|
|
I’ve so often answered
questions regarding what it means to be psychologically healthy, I thought
I’d already written an essay about it. The most common way the question
is asked is, "Do I need therapy?" I’ve rarely seen descriptions
of psychological health or, at least, any that I thought
bore repeating. (I don’t really like the term, but so far I haven’t thought
of a better one.) It also occurs to me that such a description could be
useful. So I’d like to explore some of the themes that I believe constitute
what it means to be psychologically healthy.
I propose that the essential
constituent of psychological health is a commitment to dialogue.
To dialogue is to engage in "real talk" (Leslie Farber, The
Ways of the Will). To dialogue is to be genuinely present, both to
one’s self and to the other person (Linn, I Am What I Am, vol. 2,
ch. 3). In other words, my psychological health is diminished by the degree
to which dialogue is missing in my relationship with myself and with others.
Commitment to dialogue
means being open. I say this with the proviso that we realize
that our first responsibility is to protect ourselves, which may call for
us to not be open. It’s just that psychologically healthy
people are more likely to be open because they are less likely to see what
others do or say as directed against them. Furthermore,they
are apt to use their communication skills to more accurately discern whether
or not there is a threat at hand and to determine how to deal most effectively
with it.
Being committed to dialoguing
also means being dedicated to not having hidden agendas.
I once had a clinical supervisor who declared not only that therapists
needed to have hidden agendas, but that we all needed to have them. I troubled
over this for a long time before I became convinced that since hidden agendas
are deceitful behavior, they are toxic and disturbing.
Hidden agendas are a form
of mystifying behavior. I often find mystifying descriptions
when I peruse the personal ads. For example, people describe their ages
as "late 20’s", "30’s", "45+" or "middle aged." These are
all efforts to conceal rather than to reveal. Commitment to dialogue means
being dedicated to clarifying and opposed to mystifying.
There are a number of
other very interwoven themes that I consider to be significant constituents
of psychological health:
When I am psychologically
healthy, I am passionate; I typically know what I wantand
that I am free to strive for it. Although I may sometimes hesitate, ultimately
I do not shrink from striving for what I want and I do not vacillate. I
am free to energetically use everything at my disposal to honorably
achieve my goals. I am free to choose whether to strive for something,
what
to
strive for, and how I will strive for it(in contrast,
for example, to letting myself to be victimized by the demands or judgments
of others).
In other words, I
am characteristically directed, with regard to both the "big" picture
(I’m
in college, working towards a degree in anthropology) and the "little"
picture. (I’ve set time aside this afternoon to study for tomorrow’s
test, and I’m making sandwiches so I can study without interruption.)
Furthermore, my directedness is in harmony with my passions
(I
can hardly wait to graduate so I can get to work "doing" anthropology).
I am en route somewhere, working towards what matters to
me: a promotion, to be a more loving father or more competent therapist,
to save enough money to retire, to build a bookcase, to finish eating quickly
so I can get to the theater on time, and so on.
When I am psychologically
healthy, I am committed. I characteristically stand up for
what I value and desire, rather than being either passive or aggressive.
And
I make choices while clearly knowing that nothing is guaranteed—that there
is risk in every decision I make, no matter what I decide, and that, as
Sartre points out, I am "doomed to choose." For just this reason, I
feel pleasure when I achieve what I want.
Being psychologically
healthy doesn't mean that I don’t make mistakes or that no one ever fools
me or takes advantage of me. It does mean that I recognize that
I am the architect of my life and the captain of my ship. If someone has
taken advantage of me, I am able and willing to acknowledge my distress
and to deal with the situation openly, without criticizing, honorably,
and assertively; and I am free to seek help if I need it, or to simply
accept and grieve my loss.
When I am psychologically
healthy, I am committed to taking the very best care of myself.
Rather than being passive or vacillating in the face of others’ self-serving
demands and judgments, I act passionately in my own best interest
as well as in the best interest of those people I am close to. It’s important
to say that acting in my own best interest does not mean acting against
others. I contend, in fact, that when I am truly acting in my own best
interest I am also acting in others’ best interest.
Being psychologically
healthy means that I am flexible (in contrast to being compulsive):
I am free to either change direction or to stay the course when I discover
unexpected obstacles; I am free, as well, to change course when I discover
that my desires have changed.
To the degree that I am
psychologically healthy, I am at home with myself. This means
that I like myself, enjoy my own company, and am not compelled to be with
someone else (nor, for that matter, am I compelled to be alone). It means
that I have a clear sense that specific others can and do like who I am
and can and do appreciate my presence in their lives. It also means that
I see my life as a valuable gift and that I’m glad to be alive, even when
the going is tough.
To the degree that I am
psychologically healthy, I do not criticize. By criticizing
I do not mean an evaluation that I’ve asked for or agreed to (for example
a job evaluation). I mean finding fault, blaming or otherwise attacking
the worth of someone. I recognize that criticizing and blaming are not
natural, inevitable, or effective. When people criticize or blame me, I
recognize that their criticism and blame reflect their own pain, and
do not describe me. I also realize that there may be something in what
they are saying that is important for me to hear. Therefore, rather than
being either passive or aggressive when people criticize me, I typically
try to "decode" their messages by dialoguing with them, in order to effectively
resolve the disturbance.
Psychologically healthy
people recognize that conflict is inevitable. When there is conflict, they
characteristically seek mutually satisfying solutions.
I recognize that being
psychologically healthy does not mean I will never be in pain, e.g., never
hurting, never being sad, never being scared or angry; that not even the
healthiest of lives is devoid of pain. It means that I embrace how
I feel—my distresses as well as my pleasures. I opt to remain aware
of how I feel, rather than attempt to distract or anesthetize myself.
Freud said that the two
most important parts of our lives are love and work.
I think he was very much on target, but that he left out another very important
facet of our lives. Play. Psychological health is characterized
by a typically appropriate, passionate, committed, and balanced involvement
and investment in work, love and play.
With regard to love and
friendship, when I am psychologically healthy, I am adept at being intimate
with others and with myself. I tend to choose and maintain relationships
with people I passionately like and trust; our lives are connected and
I am actively invested in my relationship with them; Their desires and
well-being are as important to me as my own; and I am involved in an ongoing
dialogue with them, seeking closure, and otherwise energetically demonstrating
care.
By contrast, many of us
seem to settle for mates who don’t really fulfill our passions. Consequently,
instead of reaching out lovingly, we may blame the person we’re with for
not being someone we really want, may try to change him or her into the
ideal mate we think would please us—all the while despairing of ever having
a real connection with that person. We may even seek that seemingly elusive
intimacy elsewhere. Or we may blame and criticize ourselves for
our disturbed situation.
We may settle, as well,
for friends who don’t really satisfy us or who treat us badly. We may maintain
these relationships because we’re afraid of being alone, or simply because
we’re afraid to tell the other person that we no longer value the relationship.
And rather than dialoguing about our dissatisfaction with the relationship,
we may try to change the other person while concealing how we truly feel.
When I am psychologically
healthy, I recognize my kinship to other people, and respect and accept
them as they are. (This extends to other forms of life and to the environment
that supports it.). I value others: I respect them. I accept
them as they are. I support them and make room for them. I recognize that
others often see things differently than I do (different strokes for different
folks) and that this doesn’t make them "wrong" and me "right." (In fact,
I shun falling into the trap of separating things into right and wrong.)
I tend to see others as potential friends, helpers and sources of safety,
rather than as threatening opponents, although I am well aware that particular
others might, indeed, threaten and oppose me. I am careful not to
make assumptions about what they do or say, even when it seems
incredibly obvious. Instead of jumping to conclusions, I make a considerable
effort to check things out.
With regard to work, it
seems to me that the measure of my psychological health is my seeking and
choosing work that I am passionate and enthusiastic about, work that I
look forward to and engage in willingly and zestfully.
It seems to me, though,
that most of us are living a psychologically unhealthy life when it comes
to work. This is indicated by the banality of such expressions as "It’s
only a job," "It’s Hump Day," and "Thank God,
It’s Friday" (there’s even a large restaurant chain with this name).
These expressions suggest that a great number of us are doing work that
we don’t enjoy and that we can’t wait until our work week is over. Similarly,
I often see people feeling great relief when they have the opportunity
to do something other than their usual job (e.g., in attending a training
session; they are relieved, not because they hope to learn how to do their
jobs better, but because they expect that it will, for a short while, provide
a respite from their work.)
Psychologically healthy
people play on a regular basis. Genuine play
involves letting go of my everyday life and giving myself over to something
pleasurable that has no direct connection to my work or love. Play is something
I do for its own sake, rather than because "it’s good for me" or because
I am trying to distract myself from life’s difficulties. I can play by
myself, but play is most often with others. Although there may be other
benefits—for example, I learn new words when I do a crossword puzzle and
get exercise when I sail a boat—play is something I do for no reason other
than I enjoy it.
When we lose balance in
our work or love lives, we may tend to shun play, for fear
that we won’t be able to deal effectively with the disturbing situation
if we don’t stay focussed on it; or we may compulsively play,
in order to distract ourselves from our pain.
When I’m psychologically
healthy, I’m committed to taking care of my body and I view doing so as
a pleasure, rather than a burden. Rather than eating to comfort myself,
I eat what’s good for me and I trust my appetite to inform me about what’s
good for me and what isn’t. I don’t accept the common misperception that
"if it’s good for me, it can’t taste good."
I also value my sleep.
I recognize that it regenerates me and that inadequate sleep will erode
my performance and ultimately result in diminishing returns. Therefore,
I tend to consistently arrange my schedule so that I can get at least eight
hours of uninterrupted sleep each night and can awaken when I’m rested
(rather than by artificial means, such as an alarm clock). I know I am
getting sufficient sleep when I go to bed tired and awaken refreshed. (This
is in contrast to what is undoubtedly more common: I am wide awake when
it is time for bed and tired when it’s time to wake up, a state of affairs
which has made the manufacturers of NoDoz and the various sleep aids very
successful.)
When I am psychologically
healthy, I recognize that my body needs to be kept in tone and, again,
I see doing this as a pleasure, rather than a burden. Towards this end,
I exercise my body in such a way that I keep my heart and other muscles
in tone, without straining myself. This means that I do not operate
with the motto of "no pain, no gain," long a popular injunction,
which calls upon me to struggle against myself.
In summary, psychologically
healthy people are more adept than others at maintaining balance
in their lives. They typically balance work, play and love; sleep and wakefulness;
consumption of calories and exertion, expending and conserving resources,
and so forth.
The various constituents
of psychological health are interrelated. When my esteem is low, I may
want to conceal myself. To do so, I may squelch my passion and hesitate
to dialogue, which is likely to result in my losing my balance. In fact,
I find that whenever I act contrary to my own nature, I tend to lose balance.
(I suggest, too, that it is this acting contrary to my own nature that
potentiates addiction, a process in which all passion is
lost except for the object of addiction (e.g., alcohol, drugs, work, women
as sexual objects).
Although this is an extensive
list, I don’t presume that it exhausts all the themes that constitute psychological
health. I have tried here to provide something of a road map, to suggest
possible directions for exploration. It is not my intent to criticize or
blame. I believe these ideas can instruct us about how healthy we are and
can illuminate a path we can take to remedy our situation. It is a perspective
that has served me well, both personally and professionally. I hope you
find it useful and welcome your comments.
In my view, a low level
of psychological health does not mean you are "broken." Such competencies
can be attained, but not by force of will. Instead, my distress calls for
me to listen carefully to myself and to fully acknowledge who I am. This
involves completing my unfinished "traumatic moments," in order to discover,
realize, and express my heretofore unexpressed pain and pleasure, so that
I can discover what I really want and can begin a much delayed journey.
Ultimately, living in
a way that’s psychologically healthful is both easy and difficult.
It’s like riding a bike: difficult until I get the hang of it, and then,
pretty easy.
©1998
Stephen
E. Linn, Ph.D. • Empowering People
 
|
