Forging the Tools to Connect Me to You

connections

One has only to watch the evening news to feel a sense of pessimism regarding human beings and their ability to relate in ways that will contribute to mutual evolution. We are floundering in the dark when it comes to clear communication and the expression of value for ourselves, others, and the planet upon which we live. There is an old saying to treat others as you would have them treat you, but this is difficult to put into action. I don’t know about you, but my parents had another saying. It was, “Do as I say, not as I do.” This double standard means that we want others to treat us with courtesy—to be loving, honest, forthcoming, vulnerable, kind, and to uplift us—but when it comes to returning the favor, we’re at a loss. We’re at a loss because we don’t know how to do it. We just don’t have the right “tools” or the right “components” for healthy relating.

So, how do we get these components, these tools, we may be lacking? It’s easy to assume that if we weren’t born with them, it’s hopeless. We can’t acquire them. And then we must resign ourselves to failing at certain tasks or in certain partnerships because we don’t have the skills we need to succeed. In other words, we won’t be able to build anything that will work for very long, and we won’t be able to grow anything healthy that will feed us. Yet, if relationship building is something learned and not genetically encoded, how do we begin the process? How can we relate to others in ways that will be productive and beneficial?

Concept 1: Stop thinking so much about what other people should be doing for you or what they are doing to you.

We spend a significant portion of our days contemplating how bad we have it . . . how terrible our day has been . . . how we should have gotten something we didn’t . . . how we got screwed out of something to which we felt entitled, and so on. Of course, we realize that somewhere, someone else is always worse off than we are, but we don’t appear to let that realization alter our behavior. We’re so locked into thinking about our suffering that it barely registers that we have also been given amazing gifts. This goes beyond the rote saying that we have a roof over our heads and food to put in our mouths. I admit to taking these things for granted, but since society at large no longer lives in the days when our first priority, and what took up most of our energy, was tending crops so we could survive, most of us need something more than this in order to feel a sense of gratitude and accomplishment. We need another way to create community and to contribute our unique abilities for a positive exchange.

Concept 2: Imagine the possibility that the people you meet each day suffer much the same way you do.

Impossible, I know! If you have a hard time with this concept (because no one could have it as bad as you, what with all the things you’re dealing with—and also no one is as special as you, which makes your circumstance that much more tragic), it’s okay to start small. In fact, sometimes, the best place to start is close to home—close to your heart. Try putting yourself into the shoes of someone close to you. Imagine your worst day . . . a day when you feel absolutely awful and you just know that everything you want for yourself is beyond your reach. You’re angry, easily annoyed, and slowly sliding down into the thickening mud of your ennui. Stop. I am simply asking you to consider the fact that everyone suffers—for much the same reasons. There is not enough money to go around. Work is difficult. The boss is incompetent. My body aches. I don’t like the way I look. My wife is confusing. My husband doesn’t pay enough attention to me. My mom is always nagging me. My family really never supported me. When I am going to fulfill my dreams? I don’t know what is going to make me happy. Does anyone care what I have to say? Why do I feel so awful all the time?

Then there is this: My child just died. My dad has Alzheimer’s. We’re losing our home. I’m in constant pain. There isn’t enough food to eat. I don’t have clean water. Bombs are going off in my neighborhood. In short, it’s possible we haven’t quite cornered the market on suffering.

Now what? Do we continue to act like jerks? Or can we, just for a moment, take a deep breath and consider our true intentions? What do we really want from our relationships? What do we really want from our jobs? What do we really want from our creative projects? Are we doing what we can to make those things happen, or are we waiting for something else (perhaps divine providence) to make it happen for us?

But how will we know what to do?

Concept 3: Make yourself vulnerable.

This has to do with removing a lot of very complicated buckles and fasteners and ropes and harnesses and whatever else is holding our armoring in place. This means unmasking our coping mechanisms—especially the ones that serve as additional plating against the world at large. These are habits we’ve acquired, which aid us in our dealing with the day-to-day drudgery. Some of these mechanisms may be more healthful than others—mediation, yoga, art/music/dance, gardening, hobbies, social groups . . . things that engage us and make us feel lighter. These are things that actually give us the means to grow, communicate, remain calm and centered, and to focus. Then, there are other mechanisms, which may help for a very brief period of time but eventually leave us feeling heavier because they serve only to temporarily dilute or disguise the problem. It’s pretty easy to spot the devices. Usually, they are the things that leave us feeling regretful, diminished, ill, run-down, or disappointed. They are the things that hold us back rather than move us forward. They are the actions that don’t appear to be creating anything sustainable.

The only way we can develop compassion and empathy for others is to make our own selves vulnerable—to admit our weaknesses, which means admitting them first to ourselves. Once we have admitted them to ourselves, then we can spot the trouble at its root. We can see the lies and half-truths we tell ourselves—the things that have become habits and perpetual excuses. The “I’m just not good at this” line we feed ourselves when something simply requires a little more effort than we are accustomed to contributing. We are also good at telling ourselves that we’re too old to change—but the truth is that any energy we invest in our growth is always going to yield a positive return. Besides, when we say, “I’m just not good at this,” is it even true? Or is that just what we’ve been telling ourselves because we’ve grown accustomed to requiring others to compensate for what we lack?

I am all I really know in this world, but what if I could say this?

How can I be of service to you?

This expresses a beautiful, almost divine concept, yet it’s also the hardest to implement with any sincerity. Even as we say it, we’re hoping we can get something out of it. We’re hoping that the service will make us feel good, or perhaps it will be noticed and we’ll get a thank you . . . or someone will remember it and do something for us some day. It’s difficult to serve and expect nothing in return.

It’s even harder to serve someone who is hurting us because they, too, do not have adequate tools. They are in their own dark place, and we simply want them to “snap out of it.” But anyone who has ever paid a visit to the dark side knows that this is no simple thing. Manifesting positive results from the three concepts above—or any other actions that may take us to a place of authenticity—is an ongoing process.

I have not been fortunate enough to meet those who live in service to others without some underlying motivation (meaning I have not met Jesus of Nazareth or Gautama Siddhartha). This is America, land of the “what have you done for me lately” and the “have it your way.” Our sense of value has been diminished (Wal*Mart). The things we use in order to anesthetize ourselves feel as if they are dropping the consciousness level of the entire planet (insert reality TV series name of choice here, or maybe 70 percent of the viral videos currently on YouTube). We are a consumer driven culture, and when the media is not trying to agitate us with war, zealotry, and division, giant corporations are trying to soothe us with pharmaceuticals and images of things we must have—the latest techno-gadget, the newest car, a body spray that is guaranteed to attract a sex partner, male enhancements (for once you’ve attracted one), or failing that, a slicer/chopper/grater combo book light, which eliminates the muss and fuss (or your money back). Somewhere, buried beneath the steady glow of all our brightly-lit boxes, we’ve lost our motivation for something better. Buried even beneath that, perhaps, is our sense of what that something better is.

It’s hard to imagine being in service to others when we’re so busy trying to figure out how to get all of things we’re supposed to want—and when we’re imagining how others should be in service to us along the way to getting it. How can our interactions be genuine if this is the intention behind them? When everyone is simply out to “get theirs” or to feel good, then it’s no wonder we can’t connect. It’s no wonder we feel hurt, and angry, and desperate. It’s no wonder we’re all so unhappy, and trying simply to cope, feeling resigned to this sort of weary state of perpetual need, this constant hunger for more. We overlook many of the most obvious joys in our lives—which is also, coincidentally, the best way to lose them.

Some of us suffer from what I call Disappointment Dysmorphic Disorder. This is characterized by a malformed sense of disappointment, or an overblown sense of disappointment, dis-proportionate to one’s life circumstance. And when we’re caught in the throes of it, we’re blind to the tools and unique gifts that we do have . . . the means we have all been given to form healthy partnerships, to accomplish our goals, and to create a path that we will find fulfilling. One such primary tool is our ability to learn and adapt. Most of life’s happenings are beyond our control, and this sense of powerlessness can skew our perspective, but even as things change, we can learn to meet the new circumstance. Every moment of our lives, we have the capacity to learn something new. Our brains are capable of expanding, of making amazing cognitive leaps—we can grow new neural networks, make new connections . . . our “hard disk space” is organic, ever-changing, beyond what we could hope to fill in a lifetime.

The way you are right now is not the way you have to be forever. It is your choice. Genetics, hardwiring, conditioning, experiences, and the way you have put it all together has created deep set channels, like grooves in a record, through which you play your individual song. But you can carve new channels. It is possible to re-program. We can develop new techniques for dealing with our problems and for interacting with others. It may be difficult—it may take diligence and patience, and we may falter—but it is possible. We never have to remain stuck in what appears to be a hopeless situation. In fact, “hopeless” is merely a story we tell ourselves.

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