Category Archives: communication

Trust Your Worth

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NaBloPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

I wonder how this post will land on women, versus men?

Another insight that emerged from my call with friends yesterday involved how we define and acknowledge our worth.  Reflecting on the evolution of our lives, my friends and I explored identity, societal metrics of success, and what really matters to us. 

One of us has been looking through old family photographs lately, and realizing that raising her family, more than her career, per se, is what affirms that ‘my life has mattered.’  I was just reflecting the other day on how much I seek the approval of certain people at work—how constantly their opinions weigh on my mind—leaders whom I respect, and whose respect I want in return.  Why do I care so much what people think of me?  The third of us has concluded that the most important meaning we can make in life revolves around deep connection with people.

All three of us are strong, independent, thoughtful, moral women who make positive contributions to society, no question.  We all stand firmly in unabashed acknowledgment of our personal worth and existential worthiness.  We know in our thinking brains that we are enough.  And yet, we all still crave and seek the approval of others, of society.  Whether it’s a title, income, or some other metric of status or accomplishment, we cannot help but attend to some implicit code of social standing.  Ironically, too, isn’t it a societal expectation that we also ‘shouldn’t need outside affirmation’ for our self-image or –esteem?  Fascinating. 

We observe men and wonder if they feel at all similarly?  Do men ever question or care what others think or where they stand in the group?  They must, right?  We all do.  We three agreed that while we all have a human need for acceptance and belonging, men and women are socialized very differently in how to attain it.  In short, men are expected to compete; women to collaborate.  In both cases, though, I think we all shine brightest and are rewarded when we bring our whole, integrated selves to participate.  The feedback we get from both competing and collaborating serves as our tribal belonging reality check, which is crucial information for relationships and survival.  And, we all must do our own inner work.  How can I bring my best self unless I know who that is?  And how can I know unless I practice some kind of self-awareness?

So as usual, it’s a matter of Both, And: I live by my own strong personal standards of conduct and contribution.  I judge for myself whether I do or am enough.  And, I benefit from the feedback of those whose judgments and relationships matter to me.  I check my work against meaningful external yardsticks and balance those metrics with my own ideals.  I believe we can train to hold this existential and relational tension with humble confidence and self-trust.  Connection (and collaboration) with amazing friends like mine are an essential part of a successful life training regimen.

Be Respectful

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NaBloPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

I can just see every writing teacher cringing to see ‘Be’ as my verb in this action mantra.

I just cannot think of a better way to express this fundamental admonition.  It’s like the cheer we all know from high school—instead of ‘aggressive’, it’s, “R.  E-S.  P-E-C-T-F-U-L.  Be. Respectful.  B-E Respectful!”  Ha, the two words even have the same number of letters so the rhythm transposes perfectly.  Hmmm, maybe we can start a movement from the sidelines here.

In the grocery check-out line.  At the Target returns desk.  On the phone with customer service.  Driving.  With your in-laws, your coworkers, your spouse, your children, your direct reports, the building custodian. With your kids’ teachers.  With elected officials.  With people who disagree with you on issues that matter deeply to you.  With the person aggressively disrespecting you to your face.  With the authoritarian police officer using excessive force, the boss acting out of sheer prejudice, even malice.  With the militant supremacist throwing rocks and spitting at you.

Why be respectful? Because it’s the best way to show that you see the other person as also human, equal in worth to yourself, even if they don’t feel or think the same about you. They may say they do—don’t we all say it? It’s not socially acceptable to say out loud that we think someone is beneath us—at least not in public, or ‘polite society.’ Is there actually even such a thing anymore, polite society? Every year it seems easier for people to demean one another out loud, viciously, violently, in public, with no politeness whatsoever, and no consequences. I think every one of us needs to query ourselves truthfully about how much we really value and believe in equality, and get honest about where we don’t: Own it. Stand up and accountable for it.

But if we are sincerely convinced that we see all humans as equally valuable, that we harbor no occult supremacist ideals, then the least we can do is be respectful toward one another in all of our interactions. It may even serve as a prophylactic, keeping us from speaking or acting on our latent negative biases, if we simply commit to practicing respectfulness.

Disrespect is the first arrogant step down the slippery slope of dehumanization, and that descent leads straight to relationship hell.

Listen to Connect

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NaBloPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

When you see the doctor, how long can you speak before being interrupted?  How long can someone speak to you before you interrupt them?  What kind of listening is happening in these situations? What do these disruptions do to the flow of conversation?  Of relationship?

This post took off as a call to Always Seek Stories, then Find All of the Stories, then Listen More Deeply, and then Listen to Understand, before finally landing on connection—it’s where I always land, isn’t it?  What am I after here, what is the bottom line?  I really just want us all to truly hear one another.  Right now we declare, opine, profess, criticize, and judge far too often.  We filter our inputs through bias, anger, tribalism, and passion; we meet others with guard up and weapons drawn, ready for a fight.  What we need from each other is to sit down, shut up, and listen.

It can be exhausting, though.  Because to really listen deeply and hear, often what is not being said, is a master practice in slow, patient presence—in self-control and regulation.  It is a quintessential requirement of true empathy and friendship, to put our own concerns and inner chatter aside and open fully to another person’s experiences and expressions—especially the subtle ones.  Is this even in our nature?  Perhaps it was when life was much simpler—when all we had was each other and nature, and survival was only and ever about just being, whether alone or together, doing or resting—when tribal life had fewer layers and levels, and our attention had only a fraction of the distractions we have today?  Back then, individual survival depended fundamentally on survival of the group, so interpersonal cohesion and cooperation was literally a matter of life and death.  One could argue the same is still true; we are still humans, an innately social species.  But it seems, at least in the United States, we increasingly see our own individual survival as threatened by people around us (especially people whom we perceive as different in any way) rather than sustained.

Mom and son plan her move from the home he grew up in to assisted living.  He will drive in from another state for the big day.  She declares (demands?) that he should come a day earlier than they agreed, but does not say why.  He feels impatient and tells her no.  Wife asks husband to help her move a new rug to its final position on the floor—tonight, please.  He says no, it’s not flat enough yet, and it will take too much time.  What are the deeper requests and needs beneath each of these appeals and rebuffs?  My friend is the son; I am the wife.  We reflected together recently on what our loved ones may have felt that they did not say, what lenses we each wore in these conversations, and how they filtered (and/or distorted) our responses.  He may go earlier to help ease mom’s anxiety about a big life transition; Hubs and I moved the rug after I explained that I wanted our houseguest to feel more comfortable.

Listening to connect means more than attuning to other people.  It includes monitoring and studying our own inner ‘weather report’, as I read it described somewhere.  If I’m feeling cloudy with a chance of lightening, that may distort my perception of whatever enters my atmosphere, compared to when I’m sunny.  If I listen and hear myself first, I can calibrate my inputs as well as outputs.  I may decide to steer clear of storms I see brewing in others, until my own ether is less reactive. 

By tuning my own strings, I can play better harmonies more nimbly.  I feel confident in my ability to attune to others; I can drop wholeheartedly into the movement of melodious exchange, in resonance with other instruments in the orchestra.  When I relax into simultaneous presence to self and other, I narrow the distance between us.  We become one in collective, each individual contributing something unique, independent, and inextricable at the same time.

Thanks for following along this past week, friends!  Hope you enjoy reading these posts as much as I’m enjoying writing them!