Nobody LIKES guilt, but many of us have it.
Sort of like an iPod.
Knowing in advance that I needed to write this column, I kept track during the week of my numerous occasions of guilt. Disappointingly, perhaps, they are different from occasions of sin. My list of what makes me feel guilty includes the following:
—eating
—drinking
—sleeping
—talking on the telephone
—purchasing a copy of a tabloid because I started reading it on line at the supermarket check-out counter
—preferring People over The New Yorker (I refer here to the magazines, not to groups or individuals)
—actually despising The New Yorker, especially the coy little insider-pieces.
—reading my horoscope before I read the news
—not reading all of the news
—not flossing
—not wearing sunscreen
—not writing enough
—not exercising
—not meditating
—not gardening
—not having an organized closet
—not liking a movie recommended by a friend
—not wearing an outfit I bought last summer, having convinced myself that I could wear it year after year
—not letting my cats go outside, even though this is actually a wise decision since they would immediately be eaten by coyotes
—being wrong
—being right
—driving a non-earth-friendly vehicle
—purchasing coffee instead of making perfectly good coffee at home
—letting the water run so that it gets cold instead of having a bottle of cold water in the fridge
—dropping a paperback into the bath (while taking a bath, not as a critical comment)
—snacking on foods containing transfatty acids, or transacid fatties, or whatever
—waking up early
—going to bed late
—buying mascara
—hating — really, deeply hating — magical realism
—enjoying a cheeseburger
—not choosing to re-use towels at a hotel
—not sending a wedding gift in time for a bridal shower
—not sending a baby gift in time to a baby shower (different people)
—not sending a baby gift in a timely fashion to the grandchild of good friends (happily part of yet another family) to receive the gift before he starts elementary school. Or law school, for that matter.
—having written only half a sympathy letter to a friend whose sister died recently
—hating rhubarb
—when dialing a company or service, always hitting “O” on the phone immediately instead of “listening carefully” to the various options on the “menu which has recently changed” so that I get to speak to a live person
—being secretly glad that a male friend broke up with the long-term girlfriend I didn’t like even though I never said I didn’t like her
—snoring
And this is a list compiled by a woman who considers herself relatively guilt-free. From a woman who is FAR from being a perfectionist. This is from a person who has worked on ridding herself of guilt. Years of therapy. Medication. Workshops. By a woman who feels guilty for talking about herself in the third person and so will now stop that horrible affectation. A woman who will soon stop referring to herself in the third person.
That’s better.
Okay, here’s the tricky part: The idea of condemning yourself (or somebody else condemning you, causing you to accept their judgment and thereby “making” you feel bad) depends on the premise that you could have acted otherwise — that you could have behaved better. That you had a choice.
My question is this: Am I free to feel guilt about my poor record on flossing and the timely giving of baby-shower gifts, for example, while liberating myself from guilt concerning my instinctive dislike of rhubarb and The New Yorker? I cannot stop snoring or sleeping or eating, but I should finish that letter to the bereaved friend who won’t mind one bit if it is late (and accept that feeling silly is my embarrassment kicking in, not her disappointed expectations), and perhaps I should think carefully before buying another gas-gobbling car.
Maybe the two most important things to remember about guilt are that: 1. guilt is neither a substitute for behaving better nor an antidote for having behaved badly; 2. it is something one does to one’s self. Everybody knows the great line from Eleanor Roosevelt- “Nobody can make me feel inferior without my consent” — but it can also be applied to guilt —n obody can make you feel guilty without your consent.
Instead of feeling guilty, stop doing what makes you feel bad. Or learn that, since you cannot act differently (if, indeed, that is true and not just an excuse — see the “rhubarb” example above) then accept it and deal with it. Do not nourish your inner martyr — it’s not your best side.
