Bigga Deal
I have noticed that many of we humans have a tendency to take much of life very seriously. Of course, as a licensed counselor trained in clinical psychology, the fact that we humans are so serious helps to insure me a steady flow of clients in addition to those who live with acute mental illness. Many of the folk’s with/for whom I work have previously been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder or possibly depression. For these individuals, often many life events are viewed as a bigga deal. I am borrowing the term from my now deceased friend and former client, Jan. Jan was this wonderfully talented artist and teacher. He had legions of former students who adored him and were enormously grateful for his helpful critique and encouragement to pursue their artistic talent. He was also the proud father of two children and had wife he adored and respected. She was also an artist. They enjoyed many outdoor activities together including canoeing and camping. To any observer, Jan had many reasons to feel confident and good about himself. Yet, whenever he had a new project or even when it was nearing time to start a new semester at school he would become very anxious. He would also become anxious when he had a “block” and could not finish a painting. The anxiety would say that he had no more talent or he was not going to be a good teacher despite his 30 years of good reviews by colleagues and students. It was obvious to everyone who knew, respected, and loved Jan that the anxiety was lying. Yet, something in Jan had a very difficult time accepting that the anxiety was lying. He would consistently reinforce the lies of the anxiety. The tall, slender Scandinavian man would become very tiny as happens when we buy into the lie that we are incompetent, inept, and unable to contribute anything. When I saw him in the office, we would talk back to the anxiety and correct the lies. One of the shorthand ways he developed of talking back to the anxiety was to say in this very dramatic voice, “Bigga deal,” which translated as “You are full of crap. I am an experienced, talented, capable, strong man.” If the anxiety were attempting to keep him from painting, I would tell him that he was going to paint with freestyle large artist brushes. First we would set up this large pretend canvas – 10 feet by 5 feet – and then I would physically stand behind him and with his permission put the brush is his hand and guide him in making powerful strokes without any attempt to cognitively conceptualize the emerging drawing. Pretty soon I could sink back and whatever the block was would disappear. The strong, passionate, expressive artist was again in charge. The anxiety had taken a back seat whether it wanted to or not. The block was not a “bigga deal.”
Another client for/with whom I was working worked in a very serious financial institution. The prevailing atmosphere was that the work that they were doing was very important and everyone was mandated to dress and behave in a very serious way. There was no room for levity. One could “see” the constant tension. It was not surprising that Larry (along with many of the other employees) was very anxious and his body was letting him know that the constant tension was affecting his health. His core value system was that people and relationships were much more important than focusing on the bottom line of money, money, money. He was also an astute businessman who know that if he and others could be more relaxed at work they would be more creative and, ironically, make as much or more money than when they uptight and tense. Yet, he continued to get sucked into the very serious, negative system at work. He was not ready to quit his job but knew he had to find a way to avoid getting medically ill. I suggested that we find some object which he could always have with him at work and which, when touched, would remind him that it was safe to relax and not accept the invitation to that very serious place. We finally decided that he would go to the adult sex store and buy a leather cock ring which he could wear under this very formal dress shirt and suit coat. The point was that it was impossible for him to feel the object beneath his suit coat and stay overly serious at the same time. As soon as he touched this talisman he simultaneously accessed his core value system which included the belief that he did not have to have this job. If he did lose the job his faith told him that he would find another and that he and his family would be fine; that it was important for him to be healthy, emotionally and physically, when he got home to his family.
One day this week I was sitting at Panera’s writing and I noticed two apparent businessmen in traditional, Western professional male costumes of dress trousers, white shirts. and ties. The man facing me even had a more formal white shirt with French cuffs. Then I noticed that his trousers had slipped up enough for me to notice his colorful, playful socks. Most of the time his socks did not show, but he knew he was wearing them. I told him how much I liked the combination of the very serious costume and the silly socks. He had found a way to remind himself to not take life and his job, whatever it was, so seriously. I later goggled fun, men’s socks and found such sites as “Happy Socks” which sells fun “happy” socks and matching boxer shorts. Silly socks are much cheaper and certainly more fun than taking a medication such as Zanax or some other, often addictive, medication, which is likely to have side effects. The silly or happy socks say “Bigga Deal.”
As health care professionals we would do well to take lessons from such companies as “Happy Socks.” Most of us “know,” at some level, that life is very short; that not much matters except how well we love each other. We can certainly work very hard and take good care of our families without selling our souls – our health – to the very serious companies and the resultant value system which tells us that making money, buying an expensive car, belonging to the right clubs, and wearing the right costume is what partners and parents do if they love their family. The paradoxical message is: love your family by insuring that you are not with them physically or emotionally 90% of the time.
There is a lot of research on the price one pays for being a Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Warren Buffett, or what has euphemistically been called the Robber Barons of an earlier era in the history of the United States (not limited to this period of history but this was the term for that particular period of history in the United States).
For example, in an article by Lisa Miller in New York Magazine in 2012 entitled “The Money-Empathy Gap” she reports “New research suggests that more money makes people act less human. Or at least less humane.” She further states:
“For a long time, primatologists have known that chimpanzees will act out social dominance with a special ferociousness, slapping hands, stamping feet, or “charging back and forth and dragging huge branches,” as Jane Goodall once wrote. And sociologists and anthropologists have explored the effects of hierarchy in tribes and groups. But psychology has only recently begun seriously investigating how having money, that major marker of status in the modern world, affects psychosocial behavior in the species Homo sapiens. By making real people temporarily very affluent, without regard to their actual economic circumstances and within the controlled environment of a psych lab, the Berkeley researchers aim to demonstrate the potency of that one variable. “Putting someone in a role where they’re more privileged and have more power in a game makes them behave like people who actually do have more power, more money, and more status,” says Paul Piff, the psychologist who designed the experiment. The Monopoly results, based on a year of watching inequitable games between pairs like Glasses and T-Shirt, have not yet been released. But Piff believes that they will support and amplify his previous provocative research.
Earlier this year, Piff, who is 30, published a paper in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that made him semi-famous. Titled “Higher Social Class Predicts Increased Unethical Behavior,” it showed through quizzes, online games, questionnaires, in-lab manipulations, and field studies that living high on the socioeconomic ladder can, colloquially speaking, dehumanize people. It can make them less ethical, more selfish, more insular, and less compassionate than other people. It can make them more likely, as Piff demonstrated in one of his experiments, to take candy from a bowl of sweets designated for children. “While having money doesn’t necessarily make anybody anything,” Piff says, “the rich are way more likely to prioritize their own self-interests above the interests of other people. It makes them more likely to exhibit characteristics that we would stereotypically associate with, say, assholes.”
I am not suggesting that we need to set a goal of changing the billionaires of the world. I am suggesting that we can support and help each other as well as our children not but into the “Bigga Deal” trap of becoming attached to the concept that success depends on how much power we have or how much we can “prove” that our toys are bigger and more expensive than those of others.
Written October 16, 2015
I have noticed that many of we humans have a tendency to take much of life very seriously. Of course, as a licensed counselor trained in clinical psychology, the fact that we humans are so serious helps to insure me a steady flow of clients in addition to those who live with acute mental illness. Many of the folk’s with/for whom I work have previously been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder or possibly depression. For these individuals, often many life events are viewed as a bigga deal. I am borrowing the term from my now deceased friend and former client, Jan. Jan was this wonderfully talented artist and teacher. He had legions of former students who adored him and were enormously grateful for his helpful critique and encouragement to pursue their artistic talent. He was also the proud father of two children and had wife he adored and respected. She was also an artist. They enjoyed many outdoor activities together including canoeing and camping. To any observer, Jan had many reasons to feel confident and good about himself. Yet, whenever he had a new project or even when it was nearing time to start a new semester at school he would become very anxious. He would also become anxious when he had a “block” and could not finish a painting. The anxiety would say that he had no more talent or he was not going to be a good teacher despite his 30 years of good reviews by colleagues and students. It was obvious to everyone who knew, respected, and loved Jan that the anxiety was lying. Yet, something in Jan had a very difficult time accepting that the anxiety was lying. He would consistently reinforce the lies of the anxiety. The tall, slender Scandinavian man would become very tiny as happens when we buy into the lie that we are incompetent, inept, and unable to contribute anything. When I saw him in the office, we would talk back to the anxiety and correct the lies. One of the shorthand ways he developed of talking back to the anxiety was to say in this very dramatic voice, “Bigga deal,” which translated as “You are full of crap. I am an experienced, talented, capable, strong man.” If the anxiety were attempting to keep him from painting, I would tell him that he was going to paint with freestyle large artist brushes. First we would set up this large pretend canvas – 10 feet by 5 feet – and then I would physically stand behind him and with his permission put the brush is his hand and guide him in making powerful strokes without any attempt to cognitively conceptualize the emerging drawing. Pretty soon I could sink back and whatever the block was would disappear. The strong, passionate, expressive artist was again in charge. The anxiety had taken a back seat whether it wanted to or not. The block was not a “bigga deal.”
Another client for/with whom I was working worked in a very serious financial institution. The prevailing atmosphere was that the work that they were doing was very important and everyone was mandated to dress and behave in a very serious way. There was no room for levity. One could “see” the constant tension. It was not surprising that Larry (along with many of the other employees) was very anxious and his body was letting him know that the constant tension was affecting his health. His core value system was that people and relationships were much more important than focusing on the bottom line of money, money, money. He was also an astute businessman who know that if he and others could be more relaxed at work they would be more creative and, ironically, make as much or more money than when they uptight and tense. Yet, he continued to get sucked into the very serious, negative system at work. He was not ready to quit his job but knew he had to find a way to avoid getting medically ill. I suggested that we find some object which he could always have with him at work and which, when touched, would remind him that it was safe to relax and not accept the invitation to that very serious place. We finally decided that he would go to the adult sex store and buy a leather cock ring which he could wear under this very formal dress shirt and suit coat. The point was that it was impossible for him to feel the object beneath his suit coat and stay overly serious at the same time. As soon as he touched this talisman he simultaneously accessed his core value system which included the belief that he did not have to have this job. If he did lose the job his faith told him that he would find another and that he and his family would be fine; that it was important for him to be healthy, emotionally and physically, when he got home to his family.
One day this week I was sitting at Panera’s writing and I noticed two apparent businessmen in traditional, Western professional male costumes of dress trousers, white shirts. and ties. The man facing me even had a more formal white shirt with French cuffs. Then I noticed that his trousers had slipped up enough for me to notice his colorful, playful socks. Most of the time his socks did not show, but he knew he was wearing them. I told him how much I liked the combination of the very serious costume and the silly socks. He had found a way to remind himself to not take life and his job, whatever it was, so seriously. I later goggled fun, men’s socks and found such sites as “Happy Socks” which sells fun “happy” socks and matching boxer shorts. Silly socks are much cheaper and certainly more fun than taking a medication such as Zanax or some other, often addictive, medication, which is likely to have side effects. The silly or happy socks say “Bigga Deal.”
As health care professionals we would do well to take lessons from such companies as “Happy Socks.” Most of us “know,” at some level, that life is very short; that not much matters except how well we love each other. We can certainly work very hard and take good care of our families without selling our souls – our health – to the very serious companies and the resultant value system which tells us that making money, buying an expensive car, belonging to the right clubs, and wearing the right costume is what partners and parents do if they love their family. The paradoxical message is: love your family by insuring that you are not with them physically or emotionally 90% of the time.
There is a lot of research on the price one pays for being a Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Warren Buffett, or what has euphemistically been called the Robber Barons of an earlier era in the history of the United States (not limited to this period of history but this was the term for that particular period of history in the United States).
For example, in an article by Lisa Miller in New York Magazine in 2012 entitled “The Money-Empathy Gap” she reports “New research suggests that more money makes people act less human. Or at least less humane.” She further states:
“For a long time, primatologists have known that chimpanzees will act out social dominance with a special ferociousness, slapping hands, stamping feet, or “charging back and forth and dragging huge branches,” as Jane Goodall once wrote. And sociologists and anthropologists have explored the effects of hierarchy in tribes and groups. But psychology has only recently begun seriously investigating how having money, that major marker of status in the modern world, affects psychosocial behavior in the species Homo sapiens. By making real people temporarily very affluent, without regard to their actual economic circumstances and within the controlled environment of a psych lab, the Berkeley researchers aim to demonstrate the potency of that one variable. “Putting someone in a role where they’re more privileged and have more power in a game makes them behave like people who actually do have more power, more money, and more status,” says Paul Piff, the psychologist who designed the experiment. The Monopoly results, based on a year of watching inequitable games between pairs like Glasses and T-Shirt, have not yet been released. But Piff believes that they will support and amplify his previous provocative research.
Earlier this year, Piff, who is 30, published a paper in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that made him semi-famous. Titled “Higher Social Class Predicts Increased Unethical Behavior,” it showed through quizzes, online games, questionnaires, in-lab manipulations, and field studies that living high on the socioeconomic ladder can, colloquially speaking, dehumanize people. It can make them less ethical, more selfish, more insular, and less compassionate than other people. It can make them more likely, as Piff demonstrated in one of his experiments, to take candy from a bowl of sweets designated for children. “While having money doesn’t necessarily make anybody anything,” Piff says, “the rich are way more likely to prioritize their own self-interests above the interests of other people. It makes them more likely to exhibit characteristics that we would stereotypically associate with, say, assholes.”
I am not suggesting that we need to set a goal of changing the billionaires of the world. I am suggesting that we can support and help each other as well as our children not but into the “Bigga Deal” trap of becoming attached to the concept that success depends on how much power we have or how much we can “prove” that our toys are bigger and more expensive than those of others.
Written October 16, 2015
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