Sending my brain into a spiral of unkindness

During a particularly depressing low point in my unemployment, riding the subway was dangerous for me.

Not because of the poor air quality, germs on the seats, disease carrying rodents, slippery platform edges or potential assault and battery from mentally disturbed passengers, but because of my fellow commuters going to work.

That’s what sent my brain into a spiral of unkindness. Some regular guy would be sitting across from me, reading his newspaper, going about his typical workday routine, and the thought tumbling through my brain was this.

That guy has a job, and I don’t, so fuck me. His job probably isn’t perfect, but at least the guy has a building where he can go to, every day, surrounded by other people, where he’s useful and earns a salary and supports himself and his family.

Unlike me, who is utterly bored, lonely, hemorrhaging cash and has nothing to contribute to the world. Fuck my life.

These are the irrational thoughts that flooded my brain. My essential worth as a human being was determined by whether or not some company sent me a paycheck every two weeks.

Have you ever gone through one of those chapters in your life? Where everything around you was a reflection of how you’re a complete failure?

It sucks to high hell. And to make matters worse, you pollute your inner life with these unloving, unkind thoughts, berating yourself up for not measuring up to a societal standard of what it means to be a successful person.

Stutz epitomes this mindset in his book about courage and willpower:

The sun is still shining, but for the person under the cloud, it doesn’t exist. There is no joy, only negativity. He’s bent over by the heaviness of the dark world this thoughts have created.

Fortunately, there is a way out of this mental mess. We can choose to recalibrate our basic relationship with the universe and teach our brain that the world is more abundant than we thought.

In my case, that couldn’t mean never taking the subway again. Rather, it would have to mean changing my inner dialog anytime the ghost of comparison tried to steal my joy away.

Reminding myself that my inherent value is solid and unique, despite how my work situation matches up with the imaginary stories I tell about the strangers on the train.

Marianne writes about this phenomenon in her book about divine compensation:

The universe registers your true substance, your true seriousness, and your true purpose. Your life has no less value if you’re not employed as the world defines it. If you’re kind to people, if you’re compassionate, if you pour your excellence into whatever you’re doing, then you’re doing the job you were here to do. From that will emerge the next form that’s needed to host the energies you’re bringing forth.

Next time you start comparing your unemployed self to somebody commuting to work on the train, consider the fact that they might be staring at you thinking, that guy doesn’t have to go to work today, and I do, so fuck me.

LET ME ASK YA THIS…
What’s your favorite way to be unkind to yourself?