ZZZzzzzzzz…
OK, I admit it: the last post read like a snooze-fest. I wanted to highlight key Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) concepts that helped me get past unproductive thinking habits. Yet after FeedBurner sent the essay to my email inbox, I found it so boring I gave up on my normal re-check! No wonder the piece garnered no comments and prompted a small number of readers to unsubscribe.
To give us all a break, I’ll shift to other subjects for awhile after exploring one important distinction: the difference between values and goals.
According to ACT, a value is an aspect of life we want to nurture. Examples include: family, friends, work, spirituality, aesthetics, and play. Note the generality of these categories, and the diversity of manifestation. Family might mean tending children, parents, or pets. Work might be pursued by performing surgery or volunteering at a homeless shelter. Spirituality could suggest Roman Catholic mass or contemplation under a tree.
A value is the direction, while a goal is a destination. As an analogy, I might choose to head west from my home next to San Francisco Bay. Perhaps I’d drive an hour to reach the Pacific Ocean. Or I could sail a boat to Hawaii. Or maybe I’d fly to Tokyo. “Going West” could be achieved in any number of ways.
It is possible to pursue values ineffectively. One doesn’t make westward progress by driving from here to Mexico. While many of us want to help those in trouble, we sometimes end up doing harm rather than good. Mindfully listening to someone in pain offers support and compassion. But advice, while usually well-intentioned, is often poorly received.
We can always progress toward our values, no matter our limitations. To head west, all I need to do is walk a little westward. One can be an affectionate spouse (value) with a simple smile (goal).
Note that a value is never exhausted. I could travel west forever, round and round the globe. Supporting our friends (a value) is not something we finish, the way we might complete an errand for someone ill (a goal). There is always more work to be done and fun to be had. Of course, at some point we run out of energy and time. We die. So pursuit of values ends, but not in the sense of polishing off a task.
Nor is our quest toward value about leaving a permanent mark; all our works eventually will be forgotten. We build meaning into our lives for its own sake.
Look at the big picture: the sun will expand as it burns up its fuel. Eventually, “the Earth will plunge into the core of the red giant sun and be vaporized.” Science fiction notwithstanding, there is little chance that humanity will escape physically to other planets, except perhaps as well-shielded, frozen embryos. All the glorious work of civilization will be lost, at least in material terms.
To the cynical, this might seem futile, or even absurd. Why strive, day after day, if all comes to naught? It sounds like Sisyphus, ever pushing his boulder uphill only to watch it roll down again. But isn’t this the nature of life? Each spring new flowers bloom that are destined to wither and die. The promise of every birth ends in death sooner or later. The cycle of fertilization, germination, maturation, and deterioration never ceases. All that activity generates the lush, fecund beauty of our biosphere.
Albert Camus concludes his classic, The Myth of Sisyphus, with these words: “One must imagine Sisyphus happy.” His meaning is more bereft of optimism than mine (he is arguing for absurdity, which precludes hope), but the reasoning is similar: satisfaction demands we move something, despite inevitable collapse and decay.
Maybe our endeavors will be preserved as cosmic memory, embedded in a quantal microstructure (or the Mind of God, depending on your preferred terminology). But we don’t need to believe this to continue our lives. We romance, raise children, build bridges, and play music because Life asks this of us.
A necessary event in the Universe’s formation was what’s called symmetry breaking. I have only a vague notion of what that means, but it shows that we live in a fundamentally fractured world. The brokenness breeds vitality. We pick up the pieces not because there’s hope of repair, but because we love them.
Pursuit of values is not endless toil; it’s eternal dance.
>> Share on Facebook>> Tweet

1
Dave Moss at http://YourWebsite
Thanks Will -
I was planning to re-read your last blog. I could tell it was rich with educational information. I have been bogged down with work and tax preparation. My wandering/wondering mind is very challenged with accounting, managing, organizing, structuring my business and personal home responsibilities. I want to go wander/wonder in Pt. Reyes today – but no – I must slog through this tax, accounting, organizing mess! Oh, I try to keep it together and “handle” my business. It just aint easy! Oh well, I see I am whining on your blog — sorry blog readers!
I will keep in mind that this process is not an “endless toil; it’s eternal dance.” Excellent quote! I plan to steal it! OK?? This Blog will help me soften my emotional reaction to my organizational challenges today and beyond. I also so appreciate your idea of “brokenness breeds vitality.” I suspect I will be even more open to the awe, wonder, beauty and mystery of Pt. Reyes (maybe later this afternoon even) after I slogged though this accounting mess and remain mindful that I so value having my own business and the freedom it offers that this appearance or feeling of “endless toil” is really only part of my “eternal dance.”
One of my favorite books – “The Spirituality of Imperfection” reminds me that whatever my “Spirituality” is – it certainly must learn to perceive, accept and embrace living life out of paradox. We are not either/or but “both/and” Both Saint and Sinner! I am both anxious and agitated about this tax accounting mess AND I am a spiritual wanderer/wonderer in the Pt. Reyes wilderness. Today I shall try for “both/and” – and be OK in it! Thanks my good friend – Grateful Dave
Posted at March 4, 2012 on 11:52am.
2
patrice at http://patricemj.wordpress.com
I’ve been a little busy, but I read yesterday’s post just now and really did get a lot out of it. I couldn’t agree more that learning to tolerate distress is probably a better goal, for some, than trying to manage/avoid anxiety.
I’m glad you talk about your life without your mom. Sometimes talking about this stuff on a blog can be difficult…but I so appreciate your doing it as I lost my parents when I was young and it’s hard. Tonight I am in a bit of a funk about it, but I do believe that I will feel better tomorrow.
Posted at March 4, 2012 on 9:57pm.
3
Trabel at http://YourWebsite
Well, it’s not toil (shame on those who taught us it’s toil) ; it’s dance.
The gist is to tune in the rhythm of life by the moves that suit you .
And while sometimes it feels comfortable to turn in the same circle with the same moves again and again, there are moments when the swing of the dance or our own moves carry us to new territories.
Then we may pick up those pieces that were chipped away from us and fill up the rifts … to step onto new dance floors and see some more of the beauty of life!…
Posted at March 5, 2012 on 9:48am.
4
Wendy Love at http://depressiongetaway.com/
Will,
Another insightful post. I appreciate the depth you go to in your essays.
My name is Wendy Love and I appreciate your blog and read it when I can.
I am also a blogger http://depressiongetaway.com
I have linked to your blog on mine and am asking if you would be willing to do the same?
You can reach me at wendylove1950@gmail.com
Posted at March 5, 2012 on 12:15pm.
5
Will at http://willspirit.com
Hi Wendy–
I just visited your blog and it looks valuable; lots of useful information and perspectives. I will return for a longer look before long. Sadly I must admit that I “don’t get around much.” Not nearly as much as I should, though that will change soon as I free up more time in my life. More than happy to link to your site. Thanks for the comment and the request.
–Will
Posted at March 6, 2012 on 9:04pm.
6
Will at http://willspirit.com
Trabel–
Lovely take on the post. Thanks.
–Will
Posted at March 6, 2012 on 9:05pm.
7
Will at http://willspirit.com
Patrice–
Thank you for the comment; every once in a while I do tend to whine when no one notices me. Still got work to do, I guess. It always seems like people most appreciate the personal touch in my writing. When I left my surgical career due to neck disease, it precipitated two psychiatric hospitalizations. When I went to apply for disability, Workers Comp, and so on, many agencies, insurance companies, and attorneys obtained copies of my psychiatric records with all the gory details about my past. Even before then I was pretty free about discussing my history, but ever since I’ve felt comfortable revealing my childhood and mental life online, since so many strangers have already dissected it.
It’s important to try to remember that moods, thoughts, and feelings are always changing. No mental state lasts forever. I hear that insight in your comment.
Blessings,
–Will
Posted at March 6, 2012 on 9:12pm.
8
Will at http://willspirit.com
Hi Dave–
As we discussed, after I recently heard you mention that book (The Spirituality of Imperfection), the title stuck with me. It worked its magic on my brain and in many ways prompted the above post. I am waiting for the library to deliver it to my local branch, so I haven’t read it yet, but the title alone is very, very rich.
Warmly,
–Will
Posted at March 6, 2012 on 9:15pm.
9
Elaina at http://ptsd-is-normal.com
Hi Will,
I poured out so much of my heart on your post-before-last, that I felt over-exposed, so I stopped reading and commenting for several days. Not just here, but I stopped writing on my own blog, too. I have a tendency to be an all or nothing person.
Yesterday, for the first time since I wrote about my scary ambulance ride at the end of January, I published a new post on my blog. Then today I finally felt ready to come back here. I just now read your last post, this one, and then today’s post, all in one sitting. I actually got a lot out of your previous post, particularly as I have recently finished reading “Things May Go Terribly Horribly Wrong.”
I actually copied part of your previous post which I intended to to paste into a comment there, but after reading this post, I decided to put my comment here.
You said, in your previous post: “I want friendships and my policy of avoidance was preventing them. So I began to reach out to others despite the self-doubt, fears, and bodily agitation that often resulted. I developed new behavior patterns that weren’t rigidly controlled by a rule that promised safety but delivered isolation. This led to anxiety in the short run but confidence and community over the longer term.” Yes! That is precisely where I am in my life, today. I am sick and tired of the safe, but lonely isolation…. yet fearful and trembling every time I leave the shelter of our little house and venture out into the broken world. It isn’t easy, but I’m doing it, in baby steps. Tomorrow morning I am going to try to go to church with my husband. It’s something I want to do every Sunday, but I’ve only managed to go to church about a half dozen times, in the past 6 years. Why did I stop going to church 6 years ago, when I loved it so much? The short answer: losses, grief, rejection, misunderstandings, and various painful trauma-triggering setbacks along the road to healing and enlightenment; in other words, Real Broken Life keeps getting in the way.
But I am picking up the pieces because I love them…. yes…. I like that.
I do not have a place for comments on my 2 blogs, because I have been targeted in the recent past by a couple of online stalkers and haters. This means that when I post, I never have any idea if anyone is actually reading it or would care enough to comment if they could. It’s sort of like I’m talking to myself. Which is kind of weird, but for now, for me, it’s OK. Someday I may go back to allowing comments, but I know I’m not ready to be that brave, not yet. For me, part of ACT means assessing and accepting, without judgment, my strengths and my limitations, and simply allowing myself to Be Me.
This is one of the reasons why I like coming here. I get an answer, from someone other than the echo in my own mind. I feel safe here. I can’t imagine anyone unfollowing you because of your previous post! Good grief. Well, their loss.
~Elaina
Posted at March 10, 2012 on 6:36pm.