Adler and Me

            The human psyche is a huge mystery of great interest to me. In graduate school, I was taught many different theories that each had different views of how the human psyche is formed and maintained. I was made aware of a variety of approaches because of the belief of my academic program (and most of psychotherapy in general) that a trans-theoretical approach, one that recognizes the strengths and shortcomings of many different schools of thought, is more well-rounded than a loyalist approach, one that strictly adheres to one theory and assumes that it is best. I admit, though, that the theories I like most, I tend to use more often (such as the existential approach). However, I don’t consider myself a loyalist to this theory, and will accommodate without reservation other theories and approaches to problems presented in a counseling environment. One theory that I don’t focus on very often but recognize the importance of is the Adlerian theory of psychotherapy, called individual psychology.

            To begin to understand this theory, it’s important to recognize its namesake, Alfred Adler. As a boy, Adler was stricken with polio, so while other children played, he many times watched from the sidelines. His athletic and well-liked brother especially outshined Adler. Unsurprisingly, the inferiority complex is a main belief in Adlerian psychology. According to Adler, all people battle for belonging, control, and ultimately survival. (Of course, this is a gross understatement.) (Juxtapose this battle for survival with Frankl’s search for meaning for an awesome discussion.) Adler was adept at focusing on interior concepts, such as his own desires and how that developed in him. One of the most interesting ideas brought forth by the Adlerian theory is the formation of people’s personalities as evidenced by their first memories.

            Human memory is fascinating. Some events from over ten years ago are remembered easily and sometimes with pain-staking detail. However, typically one has difficulty remembering the lunch he or she had yesterday. The inexplicable part to this is that the memory of ten years ago may be of an uneventful and unimportant lunch someone has had. Adler asked why people are able to recall some events from our past and not others. He was especially interested in a person’s first memories. He theorized that the reason we remember certain events from our youth isn’t random, but we remember them because they helped to form our personalities. I shall provide an example of some of my first memories and hopefully show that they were woven into a pattern that became my personality.

            My very first memory is of being at my family’s business at about two-years-old, and playing hide-and-seek with my uncle. I remember calling out his name, “Harold!” (which, by the way, was my first word). I couldn’t find him, and my parents called me to the kitchen table, but I wasn’t ready to quit. I kept looking for him. Adler says that instead of finding importance in the events of the memory, the importance is in the feelings of the memory. This memory shows that I was hardheaded, even as a toddler. To put that in a better light, when I find a goal or something important to me, I tend to not lose focus of it.

            Another early memory of mine is from my last day of school in kindergarten. My teacher (who is a very nice lady and who I still see occasionally, though this memory embarrasses me) asked her class if they had a good teacher that year, or an old witch. In a sing-songy child chorus voice the entire class said “A gooooooood teacher.” Except for one conniving boy who said “An old witch.” Yep, that was me. I was hoping that other people would say it with me as a joke, but no one did. The joke hadn’t gone off as anticipated. The teacher really twisted the knife when she said, “Thank everybody, except Matt.” I say twisted the knife being more accurate than melodramatic: the guilt I felt and the fear that I’d hurt my teacher’s feelings tore at me. At recess, I went up to her desk and said that I was sorry, but the lesson was learned. For me, causing harm to other people results in me brooding over it and getting a knot in my stomach over it. (Writing about this 20 years later, I still feel bad about it.) When I intentionally harm other people (even for laughs), I end up hurting worse than them, so I better not do it.

            My uncles decided to play a prank on the nephews and nieces when I was about 7. Someone radioed to their CB one Christmas Eve night when the whole family was gathered at my grandparents. The person on the radio was Santa, who sent out an SOS, saying that aliens were chasing him in his sleigh. My uncles got a shotgun and fired it into the sky one, two, three times. After the third shot, Santa radioed in to say that he was safe and the aliens were gone. I remember being excited at all this excitement, confused as to why it was happening so fast, nervous at the loud noise of the firing gun, but ultimately safe and not afraid. I think that this attitude of experiencing a fast-paced and surprising turn of events but feeling safe and secure has lasted with me throughout my life.

            From these three memories, I can derive that I am a focused, sensitive, and trusting guy. Maybe this Adlerian exercise doesn’t seem 100% accurate to you, but it is fun. I encourage you to think of your first memories. Don’t focus on what happened, but try to decipher your feelings about what was going on. According to Adlerian thought, the reason that you remember these events is because they were essential in forming your personality. Your character was like wet cement being hardened to become permanent. The human psyche is a puzzle; any attempt to decipher it is time well spent, in my opinion.

This post is dedicated to Mrs. Nancy, who was a good teacher, and not an old witch.