Sunday, January 14, 2007
A Serious Conversation
In a psychology class some mental illnesses were described this way: that neurotics imagine castles in the air and sometimes try to build them, but psychotics, they live in them. What I'm trying to write on here isn't as serious as that, but it is important, because it affects people's lives, often not in a good way.
Maxwell Maltz's book, Psycho-Cybernetics, copyright in 1960, was remarkable for its little examined idea that we are, or we become what we think we are. Maltz, who was so ahead of the then generally accepted attitude about self regard, stated that "The most important psychologic discovery of the century is the discovery of the ""self-image.""
This man was a highly regarded plastic surgeon who helped transform lives, with his skill in using a scapel. But he noticed that even when his surgical skills changed their faces for the better, some still saw themselves as before, and in their minds, that is how they still were.
He maintained that people can change their perception of themselves, and his book offers fifteen chapters of how to do this. But he pointed out that it would take conscious effort.
Many years ago I read his book, but didn't apply much of it, so it's reasonable to assume my self perception likely didn't change. Last week I was reminded of this in, of all places, a store that sells bedding and window covers, and many other household furnishings.
I was pretty sure how I'd react when choosing certain items. It's likely I'm a world class "elbow shopper', checking the price tag before the merchandise. So I took along some built in support, a good friend who not only knows what goes well together, but has no compunction, none at all, about spending money, especially if it's someone elses.
The store seemed huge. You could tell I'm not used to such luxury items, and so many variations of them to choose. We started out looking for curtains. I already had bed coverings that would do. But before we went in the store, I told my friend who likes spending that I realized I'd begin penny pinching in there right away. She
just listened quietly, and smiled.
Did I mention that she's also very wise. Almost before I realized it, she headed me toward rows and rows of bedding. I found myself almost knee deep in comforts and things that go with them. Pillows, stacks of them in every imaginable color, at least it seemed. I recognized some brand names, but didn't know Liz Claiborne made anything but womens' clothes.
Even with fifty percent off (the January sale was on), I was still feeling price tag shock. A hundred dollars! for a comforter! and that didn't include bed skirt or shams.
An hour later I found it, the one I had to have. Obvious quality merchandise, in colors so pleasing. But already I was mentally tired, from checking all those prices and tormenting myself again and again over whether it was alright to spend that much money, on me.
I did the same thing while choosing pillow cases, and all those pretty things that just reeked luxury. In fairness to my friend, I should repeat that I invited her to help me shop, and so she did, checked and rechecked how things looked, and quickly dismissed those that didn't. Searched and searched for colors that matched, really good at detail.
The last things we chose were what I went into the store intending to find, the curtains. I grew so tired of checking their prices, that finally, I just found the right packages of the ones I wanted, and threw them in the cart.
It's not that I go on uncontrollable shopping binges, but my attitude about how much is alright to spend, I think that's out of control, but on the negative side. I'm pretty generous about doing nice things for people, even giving money sometimes. So I have to wonder, am I trying to endear myself so someone will think well of me? Do I think they wouldn't, if I didn't?
This psychological dilemma probably can be resolved, but may take some practice, and spending even a little more money, for pretty things to hang on my bedroom walls, and after a soothing bath, crawling under those luxurious covers, and sinking into pilllows just made to cradle my head. Loving the pleasure of soft fabric brushing against my face. But my 1998 nightgown, it needs to be replaced, and a new table lamp would be nice, because I think I'm going to need it, to see how to read Maxwell Maltz's life changing book again.
Maxwell Maltz's book, Psycho-Cybernetics, copyright in 1960, was remarkable for its little examined idea that we are, or we become what we think we are. Maltz, who was so ahead of the then generally accepted attitude about self regard, stated that "The most important psychologic discovery of the century is the discovery of the ""self-image.""
This man was a highly regarded plastic surgeon who helped transform lives, with his skill in using a scapel. But he noticed that even when his surgical skills changed their faces for the better, some still saw themselves as before, and in their minds, that is how they still were.
He maintained that people can change their perception of themselves, and his book offers fifteen chapters of how to do this. But he pointed out that it would take conscious effort.
Many years ago I read his book, but didn't apply much of it, so it's reasonable to assume my self perception likely didn't change. Last week I was reminded of this in, of all places, a store that sells bedding and window covers, and many other household furnishings.
I was pretty sure how I'd react when choosing certain items. It's likely I'm a world class "elbow shopper', checking the price tag before the merchandise. So I took along some built in support, a good friend who not only knows what goes well together, but has no compunction, none at all, about spending money, especially if it's someone elses.
The store seemed huge. You could tell I'm not used to such luxury items, and so many variations of them to choose. We started out looking for curtains. I already had bed coverings that would do. But before we went in the store, I told my friend who likes spending that I realized I'd begin penny pinching in there right away. She
just listened quietly, and smiled.
Did I mention that she's also very wise. Almost before I realized it, she headed me toward rows and rows of bedding. I found myself almost knee deep in comforts and things that go with them. Pillows, stacks of them in every imaginable color, at least it seemed. I recognized some brand names, but didn't know Liz Claiborne made anything but womens' clothes.
Even with fifty percent off (the January sale was on), I was still feeling price tag shock. A hundred dollars! for a comforter! and that didn't include bed skirt or shams.
An hour later I found it, the one I had to have. Obvious quality merchandise, in colors so pleasing. But already I was mentally tired, from checking all those prices and tormenting myself again and again over whether it was alright to spend that much money, on me.
I did the same thing while choosing pillow cases, and all those pretty things that just reeked luxury. In fairness to my friend, I should repeat that I invited her to help me shop, and so she did, checked and rechecked how things looked, and quickly dismissed those that didn't. Searched and searched for colors that matched, really good at detail.
The last things we chose were what I went into the store intending to find, the curtains. I grew so tired of checking their prices, that finally, I just found the right packages of the ones I wanted, and threw them in the cart.
It's not that I go on uncontrollable shopping binges, but my attitude about how much is alright to spend, I think that's out of control, but on the negative side. I'm pretty generous about doing nice things for people, even giving money sometimes. So I have to wonder, am I trying to endear myself so someone will think well of me? Do I think they wouldn't, if I didn't?
This psychological dilemma probably can be resolved, but may take some practice, and spending even a little more money, for pretty things to hang on my bedroom walls, and after a soothing bath, crawling under those luxurious covers, and sinking into pilllows just made to cradle my head. Loving the pleasure of soft fabric brushing against my face. But my 1998 nightgown, it needs to be replaced, and a new table lamp would be nice, because I think I'm going to need it, to see how to read Maxwell Maltz's life changing book again.
