The Double-edged Sword of Why

Do any of the following questions sound familiar:
Why do I keep doing (blank)? 
Why can’t I stop (blank)?
Why can’t I just move on?
Why does (blank) keep happening to me?
Why do I keep hurting myself with (blank)?

We ask why. A lot. I suppose humans are just curious creatures who want to understand everything. Which, in and of itself, isn’t a bad thing. I have been asking myself “why” questions for as long as I can remember. What I have learned is that asking “why” is a double-edged sword.

A little background to put this in context: My whole life I have been a mystery to myself. I suppose it’s just part of being an INFJ* (Meyer’s Briggs Type Indicator - MBTI). I can often read others like a book, but when it comes to myself – I’m illiterate. There are other reasons for which I don’t know myself very well – I won’t go into detail about them, but I will just mention them because they are significant. Having been a victim of molestation, I repressed a majority of my childhood memories – better to lose all memories to hide the few horrifying ones, than remember them all in perfect clarity. Related to that, my body became the enemy – a place that had been victimized, in which I was no longer safe, or comfortable. So I ignored myself. I avoided myself. I distracted myself with “busyness”, dreams of a perfect life/future, and food… lots and lots of food! I punished my body for being damaged, weak and violated. I disconnected from myself physically. I became a mystery to myself.

So when I engaged in – and then couldn’t stop – self-destructive behavior, I naturally asked myself “why.” Why can’t I stop shoving junk food down my gullet like a human garbage disposal? Why can’t I pull my head out of my a$$ and just get my act together already? Why did I do (blank) when I know it’s wrong? The common thread among all these questions is, essentially, “Why am I like this?”

I asked why because I genuinely sought understanding. I wanted to understand myself and why I did what I did. I truly believed that if I could understand why, then I could stop bad behavior or change self-destructive behavior. So I started asking “why.” And I started going to therapy to help me uncover the “whys”. And I started journaling and meditating and praying and talking to others and so on.

All of this was terrifying, and painful, and at times excruciating. Those who have never had the courage to face themselves will never know just how difficult it is to bring light to the darkness we fear and/or try to hide from. Because it does take courage and it does take strength, just not the kind we typically think of. It was difficult, but it was also worth it.

I learned SO much about myself. I DID get understanding and it helped me see the source of so many destructive patterns in my life. The process of asking “why” and turning inward for answers was as healing as it was difficult and I wouldn’t change any of it because of what I learned from it.

But there was a downside. The other edge of the sword.

The “whys” became comfortable. I got good at looking inward. I got comfortable with analyzing my problems and behaviors. So comfortable in fact that whenever anything in life went wrong, I immediately began asking “why;” digging into the tough emotional fodder I was facing and thinking, “well, here we go again! I guess I have a lot more to learn…”

The problem with all of that “asking why,” lies in what I was NOT doing – I wasn’t actually fixing anything.

I thought that asking why would bring understanding and that understanding would bring solutions. But it doesn’t always work that way. Here’s a simple analogy: Let’s say my bedroom is pretty messy and I keep stubbing my toes on things in the dark. I can turn on the light to avoid stepping on hard or sharp-pointed objects. However, the act of turning on the light, while it helps me to avoid obstacles, isn't the same as making my room clean.

For years I developed unhealthy patterns of thinking and behaving – based on faulty beliefs that resulted from traumatic childhood experiences. I needed to understand what happened to me to understand where these unhealthy patterns came from (turning on the light). But in all of my learning/understanding, it never changed my behavior or my actions, because I had spent years repeating and solidifying those unhealthy patterns. I had taken the first step to change, which is to understand, but I got stuck on the first step and never reached the second step, which is to ACT OUT NEW BEHAVIOR (i.e., actually clean my room!).

The trap of asking “why” is that it can feel like you’re doing something, but ultimately it can only take you so far. Seeking or gaining understanding may bring enlightenment, but it doesn’t automatically bring new patterns of thought or action. There have been many times in my life where I was asking why when I already knew the answer and what I really needed, was simply to behave differently; to act instead of to question. Understanding, in and of itself, did not change my behavior. The only thing that can change behavior is changed behavior! 

What’s difficult for me is that I’m a thinker. I like spending time in my head and my initial approach to anything is to think about it first. I know that there are people who are the complete opposite. There are some people who dive in head first and never really stop to think about what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. In many respects, I wish I were more like that. I could do a better job of striving for action rather than getting stuck in “analysis paralysis.” On the other hand, acting without knowing why you’re doing what you’re doing is a little like trying to clean your room in the dark; how will you know when it’s really clean? Sure you might be busy, but you’re not likely accomplishing anything meaningful. In my mind, these are the people who just put their heads down, work hard and get to the end of their life realizing that they just weren’t every happy; never having realized that life could be any other way.

Just in case it doesn’t sound like it – I’m actually advocating for both conditions here: 1) ask why and 2) act. I think it’s crucial to seek understanding, but it’s just as crucial to change behavior. Sometimes I need the understanding in order to see how to change my behavior and sometimes I just need to change my behavior. For example, I may not know why I feel the need to shove burgers, fries and shakes into my pie-hole, but I don’t really need to question “why” I feel those urges when I know that that behavior is not healthy. I can put down the bag of Oreo’s (behavior) without knowing why I felt “triggered” to down a whole bag in one sitting in the first place (the “why”).

The other problem with asking why is that sometimes there are no answers. I’ll never know why the people who hurt me, hurt me. And I don’t need to know. I can still strive for better health – physically and emotionally – without knowing why. I can move forward with hope, happiness and courage without knowing why I went through the sh*t I went through. Because I’m no longer a victim and I don’t need to keep being a victim by “asking why.”

I guess it kind of boils down to this – asking why is good, until it becomes a distraction from action, then it isn’t serving you anymore. Action is good, unless it’s a distraction from knowing why you’re doing what you’re doing, then it isn’t serving you anymore. Ask why, to see what behavior you need to change; or change your behavior and seek the understanding that will give your new behavior direction, meaning and purpose.

For someone like me, asking why can be a double-edged sword, but knowing "why" is half the battle and I’d rather go into battle with a double-edged sword than none at all.


*There is a pretty decent review of what it means to be INFJ here. The “Characteristics” section seems to be pretty accurate for me. 

Fat-Guy-Working-Out-At-The-Gym Troubles

I need to acknowledge something here, right up front – I’m not psychic. Surprise! Okay, just kidding, but really, I need to acknowledge that I have no idea what other people are thinking, or what motivates them, or what their intent might be. It’s important that I point this out now, because of what I want to say. So with that understood, read on…

I went to the gym tonight. When I’m not working out with my trainer, I usually go late (like, 9:30pm/10:00pm-ish) because there are fewer people there and I don’t have to wait for equipment. Which is only mostly true. The actual truth is, fewer people means fewer eyes to watch me as I awkwardly lumber through my workout like a blind walrus. (I know that’s not a thing, but the imagery really sells it, ya know?)

Anyway, there was only one other guy in the “Peak Performance” room (which is like the Crossfit part of the gym) and I’d seen him before, so that wasn’t too bad. I was getting my groove on like an Emperor and the other guy eventually left. I was about halfway through my workout at this point and loving the fact that I had the whole room to myself! Well, that didn’t last very long.

Not long after, a guy came in that I didn’t know, but I had just seen him playing volleyball with a bunch of other people on the indoor courts. He stood out to me because he was wearing a “snug,” bright green tank top and little blue volleyball shorts and “working it,” if you know what I mean. Anyway, he comes in and I did my best to ignore him. Which became increasingly hard to do because he was doing some pretty impressive stuff – twisting medicine ball lunges, speed drills, box jumps, all kinds of weird sit ups, etc. It was pretty obvious that the guy didn’t just look good, but had the goods – like, super athletic. You know what? Good for him.

Whatever.

And now I’m just annoyed.

Not only am I nowhere near his level of conditioning on my best day, I’m totally wearing out because I’m getting to the end of my work out and the stuff I’m doing is barely more movement than the Walking Dead zombies. And yes, I’m man enough to admit that I couldn’t help but steal some glances. Enough to notice that he was looking up every so often to make sure I was noticing how awesome he was. And the whole time I just kept thinking, “yes, snug-tank-top-little-blue-shorts-guy, everyone sees you; everyone can see how athletic and awesome you are; congratulations on how awesome you look and how you can out-perform me on every level; yes, we can all see how impressive you are and how amazing you are at having one foot balanced on a swiss ball, while you’re in a plank position and swinging your leg out to the side which takes an inordinate amount of strength, control and agility; okay, we get it, you’re like, super hot and amazing. Congratulations – to you.”

I was annoyed because one, I would love to have that kind of agility and conditioning – so I was totally jealous, and two, because he was totally showing off and looking up to make sure I was seeing how impressive he was. Cocky little "fitness model" bastard!!

That was about the time I had a realization.

I wasn’t reacting to him based on his behavior – I was reacting to him based on my insecurities.

It dawned on me that I have no idea whether or not he was “showing off.” Is it possible he was? Of course it’s possible! (I mean not everyone wears little blue volleyball shorts to the gym, but then again, he had actually been playing volleyball!!) Is it possible that he wasn’t showing off or that maybe he was doing that workout because that’s just the level that he’s at? Of course it’s possible! That’s my point – I don’t know.

I was jealous. It was easy for me to believe that he was looking down on me, but the reality is, I was looking down on myself. I was the one choosing to believe that he thought he was better than me when he hadn’t done or said anything to indicate that he felt that way. I was the one who was choosing to believe that he was better than me because he was more physically capable than me. I was the one making a comparison. I was the one measuring worth on outward appearances and physical attributes. It made me wonder how I would have acted toward him, had we actually interacted. It made me wonder how often I react to other people that way.

I don’t recall if this is something anyone has studied, so I’ll just make up some stats. I’m guessing, from my own experience, that roughly 80% of the time, I’m not reacting to other people’s behavior, but I’m reacting according to my perception of other people’s behavior. Maybe roughly 20% of the time I’m reacting to their actual behavior, but I don’t have any research to back that up.

Some of the take-aways for me are:
– We only see people at one point in time – I don’t know anything about this guy; maybe he’s worked really hard to get where he is and he’s not showing off, but just enjoying the fact that he’s improved himself, or he really likes challenging himself.

– We don’t really ever know what’s in someone’s head or heart and we shouldn’t treat them like we do.

– Maybe look at my jealousy as a way of identifying goals – maybe I’m jealous because I’d like to be that athletic someday too. (Or wait!! It just occurred to me - maybe I just want to look good in a snug tank top and little blue shorts too?! Hahaha!)

– Be more grateful for where I’m at and what I can do. This one’s hard for me. It’s hard to see someone else at a level that I want to be and yet be okay with where I’m at. But the truth is, I have improved. No, I’m not anywhere near where I want to be, but it is pretty cool that in nine months I’ve gone from deadlifting 35lb kettle bells to 180lbs with a bar and plates.

And lastly,
– I guess I still have some self-esteem work to do!

But I am grateful. I’m grateful that I’m in a place in my life where I can finally see how self-destructive my beliefs and habits have been and that I can see them for what they are. That’s doesn’t automatically translate into instant change, but at least it helps me see what I need to be working on and that’s half the battle right there.

Finally, and I’m sure he’ll never read this, but my apologies to snug-tank-top-little-blue-shorts guy. I’m sorry I accused you of being arrogant and condescending when I don’t know anything about you. It would actually be cool if we could be friends, then maybe I could be inspired by you instead of ostracizing myself.

Just another one of those fat-guy-working-out-at-the-gym troubles!