Notes to Myself: My Struggle to Become a Person

by Hugh Prather

Do I really think there is anything more profoundly true about my interpretation of the situation, now that I’m wide awake in bed, than there was when I was in the middle of it this afternoon?

Don’t fight a fact, deal with it. Don’t discard your self, be more of it.

The injunction to be unselfish refers only to one sense of self. I certainly know what it’s like to be preoccupied and uncaring, yet I am also conscious of a deep desire to treat others’ feelings as my own. Each of us is selfish in the sense that we are always doing what some part of us wants. Generosity feels at least as rewarding as greed. Selfishness is neither good nor bad—it depends on the way we are selfish as to whether it nourishes or injures.

Someone asks: Would you like to do so-and-so? A picture forms in my mind and as I look at it, it is appealing or unappealing and I say yes I would or no I wouldn’t. Yet this picture is not precognitive. It is a composite of past experiences that will be more or less unlike the coming event.

There is no way to know which future course is best because there is no way to foresee all those my decision will affect and how it will affect them, and to attempt to force my mind to reach certainty only assures that it will not. Yet it’s always possible to know what I believe would be best, because belief is found in the present. My task, therefore, is not to “see my way through,” but merely to discover my deepest preference.

Maybe in the future, I don’t actually know what’s going to happen ever, I can only be content with the now and right now, I am unhappy. It’s a grind to separate from something so positive, an image, a thought, that you had constructed yourself. Realize that the winds were too strong and that another day will come when you can fly.

It is sometimes said that each of us is ultimately alone. That idea is compelling not because of birth and death but because so often our moments alone seem more true, more real. The word “God” only begins to have meaning for me when I am alone. Or if not alone, so at one with another

that there is no sense of a competing reality. God has no meaning for me in a discussion. I don’t think religion is an attainable subject for the intellect. I can only believe when I’m not talking about it.

I am noticing that when I am bored I think I am tired of my surroundings but I am really tired of my thoughts. It is trite, repetitious, unobserved thinking that is producing the discontent. Adopting a quiet awareness, a kind of listening attitude, usually freshens my mind and brings the situation I am in to life.

Or insecurity can mean I know how I operate but don’t think it’s good enough. When I find myself mentally rehearsing how I should act, how I should present myself, this shows that I lack respect for the way I am—I can’t be trusted to be perfect and so I have to make rules. Otherwise, I just might slip and be a human being.

The way to handle praise is honestly. Laurel said, “You are one of the kindest people I have ever known.” I could have said, “I believe I am kind but not as kind as you see me. We have known each other only a short time and I have been putting my best foot forward. After you know me better I believe you will agree I can be as thoughtless as the next guy.”