Out caroling for Christmas. The cold is biting at your nose and your breath is smoking out in front of you. You didn’t want to come. You are walking up the front steps. Your mother’s hand is a little too firmly gripping yours. As she rings the doorbell of the new neighbor’s she looks down at you and says quickly “Be good.” You all start singing “Santa Claus is coming to town . . . “ for you – choked, holding back the tears trying hard to not be bad.
Don’t do anything embarrassing. Stay off the news. Keep it together. Man up. Fix your face. Make us proud. Be safe. Do well. Good luck.
Better not shout, better not cry, better not pout . . .
The disparity between what a child hears and what they comprehend is significant. While a child may hear their mother instructing them to behave well, the underlying message they perceive (and what is probably intended) is “I am not good.” This leads to a cascade of thoughts: “Mom expects me to behave well,” “I need to act good to please mom,” “By behaving well, I can bring joy to mom,” and “Being good will result in a happy mom.”
Be good for goodness’ sake.
Numerous clients approach me with a strongly ingrained belief that they must excel. They display various forms of tired perfectionism, ambitious impostor syndrome, persistent self-doubt, excessive self-criticism, continuous people-pleasing, and anxious altruism along their extensive path of self-improvement. They firmly believe that their efforts are insufficient. They doubt their worth. They feel they are not good enough.
Santa Claus is coming to town.
They believe that if they are good then they can get ________. Some don’t know even know what to put in that blank exactly, but they sense that they have something missing. Like a child they believe that If they could fix this thing or that thing – become better at this skill or that skill – practice this technique or that technique – regulate this or that – cope with this or that – get this tool or that one – then they would be good. If I could only be, then I could finally get _______. They are in therapy to get fixed to get good so that they can get.
It is easy to get sucked into going along with the client in this endeavor – I mean here is a client that knows what they want and what they need. They are motivated and eager. How great! It’s tempting to just go along – get them good. Why question anyone for wanting to be good to get better?
He knows when you’ve been good or bad
Because it does matter why they are wanting to be good. It is the intention underneath it is their effort that thwarts it. The question they are asking is “What do I get for being good?” They are in it for themselves. Like most things that happen in the therape
utic hour it is a self-conscious and inwardly directed and therefore unproductive change attempt.
Regarding why I find this unproductive and the subtle distinctions between self-awareness and self-consciousness, as well as the effectiveness of modern mental health practices, let’s save these discussions for another time. Moving forward, let’s transition to a more relevant question. By asking this question, it reframes the therapeutic process towards exploring opportunities for meaning, purpose, and fulfillment work and orientates it toward opportunity for meaning, purpose, and fulfillment. It isn’t what can I get for my goodness? It is “What can I do with all of my goodness?”
Allow me some religious imagery — the value of goodness isn’t that it gets you past the pearly gates of heaven into the ever after- it is for you to make heaven here on earth, right now.
If we can see past ourselves and fix upon something that is greater than ourselves then we may be able to pull ourselves up out of the mire and havoc, we have created within ourselves as to encourage growth and goodness.
Paradoxically, our self-improvement stems from our capacity to engage externally. By seeking ways to enhance our surroundings, relationships, and the world, we are not neglecting ourselves; rather, we become part of the world we are striving to better. Conversely, when we solely focus on ourselves, we tend to overlook the world around us.
