An Antidote to Imposter Syndrome
By: Kaitlyn S. C. Hatch
Tags: Buddhism, Dharma, Imposter Syndrome, Personal Responsibility

Despite the assumptions of others, I’m not particularly confident much of the time. This shouldn’t be a big surprise. Most humans suffer from a sense of unworthiness, or ‘imposter-syndrome’ — worried we aren’t as put together as people think we are and we will be found out at any moment.

Imposter-syndrome rears its head often in the days leading up to me teaching a course on how to use Buddhist practice in the work of social restoration (as if Buddhist practice is anything but socially restorative). I struggle a lot with fear that the whole thing will be a flop, or someone in the group will derail the conversation and I’ll not be able to bring folks back to the focus of the work.

Such fears are perfect for practice. When we meet our edges is right where you could say “the rubber hits the road” for anyone engaged in working with their minds.

There’s so much anxiety connected to ‘what if’ because of the resistance we have to the possibility of things not going our way. Accepting that yes, sometimes something won’t go our way, can be the perfect antidote. I’ve used this approach with many things, particularly heavy, painful possibilities like: ‘What if my cat dies?’

What if she does? One day she will. And it will hurt. It will be devastating. It will be painful and sad and heartbreaking. And I will live. Just as I have lived through grief before and learned to adjust to a new normal absent of the physical presence of someone I love.

Knowing I can work with a ‘what if’ like my cat dying, makes it a lot less difficult to sit with something like: ‘What if I can’t answer something someone asks during a class I’m teaching?’

I don’t know every possible answer, and I don’t need to. I also don’t need to pretend I have a response to something when I don’t. This is a trap that’s easy to fall into when we’re sitting in the teacher’s chair. We think we have to have a response and it needs to sound really wise or savvy. But no one is an expert in everything. We just need to know our own mind and practice and share that with clarity and skill.

Owning my mind is something I’ve been working on for years, almost the entire decade I’ve considered myself a dharma practitioner. But it’s only recently that I’ve been able to dig into it a little more and see the fruition of all my effort.

Listening to Reverend angel Kyodo williams has been a significant help for this practice. In a talk they gave for the Meditation in the City podcast, they say: “You don’t get to have your own mind. You only have the collective mind.” This is referring to cultural influences on how we think and the impact socialisation has on our implicit biases. Our mind is not free of outside influences. Our opinions, thoughts, ideas and perspectives are shaped by the world in which we live.

Another teaching Reverend angel gives often is that you are responsible for your own mind; other people’s minds are not your business. This sounds like it conflicts with the first teaching, but what they are saying is we are influenced by collective ideas, and it’s our job to work with how those influences impact us as an individual. We can change our own mind — we can’t change anyone else’s.

This was something I’ve understood on an intellectual level for a very long time but only took to heart (and gut) in the last year. It is common to believe, if other people just changed their behaviour, things would get better. I did this a lot with past partners. I would listen to a talk or read something in a book and think if my partner had this information they would change! For the better! So I’d share the thing, prepared for it to blow their mind. Instead, I would be met with disdain, annoyance, and oftentimes anger. I didn’t get why they were so upset when I was just trying to help.

This is not to say we shouldn’t share things we think others will benefit from, but anything we share should be offered without expectations. To prepare for teaching for the first time — to a mixed audience of folks from very different backgrounds and experiences — I realised taking this to heart was essential. I work with my mind every single day and I can speak to my experience, but how I work with my mind is up to me and how another works with their mind is up to them.

As long as I remember that my mind is my responsibility, and I’m not responsible for the minds of anyone else in the room, imposter-syndrome can’t get in my way. I don’t have to change anyone’s mind, or figure out how they should apply the teachings to their life. That is their business and responsibility, not mine. My responsibility is to show up authentically and share my practice in good faith, as an offering folks can use as they want to, if they want to.

From this mindset confidence blossoms because I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone. I trust in my practice. I trust in it because I see the results of it. If someone else doesn’t trust in my practice, no big deal. There is no need to convince anyone of the validity or depth of my practice. I let it speak for itself and invite others to judge it on their own merit, according to what works for them.