HOW TO MAKE YOURSELF MISERABLE
by Forrest Church
May 19, 2002
In recent months, and for good reason, in this church and from this pulpit we have been taking the world seriously. Indeed, one fair prescription for the good life is to take the world seriously and ourselves lightly. This morning I shall focus on the second part of that prescription. One of my favorite lines from all theology is G.K. Chesterton’s quip, "angels can fly because they take themselves lightly" (to which one might add that the devil fell on account of his gravity). I remind myself of this when my mind gets overwrought with petty difficulties. By way of an additional reminder, I came across Fred Moramarco’s Recipe for Unhappiness. You might recognize some of the ingredients.
1 cup
What is
1 cup
Inability to accept what is
3 Tbs.
Complaints
1 tsp.
Light whining
1/4 lb.
Alternate scenario(preferably unattainable)
1 bunch
Actual Reality
1 pint
Idealized worldview
2 tsp.
Perfection
4 sprigs
Envy (minced) for garnish
"In a large bowl, whisk together what is with an equal amount of inability to accept what is. Stir in complaints and let sit until brooding and sulking set in. Add a dash of light whining, especially in the company of friends, but be careful not to over season, or they won’t hang around. In a separate bowl, add alternate scenario to actual reality from your garden and separate leaves from stems. Then try to reattach leaves in exact pattern that existed before separation. Pour in idealized worldview and process in food processor. When mixture is puréed, add to what is an inability to accept what is. Blend. Add exactly 2 teaspoons of perfection and let stand until tears form. Garnish with minced envy and serve immediately."
Inspired by this fail-safe recipe, I’ve put together my own prescription for unhappiness–a little three-part formula that I absolutely guarantee will make you miserable.
The first part is easy. If you are anything like the rest of us, I expect you have developed over the years a sure-fire talent for undermining your confidence and belittling your abilities by selectively comparing yourself to others.
For instance, you have a co-worker who is enormously creative. Overlook the fact that she has just broken up with her fifth husband, has a "little" problem with alcohol, and is on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Forget all that. Simply measure your creative capacity against hers and feel deficient.
And then there is that friend of yours who is always the life of the party. You know of course that he is incredibly insecure. No matter. He is always the life of the party. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be the life of the party sometimes?
And then there is your rich next-door neighbor. Just look at him. He has everything anyone could ever want. Admittedly, you’ve never seen him smile and he barks at his dog. But how happy you would be with only half his money!
You may not be prone to playing this little game but I expect that most of us are. We select out the finest traits and talents of everyone we know, fashion a composite, measure ourselves against it, and come up sorely wanting. Thus it is that we arrive at my first piece of sure-fire advice on how to make yourself miserable:
Covet your neighbor’s strengths, but overlook his or her deficiencies.
To accomplish this to perfection, you must put all your friends’ and neighbors’ strengths together. Weigh your own in the balance, despair at your own weakness, plainness, poverty, incompetence, and general all-around unattractiveness. And then, resolve to reform yourself utterly until you are at least the equal if not superior to your composite perfect neighbor.
That, of course, is only the beginning. Having taken my first piece of advice to heart, you must dutifully attend to my second and third. Let’s say you are getting along pretty well in most of the areas of your life. You are a pretty good parent. You are a pretty good friend. You are a pretty good lover. You do passably well, perhaps quite well, at your work. You tend to enjoy life. You find time to support your church (we thank you very much!) and help your neighbors. You are a fairly good citizen. You keep up on current events and participate in little ways helping to make this world of ours a better world.
Well, forget about all that. I’ll bet that you haven’t put in a good two-hour work-out in the gym for weeks. Or that you don’t know nearly as much as you pretend to about wine. Or that you’ve never climbed a truly significant mountain.
Forget about those things that you enjoy doing and tend to do quite well. Think instead of something that you have no aptitude for whatsoever. Fix upon that as your ultimate goal in life. You will never reach perfection if you simply keep building upon those things that you happen to be good at. You must stop deluding yourself.
For instance, let us assume that you have a fairly good job, a normal (that is to say somewhat comfortable and somewhat difficult) relationship with those closest to you, whether spouse, parents, children, co-workers, or friends. Let’s say you have a bit of a paunch, a receding hairline, and a number of typical 21th century neuroses. Face it, your life is not perfect. So why not take the plunge. Start jogging 10 miles a day, get a hair transplant (after looking terrible for a month or two, you will simply look weird), or run off with your secretary. Better yet, mortgage your home or sell your car and go into partnership with that brilliant fellow with the deal of a lifetime whom you met just the day before yesterday.
Satisfaction, fulfillment, wealth, love and true happiness are waiting for you just around the corner. But to achieve them you must take my second piece of advice on how to make yourself miserable.
Overlook your achievements. Instead, focus upon one or two prominent wants or weaknesses. At the expense of everything else, become obsessed by them.
However promising, these tried and true practices alone are insufficient. If you are to excel unto death as a dyed-in-the-wool martyr (and thus join today’s fashionable majority of life victims), you must incorporate into your philosophy the following two adages.
For instance, let us say that you have a bad temper. Or are lazy. Or procrastinate. Or eat too much. These are things about which you could perhaps do something. Accordingly, it is of paramount importance that you rationalize your inability to do anything about them. Try ascribing your powerlessness to fate, the damage inflicted upon you by your parents in childhood, or the inexorable forces of modernism, the economy, evil incarnate or whatever. After all, if you tackle some area of your life that you can, in fact, do something about, you might succeed. It is important from the outset therefore to eliminate such objects from your quest.
On the other hand, there are certain things in our lives we cannot change. Try to change these things. For instance, if you are somewhat plain, aspire to eye-popping beauty. If you are well-educated, long for the simple pleasures of rusticity. If you have trouble balancing your checkbook, dream about running your own business.
The finest jugglers among us will find a way to finesse both of these adages simultaneously. Hence, my third piece of advice on how to make yourself miserable.
Stoutly remain fatalistic with respect to all flaws, deficiencies and foibles that might actually be corrected if only you would put your mind to it. At the same time, set impossible goals for yourself and try to meet them.
In both instances, you will end up a martyr, in the former by succeeding and in the latter by failing. I’m talking, of course, about perfectionism. Perfectionism is the perfect vehicle for ruining your life.
The good news is this: You can make yourself miserable by following but a single one of these three rules. As for myself–just a tip–I find it most effective to alternate them. But who am I to offer you any gratuitous advice on such matters? After all, try as I might, I’m not perfect either.
One final thought. I put it at the end in hopes that, when the fluff of this sermon has blown to the winds, you might occasionally remember to ask yourself, "Why is it that, having failed in our every attempt to achieve perfection, so many of us remain unable to forgive others their imperfections?"