The One Reason to Complain

The One Reason to Complain 1
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Complaining is mostly a toxic behaviour. Many of us can bear witness to the gloominess that washes over us when we’re in the company of a serial whiner—we’d tear down walls to escape the situation. Every self-righteous word seems to vanquish a little bit of your soul. Suggesting a fix for the thing being complained about is futile, because that isn’t the desired outcome. Incessant whiners just want to whine, making the mustering of our own empathy nigh on impossible. People of this kind are often infected with deep-seated bitterness—their lives don’t match their expectations, and instead of having the courage to fix what’s bothering them, they relinquish the responsibility and complain instead. It’s much easier, after all.Th

There’s lots of reasons that people complain, with most them being counterproductive to our mental health. For many of us, the hardest one to resist is physical pain. Hurting is horrible, and it comes with a tendency to vocalise the experience, whether it be groaning, grunting, or divulging to our partner in monotonous detail about every unpleasant sensation. Emotional pain is just as extreme, and carries similar effects. Others may grumble for its bonding power—many a friendship has been forged in the fires of Mount Gloom; our judging and whining is met with nodding heads, and we become a little bit closer. We simply can’t believe that so and so would do such an awful thing, and by stating this fact, we’re elevating ourselves above them, dismissing the possibility that we’d ever act in such an animalistic way. Nothing is more self-congratulatory than a high horse. We’re recruiting an army of like-minded whiners—together we can set this crooked world straight!

Being spoiled is another major factor. A hungover barista forgot to put chocolate sprinkles on our cappuccino, and we can’t find the words to express how much of an idiot he is. He has one job to do. Later on our flight is delayed by an hour, and it’s literally the worst thing to happen to anyone, ever. Never mind the fact that air travel is one of the greatest of human inventions, and we’re incredibly fortunate to have it. This type of spoiled demeanour is often paired with a lack of control, fuelled by our desire to direct everything so that it works out exactly as we want it to. The instant our expectations aren’t met, a complaint flies from our lips.

Uncomfortable silences can also act as complaint enticers. If you’re with friends and an extended spell of silence falls over the group, it’s common for someone to whine or gossip about something in order to extinguish the awkwardness, particularly for older people, who tend to mop up complaints like leftover gravy. Whining feels good—it’s infinitely preferable to the tension of silence. Every complaint strengthens the neural pathways dedicated to complaining, making the road more likely to be travelled. Before you know it, you could be a serial whiner.

So should complaining be avoided at all costs? Not entirely. We all experience strong negative feelings from time to time, and bottling them up isn’t a good strategy. You may be depressed about your tedious career, and need to talk about it with your partner. If we’re to retain our sanity, we absolutely must talk about such things. Our position the most important consideration— are we playing the role of the victim? The poor helpless individual who can’t get ahead in life no matter what we do? Or are we venting our frustrations in order to make things clearer to ourselves, and our partners? Are we having a conversation which leads us down the path to a solution? If you’re complaining about something and you have no desire to improve it (or it’s outside of your control), your whining will probably make you feel worse in the long run. The next time it pops into your head, you’ll be more likely to complain about it again, because you’ve trained yourself to do so. 

The next time you catch yourself opening your mouth to complain about something, you might want to consider your position. Do you actually want to fix what you’re whining about? Or are you just assuming the role of a whimpering victim? The difference is crucial.

“See if you can catch yourself complaining, in either speech or thought, about a situation you find yourself in, what other people do or say, your surroundings, your life situation, even the weather. To complain is always nonacceptance of what is. It invariably carries an unconscious negative charge. When you complain, you make yourself into a victim. When you speak out, you are in your power. So change the situation by taking action or by speaking out if necessary or possible; leave the situation or accept it. All else is madness.” 

Eckhart Tolle

The usefulness of discomfort

1_QvUoi5AspQrQuxCD1ZR2tgPhoto by Jonathan Rados on Unsplash

Problems are recognised as inherently negative beasties. They usually involve a great deal of doubt and uncertainty, and so we want them as far away from us as possible. Rarely have the words “I wish I had more problems” been uttered.

When an inevitable problem arises, we quietly swear and curse its existence. We’d hire a charcoal assassin to put a bullet between its eyes, if we could. Instead of tackling it, our brain reminds us that we haven’t checked our social media in the last 15 minutes, and that this is the prime opportunity to do so. Memes are much more fun than problems.

We do this because we absolutely hate discomfort, in any form. Our immediate reaction is to escape – into social media, alcohol, drugs, or whatever else floats your boat. But doing so only brings temporary relief, and the discomfort usually has to be dealt with eventually.

Discomfort is no big deal. Escaping is just running in the opposite direction to what will, in essence, grow you as a person. By running from discomfort, you’re choosing to be stunted, like a 10-year old boy who smokes 30 cigarettes a day. Every cigarette prevents the mind from growing; becoming more complex; more interesting; more fulfilled. Every time we take the easier route, we’re weakening our fortitude, and strengthening our cowardice.

Discomfort of any kind should be viewed as an opportunity to bolster our fortitude. The people written into our history books probably had this skill in common. Darwin didn’t ask the captain of the HMS Beagle to turn the ship around when the sea got a little rough. Instead they pressed on through the danger, and the entire world benefited.

Mindfulness is an invaluable tool to build fortitude, because it teaches you to catch yourself in the act. You realise that you’re about to do the thing that you’ve done a thousand times before: escape into something easier. Rather than going ahead, you might decide to do the difficult thing instead, and achieve something worthwhile. Mindfulness also helps with staying in the moment. You can detach yourself from the discomfort that you’re feeling, and recognise that it isn’t anywhere near as bad as you thought.

In addition to teaching you to be more conscious of your thoughts, practicing mindfulness has a ton of other benefits, including lowering stress, enhancing self-esteem, improving your memory and focus, reducing anxiety, and increasing your energy. Many psychologists recommend that you incorporate it into your daily routine (along with exercise), due to its bountiful, scientifically proven perks.

By practicing mindfulness, we can catch ourselves in the act of escaping discomfort, and slowly come to realise that problems aren’t the demons that they’ve been portrayed as, but invaluable opportunities to build fortitude, and become better people.

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