Half a Life: Dealing With Guilt

"My internal climate was a hurricane alley. Emotions blew through, downing power lines, hefting cars onto roofs, destroying the finish. Low treas, dead wood thrown across traffic. That's the force of guilt for you." -- Darin Strauss


In Darin Strauss's remarkable memoir, Half a Life, he brilliantly describes the slow, agonizing grind of living with--and overcoming--crippling guilt.


In his case, the guilt was caused by a car accident that left a classmate dead. Though it was no fault of his, he spent nearly half his life (hence the title) coming to terms with the event.



I've come to believe that guilt is a universal experience, as quintessentially human as breathing and eating. Everyone regrets something. In Darin Strauss's case, it is a specific event; for others, it may be a more diffuse sense of human guilt over simply existing, being alive.


No emotion is as noxious, as corrosive, as destructive, as guilt. While healthy guilt (over genuine wrongdoings) reminds us not to repeat the offense again, the unhealthy variety eats us up from the inside, like acid, burning its way through the depths of our soul.


It doesn't stop until it has burned us to a crisp--or itself.


I have no easy answers. No magic pill, or self-help technique, will make your guilt disappear. I wish it were that simple, but it's not. Guilt is evil, and it HURTS, and it's quite real.


But there are ways of dealing with it. The important thing is to feel it.


Enter a meditative state in whatever way works for you. Then, open yourself to your guilt.



(NOTE: because this experience is so powerful, it is best done under the guidance of a qualified counselor)


Feel the guilt fully. Let it run its course, screaming wildly, banging its pots and pans of accusation.


Now, do something that will drive it nuts: gently, with compassion, ask it a question: "I am here. How may I be of service?"


Usually, the guilt has no idea how to respond. It flickers uncertainly, unsure of whether to continue its course of conquest or to retreat.


Then--LISTEN TO ITS ANSWER.


It may be that nothing will change. Or, suddenly, you may gain an insight into your guilt that it has been waiting to share with you. You may find something else underneath all that guilt--sadness (as in my case), or some other underlying emotion.


Or, the guilt may not change at all.


Either way, listen. Learn to respect your guilt, and to view it with compassion and love. It, too, suffers.

"Things don't go away. They become you...But we keep making our way, as we have to. We're all pretty much able to deal even with the worst that life can fire at us, if we simply admit that it is very difficult. I think that's the whole of the answer. We make our way, and effort and time give us cushion and dignity. And as we age, we're riding higher in the saddle, seeing more terrain."

Guesthouse of Despair

"Depressive psychosis is the extreme on the continuum of too much necessity, that is, of too much finitude, too much limitation by the body and the behaviors of the person in the real world, and not enough freedom of the inner self, of inner symbolic possibility. This is how we understand depressive psychosis today: as a bogging down in the femands of others--family, job, the narrow horizon of daily dutues. In such a bogging down the individual does not feel or see that he has alternatives, cannot imagine any choices or alternate ways of life, cannot release himself from the network of obligations even though these obligations no longer give him a sense of self-esteem, of primary value, of being a heroic contributor to world life even by doing his daily family and job duties." -- ERNEST BECKER

Fear of death is a normal part of life--or so Ernest Becker believed.

Sadly, for those of us who struggle daily with depression, we are afraid--all too acutely--of life.

In each of us, an insidious voice whispers alluring lies...and, far too often, we listen and nod our approval.

You are worthless.

Your guilt will haunt you forever.

You feel terrible about yourself? Good. You should.

And, the kicker:

Why don't you just DIE? The world will be better off without you.

This last one HURTS. We scramble to respond with a self-reassuring platitude to pacify the demon. It works...for a while. Then, the voice returns, twice as loud, twice as angry...twice as false.

I have come to realize that the only way to transcend the death drive is to listen to it. Get to know it, as one gets to know a temporary guest.

Bring yourself to a state of meditative awareness.

Then, listen.

This lying voice--what does it sound like? Does it whisper or shout? Is it slick, grumpy, or frothing with rage?

When does it speak to you?

LISTEN.

After a while, something truly remarkable happens. The voice grows weaker, softer, less self-assured.

Want to really drive it nuts? Then do this.

Smile...and bow to it.

At that moment, the "voice" is often so stunned that it grows silent. When it finally resumes its whispering, its former power is somehow diminished.

And you...you suddenly feel a flush of sorrow and compassion for this lonely, frightened voice deep down inside, which rages and raves simply because it is so utterly alone and terrified.

When you feel love for it...it grows quiet..

So, as Rumi enjoined, love every guest that travels through your mind--but keep both doors open. Let them pass through, and send them off with a smile.

Try it--and please, let me know how it works out!