People generally don’t want to accept that change requires experiencing breakdowns. Perhaps they consider the price of development too high to “pay.” But the truth is, this is inevitable if the change is to last beyond a single day.
In essence, we only truly grow or change when an outdated program loses its validity within us, when we recognize its inadequacy. Every such instance involves some degree of loss, some level of collapse.
Programs have significance in our lives, but generally speaking, the more someone is “driven by programs,” the more they operate routinely. The more we free ourselves from these programs, the more creative we become, the more present we can be in life, and the more capable we are of actually thinking.
For example, they manifest in our lives as beliefs such as:
If you study hard or work a lot, you’ll get rich.
If you eat less, you’ll lose weight.
You have to give to receive.
If you go out with wet hair in the cold, you’ll get meningitis.
You’re not achieving your goal because you’re not positive enough.
We fear the unknown… etc.
In our daily lives, we constantly repeat numerous learned beliefs that hinder us from moving forward. Some come from education, others from the media or famous people, or they’re proverbs and clichés we chant without knowing why, accepting them as truth. This closes off the possibility of discovering what is actually true—or at least closer to it.
Why is this impossible without a breakdown?
Because we fiercely defend our convictions and beliefs (our programs), as they represent safety and survival for us.
Do we think most doctors don’t understand this because they’re foolish or malicious?
No, doctors are neither stupid nor evil—they’re proud.
The academic perspective preferred by doctors —something they also try to force into the average person’s everyday life— is deeply ingrained in them, because they’ve spent far more time studying it, taken countless exams on it, and their lives depended far more on the curriculum and their ability to recite it correctly.
Teaching and learning work much like dog training. On one hand, if the dog sits on command, it gets a treat—its desires are fulfilled by following certain steps. On the other hand, if it behaves undesirably, it faces scolding or pain.
These lessons don’t necessarily come from a classroom but occur naturally in life’s small moments.
As children, we see our parents defer to doctors, so we adopt this behavior.
As children, we see the media dominate our parents, so we submit to it as well.
If our parents are doctors, the belief is practically in our blood, and since Mom and Dad are part of us, their words become sacred against the outside world.
After years of study, we become utterly convinced that what we learned is the truth, the good, the correct, reinforced by hundreds or thousands of affirmations.
Add to that our pride in enduring five to ten years of rigorous programming—how could we take seriously someone who hasn’t gone through it or, worse, claims the opposite of what’s enshrined in academic literature?
Now, a dog can be trained to attack or bite someone, or it can be trained to be kind and friendly.
So, studying something for a long time doesn’t mean we “know” anything about the subject (in any field) or that it aligns with reality.
For doctors, the learned programming often shifts when they see in practice that most treatments are anti-life, and the “beliefs” they learned are repeatedly debunked in their daily work.
But until all their faith rests in the curriculum, they’ll defend it with every tool at their disposal.
