Something

It is so easy to want to retaliate. To reciprocate with like for like. To strike back in order to defend ourselves in the moment. To give tit for tat. It isn’t a good tactic, but it sure feels like one at the time.

This morning over coffee, we had one of those moments. One of us brought something up. The other shared the frustration that “something” surfaced for them. Which then led the first person to bring up a different “something” that had caused them frustration in the past. Most recently the day before, although they hadn’t mentioned it at the time. Which meant that because it wasn’t expressed as a separate “something” then, it became tangled up with the other “something” now. All of a sudden the “somethings” and the frustrations around them were coiled up together, making it more difficult to actually get the to “somethings” that were asking to be addressed.

Thinking back to this morning it occurs to me that like every messy interaction that comes with every close relationship, there is wisdom to be found in the midst of the tangle. For instance, if I feel something, say something. Maybe not right at that moment, as sometimes a deep breath, a walk down the road, or a good night of sleep can clarify, simplify, and soften the message so that it can be expressed with respect and received with grace. It is such good, and yes, hard, practice to "say what isn’t being said”, because that’s usually where the truth hides out.

As the day and our conversation continued, we got back on track to address our respective “somethings”. And that’s nothing if not something to feel good about, especially considering that neither of us got rattled.

Righting A Wrong

What’s wrong is rarely the right question.

It implies that there is something that needs to be fixed, corrected, or cleaned up. Like maybe us.

But real life isn’t tidy. It’s broken, imperfect, and messy, which means that sometimes we are all of those things too.

It takes such courage to show up in the midst of our own emotional messiness. In those moments the right person asking the right questions at the right time can work wonders. The right questions can shine light into our darkness, open doors for conversations waiting to be had, uncover possibilities, kindle hope, and pave the way for next steps.

The right questions start with wanting to know what’s true. Not what’s wrong.

Better Off Said

I don’t even remember what the conversation was about. But at some point this past week, as we sat talking over our morning coffee, something that had previously been unsaid, was shared. Those few words connected dots that hadn’t made sense. Colored in the outline that my imagination had been attempting to fill, and as is usually the case, the real picture was much less scary than the imagined one.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t monumental, but it mattered. It wasn’t a big reveal, but a small revelation. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was the real deal.

How often, I wonder, do we keep things to ourselves that would be better off shared? Hold back for fear of what will happen if we actually disclose what we’ve kept to ourselves?

Maybe that’s some of the good, hard work of relationships. Especially our closest ones. To disclose what has previously been held back. To say what’s been waiting to be said. To share our thought bubbles, as scary as that might sound on a good day, much less a rough one.

Yes, some things are better left unsaid. But what about the ones that aren’t?

The Corner From Hell

Why does every kitchen have a corner that’s too crowded? The one where attempting to put something into the microwave means reaching over the head of the person unloading the dishwasher. In our kitchen, it’s the corner where pouring a cup of coffee, stirring something on the stove, and reaching for dishes to set the table all converge. Working there by myself is fine. Given my claustrophobia, throw one more body into the mix and it’s the corner from hell.

Defined as an intense fear of confined or enclosed spaces, claustrophobia impacts about 12.5% of us. It is a phobia because the fear is greater than the perceived threat. For me, the mere thought of spelunking, traffic coming to a stop in a long tunnel, the window seat in the last row of the plane on an international flight, or taking the Chunnel under the English Channel makes me start to hyperven… Can we just talk about something else??

While not included with the 5 love languages, one of mine is space and autonomy. I’ve worked hard to develop my sense of self and independence, and I feel loved and seen when others recognize that. Becoming strong and capable in my own right has come at a price, and when that gets threatened it elicits a powerful, visceral response I’ve come to recognize as emotional claustrophobia. It gets triggered when someone, (unfortunately usually someone I love) steps in to help me when I haven’t asked for it. It feels like they are hovering over me and attempting to rescue me from something I’m totally capable of handling myself. Left to its own devices, my lizard brain takes over and I find myself in full fight or flight mode. It’s not pretty.

When triggered, most of us don’t respond from our best selves, and I am anything but an exception to that rule. Perceiving a threat where there is none, I’ve hurt the feelings of the people I love with my fear-based reactions and harsh words. To learn to respond from a better place rather than react from an unhealthy one, I’m working to identify the feeling when it occurs. Instead of acting on that inner claustrophobia to protect myself, I describe what I’m experiencing to the person I deem to be doing the hovering and helping. It’s my intent to share that with them in a calm and respectful way, a goal that is still somewhat aspirational. But I’m making progress.

This practice is a way of living from the inside out. A way of bringing to the light what we are tempted to keep in the dark. Disclosing when we are feeling triggered rather than keeping it to ourselves, those long held and often irrational fears begin to loosen their grip. Learning to communicate about our triggers in real time can be a game changer in a relationship. It is a way of holding ourselves accountable to show up differently, and an invitation for others to show up differently too.

By understanding what fuels the unhealthy patterns that show up in our relationships, we have the possibility of creating new healthy patterns together. But only if we talk about them.

Maybe just don’t try talking about it in the corner from hell.

Lost In Translation

This is what he said:

“Let’s just use the rest of this up.”

This is what I heard:

“You probably won’t think of this, so I’d better remind you. This food needs to be eaten up, and we don’t want it to go to waste.”

A little context might be helpful.

My husband and I are starting the Whole30 tomorrow, and trying to finish up all of the non-compliant food before then. Tom was referring to some of said food, and simply letting me know that he was helping us do that.

His comment wasn’t meant to criticize, correct, or challenge me. That, however, is how I heard it, and as a result, my response was less than gracious.

Thankfully curiosity came on the heels of my snarky comment. Following that thread of inquiry led me to the discovery of my very own inner translator. One that takes a message and instantly converts it into my mother tongue, confirming an old story that has been with me for as long as I can remember. In this case, the story that I have to protect myself from strong male voices that only want to keep me in my place, question my abilities, and tell me how things are.

Programs like Google Translate work to predict the likelihood of a sequence of words, and quickly convert them from one language to another.

Our inner translators work in much the same way.

In other words, we hear what we are listening for rather that what is actually being said.

Too Good Not To Share

re-spon-si-ble

having an obligation to do something, or care for someone, as part of one's job or role

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Especially during COVID, staying connected matters more than ever. Thanks to technology we can still meet, gather, collaborate, celebrate, learn, remember, worship, and share a meal or bottle of wine together. We can work with a therapist, doctor, coach, personal trainer, or spiritual director, all from the comfort of our home office, closet, car, or tree fort.

As good as all that connecting is, sometimes it’s just too much.

Our devices ring and ding and vibrate, alerting us that someone somewhere is reaching our way, and we, or at least I, feel responsible to answer right there and then. It’s as if not picking up the phone, responding to the text, joining the video call, or answering the email immediately communicates that I don’t care. That that person isn’t a priority, and as someone who values connection and relationships above all else, I never want to convey that. Ever. And yet I have this fear that I do.

This was the quandary I brought to a monthly video conversation with my spiritual director. One of his many gifts is his practice of parsing words. He will take a word apart, maybe switch a letter of two, all in the service of looking at it in a new and more helpful way. In this case, rather than feel responsible to answer the phone or respond to the text, decide if, in that moment, I am response-able to do so.

Do I have the emotional capacity, at the time, to respond with the best of myself? Is my tank, at the time, empty, full, or somewhere in between? Do I have what it takes, at the time, to be fully present? In that moment, am I responsible or response-able to answer? It isn’t about not responding. It’s about responding well.

Some things are simply too good not to share.

(Once again, a grateful shout out to Dane Anthony.)

Photo by Wendy Wei from Pexels

Mox-Nix

When faced with two options, my sister often replies, “Mox Nix”. It comes from the German es macht nichts, and originated with American soldiers stationed in Germany after WWII. The gist of the term is that it really doesn’t matter, or it isn’t that important.

I’ve always loved the term, and how the words feel rolling off my tongue.

If 2020 has taught us anything, it is that there are things that matter, and things that don’t. We’ve also learned, or perhaps, remembered, how little is under our control, and we don’t like that. We’d rather have our hands firmly at the helm thank you, and when we can’t, we get scared, grab for control wherever we can get it, and pick battles that don’t matter with the people that do. .

We want what we want, and we want it now. But there is little joy in such victories, and while we may get what we want, rarely do we get what we need.

Mox Nix can help with that.

Emotional Weight Lifting

Whether in actual physical proximity to people I care deeply about, or through a virtual connection that is the lifeline of relationship during this time of shared crisis, I feel untethered from my ability to connect with people. Some of the most basic navigational tools I’ve come to rely on are not available at present. No longer able to share a hug, I’m left to rely on my words. Unable to reach out and touch a shoulder, the tone of my voice must convey nuance. Facial expressions are stand-ins for the holding tight of hands, eye contact takes the place of a kiss, and tears that flow more freely than usual have to suffice for the comfort of a long embrace.

Strangely, the ways in which we have become accustomed to connecting to one another now put us all at risk. If we truly want to care for one another, we are being challenged to find new ways of being in relationship with one another. It often feels like trying to complete an intricate task with one hand tied behind my back, or navigate through the house blindfolded. I know what I’m trying to accomplish and where I want to go, but with only half of my relationship wheelhouse available.

It makes me wonder.

How often do we substitute easy contact for real communication and familiar gestures for genuine connection? Perhaps this time of separation, isolation, and physical distancing is a call to forge even deeper connections, hold each other close even when we are alone, and practice going it together even as we stand apart.

Learning to be in relationship without all of our usual resources is really hard work. It is tiring to the point of exhaustion. In many ways it’s like weight-lifting. The only way to get stronger is through repetition, increased effort, pushing past previous limits, and giving ourselves time to rest and recover.

And then going at it again.

Photo: Leon Martinez on pexels.com

A Better Drift

None of us sees the world in exactly the same way, and the needs that we each have are as different as we are from one another. Understanding this, and knowing what to do about it, is the good, and hard work of human relationships. Especially with those we care about the most.

It seems to be in our nature to give love and respect to others in the ways in which we want to receive them ourselves. To express our needs and wants in the language and timing that works for us. And here’s the clincher—we expect others to know what we want and need from them without having to tell them. None of these are good ideas. I know this because I’ve tried them for years with the same results. Hurt feelings, disappointment, resentment, loneliness, frustration, anger…I could keep going but you probably catch my drift. Maybe you share some version of the same drift too.

If we don’t want the same old same old., we have to try something new.

Rather than expecting others to know what we need and how to love us well, let’s tell them Specifically.

Rather than guessing what others need and how to love them well, let’s ask them. Specifically.

With practice we just might find ourselves catching a new and better drift.

Dealing With It

After years of leading workshops and retreats and working with coaching clients, there is almost always this moment when the energy changes. Something I’ve said strikes a nerve, gets to the point, or sheds a light on something true. People perk up and listen, pick up a pen, and begin writing. Yesterday, in a workshop on leading teams, that moment came when I talked about how un-dealt with issues can undermine team strength, erode trust, and cause communication breakdowns. In the room heads nodded as they brought to mind what those unresolved issues and avoided conversations might be in their own teams.

We didn’t talk about the specifics, because that is their work to do in the days ahead, and because I usually teach what I need to hear too, I work to be right there with them. To apply what I am saying to them to my own life. It is safe to say that most of us don’t wake up and hope to have a difficult conversation, face avoided issues, and ask hard questions. It is equally safe to say that the longer we put such things off, the harder they are to face.

Whether talking about an organization, work team, friendship, marriage, NFL team, or a family, developing the skills to address issues as they arise, work through things rather than skirt around them, and keep our “accounts” current, is hard work, but oh such good work. It pays off every time we have the courage to do it, and it costs us every time we don’t.