The Hold
What you're defending is the obstacle
I have spent nearly a decade asking a few simple questions.
Why do people like Mahatma Gandhi, Desmond Tutu, and the Dalai Lama wear childlike smiles, unlike most adults in our daily lives, who wear stress and tension on their faces? Didn’t they go through much harder times than most of us?
Why do some people respond to setbacks with more elegance than others? Why do some people stand still in front of obstacles or back off when others find ways to crack those obstacles? Haven’t we all read the same books and heard the same advice? Yet, when the moment arrives, why does most such advice disappear?
When something we don’t like happens, self-saboteurs like blame, victimhood, judgment, and helplessness kick in. Where do those come from? What needs to change?
While I decorate my public profile with things I have done, degrees accumulated, and accomplishments, what about all the situations where I got stuck with routine things or had setbacks — like when I didn’t get the role I wanted, when the promotion didn’t land, when I thought I was ready, when the job I secretly hoped for didn’t land, or when an organizational change ejected me out?
I read all the usual self-help books from Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People to Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence to Carol Dweck’s Mindset to Stephen Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. But where was my growth mindset when I was stuck? Why didn’t I stay present and emotionally intelligent when I needed them most, say, after a work situation brought an unpleasant conflict, and I showed how emotionally unintelligent I could be?
What makes all such advice and help go invisible when I need it most? Why? Is there a more fundamental obstacle that I have not been seeing?
Such questions led me from my day job in software engineering leadership to the psychology of leadership, biographies of some leaders, the neuroscience literature, the Ubuntu philosophy, the Upanishads, and eventually to Nāgārjuna’s Mūlamadhyamakakārikā and Yogācāra philosophy. My instincts for finding answers grew stronger as I delved into the abstract aspects of Buddhism, such as Śūnyatā (emptiness), Pratītyasamutpāda (dependent origination), and Madhyamāpratipada (middle way).
At first, things made sense, but I began to notice a major disconnect between those abstract ideas and the real world. Buddha taught Pratītyasamutpāda, but how could I deny my free will and actions? Nāgārjuna implored Śūnyatā, yet nothing in front of us seems empty. As long as I am alive, healthy, and living comfortably in a suburban home, why bother with the suffering that Buddha spent so much of his life addressing?
I kept digging deeper. I began examining everyday situations and behaviors. It was uncomfortable at first. I started working on myself. That’s when the fog started to clear. It still takes effort and frequent squinting, but the fundamental obstacle began to reveal itself.
The fundamental obstacle is not in front of me, but it is what I have been holding and defending. Years ago, I felt bullied by someone. I labeled myself a victim and moved on. On reexamination, I now see a silent judge seeking vindication behind that victim.
It is also what you have been holding and defending. Check when you were upset and raised your finger at someone who cut in front of you in traffic. Was the same you reading this? How about the situation when someone hurt you so deeply that you took months to recover inside? Or think of the situation when you cut your ties with a dear friend because they offered a different point of view of yourself that you didn’t agree with.
It is the notion that we have a stable self that can be coached, optimized, and expressed authentically. Call it the mountain. It has accumulated over the years, feels solid, and does not give way easily. It feels credible and dependable. It feels worth holding on to and defending because we built it.
What if we release that hold? What if we examine how those mountains are formed to detect that hold? These days, my best days are when I see the hold and loosen it. This Substack is my attempt at exploring what you and I have been holding and defending.
Some of the material will be difficult at first. You might even find me delusional at times, but I urge your patience. There won’t be listicles of advice — there won’t be a need since the root issue is simpler. But the journey shall be unsettling.