I had an experience recently in a long-term learning group that I was in. All the participants had made a commitment to attend six 3-day sessions over an 18-month period of time.
At the last session, however, one of the participants did not come. He left a message stating he was unable to come without an explanation as to why. His absence was felt by all of us.
As a group, we had a discussion about the impact of his absence on the rest of us. I missed his presence he is someone who I care about and learn from whenever we are in a group together. However, while I missed his presence, based on our past relationship, I felt certain that he had a good reason not to attend. I had no anger about it. What was interesting, however, was that without any knowledge about why he had been unable to come, it was so easy for each of us to make up stories about what had prevented him from coming.
This made me realize how critical the difference is between telling ones own stories and telling stories about others. When we tell our own stories, we create meaning for ourselves and share that meaning with others. Through the telling of the story, we are able to share the context within which our experience took place, helping others gain insight into our own particular perspective.
When we tell stories about other people, on the other hand, the stories we tell are usually more about ourselves than about the other person. Our assumptions about the world come into play when we create stories about others. For example, some individuals who have issues about rejection may make up a story about the individual’s lack of concern or caring for them, reinforcing their feeling of rejection. Others may make up stories about some horrible event such as family illness that interfered with the person’s ability to come. In the end, they are just stories we make up in the absence of information.
As human beings, we have such a strong need to have others behavior make sense to us that we create stories to explain things when we don’t have enough information to understand. We tend to make up stories about another’s intent, rather than sit in the discomfort of the unknown, and focusing on the impact.
Making up stories, however, can be problematic. This is because when we make up stories about others, we often do so with a sense of evaluation and judgment, using stereotypes and making negative assumptions about others’ intent in the process.
Making an evaluation is different than engaging in discernment. By engaging in discernment, I mean simply observing the data that is available and getting in touch with the impact of the behavior on us, without having to go to the next step and make judgments and interpretations of the possible intent behind the behavior. This means we may need to sit in a state of not knowing, uncomfortable as that might be.
So, in this instance, more important trying to make up a story about why my friend was unable to come (as long as he was not in danger of some kind which he had indicated he was not), was becoming aware of its impact on each of us. Focusing on the impact takes away the need to make up a story about the other person. The impact we experience is personal and is about us.
Often, however, we blame the impact on others. For example, in this instance, I felt no anger, merely disappointment because I missed the presence of my friend. If I could accept his absence without making up a story about his intent when I wasn’t angry, I should be able to do so even if I were angry.
I realized the importance of distinguishing between my feelings about a behavior the impact it has on me and the desire to make up a story about someone’s intentions based on those feelings. Because I was not angry, I was able to look at the situation with love and compassion for my friend. I assumed he had a good reason for not coming and felt no need to make one up.
This experience made clear to me that our feelings and relationships with others impact the stories we make up so we may respond to the same action differently depending on the individual involved. In this instance, I had trust in my relationship with my absent friend. Because of what I knew about him, his absence did not leave me feeling rejected. I was able to accept that he would not be there and move on.
My response in this instance it made it possible for me to see that if someone else had been absent, I may have responded differently. In other situations, when I feel anger, rejection, etc., my own insecurities or lack of trust in the relationship may leave me with a strong desire to know why an action was taken/not taken. This leads to spending time and energy obsessing about and inventing possible stories to explain things.
This leaves me unable to be present in the moment because I am too busy making up stories about someone who is not there. And, if often reinforces my insecurity and can lead to negative assumptions about the other person.
So, the reason for another’s behavior is less important than being able to focus on the impact of it on me, both because another’s behavior and thoughts are out of my control and because making a story up does not make it true. The person could have had a reasonable excuse or could have been just plain inconsiderate.
If my positive feelings for one person can enable me to refrain from making up negative stories about them, then I should be able to refrain from making up stories and be able to respond with acceptance, love, and compassion in other situations as well.
Responding with love and understanding is not the same thing as allowing oneself to put up with hurtful behavior. If someone consistently fails to meet your expectations and proves through their actions that whatever the reason, they cannot be counted on, it makes sense to no longer count on that person. I may even decide to end relationships because of that or change my expectations about the kind of relationship it is but I need to be able to do so without holding in negative energy in ways that are toxic to me and to others around me.
Thus, if I had been angry, even if I felt that he must have had a good reason for not coming, I would still have needed to get in touch with my anger so that it could move out of me. Otherwise, it might become either a resentment that would negatively impact our future interactions or some internal physical pain resulting from burying it.
As an extrovert, getting in touch with my feelings often means that I need to talk about them. I may not even know what I am feeling until I talk about it out loud to a caring listener. Having a caring listener leaves me feeling heard and validated. Of course, the best-case scenario is being able to be heard, listened to and validated by the person whose action led to the impact but that is not always possible.
I realized that we can choose to see situations as both/and rather than either/or. I can be both angry and compassionate and understanding. If I allow myself to feel angry, I can reach the feelings that are usually underneath the anger hurt, rejection, disappointment, etc. And, if necessary, at some point I could tell the individual the impact his absence had on me with love and compassion, not blame, criticism, or judgment.
I have to be able to handle disappointments of all kinds in the same way. Yes, the impact on me may be different one person’s presence may be more important than another’s, for example. But, my ultimate response needs to be the same if I am going to walk the walk. I need to be able to detach myself from my expectations, find a way to acknowledge the impact on me whatever it is and nonetheless respond with compassion and love.
The Quilt of Humanity ModelTM: When we respond to others with love and compassion, we maintain the threads of connection that enable us to reach a mutual understanding.
I appreciate the clarity and depth of insight here, Deb. It occurs to me how helpful it is for me when someone else is aware that she is making up a story, acknowledges it, maybe even restrains herself around it. This is good boundary management practice for me too. Being sloppy at the margins seems like one way to deflect group energy away from depth work. We have to deal with the sloppiness instead of diving deep. Thank you for the generosity of your insight.
Thank you, Rianna, “Boundary” is a great word and a wonderful way to think about distinguishing between stories about self and stories about others – what is the boundary between self and others? What is my “stuff” and what is not?
Deb, thank for this detailed and insightful discussion of stories.
You mention that your friend gave some information, i.e. that he was not in danger. He was able to “take care” of you to that extent but chose not to expand, thus inviting you and others to fill the information gap with a story or stories, and giving you the gift of excitement, mystery and suspense, playfulness and drama. It seems to me that where people trust and care about each other this may not be a bad thing.
In any event his action/decision certainly had an impact which gave you the opportunity to think and reflect.
Hans,
Trust is important. Sometimes, trust is what keeps us from creating negative stories – I want to try to keep myself from creating negative stories even without a personal foundation of a trusting relationship.
Wow! That was powerful! I’m trying to figure out ways to use your reflections with my new AmeriCorps members in this coming service year…
Peace, Barbara-Jean
Barbara-Jean,
Please keep me posted – I’d love to hear what you do.
Deb