When we turn the camera inwards and look at ourselves, we start to notice our little foibles, intricacies, and thinking patterns. We learn how we respond to the world and the people in it. We see how we handle stress, uncertainty, loss, and success. With this knowledge we can then predict how we will act in response to future events, and thus make appropriate choices.

When you look closely at most religions, philosophical traditions, styles of psychological therapies, and even healthy friendship groups, you see that they all share the common feature of talking as a form of healing. The confessional, the therapist’s couch, the shared introspections, and the long phone calls all seem to serve the same core function: they act as an outlet, a way to let go of our troubles, a springboard for our ideas, or just an opportunity to process the complexities of life. There are of course differences in the beliefs, practices, and surrounding doctrine, but the practical reality is that healing comes when we talk.

Unless we act, our lives cannot improve.

Extensive knowledge, support or resources mean nothing if we do not employ them to our advantage. Yet there is a risk of falling into the trap of constant action. Always working and never playing. This kind of relentless pursuit of self-improvement is akin to attempting to sprint a marathon; initially you will outpace your opponents, but you will soon burn out. To some, finding this balance comes naturally. These people can moderate their workload and pace themselves over time, ensuring an optimal split between work, rest, and play. Unfortunately, this ability is not universal.

Perfection is unattainable. No matter how hard we try, we will always fall short. Initial progress comes quick and easy, but as we progress, the time and effort to make similar gains becomes exponentially harder. To get a task to 50% complete may take less effort than the final 10%.

Chasing perfection is like trying to find the end of a rainbow. As we approach it, it shifts just a little further. The problem is that perfection is subjective. My perfect will not be the same as your perfect, nor will my perfect stay the same over time. This is true for exercise, family, relationships, careers, financial, or attainments of any kind.

When we attempt to reach our goal, our efforts change us, thus what we now perceive as perfect has also changed. So, we set a new goal, one that is ‘truly’ perfect and then start the process over. We end up stuck in an endless loop of goal revision, one that can stifle all forward progress.

There is a temptation to make money the goal of our worldly pursuits. To make a certain income level, or amount of accumulated assets our life purpose; one that becomes the benchmark of our performance and subsequent happiness. Until reached, we have not yet ‘made it’ and thus cannot be satisfied. The problem is that if your goal is purely financial, attainment will feel like a hollow victory. This is because after a certain point, more money does not bring more happiness.

All relationships end in breakup or death.

It can feel like the more you love now the more pain you will suffer later. One person will outlive the other; left to handle the emotionality of their companion’s passing. Given the inevitable pain that such a connection causes, why is it that we are drawn to one another? Why have the poets spoken of love so passionately? Why is love at the centre of so much art, literature, and culture?

Love gives life meaning.

True, it can be a double-edged sword; a pendulum that swings from joy to pain. But it also acts as a counter point to the inherent suffering that life brings. We will all experience loss, pain, embarrassment, and shame; love balances this equation. It gives context and meaning to those experiences, and accentuates the good times.

When we suffer, love heals us.
When we triumph, love enables us to share.

When you smile, the world smiles back.
When you fight, the world fights back.

“Your mood is reflected on the faces of strangers.”

We take on the moods of those around us. Happiness, anger, and fear spread like a contagion, jumping from person to person, mutating and growing stronger. This transmission forms the core of interpersonal relationships and is the basis of our survival as a species. We look at our tribe and make quick assessments. Should we run or fight? Welcome or shun?

The sense of self is an illusion.

When we introspect, we see that there is nothing stable to hold onto. Our moods, thoughts, desires, behaviours, and opinions constantly change.

“Who am I other than constant change?”

Turn the camera inwards and observe for yourself. Watch the thoughts come and go. Notice how you did not choose the thoughts that came, nor the thoughts that replaced them. They just appeared and disappeared of their own volition. Watch, and see how emotions, memories, moods, and other mental phenomena arise.

Where are they arising from?