The Stranger Experiment

Perhaps Jordan B. Peterson isn't what you think

It’s Friday night, July 19th, 2024 - I’m alone in my living room while everyone else is asleep. I want to begin the meat of this post with an apology - to those of you - whoever you are, reading out there.

For the past few months, I have been very strangely locked out of my Substack account, and finally, I am back in. I’m glad to be back, as I haven’t given myself a lengthy sit-down to free-write in a few months. I have inklings of what I hope to discuss in this post, but I’ll also follow the stream of consciousness as it comes to me.

A few months ago, a close friend and I decided to see Jordan B. Peterson speak in person in Reading, Pennsylvania. Before you yell through the screen at me that this guy is some maniacal whack job - hear me out:

I walked into the Santander Arena in Reading, Pennsylvania, with no massive expectations - just an affinity for Peterson’s lust for deep questioning on all things human. I don’t care if you love or hate this guy – you must give him some credit. How does an average Canadian professor of psychology at the University of Toronto become one of the most notorious online figures on the planet in a matter of a decade? I never understood the complete hatred of this guy. Sure, he’s controversial, and I don’t agree with all his thoughts or political stances - but what kind of American citizen would I be if I didn’t give individuals I don’t entirely agree with the chance to tell his/her whole story - to see what moves me?

I looked around this arena and saw thousands of people coming to watch a public intellectual talk about the meaning of life through the purview of his new book, “Those Who Wrestle With God.” I don’t care who you are to get that many Americans in a single room to discuss existentialism - that’s no small feat. His book referenced the Christian God, but his talk wasn’t Christian or religious in presentation - I hadn’t seen that before in this way.

About an hour into his lecture, still going strong, he paused and paced back and forth on the stage. He had been discussing a way to gauge where you’re at in your life. “You know a damn good experiment - tomorrow when you wake up in your house and see your partner and/or kids, and you walk downstairs - take a seat, a pretend you’re a stranger in your house. Look at the walls, the pictures, look at your kids eating breakfast - and if things are good with them, peaceful, loving, ask yourself - damn, ok, why is this good? What is working here? How am I contributing to what’s good in this household? Then ask yourself, how am I contributing to what’s not working in this household? How could I be better than I am to bring more love, peace, and order to this strange home?”

As Peterson painted this picture more and more eloquently, I was brought to tears. How poignant an experiment.

I left that night and promised myself I’d try this. About a week ago, my wife was off working in Manhattan, and my kids at summer camp - and alone in the house, I was sending emails, cleaning up the sink, doing laundry - and then I remembered Peterson’s suggestion. I stopped all my busy work, turned off the music, and slowly walked around my house's rooms. I studied each room, all our furniture, the little messes, the pictures on the walls, the books, and the drywall cracks where our boys had been playing too rough. I exploded into tears. “Holy fucking shit,” I thought to myself - look at this life we’ve created - now almost six years into living in our home.

I’m crying now as I write this - a mixture of some strange melancholy - and a rich, earthy, profound joy of impressions – a dancing beauty of these memories and moments that hurt in their simple brilliance and radiance. Then this guilt creeps in - this deep, bountiful hurt of not feeling like I spend enough time just “being” with the family - deepening our bonds, our knowings of each other - or our comfort and safety in the presence of awesomely human love. Why does it feel at times just so damn hard to let go of one another?

A few days ago, in the middle of the week - my wife, sons, and I were inside; it was early evening - and I heard a much-needed rain begin to fall outside. I immediately shouted, “Let’s go play in the rain.” Our youngest son, C (abbreviated for privacy), said, “Yes - come on!” Minutes later, he and I scootered in our driveway, soaked in the downpour of the rain. We laughed and smiled and reveled in its absurd wetness and silliness. Then my wife and our other son came to watch - in those few moments, I can’t describe my feelings of vitality - of love, connection, and thundering joy. It was just fucking rain - and yet, it was sacred.

Then this guilt creeps back in - this voice of “you’re not doing enough as a dad - you’re not leading and connecting enough, you’re not seeing them enough - you’re not sharing enough with them - you’re missing out on formative possibilities here.”

Objectively, I am trying pretty damn hard.

However, this “trying” could be the exact problem.

I’ve had this strange inkling recently that this “chicken with its head cut off” scurrying that many of us do in the modern world is because we believe that this scurrying and business maintains our illusion of control over our lives.

It is as if we feel that if we just let go of what is, either to the moment or to the naked truth of our lives, everything will come crumbling down.

But what could emerge if we just let go? What are we missing in the periphery of our passing hours?

What if we let go and realize that an immense force we cannot see will catch and support us? Call it God, call it the Self, call it Spirit, call it the Cosmos, call it Life Force, call it the Ancestors - whatever tickles your nether regions - you know what I speak of.

A more recent pal, a hard-to-comprehend kind and wise human and Executive Coach, Kirk Souder, sent this to me in an email earlier this year - after I mentioned I was struggling with this exact issue.

A way to potentially progress on the ego/Self thing is not to make it a battle. I think of it as a relationship. From your point of view, a way of seeing it is Director/Producer (referencing your career as a film and commercial director). We can end up in an optimal place if the ego assumes the Director role when it is designed to be the Producer. If the Self is the Director and determines the vision, they bring in the producer (ego) to figure out how to make it real. In my world, the analogy is CEO/COO. A lot of new age and “spiritual” modalities like to say, “kill the ego!” Or “the ego is bad and must be dampened.” Yet the Spirit gave us a Self/Soul and an ego. Why would that be if the “ego is bad”? When there is a battle in us, even between the ego and Self, we feed the CEO-ship of the ego because the ego IS a battle. But when we address the nature of the relationship and LOVE ALL, things get incredibly orderly, peaceful, and spectacular (because the Self is directing and the ego producing!). :-)

I feel like it’s time to take a backseat and let go.

What about you?

-David B. Godin