Accumulation: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly


Every attainment,

every step forward in knowledge,

follows…from cleanliness in relation to oneself.

- Friedrich Nietzsche

t might be helpful to think about owning a brain in the same way we think about owning a house. Homeowners realize that a large part of their job is to monitor the accumulation of things. Some things that accumulate are the result of hard work. New flooring, dual-pane windows, blooming iris and stocked pantries are all to the good. Some things unfortunately collect that we wish didn’t. Chipping paint and weeds and moldy things in the refrigerator are bad. What can be ugly about a home are those structural issues that we hope to either accommodate or renovate. But there are sometimes more projects involving low ceilings, cracked foundations and poor insulation than we can resolve.

As a brain owner, we have a similar responsibility to watch what is accumulating within our skull domicile.

The similarity continues with these truths: it is much harder to see the good accumulate (clean windows or a habit of regular exercise) when the bad is in the way (detritus from the superbowl party or an emotional hangover from an ice cream binge). And some deep structural damage can inhibit both our willingness and our ability to stay focused on positive accumulation.

At its most basic, we have a fine life when we can steadily accumulate good things, prevent the accumulation of negative things and work to overcome the unfortunate parts of our past that create ugly things.

Eli Wallach

So let’s start with the ugly. As I’ve said over and over, the things that are cause for alarm in our psychological lives are always the result of a birth curse. We inherit the cracked foundation and poor insulation – we wouldn’t willingly and intentionally choose to inhabit a poorly launched life. All psychological work, be it formal (therapy, self-help literature, etc.) or informal (thinking, reading, talking with others, etc.), is in service of repairing the damaged emotional structures passed down to us from our ancestors. And this heritage is hundreds of years in the making, coming to us from the grandparents of our grandparents. Some of these issues (e.g. a general attitude of pessimism which we learned from our parents) can be life-long projects to overcome. Others (difficulty being assertive because we were trained to be compliant as children) can be resolved with training to improve mental habits.

But the important thing is to pay attention. The psychologically ugly moves to a crisis point when the brain owner has been unable to acknowledge that there is a problem. For then, left unattended, the inherited crack in our emotional foundation will slowly widen.

When it comes to conceptualizing the ugly parts of our psyche, it is critical to remember that, because there is never a perfect match between a set of parents and a child, we all have had less-than-perfect childhoods. Therefore, all of us move into a fixer-upper adult life. Our job as that brain owner is to find resources (like therapy or!) to help us identify and repair structural problems in our life.

Lee Van Cleef

The psychologically bad, like the actor cast for this part, tends to be easy to spot, but that doesn't mean we will be keenly vigilant about doing so. But without nearly constant attention, our brain starts to accumulate the telltale signs of poor living. Like dust bunnies in the corners, debris collects from sloppy habits, forcing us to acknowledge the presence of less-than-stellar behaviors. Now I’m not saying that we have to have pristine minds, but most of us are happier with a certain level of psychological tidiness, as the Nietzschean epigraph I used for this article suggests. If we start to get sloppy about clenching our jaw or indulging in gossip or fibbing to ourselves, the grime of life will start to accumulate. So when we tuck ourselves into bed at night or write out a to-do list with our morning coffee, it behooves us to check the corners of our minds for cobwebs. Gentle nudges on our conscience that move us away from bad behavior are an effective way to not accumulate evil dust bunnies.

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 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


I and Thou

- Martin Buber



Can you reward yourself with something that may seem counterintuitive, like a piece of cake for losing five pounds?

Yes and no. No, if the behavior you are trying to accumulate involves abstinence. In other words, you cannot reward quitting cigarettes with a smoke. But if you are not using abstinence as a strategy, then, yes, a piece of cake can definitely be a lovely reward...


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 rock 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 seriously wish the best for ourselves, we will gladly learn to tolerate immediate discomfort for later, greater rewards. But this life skill 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 systems 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 either get 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. Things are much easier. 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 a 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.

And 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.


The most remarkable thing to me about snow is the way it can accumulate. Crystal by crystal, it builds up on the most unlikely of places – a tiny twig, the top edge of a stop sign or the twisted wire of a cyclone fence – a million spots where Mother Nature had patiently stacked her snow, balanced and gorgeous. I am always blown away by the patience that had gone into the creation of this magical landscape.

But the same could be said for being blanketed by despair. The same phenomenon occurs, a gradual accumulation of missteps that builds to cover everything with bleakness.

Never underestimate the power of accumulation to create the good, the bad or the ugly.

© Copyright 2014 Jan Iversen. All rights reserved.