Free agency.

Before Lent started I had been revisiting some self-help books from far back, when I was losing weight, or on-and-off trying to, and struggling with a constant onslaught of impulses that I could barely handle.  

One concept that I tried to wrap my head around, and didn't manage entirely, was the concept of accepting my own freedom of choice. 

I tended to insist on controlling myself and in forbidding myself freedom, rather than allowing myself freedom to choose, and then freely making the choices that accord with my long-term intentions.  But although this ended in the weight loss I sought, it didn't really make me "better" underneath.  I was and am still dependent on iron-fisted self-control, on slavish adherence to routines and numbers; I still waver between poles of triumph and panic.

Honestly, I think I succeeded the most in overcoming my underlying eating disorder when I came closest to doing this in reality, even if I never would have put it in so many words.   When I was saying to myself, "I don't do such-and-such anymore" instead of "I can't do such-and-such anymore."  Because although the improved health and strength of my body is an important metric for my success, it's not the only metric.  How things are inside my head, how I view the freedom to make choices; above all how much mental space and effort I allot to something that should really only occupy a small part.  

I'm trying to break the dependency on control, or at least it was what I was trying before Lent, and it's been difficult.  I'm trying to get away from thinking, "I have to stop... I have to change... I have to do things differently..." and move towards truer things like:  "I could choose to satisfy this momentary urge, or I could choose to experience it--without satisfying it--for the sake of working towards a longer-term intention." 

It's difficult.  I've barely scratched the surface of this dependency.  But I'm convinced it would be a healthier place than I've been for the past few years, and as much as I am struggling, I don't want to give up.  And at the same time since one of my real goals is to think about it less and not more I am worried that trying hard is counterproductive.

+ + +

I'm not sure that any of that made sense outside my own head, but let me move on anyway:

  It occurred to me this morning that maybe it's not just about food and exercise, but about so many other things that loom up to me as a kind of duty or obligation. 

I cannot count how many times a day I think to myself, "I have to..." when... I don't have to!

Maybe it's time I acknowledge the choices I in fact have?

+ + +

For example, take this one:  I have to get dinner ready by four-thirty today so it'll be done before I have to leave to take the boys for camping.

True?

Well... I could neglect to make dinner at all.  I could work on something else instead, or lock myself in my room and read a novel right up until it's time to leave. 

And if I did?  Would the world come to an end? 

I could, then, call Mark at work and say, "Listen, I didn't get dinner ready in time."  And he would suggest something:  that he could make dinner when he got home, or we could order carryout, or I could make a quicker soup and open a box of crackers, and the only consequence would be a somewhat later dinner.

I don't have to get dinner ready by four-thirty at all.

I could stop making dinner, period.  I don't have to make another home-cooked meal.  We could live on chilaquiles, delivered pizza, peanut butter sandwiches, and frozen entrées.  Mark and the children could cook more.  Mark and I could eat at restaurants more often, while I let the children make bags and bags of frozen pizza rolls at home.

I'm not going to do this.  I know I'm not going to stop making dinner.

But contrary to what I've been telling myself, it's not because I have to cook dinner every night.  It's because I choose to.  (And, arguably, because most of the time it's what I really want to do.) 

I could choose something different.  I could choose a lot of possible somethings-that-would-be-different.  A lot of those somethings would be objectively worse choices than I have been making.    Others would be completely acceptable and okay, and some might even be better.

I am lying to myself every time I say I have to cook dinner.

I'm freer than that.

+ + +

Or take the second part of that.  I have to drive the boys to their drop-off point so they can go camping this weekend.  

I don't actually have to do this.

I could call Mark and say "I changed my mind.  I'm not driving the boys across town this afternoon."  Then he could decide whether he wanted to leave work early and do it himself.  

Let me point this out:  I'm sure that would not be pleasant for him.  He'd be baffled as to what would have come over me.  (If I had done such a thing for a reason, such as having suddenly been taken ill, though, he'd adapt---that is one of the things that proves to me that I don't have to do it.)  He might even be angry, although I think baffled is more likely because it would really be unlike me.

And if he couldn't? or chose not to?  If that in turn caused the boys to miss their campout, they would be upset.  And some of the other boys on the campout, adults too, would be seriously inconvenienced, since one of my sons is supposed to be in a leadership role at the campout and others would have to scramble to make up for his absence.

I'm not going to decline to do what I promised, what others planned around.   It would be wrong to do so without a sufficient reason, and I don't have such a reason, and I don't want to inconvenience people, upset them, or go back on my promise.  These are reasons that I will do what I said I would do.

I'm going to continue choosing to do it.

It's not a have to.  

+ + +

I'm not sure what the point is of all this.  I think I need to think about it and meditate on it some more.  

I could see it going a few different ways.

First of all, let's acknowledge the great freedom that I have due to the privilege of my position.  Nearly all the constraints I feel myself to be in, from moment to moment, are imaginary constraints.  I have enough disposable income, and time, and various kinds of privilege to arrange my life as I see fit.  I don't really have to in the way that many other people have to do certain things, because I do not really find myself in any situation where the best alternative paths are frightening, dangerous, or irreversible.  If I grind myself down with "have to" is it not an insult, of sorts, to people whose "have tos" are more real than mine?

Second, maybe I should give myself--and by extension, other people--a little more credit as a relatively free agent, because only as a person who makes choices am I able to exercise love.  I don't often feel myself to be a loving person, a person who chooses love; and while it is a mark of humility to recognize one's failures to act in love, it doesn't strike me as a mark of humility to falsely deny love and the opportunities for love where they really are.  If I tell myself that I have to make dinner for my family, and I believe that, then doesn't this become the real reason that I make dinner?  But if I were to really acknowledge that I don't have to, can it become a free choice?  A really free choice?  And then do I acquire the ability to do it because I love them and I choose love?  Is this a necessary part of the "little way" of doing even our smallest duties as an act of love?

Finally, as a practical matter:  "Have tos" keep me from seeing possibilities that could be objectively better than the one I have pre-chosen.  It's not sensible to restrict oneself by false "have-to"s into a preplanned course of action, when circumstances change all the time and we ourselves, the planners, are fallible and can't always choose the best course from the beginning.  At any moment some better course of action might come along, and just  think what we lose out on when we are needlessly fixed on false have-tos.   For one thing, we might miss out on many opportunities for charity when we  say to ourselves, "I can't stop, I have to keep going."

+ + +

It's just a thought, still rather unformed.  I'm not sure where I'm going with it.  But one thing I think I say too much is "I have to figure out what I'm doing before I start." 

"I have to know the end before I begin." 

It's simply not always true.

Comments

[Meredith]

I get this. I would like to make my own self-talk more positive so that I can be more positive when I speak to the people I love. A big chunk of that is changing "I can't do (something I'd like to do)" to "I choose ___". Another switch for me is dropping the verb "struggle." (I struggle with emotional eating, I struggle with sloth.) I no longer want to constrain my days with can'ts and struggles. The Beck Diet Solution has helped me reframe some of my language. Thanks for sharing!

[Penelope]

Yes! Positive self-talk, Christ-centered self-talk ... these are things I've been discussing with my teens in these early days of Lent ... Fasting from unhealthy eating and exercice habits ... Life long challenges for sure ... I truly apprecate you sharing your thoughts and experiences in this arena. Thank you :-)

[Jamie]

Please keep blogging about this as you figure it out.

[MrsDarwin]

I hope you'll find it encouraging, and not "run away!" alarming, if I say that you're on your way to living in my head. It's not that I never need to know my end before I start, but that I never mind improvising. And I don't know whether it's a gift or a curse, but I have a talent for paring tasks, schedules, etc., down to the bare essentials and then not worrying about more than that.

Mostly related: have you read The Four Tendencies by Gretchen Rubin? I don't remember if we'd talked about it, or if Mark would dismiss it as more personality hoodoo, but I found her analysis of how people deal with obligations to be helpful to me in figuring out how to get things done. (I'm an Obliger, which anyone could have told me.) The quiz, and more reading, is here: https://gretchenrubin.com/2015/01/ta-da-the-launch-of-my-quiz-on-the-four-tendencies-learn-about-yourself/

[Kate Cousino]

This is very much in line with some things I've been thinking about.