A good friend once told me that he avoids the word "should" (as a disclaimer, he also claims I misremember what he says, so I may just be inspired by him, rather than quoting him).

I was reminded of this today when listening to a podcast of a few New York City comedians. One of them told a story about one of their recent guest appearances on a different podcast, in which they blew up in anger over vulgar talk about women.

The comedian complained that the other hosts were talking about what they believe they should talk about, in order to please their audience, and because that's what similar podcasts talk about. The young male audiences have been conditioned to expect vulgar talk about women, so that's what the podcast hosts talk about - despite, and I agree, this talk never amounting to action (I am being vague as I feel I should keep my writing relatively free of vulgarity, see the note ¹ below).

The drive, the pull, to do as I should, has been a struggle for me, in pretty much every area of my life. It's a current that drags me to places that I don't want to go. It's a mountain that I force myself to climb, despite having no interest in reaching the summit.

Grading well in school was a strong should, and evolved easily into strong performance at work. As a consequence, I dropped out (more than once), and have had several nasty splits with work. I was so wrapped up in the need to excel, in the need to prove myself, that I pushed myself past blinking flashing beeping warning monitors until I burned out.

I felt that I should be right, all of the time, about everything, mistaking arrogance and condescension for confidence and wisdom.

I felt that I should write a certain way, with intelligence, wit, fancy words and grammar, letting these self-imposed rules limit me from writing anything at all.

I felt that I should take on more and more responsibilities until I collapse from the weight, because I'm only worth what I can do. It has taken me a long time to learn that I have worth regardless of my responsibilities and achievements.

I felt that I should put myself second, others first, mistaking codependence for empathy and altruism.

I felt that I should measure up against others who are more successful than me.

I felt that I should be able to achieve competency and excellence in any undertaking without appropriate training or consideration of my natural talents. This has multiple parts, one being the "expert beginner" syndrome, another patience and acceptance of the time it takes to practice.

I could keep going. (Should I keep going?)

Shoulds cloud my perception. They are nasty, well dug in, hard to eliminate enemies. I liked the metaphor in the Four Agreements, that revealing sores to the sunlight is how they are cured. It can be painful to look at them clearly and directly, but healing is working through, no shortcuts.

I don't have the solution to shoulds. I have heard that replacing should with want and need is a good approach: in effect removing the judgment from outside and listening to what one feels inside.

It's an active process to work through, and I find that should will sneak up when I am not guarded. But I have noticed that it's gotten easier, that I feel lighter and less stressed, less judgmental, about what I should be doing, and more in tune with what I want to be doing.