If the debris has reached a level that threatens our ability to accumulate the good, we will need a more stringent come-to-Jesus moment. The starkest way to take stock is to remind ourselves that we are what we do. If we absentmindedly do things we don’t intend to do, that is still who we are becoming. A second or third glass of wine every night, an increasingly petulant tone of voice with our spouse or sloppiness about returning phone calls from friends are examples of psychological plaque that would require what a writer friend of mine calls "mental floss." Mental floss is simply taking the time to have a think about how we're running our lives. And, of course, frequent psychological deep cleaning (workshops, retreats, thought exercises, and so on) is always a good idea.
Clint Eastwood
What’s nice about this movie metaphor is that the person that Clint Eastwood played was complex rather than purely virtuous. It’s wiser to aspire to a high percentage of goodness rather than beat your head against the solid granite wall of perfection.
Having said that, however, I want to be clear that a hallmark of maturity is the ability to reliably accumulate good. If youngsters aren’t taught how to do this, they will struggle in their attempts to develop into potent adults. If we return to the five parental attitudes, we can identify the components of sound mental health that will allow for the accumulation of good.
1. Delay of gratification. This most basic of life skills is a reflection of the ability to take ourselves seriously. If we earnestly wish the best for ourselves, we will willingly tolerate immediate discomfort for later, greater rewards. But this life skill, a specific type of willpower, has to be learned within the context of taking yourself seriously because delay of gratification is a purely cognitive function. There are no emotional reward centers in the brain to reinforce delay of gratification and, in fact, there are often negative emotional consequences to putting off satisfactions. We can only learn this skill, therefore, if we can reason our way through the process. As we practice delaying gratification, we deepen our faith in our cognitive ability to make good predictions that what we are aspiring to in the future will be worth the current suffering. So it is very helpful to learn this thinking skill with tiny little delays as children. We learn that recess, dessert and our birthday all eventually come and that they are all worth the wait.
2. Responsible procrastination. Odd as it may sound, holding yourself accountable will involve a certain level of procrastination. A calculated decision to delay an action can often be a good bet. Because this is a complicated and shame-laden concept, it has been given it’s own article. Suffice it to say here, however, if we can skillfully procrastinate we can avoid both habitual delays and also panicked striving for perfection that each interfere with positive accumulation.
3. Self-remuneration. When we find ourselves delightful at least some of the time, we will be willing to reward our efforts. Rewards work. Actions followed by reinforcement will be repeated. Clever and kind incentives are a mature – not indulgent – way to treat yourself because they are such effective behavior modifiers. As a brain owner, one of your most important jobs is to administer effective yet healthy rewards. There are two tricky truths about rewards. First, they have to be custom made because they have to make you feel better after you receive them. So trying to reward yourself with something you don't really like or, worse, for which you have an insatiable appetite, will not make you feel good. (The latter case will remind you instead that you feel perpetually deprived.) And second, rewards lose their potency if they are used in non-rewarding ways. In other words, rewards have to feel special. To use me as an example, cookies (tragically) never feel rewarding because I eat cookies often yet am never satisfied when I do. If I try to pretend that allowing myself to eat cookies if I finish an article will feel reinforcing, my wise inner child will cry foul. Pencils, plants or books however, always work for me. I love a brand new number two pencil, so if I sometimes reward an action with a bright yellow Dixon Ticonderoga, that reward feels both special and sufficient.
4. Psychological spreadsheeting. To live existentially is to pay attention to hard truths. One hard truth is that we need to pay attention to what is accumulating in our brain. If you have the time and the RAM, you can do this monitoring in your head. Most of the time, however, we are better off seeing our truths in black and white. Chore lists with items checked off, savings accounts and day planners are all types of spreadsheets. Much of what is now being called evidence-based therapy involves the use of structured worksheets to document improved mental health habits. But any simple system of ledgers can be an effective way to monitor accumulation – from tallies on a chalkboard to formal workout logs.
5. Emotional budgeting. The fifth parental attitude involves working on your adult relationships. This is a crucial aspect of accumulation because there will be a tipping point in our habituation process where things get either easier or much, much harder. If we have been successful as a brain owner and our brains are accumulating primarily good stuff, we happily build on this forward momentum to keep things moving smoothly, and life struggles ease up a bit. If, however, we have been sliding toward the bad or the ugly, we can tip into a deficit from which it is hard to escape. At that point, what can save us from slip sliding away is the emotional equity we have stored up in relationships. When we are in despair, friends and family can donate psychological energy to us that can help us reverse the downward trend. The vigor we get through attachment feels wonderful because it is a combination of confirmation, encouragement, attention and respect. As with sound financial planning, we can't go wrong putting energy into maintaining positive emotional equity among our friends, family and neighbors.
A wise brain owner uses all five parental attitudes to foster the accumulation of good. We are what we do. We need to do good.
Nag, nag, nag
Are there days when you can’t seem to make yourself walk out to the garage and pick up a rake? Do you find yourself, instead, muttering into your coffee that leaves will just continue to fall and make a mess, so – who cares if you rake the garden today? “Leaf season” is one great example of the seeming futility of noncumulative tasks, but our lives are chock full of them. So, how do you accumulate those annoyingly noncumulative tasks?
It’s time to go meta in our thinking. Life is difficult. Accumulation of the good – again, especially the good that doesn’t stay done – is part of that difficulty. But, we can't ignore the fact that it is wise to do some jobs even though the rewards for doing so are vague at best.
The trick is learning how to find the damn benefits of cleaning up the kitchen for the millionth time.
We do this by comparing the very ephemeral satisfaction of having a chore done with the solid dissatisfaction of not having it done. That process looks like this:
• Remember, in addition to having a clean workspace by cleaning the kitchen, you have eliminated the tiresome negative feelings you get when you see the sink full of dirty dishes or feel a sticky counter.
• Remember that good self-discipline gets easier with practice. When cleaning up the kitchen is what you do after dinner, you can usually just do it without having to ask yourself to do it.
• Remember all good things are made easier with a tidy mind. And clutter in the kitchen creates clutter in the mind because you have to have that "nag"/"shut-up" conversation with yourself over and over.
• Remember, what you are accumulating is the pattern of days spent with your chores attended to.
• Remember to be nice to yourself when you have a hard time remembering all these bitter truths.
I must point out that it can be just fine to let the metaphorical leaves or dishes pile up in our lives just a bit in order to enhance the dramatic effect of task completion. But, even so, improving our ability to aggregate a habit of doing the good that doesn’t stay done is most often a mark of maturity.
Collection
The most remarkable thing to me about snow is the way it can accumulate, crystal by crystal, on the most unlikely of places – a tiny twig, the top edge of a stop sign or the twisted wire of a cyclone fence. I am always blown away by the patience that has gone into the creation of this magical landscape.
Like snow, the tiny, positive moves we make in life will accrue in such a way that our lives start to look more and more lovely.
But the same could be said for being blanketed by despair. A gradual accumulation of missteps or akrasia can build to cover everything with bleakness, like soot after a forest fire.
Never underestimate the power of accumulation to create the good, the bad or the ugly.
But here is the final and perhaps most interesting piece of the accumulation puzzle: when we find ourselves on a roll, when our tally sheets are full of positive ticks, we will be in a position to enjoy one of the most rewarding, yet faint psychological perfumes our brain biochemistry makes available to us – serenity. Like the subtle scent of the freesia, serenity must be enjoyed with connoisseur-like dedication. We must stop what we are doing, clear our palate of conflicting emotions and then register the combined sense of both peace and joy that serenity provides for us. So, when the good accumulates, remember to stop and smell the serenity.