Have you ever heard this saying: ‘It’s the thought that counts’?
Let’s think about this for a moment. Which means more to you: when someone has a thought about buying you a birthday present, or when they actually go out and buy you one? Which of these will get you into trouble with the law: if you have thoughts about committing a crime, or if you actually go out and commit one? Which will count the most to your children: if you think about being a loving and supportive parent, or if you actually are loving and supportive? No child has ever said: ‘What I really admired about my Dad was that although he was totally selfish and was never there for me when I needed him, he often thought about being more caring and giving.’
So let’s face it: it’s our actions that count, not our thoughts. And it’s just as well, or we’d all be in a lot of trouble. Think of all those angry, vengeful thoughts you’ve had in your life; of all those times you’ve thought of doing something to hurt another person, such as yelling offensive insults or saying nasty put-downs, or committing acts of revenge. And have you ever had thoughts about leaving your partner, or having sex with someone else? (If not, you’re very unusual; almost everybody in a long-term relationship has thoughts like this at times.) And that’s not the half of it. The fact is that we all have plenty of thoughts that we would be deeply embarrassed to admit to in public. So what state would our lives be in if these thoughts really did count more than our actions?
We create our life through our actions, not through our thoughts. One of my current clients has been seriously thinking about quitting his dull, tedious, undemanding job and retraining as a psychologist. The problem is, he’s been thinking about it seriously for more than ten years — and he still hasn’t taken any action! And isn’t he a bit like you and me? Most of us spend far too much time thinking about what we want to do with our time on this planet, but nowhere near enough time actually doing it.
Of course, usually when we say, ‘It’s the thought that counts’, it serves a specific purpose: we are trying to make somebody else feel better. We suspect they are feeling bad because they haven’t followed through on something they considered important (such as buying that birthday present), and we want to let them off the hook. So next time you’re in this situation, why not say something that serves the same purpose, but is a bit more genuine and compassionate, such as: ‘Ah, well. You’re only human. I do things like that too. Really, it’s no big deal.’
And next time you’re thinking about an important or meaningful area of your life, why not ask yourself these questions: ‘What’s a tiny step I could take? What’s the smallest, easiest, simplest action I could do to make a difference in this part of my life?’ After all, when it comes to creating the life you want, even the tiniest actions count for more than many hundreds of hours of thinking.
This is where the three C’s can really help us. We all have so many different values, we can easily get lost inside our minds, trying to analyse our way to a life of purpose. But the three C’s can help us to step out of our thoughts and get into action, whenever we wish, no matter what we are doing. All we need to do is ask ourselves two simple questions:
• What relationship matters most in this moment?
• What could I do, right now, in this relationship that involves connection, caring or contribution?
Let’s look at a few examples to tease this out. Suppose the relationship that matters most to you in this moment is the one with your own thoughts and feelings. Could you connect with them: notice where they are, what they are doing, and how you are responding to them? Could you care about them: acknowledge they have an important role in your life; that they are telling you something important about what matters to you? Could you contribute peace and space and openness and curiosity?
Suppose the relationship that matters most right now is with your body. Could you connect with it and be curious? How does it feel? What is it doing? How is it moving? Where is it tense and where is it relaxed? Where is it strong and where is it weak? What makes it function better and what makes it worse? Could you care for and contribute to your body through stretching, or exercise, or eating well, or sleeping well, or giving it a rest, or teaching it a new skill, or taking it for a walk in the park?
And if the most important relationship is with your mind, could you connect with it and notice what it’s up to? Is it doing something useful? Is it fantasising, remembering, worrying, pondering or planning? If you wanted to care and contribute, could you give your mind a rest? Or could you teach it a new skill? Or could you introduce it to something interesting such as some new books, music or movies?
And if the most important relationship in this moment is with your art, or your sport, or your hobby, or your work, or your study, then what happens when you connect with it; when you immerse your full attention to the task and let distracting thoughts come and go? And what happens to this relationship when you contribute; when you give it your enthusiasm, curiosity, courage, creativity or patience? And what happens to this relationship when you are caring: when you take time to appreciate it, or you act with greater care and consideration?
And if this relationship happens to be with a person, then the same three questions apply, regardless of whether that person is your partner, child, parent, friend, neighbour, teacher, student, mentor, customer, employer or co-worker. How can you connect with them with openness and curiosity? You might pay more attention to their face, their tone of voice, their body posture, or the words that they are saying. What can you do to show that you care? You might be curious about their emotions, their thoughts, or their beliefs, attitudes and assumptions and try to understand their world and their needs. What can you do to contribute to their life? This doesn’t have to be big or dramatic; the smallest act of kindness or caring will do.
Of course, if this other person is treating you badly, you’ll need to shift your priorities within this relationship. First and foremost, you’ll need to take care of and contribute to your own health and wellbeing; to do what is necessary to protect and look after yourself and meet your own needs. And if the bad treatment persists, you may well wish to consider ending the relationship. (Of course, this is not always possible, but even if it is, it may not be the best option. For example, if you’re caring for a loved one who has some sort of illness that leads them to be abusive.) Either way, while the relationship persists, your priority should be caring for yourself within it.
I hope by now you can see the three C’s are vital for every relationship: with people or pets, with God or science, with art, nature or technology. For example, consider the case of Rob, a 22-year-old university student. Rob was studying a five-year architecture course and he worked part-time as a waiter to help pay his way. He told me that he hated his job, but he needed the money to pay for his food and board. He knew it was only temporary — that in one more year he’d be working as an architect — but that didn’t stop him from dreading every shift. And it wasn’t that he worked in a horrible place or had some terrible boss; he just didn’t like the work. And the only other part-time work he could get was cleaning, stocking shelves, serving hamburgers or bartending, and these were, in his opinion, even worse.
So I questioned him about the three C’s and how he could use them to transform his relationship with his job. What might happen if he connected more with the customers? What difference might it make if he were to be fully present? To pay attention with openness and curiosity to the clothes they wore, the style of their hair, and the tone and rhythm of their voices? To notice the way that they ate and drank and spoke? To notice their facial expressions and physical gestures?
And what might happen if he cared more about the customers: if he cared about their experience in the restaurant and the quality of his service? Inspired by this way of thinking, Rob had an idea. He would become a ‘Zen master of pizza delivery’. He would connect with his body to ensure he had the best possible posture and carry that pizza as if it were a priceless work of art. He would care about how he lowered that pizza to the table; he’d lay it down as if placing it in front of a king. And all the while, he would contribute warmth and good grace and he’d also share his excellent sense of humour.
And the result? Well, his work didn’t magically turn into some ‘dream job’, but it did become much more fulfilling. He wasn’t ‘just waiting pizzas’ anymore; now he was contributing to people’s lives, challenging his body, engaging in the world, developing his mindfulness skills, and having moments of fun along the way. He was staggered by the difference it made. The dread disappeared and so did the boredom. He hadn’t closed the reality gap — there was still a huge difference between the job he ideally wanted and the one he had — but he had discovered the fulfilment of living with purpose.