H: As a therapist, you could have built your practice around any of the clinical labels, the kind of folks we work with, folks with ADHD, folks who are gifted, folks who are on the autism spectrum, all of the above. But instead, you chose to focus on the quality of intensity. What does intensity capture that all of the diagnostic categories miss?
G: Intensity can come in different ways. It can be emotional, it could be physical, it could be intellectual. Most people I work with struggle, well, no, not struggle, have at least one or two types of intensities, mostly emotional and intellectual. And emotional intensity was what I started with so maybe I can talk a bit more about what it is. It usually means the tendency to feel feelings to a certain depth with more awareness and more force, like more valence. Many of them feel like they have a constant stream of feelings, usually both pleasant and unpleasant. I don't like positive-negative, so call it pleasant and unpleasant, like pain and distress and despair, but also mingled with happiness and elation and love.
Sometimes I describe it as like a washing machine, like all these at the same time. And to other people who don't have intensity, and they look at you and they see your expressions, they may call you some really hurtful things like the drama queen. They might think you were being intentionally theatrical or exaggerating when actually this is just how you feel. And one thing I want to point out is sometimes it may not look like that on the surface. Some intense people I know, because all their lives they have been told so many times that they were too much, or because they had really hurtful experience in the past, or when they were younger they didn't know how to regulate themselves, that it ended up in not very good places, they learned to sometimes unconsciously they shut it all down.
So they ended up feeling numb and then they walk around like an autopilot. And so on the surface, you wouldn't think they were intense, but it could be because it got to a point where it was overwhelming that they shut down. And it may be worth talking about intellectual intensity, as I mentioned it. So it's usually a brain that goes really fast, who love complexity and tend to go deeper than people around them. It doesn't seem to have an off switch. They people with intellectual intensity have an appetite for complex things. They like solving problems, and it doesn't mean like a math problem. It could be all sorts psychology problem, or they like system thinking.
By the way all these things I'm listing, not one person is going to have all of them, but you may identify with a few traits or so because no one is exactly the same, but if you identify with enough, then, you know, maybe you are an intense person. So the intellectually intense person tends to absorb information or knowledge quite quickly, and they have a hunger for it. And sometimes they may get irritated with people around them because what they thought of as common sense may not actually be common sense. But because they have only ever lived in their own brain, they thought that was common, and so they get irritated, and then they get misunderstood for being arrogant, and then end.
H: Oh, this is so relatable.
G: Yeah, yeah.
H: So, so relatable. Well, I was, when I think I shared with you in a previous conversation, I was identified as gifted in the 4th grade and got a lot of positive and negative feedback from for the intensity all of my life. People would say, you're not, we're not having a conversation. You're doing an interview and it's like, no, I just like to know people and things very deeply. So I don't always wade into the relationship at the same pace other people do. I refer to it as cannonballing into the deep end with someone I just met. And if they're just like me, they are so here for it, find it absolutely refreshing, but people who are not built this way can find it actually traumatizing.
So I'm just thinking of all my own experience and the people that I work with and the people that I know and other family members who are built like this, where especially the gifted label, and we'll talk about the different labels and what they share and don't share, but I think this notion that if you're gifted, you're fortunate, and I, most gifted people I know do not feel that way. So when someone comes into your office, before any of the labels even are considered in your mind or theirs, what do you see first? What do you see before you even think about any possible diagnostic categories if they are in fact looking for a diagnosis?
In a previous conversation, you described a Venn diagram in your head. There's ADHD, there's autism, there's giftedness, there's high sensitivity, people who describe themselves as empaths, all of these overlapping populations, and intensity sits in the middle. When someone walks into your practice, what do you see before you even think about any of these categories, if in fact they're looking for a diagnosis?
G: What do I see? I see people who function with more force and higher volume and feeling confused because they don't know where they fit. And yeah, I want to say clearly that by saying a Venn diagram, I'm not saying that these things like, say, ADHD, autism, giftedness, I'm not saying they're the same thing because they really are not. Not everyone gifted is neurodivergent. Not everyone ADHD is gifted, they are distinct things. But then, yes, I think I see intensity as the trait that's lying in the middle. And I think it's often unnamed and not focused on because people are trying to find the label. And don't get me wrong, I'm very much I wrote about this on my website as well, because the label is not a bad thing.
Label can be really, really useful, they can lead you to the right resources. And when you ask me what I see, I see people reaching for a label, and that is completely understandable because you want to know where you belong. You want to know if there are other people like you. You want to know if there's something that can help. Some people are against label because it can be reductive, but it's also very recognizing. It's very useful in validating your experience. I mean, people come searching for answers in horoscopes, in MBTI, right? And in labels like highly sensitive, like myself in my younger years.
I read and I tried to see, oh, what type am I in the Enneagram, and calling myself highly sensitive, empaths. The thing with the reason you asked me earlier in the first question as well, like, why did I just do intensity rather than say, oh, I work with people. Because I started out working with people with personality disorders, and many of them have emotional regulation issues so that's how I got my way in. But of course, not only them, have emotional regulation difficulties, right? So the thing with diagnosis is you kind of have to accept the whole package of like a list of traits but sometimes I see that a person is just intense.
And in fact, it could be a natural and non-pathological trait. It becomes a mental disorder when they're not given the right tools. When there is some this is, I'm big on this. This is a misfit with the environment so it's not that there's something wrong with you. There might be a misfit with your surrounding society, with capitalism, with an abusive workplace, with a family where everyone is different from you, let's say. So intensity is not even necessarily pathological, where I think the older literature would assume it is.
H: I really liked what you said, Imi, about people reach for it because they want to better understand themselves and because it gives, you know, kind of some definition to what they're feeling. And also, knowing that there is a diagnostic label in many cases makes people feel less alone.
G: Absolutely.
H: But let's talk about what intensity gives people because a lot of folks who listen to this podcast hear a lot of what I call strengths-based cheerleading, like ADHD is my superpower. And my listeners tend to be appropriately suspicious of it, as am I. But what is intensity in your view, make possible for people that may not be available to them if they were not intense.
G: Right, so I try to also be careful to not romanticize it, especially when people also overlap it with words like gifted, which is such a loaded term. It's not just positive. It's actually the reason I don't use the word gifted is because it anyway, I think it's a trait that can be actually neutral. We just have both positive and negative, so what it makes possible for instance, emotionally intense people are very often exceptionally intuitive and empathic and perceptive. They're very good observers of the subtle shifts in the environment, especially when it comes with an emotional tone. They have a deep appreciation for things like music and beauty.
They can you know, the elevator to a very high and deep level. They see what others don't see. It's like they travel to dimensions that others don't get to go. Like they watch the same film and they see something really, really punchy and deep. And that might make them very good artists as well. They have big capacity for empathy and compassion in relationships. So that usually means that's what people come to them for. I think they usually have quite strong moral commitments. And of course, being intellectually intense means you see a lot of things, means you love knowledge, means you may not be very bored when you're alone because you can get so much from just reading and researching.
You can get bored if you get trapped in a system where you're forced to do things that you don't want to do, but you know, they rarely bored when they're left to their own device so there are all these good things. But it also comes with its cost, you know, like, you know, they, they, like I said earlier, they get told that they see too much, feel too much. They tend to get overwhelmed by constant wave of things they can see. Like if they, if you see too much in a social environment, it's not always fun. And they, some people describe themselves as having absorbed all the neuroses in the room. And when you are intense, sometimes you get strong idealism and perfectionism as well.
So you get a little obsessive about details. You may be very harsh on yourself. Many people find that it goes into their bodies as well because of this, like, fixation on certain things. They get migraines, digestive problems, skin allergies, things that doctors don't know what to name, things like that. It does come with a cost again, not everyone would identify with all of these. So I will never present intensity as a gift with no cost, but it's not pathology in itself.
H: Right. Well, actually, as you're clarifying the definitions and the experiences of intense individuals, much of which I relate to very deeply, I'm reminded that goodness of fit between person and environment, not only in terms of the living environment, the social environment, the work environment, probably more, that alongside of self-awareness and self-acceptance can make all the difference between whether an intense person suffers or thrives. And many of them cannot function well inside what we might think of as conventional structure, especially the kind of folks, intense folks that I work with.
Become entrepreneurs or self-employed as independent professionals, creatives, business owners, because they cannot function well inside all the constraints and the conformity that's required. But then the other side is isolation because now there's no structure. Now there's no social environments, a lot of people that listen to this podcast are in exactly that gap. They can't function inside the system, the conventional workplace, but when they leave it, they lose all of the benefits. What do you see happening to the people that get caught up in that that you work with?
G: Good question. Indeed, a lot of them struggle with conventional systems. Shall we maybe discuss why they do struggle with conventional system? I think what I'm coming at it because I come up not from like the business perspective, but more from who they are as a person.
H: That would be helpful.
G: Yeah. I mean, what I see quite common is that they get burned out and bored out at the same time. Because they are highly competent many of them, but they often give because they can do a lot and then the people around them can sense it and then, so they kind of get them more jobs to do. I mean, the street wisdom asks you to play dumb, right? So people don't and I don't think many of the population I work with have the energy to play dumb. And so they just ended up getting dumped a lot of work to do, but then they were given not the authority, not the power, not the title, so it's like responsibility with no authority.
H: Yes.
G: And that's a terrible middle place to be with, because you have to do all the work, but you have no power. And then so you burn out, but then you might also be bored because the role is not where your creativity and ability shines. So they're both drained and understimulated at the same time.
H: Yeah, you are saying this so beautifully well, Imi, is that getting burned out because you're actually doing way too much, but it's not the right kind of stimulation and challenge. So you're literally bored out of your mind and exhausted and excessively burdened at the same time.
G: Exactly. And a lot of people, maybe the people you work with too, I think they have a rhythm problem. Like, you know, the conventional structure orders you to be there 9 to 5 and then be like consistently good, moderately good at a range of things consistently every day. Whereas intensive, many intensive people anyway, are extraordinary at some certain things when it comes in bursts. They may have their own rhythm, if you know what I mean. They have their seasons.
Like in the summer, they're super productive and then suddenly they kind of have to switch off for a few days. But then the conventional workplace doesn't really work like that. You basically have to be there every day. And then at a certain time you're ordered to be like, I personally, I can't even not have a migraine with the fluorescent light, but that's a physical sensitivity thing. That's a different matter. But the rhythm thing is one and one last thing I also saw well, not the last thing, but another big thing I also…
H: There's always more, right?
G: Exactly. It's the moral sensitivity that I mentioned earlier. So there is also a lot of, quote unquote, I don't know how far you scrutinize the language, a lot of bullshit in workplace. That's my client's language.
H: Oh, by the way, this show has an explicit rating, so carry on however you want to express it.
G: Good, that's my language. So, yeah, I mean, bullshit, not bullshit is personal, but what they would actually, to be serious, what they're naming is a lot of things that don't sit right with their values like they don't believe in it. And then you just kind of have to say something, you know, it's not true. You have to go along with agendas that you don't really, doesn't really make sense to you. Punish people that they think shouldn't be punished. Things like that and if you have a high sense of moral sensitivity, these things really bother you, you know, small, quote unquote, small things like microaggression, power dynamics, things that doesn't jive with your integrity.
And the trouble is potentially other people see it too, but they just don't do anything about it. And if you are the one that's always, having an issue with it, you become the problem maker. So you either shut up and suppress your anger and resentment, or you say something and then you get framed as a troublemaker at work and so you can't win. And so for all these reasons, I think many people do struggle with conventional workplace but you asked earlier about the loneliness.
I think, yeah, you know, it's hard to have no external structure telling you that you doing a good job. And if you had a harsh upbringing or if you're not very kind to yourself, sometimes you fill the silence with the harshest available voice, which is the internal critic. So you're always harsher than objectively. And then because of this feeling that you're always falling short, you may then overproduce. There's also the, what I also see is the not knowing when it's enough. Because no one is giving you an off time and so you feel constantly guilty for not doing things because you just don't know when it's enough rather than, okay, it's 6 PM, you can go home now so yeah, there's all that.
H: But it creates a tremendous amount of isolation and loneliness. I'm thinking, I refer to it as, you know, we don't have an enoughness meter. Because when you're naturally here's how I think about it. When you really enjoy learning, you enjoy challenging your mind, you enjoy acquiring new skills, you enjoy achieving mastery at things, however you describe that, it's intrinsically satisfying to you so when is enough? I do agree with you that when you're self-employed, you don't have a boss, you don't have a supervisor, you don't have the time clock, you don't have other people all leaving so maybe you should leave too.
It's not only that, it's that your own enoughness meter isn't set at the same place as other people around you because your hunger for knowledge, your hunger for mastery, your hunger for exploring things that are of interest to you. You never reach this point where it's like, well, that's enough of that. You might fall asleep at your desk or realize you haven't eaten in 17 hours or have family commitments you have to go home to but internally, that enough is enough. Whether it's learning, writing, reading, studying, sharing, it's like, when is the end? Usually it's when you're burned out, bored, exhausted, or someone else tells you, shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it.
G: When your body forces you. Yeah, exactly.
H: Major, major.
G: Another thing I was thinking about is the, when you're self-employed or when you do the kind of unconventional work, the creative work, let's say what you do, it, it's it neglects the thinking in the background. I'm thinking about artists that I see, or basically I wrote about this in a piece. I don't know why I forgot what I titled it, A Letter Something Something. But what it is, is that you neglect the thinking and processing things in the background is a kind of work. You don't just go home and switch off like, for instance, the writer that's not writing. I remember my late therapist used to say to me, the writing doesn't happen in the writing time. Your piece is written when you were taking a shower, when you're taking a walk, when you're eating, doing your life.
The writing is just the last final 5% where you put it on the paper. I mean, I'm exaggerating it, but you know what I mean? It's like the artist walking in nature is their working. The programmer that's taking a long shower and thinking and processing, they're working in the background. So I think what's actually missing is the explicit proof that you're working, but your mind is actually always running and you're not always awake. Yeah, there's no external proof to it, not even to yourself. I mean, another thing that reminds me of is the concept of emotional labor in academia.
H: I was just going to say that. You read my mind.
G: Really? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So it's a phrase and I think it started in feminist literature. I don't know, sociology or something. So it's like the work of managing a household, remembering everyone's needs, holding relationships together. Oh my God, this is like an enormous job. It's always, it's continuous, but then it's invisible, right? You're just kind of a raider. You're doing all the emotional labor, but no one is giving you credit for it.
H: Yes, and that's another thing that we only tend to know the enoughness meter kicks in not when we've done enough, when we have far exceeded enoughness chronically. Now you're dealing with not only burnout, you're dealing with adrenal fatigue, you're dealing with just feeling emotionally depleted or disconnected from other people. All of these things, because when you don't know when enough is enough, you overdo, you overthink, you overfeel, you overexperience and usually there's a lot of cost to that. I want to ask you also, Imi, about something you write a lot about, which is shame.
And I think even people who have tremendous depth, tremendous capacity, tremendous insight, tremendous ability to recognize the seriousness of this life we live in because they can see through all the layers. They can't not see them but there's a sense of shame, I think, for so many people because they just feel so different from other people. And even the things that they have that are I think admirable qualities because they happen in a sense of excessiveness, that feels shameful. Can you say something about that?
G: Yes, I do think shame is a big thing that I work with and see a lot. A lot of it comes from purely just being different and being labeled with all sorts of things from a young age. it becomes almost a muscle memory to shrink. There is it comes with a hypervigilance to monitor yourself. I think, say, I work with intense and sensitive people. They almost internalize the message that they are somehow dangerous or something and so they kind of minimize their own ability and they fawn a lot.
They kind of like, oh my God, is this person mad at me? And they go into this rumination about how small do I need to make myself to make other people around me feel comfortable. It's almost like a kind of internalised gaslighting. Because you begin to learn to participate in hiding yourself and shrinking yourself. You notice this kind of like qualifying statements as well when people talk, like, oh, I could be wrong. I'm sorry, but I have to say this like, it's like a pre-apologising, to soften everything you say.
H: You know the one I hear the most, Imi? I'll have an intense client explain or express something to me and they'll say, if that makes any sense.
G: Yes. Yes.
H: So it's almost.
G: It's like a reflex, right? Does that make sense? You already assume it doesn't. But it makes sense because they had their whole life of, except that it doesn't work. Like, it doesn't actually it's performative humility. It's a survival strategy. It's so natural now, but it's actually expired. Like, it doesn't actually serve you anymore. It stops you from getting promotion. It stops you from having other people take you seriously. But it's very understandable why you would have adopted that. A lot of people had to make themselves so small in their family to not get attacked, to not get, you know, the envious attack by a sibling or something. So it makes sense, but it also doesn't make sense anymore.
H: I really especially like validating when someone reflexively says that, if that makes any sense, and I say, it makes perfect sense. Because that would have been something I would have loved to hear from others. And I've never heard the term performative humility. I love that. I think that captures it so, so, so accurately. It's such a strange, in a way perverse thing about human nature that we reject, ridicule, criticize, isolate, and withdraw support from people who we think are not enough in some way, but also those we perceive as being too much. And of course, it gets internalized over time. And unless we want to become a complete hermit, we have to learn to navigate relationships. You have written, I believe, a great deal about the close relationships of intense people. Those who choose to be in romantic partnerships or have a family or live with others, and that the cost to the relationship of that intensity. What have you learned about the difference between being deep and being difficult? Because I think a lot of people confuse the two.
G: I don't think anyone intentionally tries to be difficult, but, you know, going back to the environmental fit we mentioned earlier. Sometimes it's just differences in temperament and if being the minority in a household is always difficult, I do think they get misunderstood a lot. So for instance, they are, they want to get things precise or they want to improve things, but then it comes get read as being pedantic, being precious, you know. Because sometimes people, like, they see the version of what would have been right, and then they see the gap between how things are and what things are like, and they can't help but point it out. And actually, they it's just, it always comes with such good and pure intention, but then they get labeled in really, really bad ways.
Like, the moral sensitivity stuff gets labeled as self-righteousness. And then you get frustrated when things when one thing, intellectually intense people, because they're fast, so they get frustrated when others don't seem to keep up. And they're really not trying to be contemptuous or arrogant, really like, they're just frustrated. But understandably, these can get labeled as being difficult, being aloof, pedantic, arrogant. But it really usually comes from such a kind place and they usually feel quite guilty about making other people feel that way too.
H: Yes, which goes to the speaks to the moral sensitivity as well. And I think we can all think of people who are difficult and who don't mind that label because maybe that's even something they lead with. But being thought of as difficult because you are intense and your capacity, and like you say, your speed and your depth is not calibrated to that of the people around you. It's difficult for them, but it's also difficult for the intense person.
G: Yeah, I wrote an article recently called the I think it's the Compulsion to Correct, which I think is such a small thing, but it's so common. Like they just feel this compulsion to correct when actually you can just let it slide, but then you can't let it slide. And then a lot of people I work with, they have this compulsion to educate people around them, which of course is annoying to people around them when they're not ready for it.
But then, you know, you see them doing things like sending articles to them, recommending books, or just delivering knowledge and then the other person just switches off. Like they give you this blank stare or just like, oh, you know, I don't wanna hear this and so that's actually painful for both. I don't think either is right or wrong and I do think the intense person probably wants to learn to recalibrate it so that it doesn't create so much tension in relationship, because you can't actually change another person when they're not ready for your lecture.
H: 100%. Yeah.
G: Yeah. I think that the thing is, whether or not whether it's the family member or loved ones annoying you or vice versa, sometimes underneath it, you both want the same thing. You both just want to be connecting. You want to be close to each other. You sending them news, whatever, articles to read, and them talking about the weather with you, they're the same thing, which is you want to connect with each other. And so sometimes I tell people, what if you just focus the form rather than the content? Content, you know, the content doesn't matter. You can be talking about whatever. You can talk about your theories. They can talk about whatever they're interested in. You just want to be next to each other.
So maybe focus less on the correctness of what they're saying if you can, because you see this happening with kids and parents quite a lot. Obviously there's a generational gap, you know, there's a lot of reason why you are very different in your opinions, and it's very, very difficult and painful for both. But if you can focus back onto the form rather than the contents, which is the intention, which is you want to be with each other, you want to show that you care, then the contents maybe matters less. Yeah, I mean, it's not a complete panacea, you know, remedy for everything, but.
H: I think it's incredibly helpful to think, even though we're struggling to communicate, we're struggling to calibrate our energy levels and our communication, but remembering and reminding yourself and each other, we want the same things. We're going about it differently, but we want the same things. I think just even hearing you say that feels so good. And I'm also thinking about with myself as an intellectually and emotionally intense person who's both gifted and has ADHD. As far as diagnostic labels go, in my enthusiasm to connect with other people and to share something that I'm interested in, that I'm seeing that they're interested in.
G: I know.
H: My analogy for this, Imi, was, do you say you're thirsty? And instead of giving them a cup of water, I hit them in the face with a fire hose. So now I'm learning to slow down a little bit and like, so give a little bit and then see if there's interest or see if the signals are there to continue and then give a little more instead of just racing right into the deep end. And because I'm so excited to share what's on my mind, completely annihilating the other person too much, too fast, too deep, too everything. And it completely misses the point, which is I'm desperately trying to connect.
G: Exactly, misses the point.
H: At all the levels and realizing, you know, and it took many years to get over the feeling like, shut up, you are so obnoxious, and feeling shame and guilt and all that. But learning, and it's been a little bit easier as I've gotten older, to think of it more as a dance and think of my pacing and also, it's really not valuable information for the other person if it's too much, too deep, or too fast. So if my true desire is to share information or knowledge or to have a shared experience, experience, it's not that I have to dumb it down or mask or hide. It's that I have to pace it better for the other person's abilities and capabilities and interests. And that was absolutely a learned skill that I will probably be working on the rest of my life.
G: Oh, you've named it so well. Yes.
H: Well, but I think you're reminding me that when the desire is genuine connection, then we're not talking about changing who we are. We're talking about becoming more skillful at sharing who we are.
G: Yeah, I love that. Skillful. Skillful means.
H: Which brings me to my next question. We have shared previously that, you know, I am a practicing Buddhist. You have master's degrees in both mental health and Buddhist studies, and you practice philosophical counseling alongside psychotherapy. As a former psychotherapist and practicing Buddhist myself, this one this question is partly for me as well as for the listeners. What do you think these non-clinical traditions of Buddhist studies understand about intensity that our current clinical models just don't?
G: God, where do I start?
H: Right?
G: Yes, you're right. So I trained in mental health, and I worked in the medical system a bit. So I still hold that training, I'm not rejecting it wholesale. My frustration grew from seeing psychology and I really didn't want to pursue psychology per se, because I personally find that it's trying very hard to become quantitative science. And so it wants things like quantitative research, effect size, evidence-based practices, evidence-based everything. So everything is, you know, the most public systems only recognize as measurable therapies like CBT. They want to give you a questionnaire before you go into a session and then give you one afterwards to measure how much better you feel. I think that's just, I find it a little gross and it's just not how one human being works. You know, a lot gets lost in that, so if it can't be measured, it can't be counted as evidence.
H: Yeah.
G: And also another thing is back to linking to our conversation, we work with people who doesn't fall in the middle of a bell curve. And evidence-based practice tells you what worked on average on the trial population over a fixed period. But then with number one, with, you know, whether or not neurodivergence or not, the average patient doesn't actually exist. No one is average like, you know what I mean? Like, everyone is unique and by the definition of what we work with, they're by definition at the tail of the distribution so there's a lot of not sitting right with me.
Another thing is, I mean, therapy is very much rooted in philosophy. We just stopped saying it to make it so kind of clean, you know, CBT is a lot rooted in Stoicism. Existential therapy comes right out of phenomenology, existentialism. And you see the acceptance-based therapies, you know, ACT, DBT, your audience probably know these things, kind of mindfulness-based therapies, acceptance-commitment therapies, dialectical behavioral therapies. They kind of, you know, they're inspired by Buddhist practice.
H: 100%.
G: Yeah, yeah. So I think going back to the deeper roots of philosophy is like just going home rather than trying to clean up the whole system. I think if I were to go a little bit further, it's a bit like when religion goes out of fashion, we become a little collectively allergic of I don't know, it's like we try to extract these techniques and then to make it so secular, but then we're taking something out of the whole system and seeing them in single isolation. And I think that
strips it out, you know, strips out the power. That's a little bit of a diversion, but going back to the question, you know what I mean? It's I just don't think we should extract a technique from its background and yeah, there's a lot of richness in Buddhism. I personally love the non-self doctrine like, I just personally find a lot of solace in it. It's not a doctrine, but it's just kind of
ways of shaking up your mind that I think a clinical technique doesn't always reach.
H: Yeah, I think I shared with you in another conversation that I like the idea of pain, suffering, and unnecessary suffering. And for me, as an intellectually and emotionally intense person, a lot of what I came to see as unnecessary suffering is the you described it earlier—the gap between what is and what I can imagine right? Some people would think of it as being a visionary, but if you're always living in the gap and the reality of what you think the potential for the situation or the person or the workplace or the idea, whatever it is, you see this potential and then you see its reality and there's a gap.
And I always talk about, I'm always wanting to close the gap. And a lot of the people that I work with, they are so driven to close the gap, but we keep thinking, we keep learning, our mind keeps expanding, the ideas and the creativity keeps expanding so the gap keeps getting bigger. And I think just understanding, yes, this is how this brain works, this mind, this human experience works. I have to learn detachment from that goal orientation of closing the gap, or I will be consumed with unnecessary suffering.
G: Yes.
H: I will be miserable athe time, because the possibilities will keep expanding and the reality will never keep pace.
G: Yeah. Have you heard of that first arrow, second arrow metaphor? So the first arrow is basically, well, the Buddhists think life is suffering, there's pain that we cannot avoid. And like impermanence, things change, things we love will leave us, things like that. So that's just pain but then, so that's the first layer of suffering. That's the first arrow and what we human beings do is we shoot ourselves a second arrow, which is unnecessary. I'm kind of echoing with what you say, but different words. So you're saying actually the first arrow we can't dodge, but then we often shoot ourselves with the bloody second arrow, which, you know, Diann is trying to say, yeah, let's leave the second arrow aside.
And we see that like in the way you described it. And also just in accepting going back to our theme, the first arrow might be that you're different. You're different from mainstream society, you're neurodivergent, and many people misunderstand you. That's just what it is but then the second arrow might be things like, well, you reject yourself too, maybe we can change that. Or maybe you're shrinking yourself now. You are doing that internalized gaslighting we talked about earlier, maybe we can stop that. Maybe you don't need that second arrow to make things even worse for yourself. We can't change the fact that you're different, that you're wired differently. But what if we deal with it not with another punch? Yeah, yeah.
H: I love that, which echoes one of my core concepts for my own practice and for what I hope to impart to my clients and those around me is radical self-acceptance, which I borrowed from one of the Buddhist teachers that I follow. It's not simple self-acceptance, which I accept myself, I'm not perfect, blah, blah, but radical self-acceptance doesn't mean I approve of every aspect about myself. I don't, but that I refuse to reject or hate or feel ashamed or guilty just for existing as I am. If I haven't done something, intentionally harmed or unintentionally harmed someone, I refuse to feel self-rejection just for my existence. I've spent far too many years of my life thinking because I'm different, I have to fix myself. Now, I'd say, no, I have to learn how to fully embody myself and be aware of the impact I have on others, not so that I can shrink to make them more comfortable, but so that I can be more conscientious about the impact of my behavior on others and choose my environments better.
G: High five to that.
H: I don't belong everywhere and there are places that I have no business going because it would be miserable for everyone there. So for someone listening who's like, wow, this is a different kind of conversation for ADHD-ish, and I am so here for it. If they see themselves in these definitions and what's being shared today, and they're like, yeah, I'm intense all right and I understand it more deeply now as a result of what I'm hearing and I don't want to apologize for it anymore. What would be the first step towards that radical self-acceptance of their intensity? Not the whole but what would be the first move you would want them to make?
G: Stop asking what's wrong with you and asking what you are a misfit with. Maybe you're not too much, you're not too anything, you're just in an environment that doesn't hold who you are. And when I say environment, it could mean a person, it could mean a space, it can mean a workspace, it could mean one thing that you're doing. It's a bit like the decluttering that's getting very popular these days. What can you declutter in your psychosocial space, in your emotional space? Nothing is wrong with a plant that's not growing in the wrong soil. And it's like the ugly duckling story, you know, maybe you're just a swan, consider that.
H: I love that. You mentioned a plant and I've always been well known for having a black thumb. I swear I could kill a silk plant.
G: Aww.
H: But I actually have a new plant that a friend gave me because he said, I think you're wrong about that. I think you just need to find what the right conditions for this plant are.
G: Nice, nice, nice.
H: And actually, I have one plant right now and it's actually thriving. But I often say that most people are daisies. Daisies thrive pretty much anywhere. The more of an outlier you are, the more likely you're an orchid. Orchids are rare and they can only thrive in the right conditions, maybe you need to embrace being an orchid.
G: Yeah, thank you.
