Some people are drawn to new and exciting experiences and relationships, and are reluctant to limit their options. Yet when they habitually avoid commitment to keep possibilities open, they may end up with little of value, whether in terms of relationships or a career.
While young, bouncing around and having a variety of experiences can be fun and eye-opening. Yet when individuals continue on the “keeping-my-options-open” path, they may end up distracted, scattered, and drifting. A lifetime of spontaneity and novelty can eventually leave a person feeling empty, shallow, and jaded. Relationships will lack depth and have little meaning. Work may not be enriching. Every moment might be filled with questions such as “What next?” and “What else?”
Youthful or immature?
In mythology, the Puer aeternus represents the eternal child. Fluttering around like a butterfly, this Peter Pan like personality delights in adventures and fears the possibility of being trapped. People who embody the Puer adapt easily to new people and ideas. Yet they can be impulsive, impatient, and have difficulty focusing on a particular direction in life. Magnetic and charming when young, the Puer is emotionally juvenile and un-rooted as he or she gets older.
The continuous need to keep our options open is a choice that limits our lives in a substantial way. By keeping all our options open, we limit ourselves to the superficial. We eliminate certain meaningful experiences from our life, including the experience of a deep and committed relationship as well as dedicated and satisfying work. There are no perfect choices in relationship and in work. But even when marriages and careers don’t work out, at least we haven’t missed out on the richness of trying to live life with depth.
Inner Stillness
The fear of missing out comes from a need for anticipation, excitement, and busyness, which stems from discomfort with being still and present in the moment.
Individuals who fear commitment can best deepen life experience by getting in touch with their inner stillness. Through being able to be still and present to one’s internal voice rather than just to externalities, one can learn to appreciate, enjoy, and feel greater depth in all of the experiences in life without needing as much variety and constant stimulus.
This is not to suggest that we should commit to someone we are not in love with or to work that repels us. Yet by becoming more grounded and centered, we will lose our fear that we will be missing out by limiting our options. Instead, we will find that only by making commitments and choosing directions can we really experience the joy and awe of the simple wonders in life, the feeling of self-empowerment coming from dedication and depth within a field of work, and the strength and potency of a long-term committed relationship.
Many people get a rush out of rushing and squeezing extra tasks into every minute of the hour. I personally have found myself feeling proud of all the things I can get done in a short amount of time.
However, when rushing becomes a habit rather than a skill left for the occasional emergency, your life suffers in several ways:
1. You cannot enjoy the mystery and depth of the moment.
2. Even if you enjoy the challenge of speed and action, you exude tension.
3. Other people feel your tension and don’t enjoy being with you. They might even feel as if they are an imposition on you.
4. Rushing causes you to make mistakes and forget things.
5. You don’t spend much “quality” time with others.
When you’re overly focused on a goal, you may forget the impact you have on others. For example, people often tail-gate while driving because they don’t allow enough time to get where they are going. They are too busy trying to squeeze in an extra task.
Worst of all, people become impatient and rude with those closest to them if they have too much on their mind.
So, take a step back, notice your tendency to fill every moment. Become aware of the anxiety caused by packing too much in.
There’s no need to swing to a life of meditation. Simply take a little more time to become “present” to yourself and those around you. Calming down your inner pusher will allow you to experience greater serenity, mystery, and depth in your life.
“I admire and support him. I am his biggest fan. I am his right hand and one woman audience. I am his best friend and his only source of succor. Yet, he constantly humiliates and berates me and abuses me in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. What gives?”
Guest Author SAM VAKNIN, PhD writes:
He may be a narcissist.
The narcissist depends on his coterie for Narcissistic Supply. He resents this addictive dependence and himself for being so frail and impotent. It negates his self-delusional grandiose fantasy of omnipotence.
To compensate for this shameful neediness, the narcissist holds his sycophantic acolytes in contempt. He finds his fans, admirers, and followers repulsive and holds them to be inferior. He sees himself reflected in their presumptuousness and sense of entitlement and resents this constant and tawdry reminder.
Fans often claim to possess inside information about their idol and to have special rights to privileged access simply by virtue of their unbridled adulation and time-tested loyalty. But, the narcissist, not being a mere mortal, believes himself to be beyond human comprehension and refuses to render anyone special by granting him or her concessions denied to others. Being special is his exclusive prerogative. His followers conduct implies a certain egalitarian camaraderie which the narcissist finds abhorrent, humiliating, and infuriating.
Groupies and hangers-on somehow fancy themselves entitled to the narcissist’s favour and largesse, his time, attention, and other resources. They convince themselves that they are exempt from the narcissist’s rage and wrath and immune to his vagaries and abuse. This self-imputed and self-conferred status irritates the narcissist no end as it challenges and encroaches on his standing as the only source of preferential treatment and the sole decision-maker when it comes to the allocation of his precious and cosmically significant wherewithal.
The narcissist is the guru at the center of a cult. Like other gurus, he demands complete obedience from his flock: his spouse, his offspring, other family members, friends, and colleagues. He feels entitled to adulation and special treatment by his followers. He punishes the wayward and the straying lambs. He enforces discipline, adherence to his teachings, and common goals. The less accomplished he is in reality – the more stringent his mastery and the more pervasive the brainwashing.
Cult leaders are narcissists who failed in their mission to “be someone” , to become famous, and to impress the world with their uniqueness, talents, traits, and skills. Such disgruntled narcissists withdraw into a “zone of comfort” (known as the “Pathological Narcissistic Space” ) that assumes the hallmarks of a cult.
The – often involuntary – members of the narcissist’s mini-cult inhabit a twilight zone of his own construction. He imposes on them an exclusionary or inclusionary shared psychosis, replete with persecutory delusions, “enemies”, mythical-grandiose narratives, and apocalyptic scenarios if he is flouted.
Exclusionary shared psychosis involves the physical and emotional isolation of the narcissist and his “flock” (spouse, children, fans, friends) from the outside world in order to better shield them from imminent threats and hostile intentions. Inclusionary shared psychosis revolves around attempts to spread the narcissist’s message in a missionary fashion among friends, colleagues, co-workers, fans, churchgoers, and anyone else who comes across the mini-cult.
The narcissist’s control is based on ambiguity, unpredictability, fuzziness, and ambient abuse. His ever-shifting whims exclusively define right versus wrong, desirable and unwanted, what is to be pursued and what to be avoided. He alone determines the rights and obligations of his disciples and alters them at will.
The narcissist is a micro-manager. He exerts control over the minutest details and behaviours. He punishes severely and abuses withholders of information and those who fail to conform to his wishes and goals.
The narcissist does not respect the boundaries and privacy of his reluctant adherents. He ignores their wishes and treats them as objects or instruments of gratification. He seeks to control both situations and people compulsively.
He strongly disapproves of others’ personal autonomy and independence. Even innocuous activities, such as meeting a friend or visiting one’s family require his permission. Gradually, he isolates his nearest and dearest until they are fully dependent on him emotionally, sexually, financially, and socially.
He acts in a patronizing and condescending manner and criticizes often. He alternates between emphasizing the minutest faults (devalues) and exaggerating the talents, traits, and skills (idealizes) of the members of his cult. He is wildly unrealistic in his expectations – which legitimizes his subsequent abusive conduct.
The narcissist claims to be infallible, superior, talented, skilful, omnipotent, and omniscient. He often lies and confabulates to support these unfounded claims. Within his cult, he expects awe, admiration, adulation, and constant attention commensurate with his outlandish stories and assertions. He reinterprets reality to fit his fantasies.
His thinking is dogmatic, rigid, and doctrinaire. He does not countenance free thought, pluralism, or free speech and doesn’t brook criticism and disagreement. He demands – and often gets – complete trust and the relegation to his capable hands of all decision-making.
He forces the participants in his cult to be hostile to critics, the authorities, institutions, his personal enemies, or the media – if they try to uncover his actions and reveal the truth. He closely monitors and censors information from the outside, exposing his captive audience only to selective data and analyses.
The narcissist’s cult is “missionary” and “imperialistic”. He is always on the lookout for new recruits – his spouse’s friends, his daughter’s girlfriends, his neighbours, new colleagues at work. He immediately attempts to “convert” them to his “creed” – to convince them how wonderful and admirable he is. In other words, he tries to render them Sources of Narcissistic Supply.
Often, his behaviour on these “recruiting missions” is different to his conduct within the “cult”. In the first phases of wooing new admirers and proselytising to potential “conscripts” – the narcissist is attentive, compassionate, empathic, flexible, self-effacing, and helpful. At home, among the “veterans” he is tyrannical, demanding, wilful, opinionated, aggressive, and exploitative.
As the leader of his congregation, the narcissist feels entitled to special amenities and benefits not accorded the “rank and file”. He expects to be waited on hand and foot, to make free use of everyone’s money and dispose of their assets liberally, and to be cynically exempt from the rules that he himself established (if such violation is pleasurable or gainful).
In extreme cases, the narcissist feels above the law – any kind of law. This grandiose and haughty conviction leads to criminal acts, incestuous or polygamous relationships, and recurrent friction with the authorities.
Hence the narcissist’s panicky and sometimes violent reactions to “dropouts” from his cult. There’s a lot going on that the narcissist wants kept under wraps. Moreover, the narcissist stabilizes his fluctuating sense of self-worth by deriving Narcissistic Supply from his victims. Abandonment threatens the narcissist’s precariously balanced personality.
The narcissist sees enemies and conspiracies everywhere. He often casts himself as the heroic victim (martyr) of dark and stupendous forces. In every deviation from his tenets he espies malevolent and ominous subversion. He, therefore, is bent on disempowering his devotees. By any and all means. The narcissist is dangerous. ===================================
Guest Author Bio
Sam Vaknin is the author of Malignant Self-love: Narcissism Revisited and After the Rain – How the West Lost the East, as well as many other books and ebooks about topics in psychology, relationships, philosophy, economics, and international affairs.
He is the Editor-in-Chief of Global Politician and served as a columnist for Central Europe Review, PopMatters, eBookWeb, and Bellaonline, and as a United Press International (UPI) Senior Business Correspondent. He was the editor of mental health and Central East Europe categories in The Open Directory and Suite101.
Visit Sam’s Web site at http://www.narcissistic-abuse.com.
It’s normal to be intrigued by the enthralling and sometimes unfortunate situations that people we know might find themselves in. However, when spreading news turns into an opportunity to delight in someone else’s misfortune, to malign someone, or to get attention, people involved in listening and spreading the gossip tend to feel dirty afterwards.
When you sense that news is turning into Schadenfreude—feeling happy about someone else’s misfortune—then it is time to take action and change the direction of the conversation or terminate your involvement completely.
When faced with gossipmongering, you can:
1. Change the subject: Steer the conversation in the direction of the gossiper. “How’s your work going?” “How’s your husband doing?”
2. Use humor: Humor is a great way to deflect prying questions. Keep a positive, light-hearted attitude and suggest that nobody is perfect.
3. Empathize with the victim: “Let’s take a look at it from his side.” People who gossip are often used to getting others’ attention and agreement. They might be taken aback, and stop, if you defend the person being slandered.
4. Insinuate a light reprimand: “Let’s talk about something more positive and decide what we’re going to do this afternoon.” Such a statement implies disapproval, but is softened with an alternative topic of discussion.
5. Be direct: “I feel uncomfortable enjoying someone else’s adversity. Let’s not gossip about people unless we’re trying to help them.” This is direct and can be said to people who can handle honest criticism, or when gossip is particularly malicious.
6. Avoid the gossiper: As a last resort, if you can’t stop immature or malicious gossip, avoid the gossiper all together.
(The courtier) should let it seem as if he himself thinks nothing of his accomplishments which, because of his excellence, he makes others think very highly of … (The courtier participates in such activities as dancing and music performing) making it clear that he neither seeks nor expects any applause. Nor, even though his performance is outstanding, should he let it be thought that he has spent on it much time or trouble.
~Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier
Question:
“I come across many people who are modest – even self-effacing. But, sometimes, I feel as if they are faking it. I can’t put my finger on it, but the feeling is still there: these people are not genuine, they are disingenuous. Can you shed light on this and advise me on how to tell apart the humble from the feigning?”
Answer:
The “modesty” displayed by these people – the “fakes” – is false. It is mostly and merely verbal. It is couched in flourishing phrases, emphasized to absurdity, repeated unnecessarily – usually to the point of causing gross inconvenience to the listener. The real aim of such behaviour and its subtext are exactly the opposite of common modesty.
It is intended to either aggrandize the speaker or to protect his grandiosity from scrutiny and possible erosion. Such modest outbursts precede inflated, grandiosity-laden statements made by the interlocutor and pertaining to fields of human knowledge and activity in which he is sorely lacking.
Devoid of systematic and methodical education, he who feigns humility tries to make do with pompous, or aggressive mannerisms, bombastic announcements, and the unnecessary and wrong usage of professional jargon. He attempts to dazzle his surroundings with apparent “brilliance” and to put possible critics on the defense.
Beneath all this he is shallow, ignorant, improvising, and fearful of being exposed as deceitful. Such people are conjurers of verbosity, using sleight of mouth rather than sleight of hand. They are ever possessed by the fear that they really are petty crooks about to be unearthed and reviled by society.
This is a horrible feeling to endure and a taxing, onerous way to live. People who fake modesty have to protect themselves from their own premonitions, from their internal sempiternal trial, their guilt, shame, and anxiety. One of the more efficacious defence mechanisms is false modesty.
Consider the narcissist, the most common variety of such “fakers”.
The narcissist publicly chastises himself for being unfit, unworthy, lacking, not trained and not (formally) schooled, not objective, cognisant of his own shortcomings and vain. This way, if (or, rather, when) exposed he could always say: “But I told you so in the first place, haven’t I?” False modesty is, thus an insurance policy. The narcissist “hedges his bets” by placing a side bet on his own fallibility, weakness, deficiencies and proneness to err.
Yet another function is to extract Narcissistic Supply from the listener. By contrasting his own self-deprecation with a brilliant, dazzling display of ingenuity, wit, intellect, knowledge, or beauty – the narcissist aims to secure an adoring, admiring, approving, or applauding protestation from the listener.
The person to whom the falsely modest statement is addressed is expected to vehemently deny the narcissist’s claims: “But, really, you are more of an expert than you say!”, or “Why did you tell me that you are unable to do (this or that)? Truly, you are very gifted!” “Don’t put yourself down so much – you are a generous man!”
The narcissist then shrugs, smirks, blushes and moves uncomfortably from side to side. This was not his intention, he assures his interlocutor. He did not mean to fish for compliments (exactly what he did mean to do). He really does not deserve the praise. But the aim has, thus, been achieved: the Narcissistic Supply has been doled out and avidly consumed. Despite the narcissist’s protestations, he feels much better now.
The narcissist is a dilettante and a charlatan. He glosses over complicated subjects and situations in life. He sails through them powered by shallow acquaintance with rapidly acquired verbal and behavioural vocabularies (which he then promptly proceeds to forget).
False modesty is only one of a series of feigned behaviours. The narcissist is a pathological liar, either implicitly or explicitly. His whole existence is a derivative of a False Self, his deceitful invention and its reflections. With false modesty he seeks to involve others in his mind games, to co-opt them, to force them to collaborate while making ultimate use of social conventions of conduct.
The narcissist, above all, is a shrewd manipulator, well-acquainted with human nature and its fault lines. No narcissist will ever admit to it. In this sense, narcissists are really modest.
