Truth or reality is avoided when it is painful. We can revise our maps only when we have the discipline not to avoid pain and effort. To have such discipline, we must be totally dedicated to the truth, not partially. That is to say, we must always hold truth, as best as we can determine it, to be more crucial, more vital to our self-interest, than our comfort. Conversely, we must always consider our personal discomfort relatively unimportant, and, indeed, even welcome it in the service of the search for truth. Mental health is an ongoing process of dedication to reality at all costs. What does this life of total dedication to the truth means? It means, above all, a life of continuous and never-ending stringent self-examination and honesty with oneself. — M. Scott Peck, from “The Road Less Traveled,” pp. 50-51
Try just for a moment to accept the possibility that you are not as mentally healthy as you might normally assume. That you are, in fact, perhaps rather mentally unhealthy, out of shape, that you are perhaps more unstable than you’d like to consider, that you are actually confused, lost, living in denial. That you lie to yourself—sometimes so frequently, so naturally, so effortlessly—that your thinking has, as a result, become so distorted and unconsciously motivated by avoiding difficulty that you can never trust your thinking or yourself; nor even your emotions; because everything about you conspires to mislead you.
This is the situation for any and all of us who have been living a life more dedicated to comfort and the path of least resistance than to truth. We live this way for so long that we no longer have any difficulty in fooling / hoodwinking ourselves and convincing ourselves at every opportunity when given the choice between a difficult right and a less difficult wrong, that what we are choosing is the difficult right—and we’re SURE of it!—even though if we are more dedicated to comfort and the path of least resistance than to truth, we are again in all likelihood choosing the less demanding wrong, as we have almost always done before.
Moreover, consider whether you might not actually prefer your current state of mental unhealthiness over mental health, and not simply because you are indeed mentally unhealthy, but because being mentally unhealthy is easier and less demanding than being mentally healthy, and that the demands of mental health are too great, too daunting for you—that living a truly conscientious and virtuous life, that living with emotional self-control, living with real love and appreciation and goodness and generosity, living with real perspective, living in a way that truly recognizes that you and those you love could actually die at any moment—that living in alignment with all of this is just simply too demanding, too painful, too taxing, too unsettling, too effortful for you.
And so you are mentally unhealthy because of it—because it is an easier life, even though it’s one filled with unhappiness, voluntary self-crippling and self-sabotage, cowardice, lies, deception, rationalizations, distortions, confusion. All of this is easier than and preferable to facing your fears, overcoming your weaknesses, making amends, feeling shame and guilt, going back and correcting past wrongs. It’s easier just to stay on the wrong path, the easy path, and continue on and keep shuffling.
Intuitively, I think we all recognize at some level what mental health actually means: ultimately it’s about growing up and facing reality. And equally intuitively, we all recognize and fear what actually doing so might actually do to us–it might overwhelm us, undo us, cause us to have a nervous breakdown. In the words of John the Cougar Mellencamp, “Growing up leads to growing old and then to dying, and dying don’t sound like that much to me.”
So why voluntarily put ourselves through the equivalent of a heart attack or major psychological catastrophe in the prime of our life when we don’t have to, when our deepest desire is to live long and die without ever knowing so while sleeping? Why put ourselves through the wringer psychologically and emotionally just in the faint hope of genuinely growing up, waking up, and transforming our lives completely and irrevocably?
I think we all recognize at some level that the largest part of truly growing up means facing our own and others’ mortality squarely, meaning in a way that costs us emotionally, a way that will forever change or alter us and how we treat life and others and ourselves. If we truly face death and “die while alive” we will be forever altered.
Yet few of us however are willing to fully submit to this, to this knowledge and to these demands. Why? Because it seems to be the surest way to suck the fun right out of life.
Few of us are willing to let the knowledge of our own and others’ mortality reach a critical mass in us because doing so is difficult, not fun, and runs completely contrary to our self-preservative tendencies and want of ease and comfort and to be settled and have some sense of “peace.”
In fact, truth be told, we are likely to do whatever we can and need to do in order not to let this knowledge reach a critical mass in us. We will do whatever we have to to keep this knowledge under our control, clamped down in a box. Which means, as a natural consequence of this, we will continue making choices in life that suggest that we think that we and those around us that we care about have all the time in the world.
And in so doing we begin failing at the art of living.
And the art of loving.
Mental illness or mental unhealthiness is at essence a way of trying to illegitimately deal with our immense and inordinate fear of death and dying and emotional pain and suffering. Our fear of death is so large, so intuitively terrifying and unsettling, so potentially overwhelming, that avoidance, denial, not listening too closely or too carefully to our conscience—to that still small voice in us, to our soul—and instead giving into fear again and again, are the only alternatives we are left with.
If we are unwilling to face our own and others’ mortality, then we are left with leading a discursive self-centered life of distraction, avoidance, self-numbing, comfort, ease, hiding out from life and love, a life of continual petty little ego projects and meaningless self-aggrandizement and dissipation.
Either we dedicate ourselves to truth and reality at all cost, which means invariably “racing out beyond all lesser dangers” and wrestling with that single biggest danger of all—our own (and others’) mortality, brevity, and fragility. Or we opt for comfort and the path of lesser resistance whenever we sense the truth or reality to be too frightening, too overwhelming, too difficult, too demanding, likely to cause too much upheaval, and we end up unwittingly dedicating ourselves to mental unhealth and to preserving what’s worst and weakest in us.
And, in doing so–in unconsciously pledging our allegiance to comfort instead of to truth and to necessary and appropriate levels of personal discomfort–we end up running the very real risk of forever turning our weaknesses into our sickness.