At Odds With Maslow

I've often posted about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, and how I absolutely disagree with it. Maslow presumes that we move "up" a hierarchy,and that basic physiological needs must be secured before we can move on to other "levels":



I disagree, since this would seem to imply that the chronically poor cannot be self actualized, nor do they have strong social relationships, sense of self, sense of beauty, etc... because they are absolutely focused on the physical needs they are at risk of losing, or are deprived of by their economic condition... That without food and shelter security (things an increasing number of us lack) there cannot be morality, creativity, acceptance, or sense of purpose. I'm calling bullshit on that.

And while it's true that without any food, or without breathing, there isn't going to be much of the rest of that stuff going on, many of us, especially in today's economic environment, never achieve the level of security in basic needs that Maslow's theory states we need in order to have those other things, like sense of family, morality, and creativity.

I think we all have different hierarchy of needs as individuals: that our "needs" are based on our values, whether we focus on the immediate or can look beyond to provide for our future, and whether or not we see ourselves as having any higher aspirations than the immediate needs of our bodies.  One thing that Maslow has on his hierarchy that I don't consider a need is sex, which is often listed in the basic physiological needs category.  Sure, sex is necessary for the survival of the species, but it's not obligatory for any individual to continue his/her genetic makeup by procreating. In fact, if less people chose to procreate we'd be a lot better off as a world society.  On the other hand, I acknowledge sex isn't just for procreation, in which case we'd have to bump it out of the social category and move it to recreation, which I suppose would be in the self actualization category.

Maslow rightly shows that if you're not eating or breathing, there's not much point in thinking about meaning in life, but I also feel if you're incapable of finding some meaning in life, there's not much point to going on eating and breathing.

My own personal hierarchy, which I admit isn't fully developed, places priority on future individual survival for an individual and living family... which excludes any need for procreation... and focuses on continued, not momentary survival.

I know, from years of blogging on several platforms (some of which no longer exist) that people really don't understand what motivates me, what I think is necessary and important to life, and my own hierarchy of needs.  I hope this graphic will clear some of that up.



One of the things I've learned is that you can survive without security... that life holds no guarantees. If we were to wait for security in physical needs to go on to other things, we'd never achieve those other things.  We'd have no capacity for hope for the future, no ability to love, no beauty in our lives.  That's no way to live, and I don't think anyone truly lives that way.  Even in the worst hardships, without creativity, hope, and purpose, there is no survival beyond the immediate.  According to Maslow, few people reach self-actualization. It would be a sad commentary on humanity if that were true.

Early Morning in Albuquerque

It's early morning. The birds are chirping, punctuated now and then by the roar of our local zoo's lion, Cosmo, clearly audible from my apartment. The sky is the color of amber, the color of the sunrise though the smoke and haze of the Whitewater Fire burning in the Gila. There's an air quality alert out today, and residents of the city are urged to limit outdoor activity.

I continue to pack for the move, which I know isn't going to go smoothly at this point. There's the little matter of $12, which an online resident screening company claims I have in collections from a previous apartment. That previous apartment denies it. And even though the previous apartment and the apartment I'm planning to move into have the same management company, they have a "process" that involves waiting for an OK from the online screening company. That process involves the management company (the office at the Albuquerque apartments) writing a letter (snail mail) to itself (in the Santa Fe apartment) and then forwarding it on to the online screening company, then waiting for the online screening company to correct the mistake in their computers, then OKing my application and continuing with my move in process.

Then Section 8 has to get an inspection done, which they only do once a week on Fridays.

Which means I'll be moving my stuff into storage on June 2nd and finding a homeless shelter or cheap hotel with weekly rates, since there's no way this will all get done by Thursday, even assuming they could have scheduled an inspection on such short notice.

There's a certain level of defeatism that goes with all this. A certain level of feeling that I am in no way master of my own destiny, that I'm flotsam on the stream of life, being borne along on ribbons of red tape, pushed by the tides of governmental agency changes, and driven by the winds of the whims of those who handle the paperwork and have no idea that the papers in their hands are icons of the living, breathing people whose fate is determined by which file those papers fall into and how efficiently they're handled.

All this makes it difficult to great the day with hope and optimism.

I'm trying to let some of that go, trying to focus on the challenges of today, which include such mundane things as Cay not liking the plain yogurt I bought to make dill yogurt dip and wanting vanilla to put fruit in, or trying to decide whether it's time to change the ant traps, or whether it's safe to risk just a little time out of doors if I'm careful and carry my rescue inhaler. But right now all I'm thinking about is at what point do I need to repack a little more carefully? To select out different items from the still open boxes from the medicine cabinet, my clothing, and my office supplies?

And at what point in this week do I sit Cay down, explain that we're going to be without a home for at least a week, and teach her how to pack for the inevitability of being without a secure roof over her head? I've been avoiding the certainty in our discussions... trying to keep hope alive.

Right now it seems so quiet and peaceful here. But inside the dark clouds are roiling as I try to fight back the despair of another bout of homelessness.