doing it out of charity and you don't expect anything from anyone in return. The reality of it is that you feel there's been an exchange made. Since the coin you've delivered is the sacrifice of a portion of your authentic self you expect to see some sort of tangible return, something of equal value from those you gave so much up for. This expectation rarely comes to fruition and it exists even if no one else is ever aware of what you sold.
What, then, is a valuable return? Initially it's appreciation or respect. At first the "thank you's" and the "I know this must be hard for you's" are enough to sustain you. Initially. But at best appreciation from others is a temporary poultice across a wound that never quite heals as long as the effort of acting in a manner inconsistent with deepest needs and emotions remains.
As time goes on more and more must be done to cover the wound. Whatever appreciation you get isn't enough. You start to feel like the world owes you something. You know you gave your coin willingly and it shames you to feel like you do but you expected equal value here! You think that someone else can give it to you and you get frustrated when it doesn't work that way. Of course it doesn't, and you know why? Because the only coin that really DOES matter doesn't come from without. The container you're trying to refill has only one existing source of fuel and that fuel springs from an internal source. It's like replacing gasoline with propane. You can putter along for only so long before you start seizing up.
The best example I can think of is a mother who whines that nothing she's ever done is appreciated. We all know someone like this -- miserable, petty, deeply unhappy, demanding and whiny. No amount of external appreciation is enough to wipe away the internal truth of a life that has been sacrificed for others. It's a gaping hole that can never be filled in. It's like quicksand....
Is it any wonder that martyrdom leads to misery?
((Song: "Starting To Remember" by Duran Duran. Lyrics here:
http://www.mattsmusicpage.com/duranduran/lstarting.htm ))
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