"Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses." - Proverbs 27:6
"Whoever says to the wicked, 'You are in the right,' will be cursed by peoples, abhorred by nations, but those who rebuke the wicked will have delight, and a good blessing will come upon them. Whoever gives an honest answer kisses the lips." - Proverbs 24:24-26
My summary: speaking up for the truth is better and more loving than staying silent or lying to spare someone's feelings. I remind myself because a few nights ago I delivered some honest and direct feedback to a near-stranger (I'll call her M) about her behavior. For this post, I mingle all the following kinds of things: speaking up for the truth, boundary-setting, criticism, saying, "no" to a request, and honestly saying, "here's how your behavior (negatively) affected me."
I know what it feels like to have someone level with you when you're not used to it. It hurts. It can feel embarrassing and/or make you angry. (I certainly think that turned out to be the case for M. She also told me I had been rude.) Yet I'm glad to have pushed (or to have been pushed) through by being spoken to honestly, because it's made my life more productive and more pleasant. There's freedom and safety when people are respectfully straight-up with you. In my younger and more insecure days, I feared corrective criticism, thinking it meant a loss of love. Turns out the opposite is true. Where criticism is offered in love, it is safe to keep risking failure and become your best self, which is the business of living. When someone thinks you can do better, you're motivated to improve. I may not have been close to M, but my response was a blend of love for both of us: making sure her irritating behavior didn't continue around me (caring for myself) and letting her know how she was being received (seeking the best for her). I won't go into much more detail, but my intentions were all good. I knew there was a risk she'd be hurt, but my desire was to help her, not to harm her, and given the available information, I thought the potential benefit outweighed the risk. I acted knowing that in the course of my life I once hated negative feedback and later felt grateful for it.
Times I've set a boundary or said no to someone despite temptation to say what they wanted to hear created a short time of pain followed by an endless time of relief. Times I said what the other person wanted to hear when it wasn't true or didn't reflect what I wanted created a moment of relief followed by an extended time of feeling trapped in a worsening problem. In retrospect, it's extremely easy to see the better choice, yet in the moment it's still tempting to tell a white lie. But lying to spare feelings creates a second problem. The original one, serious enough you lied, hasn't disappeared, and now that you've lied, you'll either die without having come clean or face the music at some point and have to deal with it in an exaggerated form.
This article pointed me to some romantically-inspired statistics that support this idea. Dr. Hannah Fry of University College London delved into the "mathematics of love," and was surprised to find that, "couples who have a ‘low negativity threshold’ – or in other words complain about things that annoy them readily... are less likely to trouble the divorce courts. Dr. Fry said: ‘I thought that a high threshold of negativity, where you let things go on and let your partner 'be themselves', would be more successful. But the exact opposite is true. The couples who end up doing best have a really low negativity threshold. When things bother them they speak up immediately and don’t let small things spill out of control.’"
She learned about the negativity threshold from the work of Dr. John Gottman, a marriage and family therapist who has conducted extensive research. This particular study lasted for years. "Looking at the negativity threshold helped the researchers predict which couples would get divorced with an impressive 90 per cent accuracy. The researchers compared 'repairing' problems in a marriage to treating a small scratch early, which is better for your health than dealing with it when it has become badly infected."
TV show characters lie to spare feelings every couple of minutes (at least on the shows I watch)! This is probably because such behavior inevitably creates tension and drama, which advances a plot, but in real life it's not funny to have massive relational and professional problems, so I try to use them as cautionary tales instead of models.
The "bring it up when it's small" approach has been effective for me when I manage to use it. I tell myself, "if they're mad, they'll get over it, and if they don't, they might not be in a place to have a healthy relationship right now: good to know." M chose to end contact with me, and when she did I literally said "hallelujah" aloud (don't worry, it was over text, so she didn't hear me). In other words, that outcome was a gain, not a loss. The good options were change or parting ways. Change seemed unlikely but possible. The only negative outcome would be no change and no parting of the ways. Other recent "no"s have protected me from a pushy Facebook friendship and from giving time and money to a cause I couldn't support. These little situations were awkward, but now register as small blips in my memory. I doubt if I'd caved and said "yes" I'd feel the same now.
In case my celebration of saying no sounds negative, I want to emphasize that the reason for saying no is to serve the big yeses in life: yes to living authentically, yes to healthy relationships, yes to free time and rest, yes to self-esteem and self-trust. You can't get to these yeses without some serious no action!
Showing posts with label Proverbs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Proverbs. Show all posts
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Thursday, 19 May 2016
Sticking My Hand in a Snake Den: Controversial Facebooking
I guess everyone knows that a reasonable political debate on Facebook is like a unicorn sighting. I see Facebook more as a means of getting better informed and hearing multiple perspectives than an effective mind-changer.
I have commented on controversial issues on Facebook a handful of times in the past year. None has ended satisfyingly, though some have felt useful at some point. When I comment, I'm not picking a fight. I'm not even sharing my "side" on a subject, though I am treated as though I have and I dissented, which is fair since I haven't simply said, "Yeah, totally!" My views (like I would hope most peoples') are way too nuanced for Facebook, which is no place for nuance. Sound bites and oversimplifications win the day there. And often it really is only a day; the great river of new posts rolls ever on.
No, I don't bring my own ideas to the table. There's no point debating conclusions while we can't even agree on premises. My involvement is to address times: 1) the truth is being distorted beyond recognition, or 2) a sensible question or point is blasted as being ridiculous and unworthy of being entertained. I have asked people to at least consider where the other side is coming from instead of rejecting it outright. I would never attempt this in a random comments section, one full of strangers. That would be like, as Proverbs 26:17 puts it, grabbing a stray dog by the ears.* It's not my quarrel. My quarrel, I suppose, is against misinformation and unwarranted ridicule. When the original poster is a friend, someone I'd like to consider somewhat reasonable, and the lies have harmful implications for an important matter, I sometimes can't resist weighing in, hence, my comments.
I weigh in if only for the sake of readers who may believe they learned something from the original post; the idea that what they "learned" is false is so abhorrent to me that it's caused me to take risks that are perhaps foolish. If people are going to hate something, I desperately want it to be for the right reasons. If they have all the facts and conclude differently than me, that's their prerogative, but I can't bear to think that they're being fed a pack of lies and believing they're choosing wisely or rationally. I saw this quote the other day from a book I haven't yet read that accurately captures my concern: “A reliable way to make people believe in falsehoods is frequent repetition, because familiarity is not easily distinguished from truth. Authoritarian institutions and marketers have always known this fact.” --Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow. I don't know whether the quote would have an effect on others, but it hits me in the gut and then the tear ducts. We are surrounded by lies and finding the truth is hard work. Do people know this? Do they do that hard work? Or do they assume the truth doesn't matter, doesn't exist, or is equivalent to what they usually hear on a daily basis?
A friend pointed out that people often don't understand their own or the other person's premises, so that's why we have so many zero-sum conversations. I wish people would examine their premises. Here's an example: I once asked a young woman why she supported Planned Parenthood. She replied, "Because I respect women." Full stop. Funny, I respect women, too, and that's the exact reason I'm not a fan of theirs. It wasn't the time nor place (nor relationship, honestly) to go deeper on that particular topic, but it left me thinking that she's imbibed the cultural, broadly repeated, governmentally-sanctioned message that respect for women goes hand-in-hand with PP, without actually considering what respect means or looks like or independently examining how PP does or doesn't live up to the ideal of respect for women, men, children, law enforcement, etc.
My efforts to publicly dig deeper on Facebook are overall super unwelcome. I see glints of civility shining upon the lakes of hostility. Irritatingly, I am often attacked for things I didn't say. What a waste of time. More than once, I've sensed that someone didn't even read what I said, instead spotting a few keywords and launching into their own rote reply. I am concerned that "opponents" see my words and assume I am making things up. I endeavor not to be that irresponsible. I favor statistics, case studies, and informed testimonies. If I didn't honestly believe in the validity of what I was saying, based on evidence, I would consider it useless, even foolish, to dare to speak up at all, because I'd be afraid of being found out and invalidated. Sometimes it's not a matter of sharing truths I've learned, but simply of posing a question. A common reaction to valid questions in these settings is to treat them as invalid so as to say, "I'm not going to dignify that with a response." This tactic short-circuits learning and dialogue on both sides.
I've always wanted so much for people to not think I'm an idiot, but apparently I've finally found something for which I'm willing to stick my neck out. I'm not even at the phase of trying to defend Biblical truth or anything close to that, just basic truths about facts and logic and differing perspectives that will allow us to occupy the same space for long enough to actually interact instead of just screaming past one another at the height of emotion and disgust, with no common ground. The truth doesn't need to fear honest questions or true statistics, so I don't need to fear those things. If I'm honest and sincere with questions and answers, maybe I'll see a place I was wrong and get closer to the actual truth. The truth doesn't need to bully or cave to popular opinion. If I beat someone down with excellently-worded rebuttals, that doesn't make me more right. If I am the only person to say "X" in a 200-comment thread of people insisting, "Y," and patting each other on the back, that doesn't make me more wrong. The truth is unwelcome when conclusions have already been drawn, since truth has consequences and if it causes a chink in the armor of certainty, it could ruin it all. Integrity is a dangerous thing, because it means you can't promise unconditional loyalty to a group, person, or idea, however lucrative or popular.
And it's dangerous for me personally because I know what waits for me on the other side of desperately trying to inject some balance into ridicule. I pay a high emotional cost for my involvement. I know I'm not the only person to experience this, and I can't measure it against anyone else (what would be the unit of measurement?) but it's very high for me. My life is pleasant enough now that these comment exchanges have been some of the most physically and emotionally unpleasant things I have experienced all year. Almost each time, I have physically trembled after posting, then again after reading harsh replies, and it can take a day to calm back down all the way. I hate having secrets or mental barriers or resistance in my mind; I think it's unhealthy as a source of constant stress. So when I intentionally avoid Facebook for a time to avoid pain aka notifications, this avoidance is ugly to me. Anxiety flares up and I have to remind myself that even though words can have the physical effect of someone reaching through my screen and throttling me, they cannot touch me, they don't know where I live, and I can decide how much I accept their anger, at least in theory.
To say commenting never, ever works is a huge oversimplification, I know. It works sometimes. Here and there, good things happen. Here and there, a commenter says I brought something new to their attention. Of course, there's always the quiet hope that an anonymous reader also got something out of it. I can't say whether it's all worth the cost I pay for it; I'd have no way to measure that. I don't even know if it's worth it for me. I suppose it must be; maybe I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never even tried. From now on, whatever else happens, I'll always be able to say I tried. But I may find that I stick to blogging.
* Proverbs 26:17 (NIV) Like one who grabs a stray dog by the ears is someone who rushes into a quarrel not their own.
I have commented on controversial issues on Facebook a handful of times in the past year. None has ended satisfyingly, though some have felt useful at some point. When I comment, I'm not picking a fight. I'm not even sharing my "side" on a subject, though I am treated as though I have and I dissented, which is fair since I haven't simply said, "Yeah, totally!" My views (like I would hope most peoples') are way too nuanced for Facebook, which is no place for nuance. Sound bites and oversimplifications win the day there. And often it really is only a day; the great river of new posts rolls ever on.
No, I don't bring my own ideas to the table. There's no point debating conclusions while we can't even agree on premises. My involvement is to address times: 1) the truth is being distorted beyond recognition, or 2) a sensible question or point is blasted as being ridiculous and unworthy of being entertained. I have asked people to at least consider where the other side is coming from instead of rejecting it outright. I would never attempt this in a random comments section, one full of strangers. That would be like, as Proverbs 26:17 puts it, grabbing a stray dog by the ears.* It's not my quarrel. My quarrel, I suppose, is against misinformation and unwarranted ridicule. When the original poster is a friend, someone I'd like to consider somewhat reasonable, and the lies have harmful implications for an important matter, I sometimes can't resist weighing in, hence, my comments.
I weigh in if only for the sake of readers who may believe they learned something from the original post; the idea that what they "learned" is false is so abhorrent to me that it's caused me to take risks that are perhaps foolish. If people are going to hate something, I desperately want it to be for the right reasons. If they have all the facts and conclude differently than me, that's their prerogative, but I can't bear to think that they're being fed a pack of lies and believing they're choosing wisely or rationally. I saw this quote the other day from a book I haven't yet read that accurately captures my concern: “A reliable way to make people believe in falsehoods is frequent repetition, because familiarity is not easily distinguished from truth. Authoritarian institutions and marketers have always known this fact.” --Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow. I don't know whether the quote would have an effect on others, but it hits me in the gut and then the tear ducts. We are surrounded by lies and finding the truth is hard work. Do people know this? Do they do that hard work? Or do they assume the truth doesn't matter, doesn't exist, or is equivalent to what they usually hear on a daily basis?
A friend pointed out that people often don't understand their own or the other person's premises, so that's why we have so many zero-sum conversations. I wish people would examine their premises. Here's an example: I once asked a young woman why she supported Planned Parenthood. She replied, "Because I respect women." Full stop. Funny, I respect women, too, and that's the exact reason I'm not a fan of theirs. It wasn't the time nor place (nor relationship, honestly) to go deeper on that particular topic, but it left me thinking that she's imbibed the cultural, broadly repeated, governmentally-sanctioned message that respect for women goes hand-in-hand with PP, without actually considering what respect means or looks like or independently examining how PP does or doesn't live up to the ideal of respect for women, men, children, law enforcement, etc.
My efforts to publicly dig deeper on Facebook are overall super unwelcome. I see glints of civility shining upon the lakes of hostility. Irritatingly, I am often attacked for things I didn't say. What a waste of time. More than once, I've sensed that someone didn't even read what I said, instead spotting a few keywords and launching into their own rote reply. I am concerned that "opponents" see my words and assume I am making things up. I endeavor not to be that irresponsible. I favor statistics, case studies, and informed testimonies. If I didn't honestly believe in the validity of what I was saying, based on evidence, I would consider it useless, even foolish, to dare to speak up at all, because I'd be afraid of being found out and invalidated. Sometimes it's not a matter of sharing truths I've learned, but simply of posing a question. A common reaction to valid questions in these settings is to treat them as invalid so as to say, "I'm not going to dignify that with a response." This tactic short-circuits learning and dialogue on both sides.
I've always wanted so much for people to not think I'm an idiot, but apparently I've finally found something for which I'm willing to stick my neck out. I'm not even at the phase of trying to defend Biblical truth or anything close to that, just basic truths about facts and logic and differing perspectives that will allow us to occupy the same space for long enough to actually interact instead of just screaming past one another at the height of emotion and disgust, with no common ground. The truth doesn't need to fear honest questions or true statistics, so I don't need to fear those things. If I'm honest and sincere with questions and answers, maybe I'll see a place I was wrong and get closer to the actual truth. The truth doesn't need to bully or cave to popular opinion. If I beat someone down with excellently-worded rebuttals, that doesn't make me more right. If I am the only person to say "X" in a 200-comment thread of people insisting, "Y," and patting each other on the back, that doesn't make me more wrong. The truth is unwelcome when conclusions have already been drawn, since truth has consequences and if it causes a chink in the armor of certainty, it could ruin it all. Integrity is a dangerous thing, because it means you can't promise unconditional loyalty to a group, person, or idea, however lucrative or popular.
To say commenting never, ever works is a huge oversimplification, I know. It works sometimes. Here and there, good things happen. Here and there, a commenter says I brought something new to their attention. Of course, there's always the quiet hope that an anonymous reader also got something out of it. I can't say whether it's all worth the cost I pay for it; I'd have no way to measure that. I don't even know if it's worth it for me. I suppose it must be; maybe I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never even tried. From now on, whatever else happens, I'll always be able to say I tried. But I may find that I stick to blogging.
* Proverbs 26:17 (NIV) Like one who grabs a stray dog by the ears is someone who rushes into a quarrel not their own.
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