Selfish
I have a loving, caring friend, call him Greg, who has a long-time friend, call her Mildred, who, in a fit of hateful anger, described Greg as selfish and self-centered and said some ugly things. Greg was so hurt and enraged that he vowed never to speak to Mildred again.
I told Greg that Mildred was right. (Let that sink in.)
It’s not that my friend is any more selfish than anyone else, only that we’re all selfish. Every human being seeks pleasure and avoids pain, and nothing — absolutely nothing — is more important than that. Everything we think and do stems from those completely natural, genetically-based desires. Seek pleasure; avoid pain. That’s our primary objective — every single one of us. That means you. Me too. To think you’re not selfish invites unnecessary self-shaming and unreasonable guilt when the reality of it rears its ugly head.
We like to think of ourselves as generous and kind and loving. You can be, of course, but those characteristics are trained, not inherent. A baby isn’t automatically generous or kind. No baby is. You weren’t, but you think that a good person is inherently kind. Sorry, but it’s precisely that myth that causes relationship problems and pain, the very thing you’d prefer to avoid.
Mildred doesn’t understand that concept, or she would know that her accusations of Greg are true, but they’re true of everybody, including herself. In fact, in her rage, she hurt Greg deeply, but the pleasure of expressing herself was more important than the pain she willfully caused. Now I’m sure that Mildred was acculturated to be kind and probably is kind more than not, but her action illustrates dramatically that she’s just as innately selfish as the person she’s accusing. Mildred, like you and me, thinks she’s an instinctively, inherently good person, and that her goodness comes from the bottom of her soul, not from training. She’s living in a self-perpetuating dream that probably she’ll never give up. It gives her pleasure.
We need to face reality if we want to live with compassion among others. We’re good because we’re trained to be good. We care about others because we depend upon others and learn to care and love, and when the ones we care about thrive, it brings us pleasure. Other things bring us pleasure, like great food and sex and a successful bowel movement. Still, as social animals, the success of people we love is extremely pleasurable, almost as much as our own successes. Almost.
There are people in countries foreign to me who are starving to death. Lack of nourishment will kill them — definitely. I could save many of them, probably hundreds, by selling my house and starting a company to generate resources to feed the starving millions. I won’t. I’m selfish. My comfortable home is more important to me than saving thousands, maybe millions of lives and substantially reducing suffering on the planet.
If you’re reading this, you’re probably in much the same position. Sure, you’ll drop a coin in a blind person’s cup from time to time, but you could do so much more. You won’t. You’re selfish, because you’re human. It’s an innate trait of human beings. Are you finding this hard to hear? Your inner voice is screaming, “No, no, no-oooo! I’m a good person!”
OK, but being a good person takes willful behavior — and training. It’s not about who you are; it’s about who you will yourself to be. It takes courage to face reality, to stop feeling guilty and to stop blaming others for being just like you.