Michael Jackson's close friend Uri Geller, talking to Fox News by phone after Jackson's death, said that one time when Jackson was sitting on a couch in Geller's living room, he asked the "King of Pop" if he was a lonely man. According to Geller, Jackson paused, then slowly looked up and said, "Uri Geller, I'm a very lonely man."
After decades of observation, I have concluded that Jackson's sad response could have come from any one of millions of people. A lonely person's giveaway is his eyes. No matter what happy disguises he may wear, his eyes betray him.
This brings back memories of John Belushi, Freddy Prinze, Andy Gibb, Marilyn Monroe, and, more recently, Anna Nicole Smith. We only know what we've read and heard about these tragic figures who were so revered by those afflicted with Tinseltown Derangement Syndrome, but what we've read and heard is pretty grim.
The truth about these false idols should give Americans hope as they watch the economy push them from false prosperity into poverty. While vacation cruises, golf outings, and fine dining continue to disappear from our lives at an accelerating pace, it's helpful to remember that material wealth has failed to buy happiness for many of the rich and famous.
And what they all seemed to have in common was loneliness. Who but the most narcissistic among us would not trade fame and wealth for love? The tabloid crowd provides a lot of laughs for folks at the checkout counters, but their marriage-divorce... marriage-divorce... marriage-divorce cycles are not at all humorous.
When I think of Angelina, Britney, Lindsay, and Madonna, I think of loneliness. All of them appear to be Michael Jacksons waiting to happen.
I recall a brief encounter I had with Sammy Davis Jr. in the early 1980s when we were sitting next to each other on the dais at a charity event in Los Angeles. He was a warm and gracious man with many similarities to Michael Jackson - African-American, slight of build, multi-talented, and a life of nonstop troubles. In a birthday tribute to Sammy, Jackson sang the heart-wrenching song "You Were There."
Years earlier, I had read Sammy's memoir, "Why Me?" It just as easily could have been Michael Jackson's memoir. In the book, Sammy was forthright about his addiction to a life of drugs, booze, chain smoking, kinky sex, and lavish spending.
One story, in particular, that I recall from "Why Me?" is about a multi-girl orgy Sammy had arranged to have set up in his hotel suite after a performance in Las Vegas. When he entered the bedroom, he found the girls already "engaged" with one another. He said it made him sick to his stomach, and he walked out of the room feeling like the loneliest man in the world.
But when it comes to loneliness, Elvis was The King. We've all heard his ex-friends talk about how, after every show, he would have parties in his hotel suite that lasted till dawn. The word from those closest to him was that he couldn't stand the thought of being alone.
It's no wonder that so many songs have been written about loneliness. People can relate. It's a common problem. More often than not, I suspect the songwriters and performers themselves feel very lonely.
Which brings me to Neil Sedaka. I don't know how much loneliness he may have experienced in his life, but he sure grabbed us with his classic song Solitaire:
"There was a man, a lonely man
Who lost his love, thru his indifference.
A heart that cared, that went unshared
Until it died within his silence.
"And solitaire's the only game in town,
And every road that takes him, takes him down.
While life goes on around him everywhere,
He's playing solitaire.
"And keeping to himself begins to deal,
And still the king of hearts is well concealed.
Another losing game comes to an end,
And he deals them out again."
Heavy words. Great songwriters write to a broad audience - and the audience for a broken heart and loneliness is very broad indeed. In the final analysis, perhaps all of us simply expect too much from life, thus setting ourselves up for disappointment when it fails to deliver the endless happiness we envisioned when we were young.
Nineteenth century German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer summed up this discouraging reality when he wrote:
"There is only one inborn error, and that is the notion that we exist in order to be happy. ... So long as we persist in this inborn error... the world seems to us full of contradictions. For at every step, in great things and small, we are bound to experience that the world and life are certainly not arranged for the purpose of maintaining a happy existence... hence the countenances of almost all elderly persons wear the expression of what is called disappointment."
(From The Consolations of Philosophy, Alain de Botton)
Granted, Schopenhauer was not the kind of fellow you would have wanted to invite over for an evening of small talk and laughs, but he may very well have zeroed in on an underlying cause of the many early deaths that followed a meteoric rise to fame and fortune.
Weighing in on the Michael Jackson tragedy, renowned psychiatrist and bestselling author Dr. Keith Ablow spoke of "people who are not at one with themselves," mentioning their inability to feel comfortable with their age, gender, race, and sexuality, among other factors that contribute to their feelings of isolation. In other words, their inability to accept themselves as they are.
I think most of us would be far better off if we focused on getting to know ourselves better rather than placing so much emphasis on having an active social life. After all, if you can't enjoy your own company, why should you expect others to enjoy it?
Fittingly, I shall defer to Thoreau for the final word on this subject: "I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude."
This article by Robert Ringer appears courtesy of Early To Rise, a free newsletter dedicated to making money, improving health and secrets to success. For a complimentary subscription, visit the Early to Rise website.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
Friday, 19 June 2009
The Power of Negative Visualization
When Norman Vincent Peale wrote The Power of Positive Thinking 60 years ago, he received a stack of rejection slips from publishers.
Dejected, he threw the manuscript into the trash, forbidding his wife to remove it. She didn't.
The next day, however, she took the manuscript, still inside the wastebasket, to a publisher who accepted it. The book became a foundation of the human potential movement, selling more than 20 million copies in 47 languages.
Much of Peale's homespun advice sounds quaint or even amusing to us today. Still, the book did a good job of articulating a basic truth:
To a great extent, you create your world with your thoughts. Most personal achievements begin with an abiding faith that we can and will accomplish them.
Even realizing your goals, however, will not lead to lasting satisfaction. That's because human wants are insatiable.
Most of us are trapped on what psychologists call the hedonic treadmill. We work to achieve what we desire. Those things satisfy us for a while, but we soon adapt to them and dissatisfaction returns. So next time, we set the bar a little higher...
Our lives can easily become a pastiche of unfulfilled desires. We yearn for a better-paying job, more recognition, greater social status, a newer car, a bigger house, a firmer abdomen, perhaps even a sexier spouse.
Dissatisfaction is not all bad, of course. Desire can motivate us to achieve good things in our lives, too.
But a continual sense of lack creates anxiety. It undermines our satisfaction. Peace of mind eludes us.
Fortunately, the ancient Stoic philosophers had a technique you can use to override the adaptation process and recapture the contentment we seek. It's called negative visualization.
The technique is to spend some time each day imagining that you have lost the things you value most. Vividly imagine, for example, that your job has just been terminated, that your house - with all your possessions - has burned to the ground, that your partner has left you, or that you have lost your sight, your hearing, or the use of your limbs.
This sounds horribly bleak, I know. But the Stoics were onto something here. They understood that everything we enjoy in life is simply "on loan" to us from Fortune. Any of it - all of it - can be recalled without a moment's notice.
Epictetus reminds us, for example, that our children have been given to us "for the present, not inseparably nor forever." His advice: In the very act of kissing your child, silently reflect on the possibility that she could die tomorrow.
The Roman philosopher Seneca advises us to live each day as if it were our last, indeed as if this very moment were our last. He's not suggesting that you drop your responsibilities and squander the day in frivolous or hedonistic activities. He's encouraging you to change your state of mind.
Maybe you are already living the dream you once had for yourself.
Along the way, however, you became jaded, bored, numb to the blessings that surround you. The goal of the Stoics would be to wake you up, to make you appreciate what you have today.
Some will argue that negative visualization is fine for those who are happy, healthy, and prosperous - but how about the troubled, the less fortunate?
Negative visualization works for them, too. If you have lost your job, imagine losing your possessions. If you have lost your possessions, imagine losing the people you love. If you have lost the people you love, imagine losing your health. If you have lost your health, imagine losing your life.
There is hardly a person alive who could not be worse off. That makes it hard to imagine someone who wouldn't benefit from this technique.
Adaptation diminishes our enjoyment of the world. Negative visualization brings it back.
It also prepares us for life's inevitable setbacks. Survivors of tornados, earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural disasters, for example, may suffer terribly. Yet afterward, they often tell us that they were just sleepwalking through life before. Now, they are joyously, thankfully alive.
No one should need a catastrophe to feel this way. You can attain the same realization through negative visualization. Moreover, it can be practiced regularly, so its beneficial effects, unlike a catastrophe, can last indefinitely.
Try it and you'll see. I've found it's perfect for when you're standing in line or stuck in traffic, time that would be wasted otherwise.
By contemplating the impermanence of everything in your world, you can invest all your activities with more intensity, higher significance, greater awareness.
In sum, Norman Vincent Peale got it half-right. Positive visualization helps you get what you want. Negative visualization helps you want what you get.
This article appears courtesy of Early To Rise, a free newsletter dedicated to making money, improving health and secrets to success. For a complimentary subscription, visit the Early to Rise website.
Dejected, he threw the manuscript into the trash, forbidding his wife to remove it. She didn't.
The next day, however, she took the manuscript, still inside the wastebasket, to a publisher who accepted it. The book became a foundation of the human potential movement, selling more than 20 million copies in 47 languages.
Much of Peale's homespun advice sounds quaint or even amusing to us today. Still, the book did a good job of articulating a basic truth:
To a great extent, you create your world with your thoughts. Most personal achievements begin with an abiding faith that we can and will accomplish them.
Even realizing your goals, however, will not lead to lasting satisfaction. That's because human wants are insatiable.
Most of us are trapped on what psychologists call the hedonic treadmill. We work to achieve what we desire. Those things satisfy us for a while, but we soon adapt to them and dissatisfaction returns. So next time, we set the bar a little higher...
Our lives can easily become a pastiche of unfulfilled desires. We yearn for a better-paying job, more recognition, greater social status, a newer car, a bigger house, a firmer abdomen, perhaps even a sexier spouse.
Dissatisfaction is not all bad, of course. Desire can motivate us to achieve good things in our lives, too.
But a continual sense of lack creates anxiety. It undermines our satisfaction. Peace of mind eludes us.
Fortunately, the ancient Stoic philosophers had a technique you can use to override the adaptation process and recapture the contentment we seek. It's called negative visualization.
The technique is to spend some time each day imagining that you have lost the things you value most. Vividly imagine, for example, that your job has just been terminated, that your house - with all your possessions - has burned to the ground, that your partner has left you, or that you have lost your sight, your hearing, or the use of your limbs.
This sounds horribly bleak, I know. But the Stoics were onto something here. They understood that everything we enjoy in life is simply "on loan" to us from Fortune. Any of it - all of it - can be recalled without a moment's notice.
Epictetus reminds us, for example, that our children have been given to us "for the present, not inseparably nor forever." His advice: In the very act of kissing your child, silently reflect on the possibility that she could die tomorrow.
The Roman philosopher Seneca advises us to live each day as if it were our last, indeed as if this very moment were our last. He's not suggesting that you drop your responsibilities and squander the day in frivolous or hedonistic activities. He's encouraging you to change your state of mind.
Maybe you are already living the dream you once had for yourself.
Along the way, however, you became jaded, bored, numb to the blessings that surround you. The goal of the Stoics would be to wake you up, to make you appreciate what you have today.
Some will argue that negative visualization is fine for those who are happy, healthy, and prosperous - but how about the troubled, the less fortunate?
Negative visualization works for them, too. If you have lost your job, imagine losing your possessions. If you have lost your possessions, imagine losing the people you love. If you have lost the people you love, imagine losing your health. If you have lost your health, imagine losing your life.
There is hardly a person alive who could not be worse off. That makes it hard to imagine someone who wouldn't benefit from this technique.
Adaptation diminishes our enjoyment of the world. Negative visualization brings it back.
It also prepares us for life's inevitable setbacks. Survivors of tornados, earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural disasters, for example, may suffer terribly. Yet afterward, they often tell us that they were just sleepwalking through life before. Now, they are joyously, thankfully alive.
No one should need a catastrophe to feel this way. You can attain the same realization through negative visualization. Moreover, it can be practiced regularly, so its beneficial effects, unlike a catastrophe, can last indefinitely.
Try it and you'll see. I've found it's perfect for when you're standing in line or stuck in traffic, time that would be wasted otherwise.
By contemplating the impermanence of everything in your world, you can invest all your activities with more intensity, higher significance, greater awareness.
In sum, Norman Vincent Peale got it half-right. Positive visualization helps you get what you want. Negative visualization helps you want what you get.
This article appears courtesy of Early To Rise, a free newsletter dedicated to making money, improving health and secrets to success. For a complimentary subscription, visit the Early to Rise website.
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