All posts tagged: Paradox

Coolness and Autonomy: The Paradox of Trying Too Hard

Coolness and Autonomy: The Paradox of Trying Too Hard

On the set of The Thomas Crown Affair, director Norman Jewison became increasingly frustrated with his star actor Steve McQueen. Jewison kept imploring him to play the role with more visible charisma, more swagger. McQueen refused. He underplayed everything. He let silences hang. He did less when the script called for more. Jewison’s frustration reportedly reached a boiling point just before he watched the dailies. It was then that he could see that McQueen, by refusing to perform coolness, had become the most magnetic thing on screen. It wasn’t a technique or performance. He seemed constitutionally uninterested in trying to impress anyone, and that particular quality, that specific absence, turned out to be the thing nobody could look away from. We recognize this dynamic instantly when we see it. The person at the party trying too hard to seem indifferent, the band making a show of not caring about record sales, the startup founder who won’t stop telling you how little they care about what VCs think. An obvious attempt to seem cool and detached …

The Paradox of Taking Breaks

The Paradox of Taking Breaks

“I just feel so overwhelmed,” I sigh as I hit the couch. It’s been a long day, and I still have dinner to make, an attempt at a workout, and a cat to medicate before bed. The inner pull to sink into the couch and rest is countered by an anxious energy that says I must keep pushing forward. Fearing I might fall asleep or lose momentum if I rest “too long,” I start to stand again. “That’s it?” my husband asks, and pats the seat next to him. “It’s OK to take a break,” he says, as he pulls up a gym fail video—a surefire way to get my attention. My internal parts are at odds—wanting to relax and wanting to finish the to-do list for the day—and now they’re mixing with a part that doesn’t want to disappoint my sweet husband. “One video,” I agree, knowing it will likely be three. After a while, I’ve settled into the rhythm of making dinner, which doesn’t feel so arduous after a little rest. My husband’s …

The Sensitivity Paradox

The Sensitivity Paradox

I was always a big, strong kid, but not a tough one. That was partly because my well-meaning father, who was a pacifist, essentially told me to turn the other cheek: “Just walk away,” was his advice for handling bullies. Which was fine, but didn’t much help in the dog-eat-dog world of my primary-school playground. Being a big, sensitive boy made me a magnet for the gang of kids who terrorised me, making my 11th year a truly horrible one. Throughout that awful, traumatic year, I hated my dad for giving me such terrible advice. And I hated my sensitivity, wishing I could be like those tough kids, who were always the bullies, never the bullied. Throughout my childhood, I longed to be something other than I was: harder, cooler, more confident. Not the insecure, introverted child and adolescent fate had deemed me to be. As I trained in psychotherapy and began seeing clients, this jaundiced view of my sensitivity gradually changed. I came to welcome the gifts my highly sensitive brain and nervous system …

The Paradox of Inner Wealth

The Paradox of Inner Wealth

In the vast literature on human fulfillment, few questions prove as persistent—or as persistently misunderstood—as the source of what we might call inner wealth. Why do some people radiate a certain fullness of being while others, often despite immense external success, describe themselves as empty or impoverished in some essential way? The conventional answer, deeply embedded in our modern therapeutic culture, suggests that inner poverty stems from insufficient reception: We weren’t loved enough, recognized enough, or validated enough. We are taught that to feel “full,” we must be “filled” by others. However, those who have stood at the threshold of life—those who have undergone near-death experiences (NDEs)—frequently tell us something strikingly different. When they undergo a life review, they don’t evaluate their journey by how much they received or how often they felt “good.” They don’t ask if they were sufficiently validated. Instead, they ask a much more piercing question: “Was I good for something? What was I good for?” They measure the weight of their lives by what they shared and sent out into …