Why complaining feels good and yet we’re made to praise
I’ve discerned that complaining helps me feel in control. Over time, my brain became addicted to the feeling.
Complaining can be very satisfying. There’s nothing better than getting the ear of a good friend and launching into all the things wrong with the world and how everyone is making this journey we call life miserable and why (oh why!) can’t people just stop being so annoying and start listening to me. When I manage to fire off a good rant, it makes me feel warm and cozy. Never mind the fact that I’m totally wrong. Never mind the fact that my attitude is unreasonable and unfair, or that I’m dragging my friend down with me into the muck. I still chase that feeling.
There are days when it seems all I do is complain. I complain about how other people drive, the line at the coffee shop, how much work is piled on my desk, how frustrated I am about what a friend said, how messy the house is, how bad the weather is, how I didn’t get the best parking spot, how the plumber isn’t calling me back and why did our shower even start leaking in the first place? It’s not fair.
Having become aware of my cynical need to complain. I’ve worked at significantly decreasing my negative word-count. I’ve asked myself some hard questions about why I fell into such a bad habit. Why is it that complaining feels so good.
I’ve discerned that complaining helps me feel in control. It gives me a sense of superiority. Over time, my brain became addicted to the feeling. All my neurons are now wired to respond with a sense of relief when I fire off a good complaint.
The problem is, even if it feels good to complain, it’s exceedingly harmful. It turns a person inwards, towards pride and lack of appreciation. Complaining blinds us to the good and beautiful, and thus is blinds us to God. Complaint is not meant to be our dominant language.
We are meant to speak praise.
Praise is the natural language of someone attuned to God. It isn’t a naive, generic insistence on false enthusiasm in the face of legitimate problems. Rather, it’s a specific naming of the blessings and beauty we experience on a daily basis in spite of any ill that might befall us.
Not denying that some days are harder than others, praise nevertheless insists on seeking out the presence of God in all circumstances. Having identified the divine presence at work in and through specific events and people, offering praise for them becomes a sort of sacrifice that pushes us through the doorway of Heaven. Even the darkest winter day, the most melancholic season of life, even a traffic jam on Monday morning can be a threshold of hope.
The effort is my gift
It takes practice. Especially if, like me, you’re prone to cynicism and have indulged in it for a long time. Persistent negativity is a defense mechanism. If I always expect the worst, I’m never disappointed. If I always default to expressing reservations, it makes me sound smart. I can always go to a work meeting or church committee and point out everything that’s wrong with the ideas under discussion, that way I’ll never have to be committed to a risky decision that might fail.
The problem with that attitude, though, is if I consistently retreat to a cynical, risk-averse attitude, if I never make the decision to praise the possibilities before me, never silence that inner critic, I will slowly but surely lose the ability to recognize risks worth taking. I won’t be able to orient myself to accepting challenges.
I want to be a praise-maker. Someone who sees the road ahead, recognizing it’s full of dragons and dark forests and yet still marching ahead. Lifting my voice in praise, I seek to acknowledge God’s fidelity. He is praiseworthy. This world he created is praiseworthy. The life he has given me is praiseworthy. The life he has given you is praiseworthy. In return to God’s faithfulness, I’ll offer my own words of fidelity. Even if my own faithfulness is small and imperfect and my words of praise aren’t always offered with full conviction, the effort is my humble gift. I’ll find my place, become part of the solution, offer something positive, be willing to even make a mistake in search of uncovering something beautiful.
What we are made for
St. Augustine says that praise is rooted in our nature and purpose. Praise is not merely an acknowledgment of God's greatness but is a language that unlocks the secret to our existence. We are not made for the curse but for the blessing, so when we praise, we discover more about ourselves, excavating down into our souls and finding that which is redeemable.
For me, praise has become an opportunity to break free from passivity. When I praise God in prayer, look at a full moon with gratitude, bite my tongue and hold back a complaint, offer intentional words of affirmation to my family, or simply let air fill my lungs and take my proper place in this good world that has been crafted by our Maker, I speak a good word, offer a blessing, and align myself with the truth. Goodness will be victorious. It simply won’t do to be too focused on evil.
Praise makes us ready for glory. Whatever comes our way, it’s an opportunity.
Maybe, it’s in the act of praising that we learn for the first time what really deserves praise. In offering praise, we learn to recognize the good. It’s a risk, to seek brightness in a world so prone to saturating darkness, but praise makes us alive. It opens up the door to a gleaming, luminous reality that overcomes the night. That’s why we praise. Not so much because God needs it, but because we need it.