SelfAbsorbed.ME : ‘It’s Your Life, We Just Write it Funnier’

As part of my ongoing existential crisis, I’ve taken upon myself to read philosophy and self-help texts along with my usual dose of raunchy historical fiction. So when a friend tossed Loving What Is my way I put it in my ‘to read,’ pile, but not without some hesitation. I knew this was the prodigal book of Byron Katie who created the self help philosophy known as ‘The Work,’ which is routinely made fun of in various sitcoms and dramas.

As a former Six Feet Under junkie, I knew about The Work from when the mother of the family, Ruth, attends one of their workshops in a series of episodes in which she’s especially desperate and deranged. The writers of the show made the whole thing look like a cult and Ruth basically stumps the practitioners with her unique set of problems and fiery negative energy. Since I hold the writers of Six Feet Under with the highest esteem, I read Byron Katie’s book with extreme skepticism. Yet after 200 pages, I found myself generally won-over by her methods, despite the fact that genius HBO writers laughed at her expense.

What’s great about ‘The Work’ is that it’s 100% about internal change. Byron’s main thesis is that it’s our resistance to accept reality that causes pain. Once we make reality our friend and come to terms with the way things are, we’re able to drop negative thoughts and feelings. This involves what she calls ‘inquiry,’ a process of questioning oneself to prove the things that are bothering you aren’t really bothering you, rather your thoughts about them are bothering you – and our thoughts we can control.

Essentially, it down to would you rather be right or would you rather be happy? I used her method of inquiry as a test on a rather large problem that was bothering me whilst trapped on an especially long train ride (her process involves writing everything down) and found it worked. The problem persisted but stopped bothering me as I had dropped my feelings about it. Some would argue I’d just become a passive nitwit. Byron would argue that if you’re fighting with a situation you can’t or aren’t willing to change, you’re always going to lose.

The overall point here is that in this general philosophical study I’ve been putting myself through, I started to notice this internal monologue of meanness I had going on…pretty much all the time. That’s why I was thrilled when in the FAQ question at the end of Byron’s book, someone had asked the equivalent of “what if I have so many negative and judgmental thoughts a day that there’s no way I could possibly do ‘The Work’ on all the of them.”

Uh-huh. Yeah. That’s my question too.

Byron’s response was to just be aware of all these thoughts, recognizing them as negative, and not taking them so seriously.

I don’t know if it’s New York, the fact that we’re all rushing, or that out unwieldy minds just move too fast (jumping to the wrong conclusions and terrorizing our thoughts) or if I’m just innately evil, but I find so often my inner monologue goes something like:

Wow, that guy’s dog is ugly. Gross. Look at its slobber. Gross!!! Lock that thing up. Throw away the key. Far away. Why is she wearing those shoes? Does she think she’s cool? She’s delusional. I had it when people fidget in the elevator. Just stop. Why are you moving so slowly? Has your sleeping pill not worn off yet? Or maybe you’re…yes, you do look like you have a gambling addiction. And still live with your mother. OK, go! We all need to f-ing get to work? Don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

And it drones on and on and on, the excerpt above representing less than two seconds of in-brain airtime.

Since I’d never say any of the above out loud, but know we are what we think, my attempt to purify my head so far involves bringing awareness to these thoughts, and then thinking about how hilarious they are, because who am I to judge anyone, plus half of the cruelties I’m insinuating are legit comedy material and laugh-inducing. The result is that I find this vicious inner monologue getting fainter and fainter. The side effect is that I bust out in spontaneous laughter frequently.

Not bad.

Is it the city? Is it us? Is the uncontrollable speed of our modern world? Does anyone else find themselves mean in the mind and perhaps, wanting to be cured?

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