One year ago, I cried at work. I did not cry alone in the privacy of my office or a bathroom stall. No, I cried in front of people. I cried twice that day and it signified my acceptance of the end of a long struggle. I read the other day that, “It’s better to cry than be angry, because anger hurts others while tears flow silently through the soul and cleanse the heart.” It was like that.
I had been running off anger for quite a while. Anger that the organization I was working for was going out of business and it did not have to be that way. Anger that people who had control were using it in a way that did not improve matters, but mostly, anger over the fact that no one was listening to me and my brilliant ideas. I had so much insight and so little ability to influence others.
The truth is that I did not try to understand the business of the organization I was working for and since it catered to an elite class of people, I did not care. This disdain showed through and made my efforts, which can actually sometimes be brilliant, ineffective. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was part of the reason I was failing at that job. The tears I cried became the beginning of a transformation that I should have undertaken years ago.
A week and a half after the waterworks, I walked away from that job. I had no other prospects lined up and I did not know what I was going to do to meet my obligations. I did know that I could not stay where I was. Back then, I thought that last sentence meant that I could not stay in that job. I realize now that it meant I could not continue living my life the same.
One year later and I would say that I am just as busy now as I was then, but in a completely different way. I am working again – one level down in an organization about which I do care. I am learning to be part of a team. I am learning how to do my job as well as I can and not worry so much about what others are doing. I am learning how to take time to teach those who work with me. Most importantly, I am learning to go home at the end of the day and spend my free time on other things.
For many people, these things come naturally, but for me this is just another life skill I had to learn from scratch. I will say that my financial position is a little more difficult to navigate, but I will also say that we were not being mindful of our resources. Having less income is forcing a certain focus that keeps our most important priorities in sight, as they should be.
Overall, my life is better. In my twenties, I remember complaining to my mom about all the hours I had to work and all the time I was away from family and friends. She gently pointed out that it was my choice. At the time, I rejected that notion – it was not my choice – I was in a demanding career and those are the hours you work and anyway, as Andy in The Devil Wears Prada says, “I didn’t have a choice!”
Now, 25 years later, I can finally agree with my mother. How I live is my choice, tradeoffs and all. Whether or not that is primarily because of white privilege, I do not know, but I do know that I was able to make changes and survive. As this year of metamorphosis comes to its conclusion, I look forward to building on the great start I finally achieved.
Saturday, November 2, 2019
Saturday, October 26, 2019
The Squeaky Door
There is an old saying that the squeaky wheel gets oiled. I know the saying is old because I said it last night at the dinner table and my teenage son looked at me as though I was talking crazy. Of course, I immediately repeated “the squeaky wheel gets oiled” and then I muttered under my breath, “but not the squeaky door”. My husband noticed my muttering and asked what I meant. Both my son and I looked at him in surprise while he insisted that he had no idea that there was a squeaky door in our house.
The door to the bathroom in the hallway has been squeaking for months. A long grinding squeal causes a wince every time the door is used. You imagine the whole world now knows where you are and what you are doing. My son jumped up from the table, ran down the hall and repeatedly opened and closed the door until we were all painfully aware of just how horrible squeaking can really sound. My husband swore he had never noticed the noise and he got right up and fixed it.
When he returned, he mentioned that if we needed something fixed, we only had to tell him. I told him that I had not asked him to oil the door because I did not want him to feel like he is the handy man. I know he takes great pride in caring for our family and our house. I also know that he will get to all the things when he can, but I had not realized that he had never noticed the squeak and I do not like to “nag”. I also think that I, as a capable twenty-first century woman, should be able to fix a squeaky door on my own. I felt like I was being nice, patient and loving by not asking him to fix a door that I could just as easily fix myself.
One has to wonder if I was actually being nice or if there is something else going on there. I do recall having some uncharitable thoughts about how long it was taking to get this door fixed. As evidenced by my under the breath muttering noted above. If we are being truthful, I should add that even though I could definitely fix the door if I had to, I never really planned to do it.
In reality, the door was squeaky for so long because I expected my husband to notice and fix it. I did not think I had to participate in a squeaky door and I treated him as though he were actually the handy man. Fixing a door is a small matter and yet I somehow managed to turn it into a relational disconnect that I carried around for months. Because it is minor, this is not likely to leave a deep wound on our marriage, at least not by itself. It is a cut and one so innocuous that I almost missed it. How many more have we already endured over the years? Moreover, how many more can we take?
The door to the bathroom in the hallway has been squeaking for months. A long grinding squeal causes a wince every time the door is used. You imagine the whole world now knows where you are and what you are doing. My son jumped up from the table, ran down the hall and repeatedly opened and closed the door until we were all painfully aware of just how horrible squeaking can really sound. My husband swore he had never noticed the noise and he got right up and fixed it.
When he returned, he mentioned that if we needed something fixed, we only had to tell him. I told him that I had not asked him to oil the door because I did not want him to feel like he is the handy man. I know he takes great pride in caring for our family and our house. I also know that he will get to all the things when he can, but I had not realized that he had never noticed the squeak and I do not like to “nag”. I also think that I, as a capable twenty-first century woman, should be able to fix a squeaky door on my own. I felt like I was being nice, patient and loving by not asking him to fix a door that I could just as easily fix myself.
One has to wonder if I was actually being nice or if there is something else going on there. I do recall having some uncharitable thoughts about how long it was taking to get this door fixed. As evidenced by my under the breath muttering noted above. If we are being truthful, I should add that even though I could definitely fix the door if I had to, I never really planned to do it.
In reality, the door was squeaky for so long because I expected my husband to notice and fix it. I did not think I had to participate in a squeaky door and I treated him as though he were actually the handy man. Fixing a door is a small matter and yet I somehow managed to turn it into a relational disconnect that I carried around for months. Because it is minor, this is not likely to leave a deep wound on our marriage, at least not by itself. It is a cut and one so innocuous that I almost missed it. How many more have we already endured over the years? Moreover, how many more can we take?
Saturday, October 19, 2019
Alcohol Moderation
I practice alcohol moderation. I say this with some trepidation because talking about alcohol can be tricky when we know that alcoholism is a disease that harms people. However, I have found myself open to the possibility that not everyone has the disease. Some people find themselves in a situation of over consumption through habit formation, social pressure and other factors. For those impacted by alcoholism these views may be hard to consider. For me, I can only speak from personal experience.
At this time last year, I was drinking too much. I was aware that it was too much, but I had a horrible job and I was able to easily justify my consumption. Then I quit the job, and my drinking stayed the same. With no reason to support the intake, I decided to do Dry January – a month of not drinking to start the New Year. The first three days were so much worse than I could have imagined. It was not that it was so hard to not drink - I quit smoking a few years ago and can now power through a few days of anything – it was that not drinking was very hard on my body. The withdrawals were terrible, surprising and a little scary - you read on the internet that sudden withdrawal can actually cause death. Luckily, I did not die.
As January progressed, I kept a small notebook journal of my experience. By the end of the month, I realized that I have never formed my own opinion on alcohol consumption. I grew up in an environment with an abstinence mindset and I married into an environment that practices radical acceptance. These two extremes revealed themselves in my pendulous behavior between excess and abstinence and I decided I could not restart drinking until I had a better understanding of why I was at risk for over consumption.
In order to address this situation, I adopted a measured approach. I wrote up lists of all the times, the feelings and the situations that had me reaching for a beverage and I started paying attention to how often my lifestyle behavior was “alcohol centric”. Once I prepared my lists, I carried them around until I felt sure that they were complete and reflective of the times that I really did want to drink. After all that study and time, it became apparent that either I had to learn to moderate my drinking or I had to quit altogether. The way I was living was not going to be an option going forward. Since I was not ready to quit altogether, I decided to try moderation.
I came up with a decision flowchart of when it is okay to have an alcoholic drink. This chart is comprised of a series of yes and no questions designed to help me avoid some of the more mindless consumption activities that I had identified. I worded the questions so that every time I said yes, I hit a dead end. The result is that I have to say no seven or eight times before the path leads me to say yes to a drink.
All of that may sound like too much obsessing over alcohol, especially for those who are pro-abstinence. It may also be moot as I may have to quit anyway, but I do have some reasons for hope. One, I observed that our society really does push us not so subtly to over consume alcohol. When I was not paying attention, I was susceptible to that pressure in a way that I think I am better equipped to now navigate. Two, I did not do this by myself. I used guidelines from an online group that provides advice and support for those trying moderation. Three, drinking for me is different from smoking. Yes, I can drink too much, but I never in a million years would try to moderate smoking. I know that I cannot have even one cigarette. I learned that from twenty-two years of trying to quit. It is not how I interact with nicotine and this feels different.
Around mid-March, I completed my process and felt ready to put it all into action. I tweaked a few things over the first few weeks and for the most part, it is working. I feel like I am building positive character muscle as I learn to moderate how I consume alcohol. This mindfulness is also paying dividends in other areas including food and social media consumption. I do not know what the future holds, but after seven months, I can report that at first, I was thinking about it all the time and now, it just seems like less of a thing. I no longer drink too much. I practice alcohol moderation.
At this time last year, I was drinking too much. I was aware that it was too much, but I had a horrible job and I was able to easily justify my consumption. Then I quit the job, and my drinking stayed the same. With no reason to support the intake, I decided to do Dry January – a month of not drinking to start the New Year. The first three days were so much worse than I could have imagined. It was not that it was so hard to not drink - I quit smoking a few years ago and can now power through a few days of anything – it was that not drinking was very hard on my body. The withdrawals were terrible, surprising and a little scary - you read on the internet that sudden withdrawal can actually cause death. Luckily, I did not die.
As January progressed, I kept a small notebook journal of my experience. By the end of the month, I realized that I have never formed my own opinion on alcohol consumption. I grew up in an environment with an abstinence mindset and I married into an environment that practices radical acceptance. These two extremes revealed themselves in my pendulous behavior between excess and abstinence and I decided I could not restart drinking until I had a better understanding of why I was at risk for over consumption.
In order to address this situation, I adopted a measured approach. I wrote up lists of all the times, the feelings and the situations that had me reaching for a beverage and I started paying attention to how often my lifestyle behavior was “alcohol centric”. Once I prepared my lists, I carried them around until I felt sure that they were complete and reflective of the times that I really did want to drink. After all that study and time, it became apparent that either I had to learn to moderate my drinking or I had to quit altogether. The way I was living was not going to be an option going forward. Since I was not ready to quit altogether, I decided to try moderation.
I came up with a decision flowchart of when it is okay to have an alcoholic drink. This chart is comprised of a series of yes and no questions designed to help me avoid some of the more mindless consumption activities that I had identified. I worded the questions so that every time I said yes, I hit a dead end. The result is that I have to say no seven or eight times before the path leads me to say yes to a drink.
All of that may sound like too much obsessing over alcohol, especially for those who are pro-abstinence. It may also be moot as I may have to quit anyway, but I do have some reasons for hope. One, I observed that our society really does push us not so subtly to over consume alcohol. When I was not paying attention, I was susceptible to that pressure in a way that I think I am better equipped to now navigate. Two, I did not do this by myself. I used guidelines from an online group that provides advice and support for those trying moderation. Three, drinking for me is different from smoking. Yes, I can drink too much, but I never in a million years would try to moderate smoking. I know that I cannot have even one cigarette. I learned that from twenty-two years of trying to quit. It is not how I interact with nicotine and this feels different.
Around mid-March, I completed my process and felt ready to put it all into action. I tweaked a few things over the first few weeks and for the most part, it is working. I feel like I am building positive character muscle as I learn to moderate how I consume alcohol. This mindfulness is also paying dividends in other areas including food and social media consumption. I do not know what the future holds, but after seven months, I can report that at first, I was thinking about it all the time and now, it just seems like less of a thing. I no longer drink too much. I practice alcohol moderation.
Friday, October 11, 2019
A Testimony
A family member shared the news of her religious transition this week and I felt a deep sense of sadness. My reaction is unexpected given that I have traveled the same path she is taking. It should not bring up sadness to see her on that path. Nevertheless, it does. Every time another family member breaks with the dominant culture, my first response is “how sad”. Others think I am crazy as their response is to cheer another “sheep” escaping the “cult”. I then have to do a conscience check to see why I am feeling sad – am I worried that my much earlier defection is a contributing factor to this latest change? Am I truly concerned about the family member or is it more about preserving harmony for others who are negatively impacted? I cannot be sure that I know how to be fully honest in answering these questions, but I do try to come from a place of humility.
In many ways, staying within the warm embrace of your family culture is a happier place. So many people think that giving into the call for a different understanding is the easy way out, but for those who have traveled that path; for those who truly care about others; it is not that simple. In addition to dealing with the hurt feelings of those you love, you have to address your personal belief structure. You can end up spending so much time on the ending that you may forget to plan for what comes next. Kids need a moral foundation. Where does that come from when parents do not unite in faith? All humans need a strong foundation to draw on. Going forward, how will you find hope?
If I were to bring up these thoughts as arguments for or against a belief structure, that would be unwelcome and uncharitable. That is not my intent. I mention these thoughts because they are considerations that I had to resolve in my own path. I found that when one spends their life in a very structured framework, it is that much harder to figure out how to navigate and successfully resolve life’s everyday situations. We simply are not equipped to go it on our own. It is like reverting to childhood, starting the whole learning process over and remaking oneself. Without all the family support that was available the first time.
I also keenly feel the two decades I lived without the knowledge of God’s true love. Because I was running so hard and so completely away from something, I forgot and ended up abandoning the one thing that is never changing. I wasted so many years and inflicted so much casual harm on myself and others. All because I thought cultural religion and true religion were the same thing. I recently made the case that my fumbling over these past few decades was the result of my susceptibility to external messages. Yes, the marketing machine is real and it is insidious, but I see now that I also have to accept responsibility. I allowed myself to forget about God. I allowed myself to believe that He was not there every single step of the way. I suppose I needed all those experiences to be more understanding of other people or maybe because I am so very stubborn, but I wish I had been a more efficient learner.
I am realizing it is not the change that saddens me. In fact, I deeply believe that the truth lies in a place that is not in evidence in the dominant culture. Therefore, the change is most certainly necessary. What makes me sad is the almost certain years of distraction that come from the change. It is all of the wasted time, the loss of spirituality and the lack of true joy. It is misplacing the reason to have hope in a world that challenges us every single day.
Because this change is so hard, many people end up embracing a militant atheism. As I grieve for that perspective, I remember that my son recently reminded me that all paths, even the atheistic one, are paths to God. As I contemplate that thought further, I pause to thank God that my son has found a profound belief despite my inconstancy in these matters all these years.
I have said this before, but it bears repeating - “[Love] is the goal; that is why we run: we run toward it, and once we reach it, in it we shall find rest.” (St. Augustine, Confessions)
In many ways, staying within the warm embrace of your family culture is a happier place. So many people think that giving into the call for a different understanding is the easy way out, but for those who have traveled that path; for those who truly care about others; it is not that simple. In addition to dealing with the hurt feelings of those you love, you have to address your personal belief structure. You can end up spending so much time on the ending that you may forget to plan for what comes next. Kids need a moral foundation. Where does that come from when parents do not unite in faith? All humans need a strong foundation to draw on. Going forward, how will you find hope?
If I were to bring up these thoughts as arguments for or against a belief structure, that would be unwelcome and uncharitable. That is not my intent. I mention these thoughts because they are considerations that I had to resolve in my own path. I found that when one spends their life in a very structured framework, it is that much harder to figure out how to navigate and successfully resolve life’s everyday situations. We simply are not equipped to go it on our own. It is like reverting to childhood, starting the whole learning process over and remaking oneself. Without all the family support that was available the first time.
I also keenly feel the two decades I lived without the knowledge of God’s true love. Because I was running so hard and so completely away from something, I forgot and ended up abandoning the one thing that is never changing. I wasted so many years and inflicted so much casual harm on myself and others. All because I thought cultural religion and true religion were the same thing. I recently made the case that my fumbling over these past few decades was the result of my susceptibility to external messages. Yes, the marketing machine is real and it is insidious, but I see now that I also have to accept responsibility. I allowed myself to forget about God. I allowed myself to believe that He was not there every single step of the way. I suppose I needed all those experiences to be more understanding of other people or maybe because I am so very stubborn, but I wish I had been a more efficient learner.
I am realizing it is not the change that saddens me. In fact, I deeply believe that the truth lies in a place that is not in evidence in the dominant culture. Therefore, the change is most certainly necessary. What makes me sad is the almost certain years of distraction that come from the change. It is all of the wasted time, the loss of spirituality and the lack of true joy. It is misplacing the reason to have hope in a world that challenges us every single day.
Because this change is so hard, many people end up embracing a militant atheism. As I grieve for that perspective, I remember that my son recently reminded me that all paths, even the atheistic one, are paths to God. As I contemplate that thought further, I pause to thank God that my son has found a profound belief despite my inconstancy in these matters all these years.
I have said this before, but it bears repeating - “[Love] is the goal; that is why we run: we run toward it, and once we reach it, in it we shall find rest.” (St. Augustine, Confessions)
Sunday, October 6, 2019
Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide?
When I was a freshman in college, Ayn Rand started making the rounds at the dorms. In the 1900’s, before everything was digital, we had to pass around actual books and I recall reading both Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. Since dystopian fiction is once again having its day in the sun, I have been remembering this experience of three decades past: eighteen-year-old women, away from home for the first time, tearing through thousand page sagas.
For those not familiar with these books, I highly recommend one or both as one of the books that everyone should read. They are compelling and will almost certainly have an impact on anyone who puts in the time. I remember walking around in a haze for at least two weeks after finishing both books. I could see the whole world more clearly. Things that were once beyond my understanding now made sense. As that first fortnight ended, I suddenly came to my senses and arrived at an even clearer understanding of these magnificent works of fiction. I got (and this might be a spoiler) that everything those books proposed is completely wrong.
I have never been so completely convinced and then abruptly so certain of the opposite belief in such a short timeframe. I do not think it is merely a different viewpoint or perspective worthy of discussion. No, it is just flat out wrong and yes, I still feel that strongly. While I can agree that Ayn Rand’s work is revolutionary, I am never going to agree with Objectivism. I just know that about myself.
More disturbing than anything Rand can pen is the experience of a complete conversion to an idea that is so clearly against my belief structure. How can I trust my thoughts on any matter if I am so easy to sway? I wish I could report that my judgement has improved, but as I age, I am beginning to feel even less confident in my long held beliefs and choices. I have been experiencing an awakening as I realize how much I have allowed marketing, rhetoric and just plain deception to rule my choices.
Perhaps this is a normal part of developmental psychology and that is why marketing campaigns traditionally target consumers up to 39 years old. Perhaps, once you hit 40, your BS meter starts to really hum and you begin to realize that you maybe never really knew what you thought. If this were true, just think how utterly horrifying it would be. Oh, the things I did in my 20’s and 30’s that I cannot take back. I am not only thinking of the damage that my actions had on others, but also the damage to myself.
I am not talking about regrets. We all know we have to travel a broken road in this life. We know that we have free will and we will sometimes get it wrong. I am talking about manipulation. I am talking about the choices that I did not realize I was making. I am talking about the way we view certain behaviors as inevitable to the human experience and then we go out and indulge in those behaviors. Our society feels as if it is crowd sourced.
That I have been susceptible to this type of blind following comes as a surprise to me. I am not that person. I have advanced schooling, a higher paying job and a proven record of “sound judgement” and success. To find out that my conscious does not appear well formed is devastating. I have always tried to follow what I believe to be right. I have tried to be brave in my choices and I have made trade-offs in the pursuit of ethical balance. I see now that even when trying to be conscientious, I did not do enough to protect myself from grievous errors of judgement.
At this time, I do not know where this thought process is leading. There is only an awakening and the sure knowledge that I must do more work.
“A human being must always obey the certain judgment of his conscience. If he were deliberately to act against it, he would condemn himself. Yet it can happen that moral conscience remains in ignorance and makes erroneous judgments about acts to be performed or already committed.” CCC 1790
For those not familiar with these books, I highly recommend one or both as one of the books that everyone should read. They are compelling and will almost certainly have an impact on anyone who puts in the time. I remember walking around in a haze for at least two weeks after finishing both books. I could see the whole world more clearly. Things that were once beyond my understanding now made sense. As that first fortnight ended, I suddenly came to my senses and arrived at an even clearer understanding of these magnificent works of fiction. I got (and this might be a spoiler) that everything those books proposed is completely wrong.
I have never been so completely convinced and then abruptly so certain of the opposite belief in such a short timeframe. I do not think it is merely a different viewpoint or perspective worthy of discussion. No, it is just flat out wrong and yes, I still feel that strongly. While I can agree that Ayn Rand’s work is revolutionary, I am never going to agree with Objectivism. I just know that about myself.
More disturbing than anything Rand can pen is the experience of a complete conversion to an idea that is so clearly against my belief structure. How can I trust my thoughts on any matter if I am so easy to sway? I wish I could report that my judgement has improved, but as I age, I am beginning to feel even less confident in my long held beliefs and choices. I have been experiencing an awakening as I realize how much I have allowed marketing, rhetoric and just plain deception to rule my choices.
Perhaps this is a normal part of developmental psychology and that is why marketing campaigns traditionally target consumers up to 39 years old. Perhaps, once you hit 40, your BS meter starts to really hum and you begin to realize that you maybe never really knew what you thought. If this were true, just think how utterly horrifying it would be. Oh, the things I did in my 20’s and 30’s that I cannot take back. I am not only thinking of the damage that my actions had on others, but also the damage to myself.
I am not talking about regrets. We all know we have to travel a broken road in this life. We know that we have free will and we will sometimes get it wrong. I am talking about manipulation. I am talking about the choices that I did not realize I was making. I am talking about the way we view certain behaviors as inevitable to the human experience and then we go out and indulge in those behaviors. Our society feels as if it is crowd sourced.
That I have been susceptible to this type of blind following comes as a surprise to me. I am not that person. I have advanced schooling, a higher paying job and a proven record of “sound judgement” and success. To find out that my conscious does not appear well formed is devastating. I have always tried to follow what I believe to be right. I have tried to be brave in my choices and I have made trade-offs in the pursuit of ethical balance. I see now that even when trying to be conscientious, I did not do enough to protect myself from grievous errors of judgement.
At this time, I do not know where this thought process is leading. There is only an awakening and the sure knowledge that I must do more work.
“A human being must always obey the certain judgment of his conscience. If he were deliberately to act against it, he would condemn himself. Yet it can happen that moral conscience remains in ignorance and makes erroneous judgments about acts to be performed or already committed.” CCC 1790
Monday, September 30, 2019
Sorry, Not Sorry
A friend posted a meme recently about being sorry. It said, “Say sorry when: You crossed a boundary; you become aware that someone felt hurt by an action of yours; you were mistaken about something.” Then it listed items for which one should never apologize**. The point of the meme is that we often say sorry when there is no reason to be sorry. I should take a moment to note that many people have a hard time ever saying they are sorry. This is not about those people. This is about the people who tend to think they use the term “sorry” too often and are always on the lookout for apologies that are not necessary.
In cases where the apologies come a little too often, I have been thinking that perhaps the use of “I’m sorry” goes beyond being merely unnecessary; it may also be more damaging than we can imagine. When one apologizes to smooth a rough situation or to soften an otherwise demanding request, it is easy to see that they are actually not sorry. Saying something you do not mean is a lie. Now I, as do most of us, pride myself on my honesty and would never set out intentionally to lie, but saying I am sorry when I am not, and when I have no intention to change, that is definitely walking a line.
When I try to talk with others about this, there is often a strong reaction. “Isn’t that a bit harsh?” “Sorry is just a way of being polite, no one expects change.” These reactions originate in how we think about lying. I think most people agree that there is a time and a place for the proverbial white lie. That time and place is usually when trying to protect the innocent or to prevent unnecessary suffering. When you combine the politeness of a well-timed apology with the good intentions of the white lie, how could anyone find harm?
Well, things have a way of coming out. Mark Twain said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” Sometimes our words twist back around to us and when the truth comes out, there is usually a corresponding loss of trust and some work necessary to heal the relationship. This is the actual time where one might say, “I’m sorry”. I can only hope that they actually do feel sorry and not sorry that the truth came out, but sorry about the actions that led to the prevarication.
If you spend a lot of time thinking about lying, no matter how good the intentions at the start, eventually you have to reach a place of truth. Even the little white lie can start to weigh a person and a relationship down. The start of a white lie can be that false apology that slips off the tongue too easily. In order to maintain respect, we need to be careful with our words. It’s the little things that begin the decay of integrity and the loss of trust.
**Taking up space, consuming resources, existing, expressing yourself, asking for something, asserting yourself, putting yourself first, being different, disappointing others, choosing what works for you, for saying no, for saying yes, for being happy, for being sad, for being upset, for having needs, for having feelings, for having wants, for being.
In cases where the apologies come a little too often, I have been thinking that perhaps the use of “I’m sorry” goes beyond being merely unnecessary; it may also be more damaging than we can imagine. When one apologizes to smooth a rough situation or to soften an otherwise demanding request, it is easy to see that they are actually not sorry. Saying something you do not mean is a lie. Now I, as do most of us, pride myself on my honesty and would never set out intentionally to lie, but saying I am sorry when I am not, and when I have no intention to change, that is definitely walking a line.
When I try to talk with others about this, there is often a strong reaction. “Isn’t that a bit harsh?” “Sorry is just a way of being polite, no one expects change.” These reactions originate in how we think about lying. I think most people agree that there is a time and a place for the proverbial white lie. That time and place is usually when trying to protect the innocent or to prevent unnecessary suffering. When you combine the politeness of a well-timed apology with the good intentions of the white lie, how could anyone find harm?
Well, things have a way of coming out. Mark Twain said, “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” Sometimes our words twist back around to us and when the truth comes out, there is usually a corresponding loss of trust and some work necessary to heal the relationship. This is the actual time where one might say, “I’m sorry”. I can only hope that they actually do feel sorry and not sorry that the truth came out, but sorry about the actions that led to the prevarication.
If you spend a lot of time thinking about lying, no matter how good the intentions at the start, eventually you have to reach a place of truth. Even the little white lie can start to weigh a person and a relationship down. The start of a white lie can be that false apology that slips off the tongue too easily. In order to maintain respect, we need to be careful with our words. It’s the little things that begin the decay of integrity and the loss of trust.
**Taking up space, consuming resources, existing, expressing yourself, asking for something, asserting yourself, putting yourself first, being different, disappointing others, choosing what works for you, for saying no, for saying yes, for being happy, for being sad, for being upset, for having needs, for having feelings, for having wants, for being.
Friday, September 20, 2019
I say, Hard Pass
My son (who is currently a freshman in high school) is often the muse for my wandering thoughts. Just this week, when I asked about something I wanted him to take on, he simply said, "Hard Pass". I laughed and asked what that meant. "Hard pass is stronger than no," he explained. "It really means no."
Of course, I immediately objected by saying no means no - it is an absolute - there can not be something stronger than no. He tried to explain that no is not necessarily the end of the discussion, it is merely a negotiating stance, but I quickly cut that off and reminded him that this is how people end up in prison for rape. After our conversation, I could not forget his misunderstanding. Why would this very important topic even be confusing? We have definitely covered consent.
In business, we are taught never to accept no as an answer. Success in sales requires winning over a reluctant prospect. Likewise, persistence is valuable when going after that job you want. It isn't only business - try putting together a committee for that charity gala or getting some refreshment help at the club sporting event without a little wheedling or possibly coercion. These are just a few examples where a no is actually not a no. It means you are not going to get what you need which is not an acceptable outcome.
On the consent side, and it is hard for me to admit this, there can be times when no is actually a pretext. It can be part of flirting, misdirection, passion rising and legitimate mind changing. For worse not better, in all of these cases, no becomes the ultimate mixed message. Things get confusing and consensual events change character in the light of day and possible regret. Given that situation, perhaps we do need a word that is stronger than no.
To that I say, Hard Pass. It is better to teach people to set boundaries they mean and to honor boundaries that have been set than to keep moving the goal posts. Just like the jokes of last century that we never should have told, we can not afford to keep pushing past objections. Not in the way we do business, not in our personal lives, not ever. We can not engage in a dance around this word. No is just going to have to mean no.
Of course, I immediately objected by saying no means no - it is an absolute - there can not be something stronger than no. He tried to explain that no is not necessarily the end of the discussion, it is merely a negotiating stance, but I quickly cut that off and reminded him that this is how people end up in prison for rape. After our conversation, I could not forget his misunderstanding. Why would this very important topic even be confusing? We have definitely covered consent.
In business, we are taught never to accept no as an answer. Success in sales requires winning over a reluctant prospect. Likewise, persistence is valuable when going after that job you want. It isn't only business - try putting together a committee for that charity gala or getting some refreshment help at the club sporting event without a little wheedling or possibly coercion. These are just a few examples where a no is actually not a no. It means you are not going to get what you need which is not an acceptable outcome.
On the consent side, and it is hard for me to admit this, there can be times when no is actually a pretext. It can be part of flirting, misdirection, passion rising and legitimate mind changing. For worse not better, in all of these cases, no becomes the ultimate mixed message. Things get confusing and consensual events change character in the light of day and possible regret. Given that situation, perhaps we do need a word that is stronger than no.
To that I say, Hard Pass. It is better to teach people to set boundaries they mean and to honor boundaries that have been set than to keep moving the goal posts. Just like the jokes of last century that we never should have told, we can not afford to keep pushing past objections. Not in the way we do business, not in our personal lives, not ever. We can not engage in a dance around this word. No is just going to have to mean no.
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