As someone who has never met a watery feeling I couldn’t hyper-intellectualize for sport, I need music to keep me honest. Music is my emotional compass — an exacting truth catalyst that, without mercy, smokes out unacknowledged or otherwise intentionally buried feelings from their hiding places within my psyche.
For example:
I Am the Unknown by The Aliens helps me tap into my purpose, my why. Listening to it feels like I’m throwing myself off a cliff in the most exhilarating way possible. I feel like I can do anything.
La Danse Macabre (or “the Dance of Death”) is a profoundly agitating and energizing classical piece that pushes me to confront what my deepest desires, primal instincts, and ambitions are. It makes me feel alive in a way that is visceral and, admittedly, a little scary.
Why do I do this? If there’s one thing I detest, it’s allowing myself to be held hostage by my own emotions. So, I choose to be proactive and constructive. I throw jarring truth parties with a violent soundtrack, where my attendance is mandatory. And it is in these private moments, I meet who I truly am.
Is it painful sometimes? Yes. But it’s necessary.
For years, I believed that to feel intensely about anything or anyone is to be out of control. It required a level of vulnerability I deemed an existential threat to my autonomy and psychological safety. But I’ve learned over the past year that the real threat to my ability to feel in control is this act of repression.
It’s like thinking you can hold onto a fistful of sand without ever letting even the tiniest bit slip through your fingers. It’s impossible to do it, and you’re lying to yourself if you think you can.
It takes so much energy to pretend. To live these insidious emotional lies we tell ourselves.
“I don’t feel this way." Yes, you do feel that way.
“I don’t want them.” Nice try. You want them. Badly.
“I’m fine with how things are.” No, you're not.
And then, inevitably, something comes along and jolts you, compromising your ability to hold on, to not slip up. Lack of sleep, stress about work, a fight with someone, sudden news that upsets the status quo, an unexpected change in a relationship dynamic you didn’t see coming.
In a flash, your firm grip on that sand is brutally disrupted. You flinch. You lash out. Those hidden feelings and desires you've been denying suddenly take the wheel, and you don’t act like yourself.
You lose control, and you know it, and you hate it. So, you increase the grip you have on that sand. You exert more force, more energy, more focus. Then you applaud yourself for being such a noble picture of self-restraint.“I won’t let that happen again,” you think to yourself. But you’re wrong. It will keep happening.
Your willful ignorance of whatever truth you're denying won't make it any less true. Your only choice is to own it.
Of course, your version of achieving this kind of emotional clarity might look radically different than mine. Music may not be your best pathway inward.
Maybe your catalyst for experiencing the purest forms of emotional expression is physically pushing your body to the limit. Or maybe, rather than being a consumer of art (like music), you must create art to see what it is that’s living inside of you. Or maybe you just need five uninterrupted minutes of some honest-to-goodness peace and quiet, with no one bothering you or needing something from you.
I don't care. Just do whatever you need to do to create a private, controlled moment to discover your own innermost desires and truths. Then, when one comes flying out of its cage, finally free from the shackles of your own self-deception, resist every urge you have to try and push it back down.
Let it show you what it is. Let it show you what could be if you dared just this once to redefine what you believe to be possible for you.
This is your chance, without external pressures or prying eyes, to finally see what it is you want in vivid technicolor. This is your chance to meet who you truly are, as well as who you can become.
🌟 "I really don't want to answer this question."
It's not easy to admit when we're lying to ourselves, but it's necessary. By being honest with ourselves, we align our actions with our true values and beliefs, leading to a greater sense of self-respect. It also helps us confront uncomfortable truths and reduce internal conflicts.
In this episode, George introduces us to the Superhuman Framework, a set of 10 pillars that help individuals build a life beyond their default. Each pillar represents a key aspect of personal growth and development, and they all work together to create a strong foundation for a fulfilling life.
In this episode, George and I explore the role of humor in our lives and how it can be used to hide old resentments or mask uncomfortable discussions. We also get very personal on the ways in which we've used humor as a way to shield, deflect, and earn affection ... at a very steep personal cost.
🗣️ What Smart Folks Have to Say
"Self-deception is nature; hypocrisy is art." — Mason Cooley
"We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more from imagination than from reality." — Seneca
"The easiest person to deceive is one's own self." — Edward Bulwer-Lytton
"The first principle is that you must not fool yourself, and you are the easiest person to fool." — Richard Feynman
"Self-deception is a pessimistic definition of optimism." — Theodor Reik
đź’€ It's Funny Because It's True
Sometimes we don't need advice. Sometimes we just need to lighten up.
I am decidedly #7, what about you?
Until next issue! đź‘‹
Liz Moorehead
Co-host, Beyond Your Default
P.S. Questions? Feedback! Wanna say hi? Reply directly to this email!
George B. Thomas, 7002 Farm Pond Road, Indian Trail, NC 28079, USA, 330-232-6117