别把自己太当回事儿

By Melissa Dahl

There is a meme1 that speaks directly to the hearts and minds of the overly self-conscious. Perhaps youve seen it； it goes something like this： “Brain： ‘I see you are trying to sleep. May I offer you a selection of your most embarrassing memories from the past 10 years？”

At first， it seems odd to think that this meme is so popular among those of us whom you would call “millennials2，” who grew up steeped in the self-esteem movement of the 1990s. We were raised， after all， to love ourselves， not to quietly torture ourselves with decadeold memories. We were taught in classroom exercises how special we were， the prevailing pop-psych theory of the day being that high self-esteem would carry us to success.

And yet this turns out to be poor preparation for dealing with the everyday embarrassments of being human. Instead of single-mindedly3 trying to love yourself， may I suggest a selfdirected attitude that has been famously called the opposite of love： indifference.

In the 2000s， as the self-esteem movement was ageing， psychology researchers began publishing a series of papers on something called self-compassion， which Kristin Neff at the University of Texas at Austin in 2003 defined this way：

Being open to and moved by ones own suffering， experiencing feelings of caring and kindness toward oneself， taking an understanding， nonjudgmental4 attitude toward ones inadequacies and failures， and recognising that ones own experience is part of the common human experience.

Back then， much of this work sought to contrast selfcompassion with self-esteem. In one study， researchers asked college students to recall an embarrassing high-school memory. Some of the students were then given writing prompts meant to bring out their self-compassionate side； they were told to “list ways in which other people also experience similar events，” and to express “understanding， kindness， and concern to themselves in the same way that they might express concern to a friend.” In contrast， other students were given writing prompts intended to stoke5 their self-esteem； they were told to “write down their positive characteristics” and to describe why an incident wasnt really their fault—and that， anyhow， the event “does not really indicate anything about the kind of person they are.”

The point， the researchers go on to argue in that paper， subtitled “The Implications of Treating Oneself Kindly，” is that the tenets6 of self-esteem will tell you to try to convince yourself that the stupid thing you did wasnt really all that stupid—or if it was， that it was someone elses fault. Self-esteem tells you to focus on all your wonderful， positive qualities. In contrast， selfcompassion says its best to acknowledge your own role in an unflattering7 moment； when the memories come back at night， a self-compassionate person will say to herself： “Huh， yeah—that really was pretty embarrassing.”

But shell also say： “So what？” Plenty of other people have embarrassed themselves in similar ways. In the end， this study showed that those whod been prodded toward the direction of self-esteem felt worse about themselves after remembering the high-school embarrassment than those whod been led toward self-compassion.

Self-esteem has fallen out of favour， and it is starting to seem these days as if self-compassion is taking its place. The headlines that keep popping up are： “Why Self-Love Is Important and How to Cultivate It”； “Eight Powerful Steps to Self-Love”； “The Not-So-Secret Secret to Happiness： Be Kinder to Yourself， Okay？”. The focus in these stories tends to stay squarely on the first part of Neffs 15-year-old definition： “Experiencing feelings of caring and kindness toward oneself， taking an understanding， nonjudgmental attitude toward ones inadequacies and failures.” From reading many of these pieces， self-compassion seems like self-kindness， and nothing more.

But its the second part of that definition that has proven the most helpful for me： “Recognising that ones own experience is part of the common human experience.” Its the idea of taking a zoomed-out8 look at yourself， and realising that you are more similar to others than you are different， even considering how ridiculous you often are. As Neff said in an interview： “When we fail， its not ‘poor me. Its ‘well， everyone fails. Everyone struggles. This is what it means to be human.”

In fact， its this part of the definition of selfcompassion that makes me question whether it should be called self-compassion at all. Neffs concept isnt really about adoring yourself， or not entirely， anyway； this piece of it isnt actually about you. Rather， its about the importance of recalling that you are but one small part of an interconnected whole.

For me， the term “self-indifference” communicates this part of Neffs message better than her own term does： When it comes to embarrassing moments， it means considering your own highlight reel9 of flaws， and acknowledging that， yes， maybe the moment really was that bad—but then responding with a shrug.

Really， though， self-indifference and selfcompassion are just new-fangled10 terms for an ancient concept： humility. We tend to think of humility as if it means putting yourself down， a mischaracterisation that a recent study in the Journal of Applied Psychology seems to buy into in its examination of“humble leaders.” Humility in a manager， according to these researchers， is defined as “being open to admitting ones limitations， shortcomings and mistakes.” To be humble， in these researchers view， is to focus on your flaws.

But modern scholars who study humility see it differently. Humble people dont focus on their flaws. Its more that humble people dont focus on themselves very much at all. “This is not to say that a humble person fails to care about her own welfare or pursue her own interests—it is simply that she sees these as being deeply intertwined with the welfare and interests of others，” write the authors of a 2017 paper in The Journal of Positive Psychology. You are important， and you are worthy of love， just like we millennials were taught in school—but thats true only because everyone is important， and everyone is worthy of love. You matter because everyone else matters. It reminds me again of the way in which Neff defines what she would call self-compassion， and I would call self-indifference：“Recognising that ones own experience is part of the common human experience.” Maybe the most compassionate attitude you can take toward yourself is to stop obsessing over yourself.

This is the great relief of self-indifference， especially for those of us raised in the self-esteem movement. The truth is that you arent that big of a deal. And isnt that great？

有一句流行语扎了那些过于自我的人的心。也许你已经看过了；话是这么说的：“大脑：‘我注意到您要睡了。我能为您放送过去10年来您最尴尬的回忆集锦吗？”

乍一想到这个梗在我们这些被称为“千禧一代”的人中如此受欢迎似乎很奇怪。这批人在20世纪90年代的自尊运动中长大。毕竟，我们从小到大被教导要爱自己，别静悄悄地用陈年往事折磨自己。我们在课堂练习中被教导我们有多么特别，那个时代盛行的流行心理学理论认为高度的自尊会带领我们走向成功。

然而结果却是我们没能准备好应对那些生而为人所必经的日常尴尬。别光顾着一心一意地爱自己，请允许我提出一种自我导向的态度作为替代，这种态度十分出名，被称为爱的对立面：淡然。

在21世纪前10年，随着自尊运动日薄西山，心理学研究人员开始发表一系列关于自悯的论文，2003年得克萨斯大学奥斯汀分校的克丽丝廷·内夫将其定义为：

接受自己的痛苦并为自己的痛苦而感动，感受对自己的关怀和善意，对自己的不足与失败采取理解、不偏不倚的态度，并且认识到自己的经历是人之共有。

当时，这类研究有很多是将自悯与自尊进行对比。在一项研究中，研究人员要求大学生回想一段高中时期发生的尴尬记忆。然后，一些学生会收到用来引导出他们自悯的那一面的写作提示；他们被要求“列出其他人也会经历类似事件的方式”，并“像关心朋友那样表达对自己的理解、善意和关心”。作为对比，其他学生得到的写作提示则是为了激发出他们的自尊；他们被要求“写下他们的积极特征”，并描述为什么某件事情并非他们的错—— 而且，无论如何，那件事情“并不能真正反映他们是什么样的人”。

研究人员在那篇副标题为“善待自己的意义”的论文中继续论述道：关键是自尊的原则会让你尽力说服自己，你干的蠢事儿其实并没有那么蠢——如果确实很蠢的话，那也是别人的错。自尊要你关注自身所有美好、积极的品质。相比之下，自悯则要你最好承认自己在某个丢脸的时刻所扮演的角色；深夜回想起来的时候，一个自悯的人会对自己说：“嗯，是的——真的尴尬死了。”

但她也会说：“那又怎样？”很多人都会有类似的尴尬经历。最后，这项研究表明，那些被导向自尊的学生在想起高中的尴尬事儿后，比那些被导向自悯的人感觉更糟。

自尊已經失宠，如今似乎自悯正开始取而代之。不断涌现的头条新闻是：《为什么自爱很重要以及如何培养它》《获得自爱的八大步骤》《走向幸福不算秘密的秘密：对自己再好点儿，好吗？》。这些故事倾向于把焦点完全放在内夫15年前所下定义的前一部分：“感受对自己的关怀和善意，对自己的不足与失败采取理解、不偏不倚的态度”。通过阅读这些文章，你会发现自悯似乎就是自爱，仅此而已。

但正是这个定义的后一部分对我最有帮助：“认识到自己的经历是人之共有”。这个观点就是从更远的角度看到自己的渺小，并认识到你与其他人更相似而非更不同，甚至想想自己经常会表现得多么荒谬。正如内夫在采访中所说的那样：“当我们失败时，不是‘我真可怜，而是‘好吧，人人都会失败。人人都在挣扎。这就是生而为人的意义。”

事实上，正是自悯定義中的这一部分让我怀疑这是否应该被称为自悯。内夫的概念并不是要你热爱自己，至少不完全是；这部分定义实际上并不是关于你的。相反，重要的是让你想起自己只是一个相互关联的整体中的一小部分。

对我来说，“自若”一词比内夫自己的术语更能传达她信息中的这一部分：就那些尴尬的时刻而言，这意味着想想自己人生污点的精彩回放，并且承认，是的，也许这一刻真的是很糟糕——然后耸耸肩淡然处之。

但实际上，自若和自悯只是一个古老概念——谦逊——的新说法。我们倾向于认为谦逊好像就意味着让自己放低姿态，这是一种错误的描述。《应用心理学杂志》最近的一项针对“谦逊的领导者”所开展的研究似乎就犯了这个错误。按照这些研究人员的说法，管理者的谦逊被定义为“愿意承认自己的局限、缺点和错误”。谦逊，在这些研究人员看来，就是要关注你的缺点。

但研究谦逊的现代学者对此有不同的见解。谦逊的人并不关注他们的缺点。进一步来说，谦虚的人根本就不怎么关注自己。“这并不是说一个谦逊的人不关心自己的幸福或不追求自己的利益——只是她认为这些是与他人的幸福和利益密切相关的。”《积极心理学杂志》2017年的一篇论文的作者写道。你很重要，你值得爱，就像我们千禧一代在学校里被教导的一样—— 但这只是因为每个人都很重要，每个人都值得爱。你很重要是因为其他人都很重要。这再次让我想起内夫所谓自悯的定义，而我会称之为自若：“认识到自己的经历是人之共有”。也许你可以对自己采取的最怜悯的态度就是停止对自己的迷恋。

这是自若带来的巨大宽慰，特别是对于我们这些在自尊运动中长大的人尤其如此。事实就是，你没什么了不起的。那不是很好吗？

1. meme： 该词最初源自英国著名科学家理查德·道金斯（Richard Dawkins）所著的《自私的基因》（The Selfish Gene）一书，其含义是指“在诸如语言、观念、信仰、行为方式等的传递过程中与基因在生物进化过程中所起的作用类似的那个东西”。为了读上去与gene一词相似，道金斯去掉希腊字根mimeme（原为“模仿”之意）的词头mi，把它变为meme，这样的改变还很容易使人联想到该词跟英文的“记忆”（memory）一词有关，或是联想到法文的“同样”或“自己”（même）一词。译法有“媒母”“米姆”“弥母”“模因”“拟子”“文化基因”等，在流行文化中亦可翻译为“梗”。

2. millenials： 千禧一代，是指出生于20世纪末期，在跨入21世纪以后达到成年年龄的一代人。这代人的成长时期几乎同时和互联网/计算机科学的形成与高速发展时期相吻合。

3. single-mindedly： 一心一意地，专心致志地。

4. nonjudgmental： 不按个人道德标准进行评定的，不偏不倚的。

5. stoke： 激起。

6. tenet： 原则，信条。

7. unflattering： 贬损的，有损形象的。

8. zoom out： 用变焦距镜头使景物缩小，即将景物拉远。相反的表达是zoom in。

9. highlight reel： 精彩回放。

10. new-fangled： 新式的，新流行的。