05.16.2015 No More Guilt
Some time back, a neighbor and friend confronted me about my pervasive sense of guilt. At the time I had no idea what she meant and said so. She insisted guilt was optional, a choice. “What do you get out of guilt?” she asked. “You must have a reason for hanging on to it.” She struggled to find an explanation I could grasp.
Once the concept that emotions in general were learned responses and therefore within one’s control emerged, I began investigating the root of guilt using logic, language and my own experience.
Noticing that feeling when it happened, retracing that mystery working backwards step by step when it surfaced, I arrived at some basic realizations. I uncovered the heart of guilt.
Regret.
I found it embodied in two words.
Should have.
I maintain you cannot harbor guilt if you erase these two words from your vocabulary.
Since that pointed exchange, I have eliminated those two words in all their incarnations from my vocabulary, and found that my guilt evaporated. And taking one step further, I banned it from any of my interactions. Here’s what I discovered, in four steps.
First, I became aware of how frequently I used those two words in everyday conversations. Simply noticing how accustomed I was to using them brought to my attention the underlying habit of relying on them so heavily.
Next, I listened to how others used those words. Everyone did it. It seemed the phrase peppered all conversation, like watching rain clouds roll in and remarking someone should have rolled up the car windows. When I heard others use them naturally in their everyday vernacular, I realized I didn’t stand out from others because I talked and thought the same way.
Then I experimented getting through the day without uttering those two words. Synonyms came into my head (coulda, shoulda, woulda), and noticed that these words, rather than the source, were actually a symptom of deeply rooted cultural guilt.
Finally, I banned them like swear words, stopping all conversation when they were spoken and announcing, “I don’t ‘do’ shoulda.” Initially people found this approach abrupt, ridiculous, even rude. However even those who professed not to understand learned to exclude them. Whether or not they agreed with me or endorsed my philosophy was immaterial. By far, this was the most dramatic and liberating experience.
A few notes:
Right away, I want to point out that I have no issue with the word “should.” The difference is “should have” pertains to history, which cannot be changed. Whether recognizing a mistake as it unfolds, wishing for a better childhood or regretting words spoken or unspoken (like “I love you”), nothing constructive can be accomplished by reliving the past in this manner. “Should” is a present-tense verb, it does not preface an agonized recollection.
Do I ignore the past? Absolutely not. Just listen: I no longer take out my frustrations on the dogs, behave inappropriately with other women's husbands, or blame others for my own failings.
Hear that? Learning from experience, vowing not to repeat mistakes, dispassionately observing one’s history takes the judgment out of it and leaves the lesson. That’s hot, don’t touch it.
Sometimes I voice my aversion in a more light-hearted manner. When I hear it, I counter with, “I ‘shoulda’ picked six different (lottery) numbers.” Or, “I ‘shoulda’ been born rich instead of good-looking.” Neither option was ever available anyway, which renders “shoulda” meaningless in addition to futile in these examples.
By the way, “shouldn’t have” is the ugly twin of “should have.”
During the third and fourth phases my radar picked up on even tacit phrases evoking the “should have”. Like “Why didn’t you…(because you should have…).” Or “I told you so! (You should have though/done something else.)” I could almost picture an interrogator accusing their target, or a menacing schoolmarm scolding, wagging her finger under the nose of her hapless charge.
Early on, the conscious avoidance of those words and their relatives often left me speechless in response to a query or comment until a new way of thinking evolved. Once I excised “shoulda” from my vocabulary, my responses to questions and comments went like this: “Next time,...” Or “In the future,...” Or “From now on,...” And “This will never happen again.” Or the favorite “I’m never doing that again!”
***
Today I am free of regret. Sometimes this fact brings out resentfulness. I notice that, as my neighbor accurately surmised, some folks don’t understand that guilt is optional, that it can be eradicated, and that they can relieve themselves of that burden. In fact, some folks are intimidated by a guilt-free personality, probably because they have no control over a free-thinker.
My thoughts on this topic have only sharpened in intensity. The method took shape rather organically, by first listening and observing myself and others, which showed me next what needed to change in myself and others. We really are defined by language, I believe. Buoyed by my success with this method, I have questioned other assumptions about my existence which I intend to explore in other posts.
Thanks to Susan Sanchez for asking the question that finally challenged me to put this down in print. Thanks also to Deanne Gribble who said “I just don’t understand you!” To which I responded “That’s right, and don’t you forget it!” And finally, special thanks to Mary Suzanne Kuhl, the long-ago friend who pose the question that started this journey.
Some time back, a neighbor and friend confronted me about my pervasive sense of guilt. At the time I had no idea what she meant and said so. She insisted guilt was optional, a choice. “What do you get out of guilt?” she asked. “You must have a reason for hanging on to it.” She struggled to find an explanation I could grasp.
Once the concept that emotions in general were learned responses and therefore within one’s control emerged, I began investigating the root of guilt using logic, language and my own experience.
Noticing that feeling when it happened, retracing that mystery working backwards step by step when it surfaced, I arrived at some basic realizations. I uncovered the heart of guilt.
Regret.
I found it embodied in two words.
Should have.
I maintain you cannot harbor guilt if you erase these two words from your vocabulary.
Since that pointed exchange, I have eliminated those two words in all their incarnations from my vocabulary, and found that my guilt evaporated. And taking one step further, I banned it from any of my interactions. Here’s what I discovered, in four steps.
First, I became aware of how frequently I used those two words in everyday conversations. Simply noticing how accustomed I was to using them brought to my attention the underlying habit of relying on them so heavily.
Next, I listened to how others used those words. Everyone did it. It seemed the phrase peppered all conversation, like watching rain clouds roll in and remarking someone should have rolled up the car windows. When I heard others use them naturally in their everyday vernacular, I realized I didn’t stand out from others because I talked and thought the same way.
Then I experimented getting through the day without uttering those two words. Synonyms came into my head (coulda, shoulda, woulda), and noticed that these words, rather than the source, were actually a symptom of deeply rooted cultural guilt.
Finally, I banned them like swear words, stopping all conversation when they were spoken and announcing, “I don’t ‘do’ shoulda.” Initially people found this approach abrupt, ridiculous, even rude. However even those who professed not to understand learned to exclude them. Whether or not they agreed with me or endorsed my philosophy was immaterial. By far, this was the most dramatic and liberating experience.
A few notes:
Right away, I want to point out that I have no issue with the word “should.” The difference is “should have” pertains to history, which cannot be changed. Whether recognizing a mistake as it unfolds, wishing for a better childhood or regretting words spoken or unspoken (like “I love you”), nothing constructive can be accomplished by reliving the past in this manner. “Should” is a present-tense verb, it does not preface an agonized recollection.
Do I ignore the past? Absolutely not. Just listen: I no longer take out my frustrations on the dogs, behave inappropriately with other women's husbands, or blame others for my own failings.
Hear that? Learning from experience, vowing not to repeat mistakes, dispassionately observing one’s history takes the judgment out of it and leaves the lesson. That’s hot, don’t touch it.
Sometimes I voice my aversion in a more light-hearted manner. When I hear it, I counter with, “I ‘shoulda’ picked six different (lottery) numbers.” Or, “I ‘shoulda’ been born rich instead of good-looking.” Neither option was ever available anyway, which renders “shoulda” meaningless in addition to futile in these examples.
By the way, “shouldn’t have” is the ugly twin of “should have.”
During the third and fourth phases my radar picked up on even tacit phrases evoking the “should have”. Like “Why didn’t you…(because you should have…).” Or “I told you so! (You should have though/done something else.)” I could almost picture an interrogator accusing their target, or a menacing schoolmarm scolding, wagging her finger under the nose of her hapless charge.
Early on, the conscious avoidance of those words and their relatives often left me speechless in response to a query or comment until a new way of thinking evolved. Once I excised “shoulda” from my vocabulary, my responses to questions and comments went like this: “Next time,...” Or “In the future,...” Or “From now on,...” And “This will never happen again.” Or the favorite “I’m never doing that again!”
***
Today I am free of regret. Sometimes this fact brings out resentfulness. I notice that, as my neighbor accurately surmised, some folks don’t understand that guilt is optional, that it can be eradicated, and that they can relieve themselves of that burden. In fact, some folks are intimidated by a guilt-free personality, probably because they have no control over a free-thinker.
My thoughts on this topic have only sharpened in intensity. The method took shape rather organically, by first listening and observing myself and others, which showed me next what needed to change in myself and others. We really are defined by language, I believe. Buoyed by my success with this method, I have questioned other assumptions about my existence which I intend to explore in other posts.
Thanks to Susan Sanchez for asking the question that finally challenged me to put this down in print. Thanks also to Deanne Gribble who said “I just don’t understand you!” To which I responded “That’s right, and don’t you forget it!” And finally, special thanks to Mary Suzanne Kuhl, the long-ago friend who pose the question that started this journey.