Friday, November 20, 2009

Karass

We Bokonists believe that humanity is organized into teams, teams that do God's Will without ever discovering what they are doing. Such a team is called a karass by Bokonon "If you find your life tangled up with somebody else's life for no very logical reasons," writes Bokonon, "that person may be a member of your karass."
Kurt Vonnegut Cat’s Cradle


Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry.
The Catcher in the Rye


The more I talk to people about the substitute pattern, the more I learn that, at one time other another, all of us have been the substitute person. When we can talk about this, share our stories, and even perhaps laugh about this, we can perhaps begin to free ourselves from the shame that threatens to swallow us when we don’t have the chance to share these feelings.


In considering this idea, I though about Yalom’s description of one of his group therapy exercises. In a nutshell he would ask everyone in a group to write down their deepest fears and insecurities, and then he would read them anonymously aloud to the group. You know what he found? That essentially these fears were all the same. All of us have felt unlovable, inadequate, and inferior at some point in our lives. Rather than look at this as a curse of the human condition, perhaps we can see it as a kind of strength. Because these feelings are so universal, they can also be something that helps bring us closer together.

This idea was why I included the quote at the beginning of this essay from Kurt Vonnegut’s wonderful book Cat’s Cradle. Some of the greatest human interactions I’ve ever had with other people came from strange and seemingly coincidental meetings with people that I wouldn’t normally cross paths with. Each time this has happened I stop and ask myself, is this person a member of my Karass? It always makes me smile, and usually I make a note to point this out to the person, and more often than not they are also familiar with Kurt Vonnegut and have actually heard the term before.

I point this out because our tendency is to surround ourselves with other people who look like we do, but in doing so we may miss some wonderful opportunities for understanding. Perhaps if we all challenge ourselves to meet at least one strange and new person each day, we would be much richer for the experience.

My hopes in writing this book would be that substitute people from all walks of life would begin to band together and shout from the rooftops that we are here, we are surviving, and that we matter. Is this going to happen? Probably not. Still, I firmly believe that if we can talk about and explore where these feelings come from in our lives, we can diffuse a great deal of the inadequacy that comes from being a substitute person. In my perfect world there would be support groups and meetups for substitute people to talk and laugh and drink and dance together, but again maybe I’m being too optimistic.

So what can we do? Although I hated to advocate therapy in each and every case, I do feel like it can be a wonderful start in rebuilding one’s sense of worth. You might think I say this because I am a therapist, but that is not the truth. I have been in therapy myself and personally undergone this rebuilding process. Probably the most important thing I emerged with was an ability to laugh at myself and my problems, without it being mean-spirited and hurtful. There is a significant difference between self-deprecating and self-attacking, and it a line I’ve found through many years of personal exploration.

We can read. A few recommendations I would suggest, are The Road Less Traveled, by M. Scott Peck, I’m Ok, You’re Ok by Thomas Harris, and Living, Loving, and Learning by Leo Buscalgia. These are all older books that I return to again and again when my own substitute pattern flares up. There are dozens of others, several of which have been mentioned throughout this book that might help.

Most of all though I think we can stick together. It has been my experience that is at least as exhausting to try and pretend we are without feelings of inferiority as it is to constantly remind ourselves of them and silently live with them, but really, neither is a good option. As Terrence said thousands of years ago, “I am human, therefore nothing human is strange to me.” Let’s not pretend anymore that we are above each other and exist on some kind of higher plane because of the quality of our clothes, cars, appearance, or any of the other thousands of things we use to categorize ourselves as different from one another. It doesn’t work. Not really. Not in terms of self-worth and feeling a sense of belonging.

In conclusion, if you have ever felt like a substitute person and wondered if you were the only one, please be assured you are not. Rich, poor, black, white, men, women, it truly doesn’t matter. As a therapist I can assure you people from all walks of life feel like this and they are just as hurt, lonely, and eager to meet someone who feels like this as you are. Give them a call. Ask them out for coffee. Get a group together and go do something fun and silly. We are all a little miswired and broken. Have all anguished about not fitting in, and have all wondered if we somehow were missing the parade everyone else was marching in. To feel like this is to feel human. To connect with others who feel like this is and to share this vulnerability is a scary and frightening journey, but it is also a major key in maximizing this short and strange trip we are on, and living it with a shared sense of purpose.

1 comment:

Neftalirr said...

I'm not going to lie. I wrote this before I started to wonder if anyone else felt the same. It's impossibly odd that we used some of the exact terminology...and when I found your blog, now a year fallow, I thought I'd let you know that you captured something visceral about a new segment of society.

(and we're not all middle children)


"The Substitute People"
I'd love to couch this in the language and lives of others. I'd love to talk about the substitute people as though they were characters in a movie, placeholders in a plot that's taken in $26 million over its lifespan. It'd be easier. because then I wouldn't have to notice how much my life is the blueprint for the prototypical substitute person.

It's a fancy term. I've used similar before. Temporary. Panacea. Crutch. I've used them all and all apply, albeit in different ways. But what else would you call someone who's keeping the seat warm, the schedule filled in, or the superfluous responsibilities met...all for a short while, until 'substance' replaces substitute?

It's not an unusual place. More than a few writers and poets (Cameron Crowe, Chuck Klosterman, e.e. cummings, Jane Austen...yes, I read Austen still) have identified with the substitute people. They've cataloged countless tales of woe, always quick to belittle and demean the role of the substitute and only occasionally lifting them to the coveted role of "never substitute". In their introduction, they make these poor souls endearing in their endeavors, charming in all they provide, loyal to an impossible fault...

And as dismissible as a misfit toy.

All of that to say, in my own words...have we met? My name is ______. I'll be your substitute friend/confidant/romantic interest/provider/tech support/comic relief/secret-holder/resource/love for the duration of your stay here. I do certainly hope your stay is pleasant and you enjoy all that I have to offer. Please don't mind about your eye being on the door, poised to run at any moment, I'm just glad for any time/role/love I can glean from your stay. I do so hope it helps you with your goals, to get you where you are and serve you in the best possible way.

But...just once...wouldn't you just once stay longer than it takes for the thing you're wating for to come along? Just once, couldn't I be enough for you?

Oh it sounds all so melodramatic...until once considers my job, my personal life, and my history. Nothing much stays. Nothing much sticks around. Not in a substantive sense.

You see, I'm a waystation. A hospital. A recovery spa. A layover.

A substitute person. And I've never, in all my days felt more like one.