A Joke…

There’s a joke I’d heard in medical school that goes something like this…

A deeply religious man falls overboard from a ship. Unnoticed by the crew as the boat sails away, the man grows frightened.

Treading water, realizing that any hope is rapidly dwindling, he cries out to God,

“I have been a good person throughout my life. I have prayed. I have volunteered countless hours. In my time of need, please help me!”

A small boat sails by. Its occupant yells, “Hey there, let me help you!” The man replies, “No, I’ve asked God for help. He will help me.” Puzzled, the boatman leaves.

A helicopter flies overhead. Its pilot yells, “Hey there, let me help you!” Again, the man says, “No, I’ve asked God for help. He will help me.” The pilot shrugs and flies away.

A dolphin swims by, offering a fin to grab onto. Again, the man says, “No – I’ve asked God for help. He will help me.” The dolphin disappears into the deep.

And so, of course, the man drowns.

At the pearly gates, he asks God,

“Why did you not save me? I have been so deeply pious. I ask of you one thing, but you deny me?”

God replies, “Look, I sent you a boat, a helicopter, and a dolphin. What more do you want?”

The joke highlights the man’s pride of being religious (rather than actually being religious) becoming a block to accepting help.

The joke appears absurd, but a similar issue can appear in ourselves in many ways.

Shame of the Tool

“I shouldn’t have to need this…”

Those with ADHD and other wandering minds, for example, can easily fall prey to such patterns in which a clear solution or tool lies before us, but we somehow cannot bring ourselves to use it. Almost particularly when something could work well, a host of feelings and thoughts can come to mind:
– why have I not tried this before?
– what would life have been like had I done this before?
– why do I have to use this when others don’t?
– what is wrong with me that I even have these thoughts at all?
– why can’t I just do the thing?

among other possibilities. The very fact that something helps becomes evidence and indictment of our inabilities, if not a representative of a past that could have been. Our only hope to defend against such feelings of regret, shame, and weakness is to reject the tool.

It is the same pattern that appears when we approach a messy room, suddenly feel overwhelmed by a sense of disorganization throughout our lives, and turn to watching a show instead of cleaning. Rather than begin the work to clear the problem, we reject the feelings themselves.

Unfortunately, attempts to solve this dilemma often come along the lines of “don’t feel that way.” In my experience, telling you not to feel something is largely useless, and resembles more of a kick while you’re down. It’s hard to know why our feelings are how they are to begin with.

But at least we can recognize that we are trying to help ourselves, albeit through stunted attempts, perhaps appealing to some amorphous “strength” or “will” within. So long as we hope for that magical will to appear, we are likely defending against feelings of weakness that have ironically shown in the context of real support.

One solution I often suggest begins with a Visit. Making visits can seem simple, but they are in no way easy.

Beginnings often have pains. Still, they are the vital step to develop a foundational trust with ourself that allows us to move forward. A Visit, almost regardless of what we do beyond, can become a ground through which to begin that growth.

– Kourosh

PS. A Visit can become the very unit of work with which we can conduct our days, often resulting in a much gentler and more reliable method of getting through our days, getting to our days, reducing scatter and more.