Mental Traps_ The Overthinker's Guide to a Happier Life - Andre Kukla [45]
Formulation is the last mental trap to go. We may clearly see how life is possible without keeping the future or the past constantly in mind. But at least, we think, the present must be kept in mind. We can forgo knowing what comes next, but at least we have to know what’s happening now. But assuming that circumstances don’t change, once a decision has been made to do something, it serves no purpose to keep what we are doing in mind. When we’re cleaning the house, it’s enough to dust the table and make the bed. Perpetually reminding ourselves that we are Cleaning the House drains us of energy, divides our attention, and causes us to resist new alternatives.
When we’re occupied with this, there’s nothing that needs to be kept in mind. Even “This” is saying too much.
ow that we’ve developed some skill in detecting traps, how do we manage to get out of them? Let’s look in on a moment when we are out of them. All but the most blighted lives are blessed now and then with brief intervals of freedom from mental traps. We may be walking to the mailbox as we have countless times before when we suddenly realize that we are just walking to the mailbox. For a moment, there’s nothing else in the world but the spring of our step and the sun on our face. The present moment fills our consciousness entirely, banishing yesterday and tomorrow, hope and regret, plans, schemes, should-have-beens, what-ifs, and let-me-justs. We experience a delightful sense of lightness. The customary forced march through a field of molasses comes to a halt, and we glide. We haven’t a care in the world. There’s nothing to keep track of, nothing to remember, nowhere to get to, nothing to get over with. This moment exists all by itself. Why don’t we simply continue to live like this for the rest of time?
The answer is obvious. We don’t believe that life can be so simple. While we glide, who’s minding the store? It seems to us that our countless outstanding problems and projects must suffer from this sort of neglect. The good things we wish to secure must immediately begin to recede from us unless we keep them in their place by perpetually renewing our commitment to them. And the dire circumstances we want to avert must come closer unless we keep them at bay by our eternal vigilance. Living entirely in the present seems to us like holding our breath—perhaps we can do it for a minute or two on a dare, but it can’t be a way of life. After a few untrapped steps, we become frightened and plunge back into the sea of familiar troubles. There’s work to be done.
Is life simple or complex? Do we need elaborate calculations and prescriptions to get through, or will things work out as well in the end if we let impulse rule and just run free? As with all issues of ultimate importance, there’s something to be said for both sides. On the one hand, it isn’t true that we must always be vigilant, always calculating. Our situation doesn’t automatically deteriorate as soon as we turn our head. At least sometimes, we may allow ourselves the luxury of perfect spontaneity. We won’t automatically wander off the edge of a cliff as soon as we cease to push our lives from behind along a predetermined track.
On the other hand, there are cliffs; and when we skirt close to one, we must begin to calculate our steps. There are times when we can afford to be spontaneous, free, and impulsive; and there are times we have to be vigilant, calculating, and prescriptive. The question is how to key into one mode of operation and out of the other. This switching problem is the most fundamental problem of human life.
From one perspective—let’s call it the perspective of modern consciousness—this problem poses a formidable