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I’ve been reading a confluence of books lately. On the surface they don’t seem to be about the same thing, and they aren’t. One is a marriage book, one is a self-help book on changing internal thought patterns, and one is a deep dive into the inner workings of the ego and how it interferes with deeper spiritual consciousness (titles at the end of post). But they are also all weirdly—or probably divinely—zeroing in on something I need. I tend to believe books find me when it’s time for them to be found. These three are creating a perfect storm of conversation to call for an internal shift. They are calling me on my crap and asking me to grow up.

Reading these books feels like when I walked into marital therapy thinking, yes I’m sure I’m contributing to the conflict, but it’s probably more like an 80/20% split of who needs to work on what, since I’ve been in therapy working hard for a decade already. Then there comes the day when you [and by you, I mean me] have a shocking epiphany that there are still whole layers of ways you’re not as differentiated and healthy as you think, and you have a whole lot more work to do too. *Cue deep sigh*

At this point I tend to throw a bit of an internal hissy fit, toting out the “it’s not fair” protest. I’ve already worked so hard. You’re asking me to work hard all over again? Really?! And what about that other person over there? Are they working this hard?! I might even get depressed and stay in my pajamas for a handful of days and start binge-watching Bones from my college years. But eventually—with a little self-compassion and support from people who love me—I come to the place where I realize no one can fix this but me. It’s my work to do, and I can either stay in my pajamas and feel miserable about it, or I can get up and start doing the hard work that is in front of me.

That’s one of the themes I’m getting from these books. No one else can do the work for me. I have to do it myself.

Stop Looking for a Savior

Don’t worry, I’m not talking about Jesus. I’m not trying to be heretical and asking anyone to drop their religion and become self-sufficient or godless. But I am inviting you to consider how many times during a day or a week or a year that you expect someone else to solve your problem. Or to put it another way: how many times do you feel internally upset or dysregulated and your automatic response is to believe that it’s something or someone else’s fault.

Eckhart Tolle, author of A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose, would say that this reaction in you is not the true you. It’s your ego. Don’t just think of pride when you read that word. The ego is your false self that thinks who you are is the sum total of your thoughts, memories, experiences, emotions, roles, and possessions. Tolle would say you are much more than that. Something deeper and divine and unshakable in your core. But most of us go through life unaware of that. We think we are our egos and the labels we give ourselves. But when our identity is grounded in what we do, how people perceive us, what we own, what we believe, or how we feel, then our identity is only as stable as our emotions, our possessions, our job, or even our theology. That’s a pretty precarious place to hold your well-being.

When any of these roles, possessions, thoughts, or beliefs are threatened by external circumstances or what someone else is doing or not doing, then our ego is what rises up and reacts, not our true self. When we lash out, it’s a sign that something in our ego has been activated. It’s a moment to step back, pause, and observe. Get curious. What is really going on here?

Tolle claims the true source of our suffering and unhappiness is from the ego.  He offers the following as versions of the story that our ego tells:

• “There is something that needs to happen in my life before I can be at peace (happy, fulfilled, etc.) And I resent that it hasn’t happened yet. Maybe my resentment will finally make it happen.”
• “Something happened in the past that should not have happened, and I resent that. If it hadn’t happened, I would be at peace now.”
• “Something is happening now that should not be happening and it is preventing me from being at peace now.”

Or here’s how it gets directed towards another person:

• “You should do this or that so that I can be at peace. And I resent that you haven’t done it yet. Maybe my resentment will make you do it.”

Reading these has been like a knife slicing to the core of my awareness. Both painful and illuminating. How many times does my inner peace seem like it hinges on my kids being cooperative and not emotionally dysregulated or screaming? Check. How many times have I told myself the health of my marriage is dependent on whether or not the other half of this relationship comes through and makes the choices I want them to make? Check. How many times do I fall into the trap of thinking that my writing will only be fulfilling if I accomplish a result (like publishing a book) and receive affirmation for the work (people wanting to read what I have to write). Check. How many times have I subconsciously lived out the thought that because I didn’t get something I needed at an earlier point in my life (a valid need) that I’m stuck and waiting until that other person makes it right? Check and check.

But what Tolle is essentially saying is that living from the ego is akin to living as a victim. If you have to continually prop up your ego, reassure it, manipulate others and circumstances to feed it, and live in anxiety when it doesn’t get what it wants, then you are a victim of your ego, and a victim of all the people and circumstances around you, things over which you don’t have any control.

What I Do Have is Control Over is Myself

Healthy boundaries say, I don’t have any control over what you will choose to do, but here is what I will do if you do _____.

I’ve had a steep learning curve with external boundaries over the past decade. But what I find so much incredibly harder is to put boundaries on my emotions and internal thoughts. In some ways, I think Tolle is saying I can put boundaries on my ego and how much it’s allowed to take over my life. Jon Acuff, author of Soundtracks: The Surprising Solution to Overthinking would say to tell yourself this: “The only person standing in my way is me, and I quit doing that yesterday” (153).

When I first entered marital counseling, our therapist said his main goal was to get each of us to a point where we could be okay in our inner being no matter what the other person was doing or not doing. He also has done a lot of prodding me to control my emotions. He doesn’t want me to suppress them or invalidate them. But he also doesn’t want me to let them run rampant over my life and cause a lot of suffering. It seems like him and Tolle are saying very similar things. Tolle claims that circumstances do not cause us suffering, only our reaction to them. But my first response to my therapist was, “That sounds great, but I can’t.” I literally believed what he was asking was impossible.

Some days I still do. But this confluence of books and other aspects of therapy are calling me on the carpet and asking me to grow up. It is possible what they are all saying. I can control my emotions. Not instantly. It feels like it’s going to take me decades to learn to fully embody what Tolle is writing about. But he also says the first step is just to notice. Here, this moment when my children are melting down and I feel irritable and snappy. Can I notice that’s how I feel and how I’m reacting? Can I notice that it’s my ego at work? Tolle would even say don’t try to change it directly. I can’t muscle my way into letting go of my ego; ironically that’s just more ego. But the first step is becoming aware. The very act of awareness creates space between me and my ego, and it begins to lose its power when it can no longer keep feeding on me unawares.

But I Still Want Someone to Rescue Me…

That drive to seek out an external savior is strong. Even when I think I’ve grown past it, I’m surprised to find it hiding in other layers of my life. I’ve spent most of my existence looking to some outward person or situation to help meet my needs or help me soothe or regulate. First it was my parents, then perhaps other self-selected mentor relationships. In some ways I transferred that desire onto my cult leader. Then onto my husband. Perhaps even other friendships.

It takes a lot of courage to realize that I married my husband in a season when he felt safe and secure and the opposite of a lot of the trauma I was still working through. So how much of the feel-good-fall-in-love of that season was me feeling relieved to have that external savior helping me self-sooth? We’re working on year nine of marriage. I’m not the same person I was all those years ago. Neither is he. In some ways, I’ve gained a ton of agency. But I’m also still expecting my husband to help me self-regulate. And here’s the thing. It’s not his job. It’s my job. Woof. Our therapist is helping us see there’s a big difference between compassionate support and emotional fusion or over-functioning. So is the marriage book I’m reading.

Over-functioning means when one of us is feeling dysregulated or upset, the other feels it’s their responsibility to make things okay again.

Compassionate support sounds like: “Wow honey, I can tell you are really struggling right now. Is there anything I can do for you?” With the internal understanding that it’s not mine to fix, but I really care about you. It lets the other person feel seen and cared for, while still leaving the burden of responsibility on the partner who owns that dysregulation. I don’t have to dysregulate because they are dysregulated.

So where does that leave me?

I have to parent myself.

I’m a grown up now. No one else is going to do it for me.

I hate this.

I love this.

I hate this because it means no one will come in and do it for me. I have to do all the excruciating hard work myself. I love this because it means I don’t have to be a victim of other people or circumstances. I can do it, even if no one else comes through for me in my life. I don’t have to stay stuck.

After years of therapy I’m finally getting a glimpse that it’s possible. There have been lots of times when I’ve had a therapist guide me in how to comfort a younger version of myself when we are working through a painful memory. But last week, something shifted. We were working through an intense memory that held a lot of pain and grief over what I had wanted at a certain point in my life and what I didn’t get. The individual I wanted something from was there in the memory and a younger version of myself. When we got to the point where I had processed a lot of raw emotion and seen both sides with compassion, my current adult self looked at my younger self and thought, I have the skills to give her what she needs. I didn’t then (in the past moment of time this took place), but I do now. The other person who I wanted to give me what I need couldn’t, but suddenly I realized I could.

That felt like a big deal. Like a kid who finally figures out how to ride their bike on their own and leaves the supporting adult standing in the driveway. I should probably let myself wear a big internal grin for that one and keep pedaling really hard.

My Reading Trifecta:

• Soundtracks: The Surprising Solution to Overthinking by Jon Acuff
• Passionate Marriage: Keeping Love and Intimacy Alive in Committed Relationships by David Schnarch, Ph.D.
• A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose by Eckhart Tolle

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Shalom.