Sh*t To Help You Show Up November 17, 2023

Sesame Street and Samin Nosrat are what we need right now

If you had to boil your core beliefs down to a handful of ideas and then explain them to a kindergartner, could you do it?

It’s possible to oversimplify complex issues, sure, but I’ve been thinking this week about how often we avoid taking a stand or doing what we know is right by defaulting to the idea that everything is just so complicated.

What if it’s not?

We encounter the world of other people long before we have the developmental capacity to engage in discernment, which is a key aspect of practicing integrity. But that doesn’t mean children lack the capacity for moral clarity. Moral education for little kids tends to focus on behavior— don’t hit, don’t lie, share, treat other people the way you want to be treated. Basic Sesame Street kind of stuff.

The why underneath these admonishments is rarely explicitly articulated. But kids still understand the why (assuming the adults around them mostly follow those same rubrics in their own behavior). They get that those rules are based in certain ideas about people and relationship— that everyone has value, hurting people is wrong and only makes more problems, and we all deserve equal access to available resources.

They understand these ideas instinctually because kids are generally empathetic and open to other people. They want to feel happy and loved because it feels good. They don’t want to get hurt or be angry because it feels bad. Other people obviously work the same way because they can feel what other people feel.

It’s a rare kid who doesn’t pick up on other people’s emotions and, as a result, prefers that the people around them feel good rather than bad. When they follow the rules of pro-social behavior it’s somewhat self-serving, sure, because their porosity means other people feeling good rebounds upon them, but that’s still true when we’re adults (assuming we still have any empathy) so that’s not a problem. It’s just interdependence.

When people engage in behavior that is inconsistent with those ideas and behaviors, kids also know there’s something off. Children are remarkable barometers when it comes to hypocrisy. How many parents have laid out the rules about “how we behave in this family” only to be confronted with “But you said…” when they do something that falls outside those boundaries? I would guess, all of them. I certainly have.

I got to thinking about all of this after reading Samin Nosrat’s award-winning cookbook, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat. I’d seen the Netflix show based on it (which is great), but I’d never read the original book, and I have to say, it’s brilliantly done. Nosrat cuts through all of the complications of cooking, boiling down the central principles of every recipe to four basic factors. Once you understand the role each of these four basic factors plays in affecting the ingredients within a given recipe, she argues, then you can improvise. The ability to improvise successfully is the sign of a great cook, and Nosrat believes we can all be great cooks.

Similarly, I believe we can all practice integrity and be great people. How do I define “great people”? In my book, great people are the kind of people that can be trusted and relied upon, who strive to be consistent and authentic, who are kind and able to hold other people’s imperfections with some mercy. They are willing to stand up for what they believe is right, but are creative and flexible in their approach. They take life and their responsibilities seriously, but never, ever themselves.

That may not be your definition, which is okay. Feel free to weigh in with your own definition in the comments.

Being a great person isn’t easy. Not because we aren’t naturally made for it (primal emotions and our tendency towards tribalism notwithstanding), but because we get stymied by complications. This is, admittedly, fair. Holding complication is one of those “look at me, being an adult” kinds of skills, meaning that it’s difficult to pull off. I’m a fan, however, as hard as it may be.

It’s easier to be seduced by complication, though. To use it as a crutch or an excuse, instead of just holding it mindfully. That’s why I’m gonna argue that pulling a Samin Nosrat on your core beliefs is a useful exercise. This practicing integrity business is complicated, just like being a great cook is complicated. So, break it down— “it” being your beliefs about people and the world— into a short list of core components. No more than a handful, with no excessive clauses or caveats.

Pretend you have to explain it to Grover or Big Bird. Use language that a 5-year old could understand.

Here, I’ll start:

1. Everyone is important and valuable.

2. How I treat people matters. I’m responsible for the impact of my behaviors on them.

3. Feel all your feelings, but don’t act on all of them.

4. Leave things better than you found them.

5. There is far more that I don’t know than I ever will know.

Easily, 95% of everything I do in practicing my integrity circles back around to these five beliefs. If something I do is in contradiction to one of them I know immediately, right in my gut, because I feel badly. Or I’ve made someone else feel badly, which then makes me feel badly.

Seriously, it’s still kindergarten over here in many respects. And that’s a good thing.

Being clear about my core beliefs and practicing living into them brings the confidence to improvise, to meet all the complications of this life with flexibility, creativity, and courage.

What are your five core beliefs?