Attitude Isn't Everything

What is attitude?

Attitude is the psychological condition resulting from a judgment or belief regarding life, a situation, a person, a group of people, or an event, past, present, or future.

Obviously, since it is based on a belief or perception, attitude is subjective. Attitude falls into the category of psychological thought and perception.

Beliefs based on past experiences create an attitude. Beliefs such as:

·      School sucks. It’s a total waste of time and I’m only going because I have to.

·      Life sucks. I’d kill myself, but I don’t have the guts.

·      Life is awesome. It’s all about having fun.

·      Life has a purpose. I have a purpose: to bring love and peace to everyone.

·      I’m here to become enlightened.

·      Step aside, just passing through...

If you’re not completely present and without psychological thought, then you have an attitude.

Attitude is Up to You

An attitude can be “positive” or “negative.”     

     

A negative attitude can be bad for your mental and physical heath, and it can be bad on many practical levels as well.

I mean, let’s say you’re trying to take your kid to soccer and it’s rush hour. On rare occasions, traffic is so horrendous, you get there a little before it’s over.

Negative Attitude: What’s the point of trying to get there? I’m going to use up a ton of gas and if I get stuck, I’ll have wasted a good hour and a half and my boy won’t even get to kick a soccer ball.

Positive Attitude: We’re going to get there on time, no matter what. If there’s a traffic jam, I’ll trust my GPS to find a better route.

Often people with negative attitudes tell themselves they’re just being realistic. They believe a pessimist is just an optimist with experience. They believe they’re being realistic because more often than not, it appears that when they do the worst-case scenario thing, the worst case always seems to be the outcome. A believer in the law of attraction (see description below) would likely say it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Ultimately, the truth is that a realistic attitude is actually not realistic at all. It’s not what really is. The reality of the present moment is completely without judgment. It is void of psychological thought and therefore without any attitude whatsoever.

For those times that we are not present, however, we are bound by judgmental, psychological thought; we must believe in something. This is the common human condition, and in this state, it is just as much a self-deception to perceive something as being positive as it is to see it as something negative.

And your attitude projects upon the outcome of the events in your life. If you feel what you are doing is important and worthwhile, it will be so. Therefore, why not choose to feel that way?

Attitude and Success

Successful people need only one thing to become successful: they must believe they are successful. 

That’s all it takes.

Of course, believing yourself to be successful is not easy. Most of us have to go through a career or two, earn a ton of money, make the headlines, or achieve at least one major thing society has conditioned us to believe is the hallmark of a successful person, in order for us to believe we are truly successful and not just going through some new age mood-making deal that won’t last past lunch.

Once we truly believe we are successful, the associated successful-person attitude will follow naturally. This successful attitude will tend to direct successful outcomes to our actions.

Success, however, is completely subjective. To one person, success is having a ton of wealth and material possessions, and to another, it’s complete detachment from the material world.

In fact, you don’t have to do anything or achieve anything to be successful. All you have to do is believe that you are successful right now and you will be. Since in the final analysis, we define what is success.

While most of us accept society’s definition of success, we must first believe in these definitions in order for them to become real to us. Of course, society makes it easy to accept its definitions. There are maps to success out there, paths to follow, methods to learn.

Gyms to condition our bodies, schools to condition our minds. All so that one day, we can be considered successful.

Whether you choose to believe in society’s version of success or your own, your perception and beliefs will generate your attitude. 

So why not align yourself with a positive perception of success that suits you best and could lend itself to better mental and physical well-being?

Attitude and Being In Love

When you’re in love, you feel wonderful about everything. In that state, negativity is not allowed to rear its ugly head, especially when it comes to the person you love. You just see the beautiful things. And sometimes this attitude spreads and everything seems beautiful, even things that others might find ugly. People in love tend to enjoy a better mental and physical well-being, placing jetpacks on the whole positive attitude deal.

Attitude and the Law of Attraction

The law of attraction is a belief that states that by focusing on positive or negative thoughts one brings forth corresponding positive or negative results.

This isn’t a post supporting the law of attraction. There seems to be a certain degree of validity to this line of thinking, in my experience, but I believe that law-of-attraction followers tend to take it to extremes, like it’s some be-all and end-all solution to life.

My experience is that unless you can be present and free from psychological thought, you will eventually tire of the lie—even if it is a positive, happy lie. The practice of letting go of psychological thought, be it positive or negative, breaks the cycle of good and bad, and removes attitude and judgment from the experience that is life.

Final Thoughts on Attitude

If you must believe, believe in something positive and enjoy that positive attitude. Then let it go and just live.

Now.

No judgment. No belief.

No attitude. 

Paying Attention to Intention

My Take on Intention

Intention is the driving force that motivates us to choose a thought and follow it. It directs activities and other thoughts, as well as attitudes and choices.

Ready, Fire, Aim

Are we always aware of our intentions when we take action or speak?

I’m not asking about those situations that require instant action, such as a frying pan on fire, a burglar trying to get into the house, or a car skidding out of control. Obviously during such time-critical emergencies, wasting even a split second considering the intention behind a course of action would cause “analysis-paralysis,” and in emergencies, that could 

be fatal. Besides, usually in such cases, the intention is both simple and obvious: survival!

Emergency and time-critical situations aside, I often do things with energy and drive without really understanding the intention behind my actions, and at some point, I end up thinking, “Why the hell am I doing this?” Or worse, I never even ask myself that question.

Speaking without thinking is acting before examining the intention behind a thought on a smaller scale. Not adequately engaging the brain before engaging the mouth has gotten my size 11 foot implanted firmly in my mouth on more occasions that I care to count. I end up asking myself, “Why the hell did I just say that? What was I thinking?” Answer: “I wasn’t.”

This happens when I kid myself into believing that I have to act or speak immediately when in fact there is time to think. That or I latch on to a thought, the motivating force is intense, but I just don’t bother taking the time to examine it, and I just act. Or, if I do examine the thought, it’s only after the fact, and I’m already experiencing the consequences of my actions.

It’s like setting a course in some direction—because at first glance, it looks good out there—and then simply hitting the gas pedal. My mind just focuses on driving onward, on steering the course that I’d originally set, but in this tunnel-vision mode, I have no big picture. Why am I heading this way? Where is it I hope to arrive?

It’s frightening how easily I can just set a course with no clear destination in mind.

The Lie We Tell Ourselves

Sometimes I think I know why I’m doing or saying something, but because I haven’t spent the energy required to really dig deep into the motivating force that made me latch on a thought and act upon it, I give myself some immediately apparent reason which, while true on the surface, doesn’t hold up against the scrutiny of time.

In 2004, I remember listening to a cleverly crafted message on my answering machine. The Toyota dealership asked that I contact them about my 2002 Corolla.

So I called and spoke with a car salesman. He said we should discuss options for upgrading my 2002 Corolla since my lease was expiring next year. Again, crafty wording.

I had never leased a car before, so I wasn’t sure if I was obliged to go to the dealership or not. I had the feeling he was trying to push a deal on me. After all, I did have another year on my lease. And if I really had to be there, why wouldn’t he just say so directly?

He asked if I’d like to set up an appointment.

Each passing second of silence on the line was making me more uncomfortable. The man was waiting for a reply.

It was one of those situations where I didn’t give myself time to think. I let myself believe I had to give the salesman an answer immediately, otherwise he’d realize I was hesitating and he’d somehow have the upper hand.

Ridiculous reasoning, since my answer was, “Okay, when can I come over?” So I’d basically gave him what he wanted in the first place, in order to delude myself into believing I was in control.

This was the lie that was lingering somewhere in the background of my mind: I am obliged to talk to this guy, because my lease is expiring, so I might as well get this over with now.

First let me explain that I’m not a dimwit, though at times I certainly act that way. Often, my unexamined thoughts are appallingly stupid.

If I’d taken even a few seconds to think about my real intention, I’d realize that I was in the mood for window-shopping. I wanted to see if this guy really did have the deal of a lifetime waiting for me on his lot. So I was setting a course for Unnecessary Expenseville at a time when I was in over my head in debt and had to work overtime just to make my monthly payments.

A few moments of introspection would have revealed that my intention was not aligned with my long-term goals (keeping my sorry butt out of the poorhouse), and I would have asked the salesman the obvious question, “My lease doesn’t expire for another year, do I have to come to the dealership now or can it wait until then?”

Anyway. I didn’t ask that question. I went to the dealership, which, by the way, was a forty-five minute drive from home, and got talked into paying $300 more per month to trade in my 2002 Corolla lease to buy a 2005 model.

Again, I could have examined the my intentions before handing over my credit card. Did I really intend to by a car? Wasn’t I here to discuss my obligations vis-à-vis the lease? Only a few minutes into our conversation, it had become clear I didn’t have to do anything for another year if I didn’t want to. So why was I hanging around at the negotiating table with this guy talking about buying a car? He was a pro; I wasn’t. In fact, I was the quintessential impulse-buyer, a car salesman’s wet dream.

I spent most of that day guided by an unexamined thought, and the lame intention that had motivated me to follow it. An intention that went completely against my goals.

So by not probing deeply enough, by not being honest with myself, there was a disconnect between what I told myself the reason was for going to the dealership (I had to because my lease was ending) and the real reason for going (window-shopping). Consequently, the result of my actions was not at all aligned with my goals.

Letting Go of the Steering Wheel

Sometimes I examine a thought, see the initial intention behind it, and then I adjust the thought so it’s more aligned with my goals, but I don’t maintain the constant energy required to keep that revised intention in focus. I lose track of my intention in the forest of other thoughts and actions related to that original thought. When that happens, I have let go of the steering wheel. There’s no course correction, and I usually end up heading in the direction of the initial unexamined, unmodified intention.

Let’s say I’d examined my intention when I’d called the dealer and he had suggested I come see him. Let’s say I asked him the question I should have asked, and he replies saying I have no legal obligation to see him, but he has a deal of a lifetime that probably won’t be available if I wait to the end of my lease because of depreciation of the car I was leasing at the time. In this case, I’d adjusted my original intention from window-shopping to doing what is necessary to keep above water financially, but failed to maintain my focus on the modified intention and ended up window-shopping once again, my budget be damned.

Understanding Intention and the Big Picture

So let’s say I’ve examined a thought closely and I understand the true intention underlying my thought.

The question is: “Now what?”

This is where your big-picture goals come into play. Is the intention behind this thought I just had aligned with my big-picture life goals?

It probably isn’t. In fact, most of the time my initial intentions are childish and downright embarrassing. But the thought can be adjusted and re-examined.

Let’s say I’m on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, off the west coast of Europe and my goal is to live in Manhattan, New York.

My intention is to end up in New York. But initially, I just thought of heading west. Now I see I’m heading south of course and would end up in Panama.

Now that I know what my initial intention was and I’ve adjusted it so that it’s aligned with my goal of living in New York City, all I need to do is make a slight course change. And at that distance, the course change is deceptively small.

So I modified the thought just so, in order for the intention to be aligned with my life goals.

Often, the action can appear to be the same, but the intention behind it differs in a subtle way. That subtle difference is huge, however.

Action: A father invites a young lady, his son’s tutor, to a café for a chat.

Intention 1 (Mr. Nice Dad): Learn about what progress his son is making with his lessons.

Intention 2 (Slimeball Dad): Nail her.

Maybe in order not to feel too guilty about his real intention (getting laid), Slimeball Dad lies to himself with the thought that he actually cares about his son’s progress.

The girl might be young and really pretty, but she’s not inexperienced with men. She knows what’s really going on in his mind, whether he’s aware of it himself or not. He’s asking her about his son and algebra, but he’s looking down a very different bra. And, what is that smile on his face? And why did he arrange to meet when his son and wife happened to be on a trip?

Mr. Nice Dad’s true intention would also be evident. On the surface, the action of going out for coffee appears to be the same, but the intention behind creates results (such as body language) than give away the true reason behind the action. It is this intention that will either vindicate the actions of Mr. Nice Dad, or put Slimeball Dad in deep shit with his wife one day.

(Okay yes, I did marry my son’s tutor, but it didn’t happen the way you think. I never took her out to coffee. In fact, we didn’t hook up until almost a decade later.)

No Intention and the Unexpected

Sometimes I act without any intention behind my action. Especially when I’m not attached to psychological thought and I simply act. This is different from acting impulsively on an uninvestigated thought. This is acting without thought.

Sometimes I have a clear intention in mind, and the outcome is completely unexpected.

To use the above example, let’s say something completely unexpected happens to Mr. Nice Dad as he’s talking with his son’s tutor and he falls in love. He doesn’t realize it at the time. His intentions are planets apart from falling in love with a young girl. It just happens.

When the Truth Comes Out

Sometimes the truth comes out immediately. In the example above, Slimeball Dad’s intentions become immediately apparent because of his body language and what he talks about when he’s with her. (Like how could a girl so young looking as her possibly be old enough to tutor his son, instead of talking about the boy’s difficulties with algebra.)

Other times, the truth isn’t revealed until much later. In the case of Mr. Nice Dad, his original intention, his concern for his son, is important, because years later, people might accuse him of taking the girl out for a coffee because he just wanted to get in her pants. But the evidence is on his side and as I mentioned before, the truth has a way of making itself apparent. Maybe he didn’t wait for his wife to go on some trip. Or maybe his wife was actually there, sitting at his side, at the café.

Conclusion

Knowing your true intentions is important on many levels.

The intention behind action tends to affect the outcome of your action. By examining intention and making sure it is aligned with your long-term goals, and by remaining focused on your revised intention, you will tend to attract situations that create results in harmony with your goals.

It is also important so that no matter what the outcome, your intentions are aligned with your belief system.

Action without purpose is not the same as action based on unexamined psychological thought. In fact, many of life’s most beautiful experiences come when action is without purpose or when the original intentions and the outcome are a complete surprise.

Decisions Suck

The older I get, the harder it becomes to make decisions, and the more I hate having to make them.

Is it just that I have more responsibilities than when I was younger? Not really. I was married with a child when I was twenty-two. So no.

Is it that life is simply harder now? That’s silly. It was tough as hell back then, just like it always seems to be. No. That’s definitely not it.

The problem is my experience. That’s an odd way of looking at things, right? Most people think that having a lot of experience to draw from is very helpful when it comes to making crucial life decisions.

Perhaps. To some extent. But all the experience in the world is not going to predict the future, and that’s kind of what I try to do with my experience. I compare the past to an imagined future. I paint a “realistic” picture for myself. And that picture looks a lot like William-Adolphe Bouguereau’s Dante and Virgil in hell. This happens with every option available to me.

And that brings me to the second problem that comes with age: I keep coming up with more options and each additional option make my decision that much harder.

I miss how I just knew what had to be done when I was younger. It wasn’t easy, don’t get me wrong: I’d typically make impossible choices and then break my sorry butt trying to reach the goals I’d set for myself. I’d raise the bar way beyond reach, sometimes out of sight. But once the decision was made, I never looked back. It was just a matter of how I was going to make my goal into a reality. I was single minded, focused, and extremely driven. My ex-wife says I was obsessive. Whatever.

Be that as it may, I made very tough decisions easily and I never looked back.

Today? Well today I’m not the same. My values have changed. For most of my life, I sacrificed family for career. Trying always to make family a close second to whatever I was doing, and always not quite succeeding. Because if you want to really excel in something, there’s very little room for anything else. That’s just the sorry way of things. There are 24 hours in a day and most of us spend a third of that time sleeping.

So here I am, stuck at the crossroads, so to speak, with the parking break set. Only there aren’t just two paths. No sir. There are a ton. Because I can think of many options. Many many options. I didn’t used to probe my options very deeply. Now I do. I think way into the future, drawing on years of experience to fill the canvas with the darkest of possibilities.

You can look at anything anyway you like. Having a Ferrari can be the coolest thing ever or it can be a major burden.

Really?

Sure. Look at is this way: you’ve got a Ferarri, but now you’re worried if you’ll be able to make the payments, if the damned thing will appreciate like the dealer promised or if you just bought yourself into financial ruin. And forget taking those hot wheels for a spin. What if some truck spits up a rock and scratches your ride? Where can you park a car worth the average three-bedroom home with a swimming pool without worrying about it getting stolen? And in this economy, you can’t even sell the damned thing and try and at least get your money back. A Ferrari? No thanks, buster. Not unless it comes with like a billion dollars.

And we’re talking about a Ferrari here. Not one of the typical bleak options I come up with to those impossibly difficult decisions that keep popping up.

I want to be like I was when I was younger. But I’d have to wipe my memory for that. One thing I’ve still retained, however, is the ability to never look back once I’ve decided on something.

But that’s kind of problem, isn’t it? I mean, I have to be so damned sure what I’m doing is the best option available to me that there’s no chance I’ll look back. And I’ve simply been through too much to be able to con myself into believing that so easily.

So I sit there, in the middle of the road, trying to take in the beautiful view. Trying not to panic about the traffic that’s piling up behind me. Trying to live in the now, and all that jazz.

But the reality is that setting the parking break while I keep going over my options again and again is a decision in itself. It is always now, as Eckhart Tolle astutely points out. At the same time, as Mona Lisa Vito said in MY COUSIN VINNY, “My biological clock is ticking.” Ain’t that the truth.

I’m not twenty anymore. Sorry. I know it’s a shocker, but there you have it: I’ve got four kids, two dogs, and two mortgages—responsibility up the wazoo.

So I’m getting older here just studying my options. And with each passing minute, the people waiting for me to decide (the cars behind me, if I’m sticking with my metaphor), are growing more and more impatient.

The excuses that I’ve been giving over and over again such as: “I don’t want to do anything I’ll regret.” Or—and this is my all-time favorite—“This isn’t just about me: I’ve got a big family and many people’s lives will be affected one way or the other, so I can’t afford to make a mistake,” are growing old, and people don’t want to hear them anymore. Hell, even I’m sick of the bullshit I tell myself.

Maybe I should take a lesson from the younger me and just release the parking brake and floor it. At least that way, all I’ll be worried about is steering and I’ll be driving too damned fast to ever look back.

It is just me or are you also starting to feel it’s getting harder making those tough decisions?