Tag: martyrs

  • The Placebo Effect

    I sometimes wish I could speak myself out of an unpleasant situation. I don’t mean a negotiation with someone else, I mean literally talk my mind out of noticing reality for what it is. So I often marvel at those that hold on to mantras and affirmations and repeat that to themselves in times of stress, and suddenly feel a sense of calm or composure that descends on them. Affirmations obviously work for many, otherwise there wouldn’t be such a prevalence of it. But there’s an underlying message that I think is more important.

    Here’s the thing about placebos and affirmations that I find interesting. If it was merely the suggestion of recovery that helped us to recover, did we really need to recover from something in the first place? This refers to both physical or psychological imbalance. For example, if I experience palpitations from being unduly stressed about a situation, and I take a lump of sugar to calm down, would I have been able to calm down without that sugar lump? I think the answer is yes. Some would argue that this is not a very good example because sugar water has a reputation of calming panic-stricken subjects. Perhaps they’re right, but does that mean that without that sugar lump the panic-stricken one will not recover except through some form of external physical intervention?

    What if the intervention was not physical in the form of sugar or any other medication, but instead, it was in the form of a reassuring handhold, or a hug, or words of comfort to remind them of what is important and what should be focused on instead? If that causes the palpitations to subside, would it still be necessary, or does it prove that beneath all those interventions we were innately capable of overcoming that stressful situation without losing control to begin with?

    I have no doubt that this is a touchy subject for most. I’ve seen many lash out with spittle from seething anger when their need for emotional comfort was challenged, or their need for supplements or other medicinal sources was doubted. So the underlying issue of the placebo effect is simply this. If placebos work on us, it means that we’re inherently capable of overcoming whatever it is that we’re facing or struggling with, without any affirmations or placebos being needed, because the ability to overcome was already there to begin with. The placebo or affirmation only convinced us to apply it.

    So then I ask myself why it is that we would willingly choose to be dependent when independence is in fact what we mostly desire? I think it’s because behind that need for dependence is a subtle scream that demands that the world recognise our struggle, or our persecution. Persecution isn’t fun if no one marvels at our ability to rise above it. I mean, why do we revel in telling tales of how bad we had it after we’ve overcome it? Why is it that telling the same tales before we’ve overcome it is burdensome to share and repulsive to listen to? When we lack conviction in our self-worth, we pursue distractions that will bolster our offering to the world. The less we see value in ourselves, the more we’ll cry out to the world for recognition or attention. But being pitiful does not suit this purpose, so we become increasingly elaborate and often unconsciously devious in our efforts to present the martyrs in us in a way that appears as heroes instead.

    We’re generally victims by default. Of this I am convinced. Being more than this requires effort and conviction. Effort and conviction is lacking in most because we’re too busy waiting to be recognised and appreciated before we do what needs to be done. Yes, those are horrible generalisations, but the horrible state of the world generally bears it out as truths. In this lies the underlying nagging realisation of why placebos and affirmations (which are pretty much one and the same) are redundant. It sounds like a complex issue, but only because we make it so. The more we believe in ourselves, the less likely we will be to need assistance or catalysts to prompt us to face the next hurdle with decisiveness and courage.

    But, and yes, there is another but…we risk being exactly what we despise when we shore up that self-belief without substance. In other words, when we focus on affirmations rather than true capability, we lose sight of the capability and become dependent on the affirmation. If we focus on the capability, the emphasis of our efforts will be to hone those capabilities in order to be more effective.

    If affirmations stop at the point of being a reminder, rather than a vague reassurance, it’s a helpful tool towards becoming more mindful about what you truly possess as skills and capabilities. Problem is, it mostly becomes a required coping mechanism because we’re simply distracted. Distracted from who we are, what we’re capable of, and appreciating everything we have. When you downplay either of those aspects of being you, you become weak, and therefore dependent on reassurance when in fact decisiveness is all that is needed.

    We feel overwhelmed when our assumptions about reality exceed our assumptions of our self. Reduce the assumptions and focus on the substance, and suddenly the world appears much more conquerable than ever before.

  • The Heroes We Want To Be

    What if I told you I had cancer? Would I suddenly appear bolder and braver than those without it? Or perhaps I lost a loved one, or suffered a traumatic event? Would that suddenly make me easier to understand or relate to? Why is it that we find ourselves compassionate only to those whose troubles we know, but assume that all others are privileged and therefore not in need of our consideration unless earned? It’s exactly this morbidity that drives the mentality of hero worship. We only perceive others as heroes if they have triumphed over a struggle that weighs us down, or achieved a goal against odds similar to our own.

    I can’t recall who said it, but they said it well when they suggested that:

    Each time we create a hero we diminish our own capacity for greatness.

    When we create heroes we create limits. The naïve optimist may see it as setting an aspirational goal, but the realist knows that it sets a limit to what we wish to achieve. It therefore defies logic and reason that one would go through life with the goal of being someone’s hero. There are two critical shortcomings in such an objective. With the first having been explained above, the second is more troubling though because it suggests that the one seeking such a status is shaping their life around the expectations of another.

    I vehemently oppose the belief that we should live our lives with the intention of fulfilling another’s expectations of us. The one that appears to be heroic in such an endeavour is in fact a martyr. Not all martyrs are worthy of celebration. Those that act impulsively out of conviction rather than a consideration for the consequential fame and admiration they may earn are of honourable, maybe even of noble intent. Those that act while consciously aware of the potential fame and good fortune that may follow are attention-seekers and should be spurned. They are the ones that will behave unethically and will lose their moral compass the moment their intended audience is not around to witness their foul ways.

    We are driven more by our ego than we are by sincerity of intent. Those that deny this fact are in fact in denial. So when we set out to be the hero of those around us, be they our significant others, or people whose respect and admiration we court, we must not fool ourselves into believing that such an endeavour is a noble one. Although the benefits may be so, the intent is very firmly grounded in our need for significance, or our need to allay the guilt of those actions that undermine the integrity of the relationship we proclaimed to have had with the one we now wish to serve. Simply stated, when we feel a need to compensate for past failures or betrayals, we willingly sacrifice our rights and liberties in order to repay our debts for previously abusing the rights of others. And to the casual observer, we may appear heroic in the process.

    I think every one of us harbours a desire to be celebrated. The greater the self-loathing, the greater the need for that affirmation and validation. Those that court such attention are often the most troubled. Those that don’t, seek fulfilment of a more substantial kind. But that is the musings of another post altogether. All this keeps nagging at me with one final realisation that many don’t grasp. The difference between rights and expectations. Some will read this and find reason to abdicate their responsibility towards others under the false notion that they refuse to live according to the expectations of others, when in fact the truth is closer to them searching for any reason to abdicate responsibility. Period.

  • Between Martyrdom and Cowardice

    Don’t confuse the actions of a martyr with those of a coward. There are many that profess to be martyrs, but in fact hide behind their fear as cowards by presenting their acts as selfless acts, when in fact it’s nothing more than spinelessness. I know of many that lament their inability to live according to their principles. Who with one breath despise the oppression of society and with the next uphold the repulsive social structures that feed such oppression.

    We profess to uphold religious principles and moral high grounds until we’re faced with the reality of choosing between principles and daddy’s wealth, or principles and mummy’s acceptance, even though we know that both are steeped in cultural arrogance and societal bigotry. We embellish our profiles with elaborate degrees of knowledge, prestigious accreditations of piety and align with the most respected nobles of society, but succumb to the simple pressure of choosing between a life of comfort and acceptance, and a life of modesty and principles. 

    Being romantic in words and cowardly in action is easy. Both feeds an insatiable ego. The world will always be greater than our greatest aspirations if focused outwardly, but will fade from view the moment we seek to overcome the frailties within. I despise cowards, and cowardliness, especially when accompanied by a pretentious mourn for sympathy and understanding. Those that indulge the cowards are only appeasing their own need for such affirmation. That’s why a true martyr is rare, more rare than a coward ever will be.