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in the weeds
Leo McGarry: This guy's walking down a street, when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep. He can't get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up "Hey you! Can you help me out?" The doctor writes him a prescription, throws it down the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up "Father, I'm down in this hole, can you help me out?" The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. "Hey Joe, it's me, can you help me out?" And the friend jumps in the hole! Our guy says "Are you stupid? Now we're both down here!" and the friend says, "Yeah, but I've been down here before, and I know the way out."
Buffy: My life happens to, on occasion, suck beyond the telling of it. Sometimes more than I can handle. And it’s not just mine. Every single person down there is ignoring your pain because they’re too busy with their own. The beautiful ones. The popular ones. The guys that pick on you. Everyone. If you could hear what they were feeling. The loneliness. The confusion. It looks quiet down there. It’s not. It’s deafening.
The perfection problem
The above link was given by a couple of people Facebook recently. In the process of reading and thinking about it, it helped me crystalize some of how my thinking has evolved over the last few years.
In his essay the author discusses the pressure to appear perfect. Many, if not most, of us expend a lot of effort to put forth the appearance that everything is A-OK. He talks about how it stands in the way of being real about what is happening within our own lives, what's real in the lives of those around us, and how destructive that can ultimately be. (There are probably better summaries than that, but read the piece and decide for yourself. I think it's excellent.)
I have this theory that no matter how old we get, a remnant of a junior high person resides deep inside us. Do you remember being thirteen or fourteen and feeling awkward or stupid or ugly or just plain not good enough? I remember it as a basically miserable time, but thinking that everybody else had it together. It's not until you get older and talk to other people and look back that you begin to understand that almost everybody else felt pretty much the same way you did. (If you’re someone who has always been confident and together, congratulationsand grrr.
We grow up. We gain experience. We become accomplished at things. And often, still, in our hearts of hearts, it's not uncommon to look around and think everybody else has it together while we feel like we don't quite measure up. Rightly or wrongly, I'm convinced that there are many, many people living lives of quiet desperation. I would bet that anyone reading this post--whether they know it or not--knows at least one person who falls into that category. And it's easy to feel alone in that. Because as much as (in the U.S. at least) we seem to live in a society where anything and everything goes as far revealing information, we often don’t get all that real about sharing what's really going on inside, what scares us, what we struggle with, how we feel. We put up defenses and cover and scramble in order to maintain appearances that all is as it "should be."
Several years ago when my older brother committed suicide, I hesitated at first about whether I was supposed directly to say what had happened. There was a thought in the back of my mind that maybe that wasn't the proper "etiquette." And then I made the deliberate decision that "no. This is what happened. There's no reason to pretend it was anything else." We never really talked about it, but my parents did the same thing. Ultimately, being open about it was much easier. I was amazed at how many people I knew who had relatives or friends who had killed themselves. I even had a couple of people who had never been able to talk about it to anyone else, talk to me. In a way, that openness was almost a healing thing to me and it may have been to others too.
In a more frivolous example, the first few months of puppy ownership were not easy for me. There were a number of times when I seriously considered whether I was up to the task and whether I needed to return the dog. Tears were shed on more than one occasion. These were not easy things to say. In dog-owner communities admissions of difficulties can often be met with judgment. Eventually I got through the most difficult times. Some timely words of wisdom from people on my flist were extremely helpful. Later, with the worst of it behind me, I was able to talk more openly about my struggles and frustrations and insecurities with others. I was surprised at often my words would be received with a spark of recognition. “I thought I was the only one!” And in turn, I was able to offer words of reassurance to people who were where I had been before.
I'm working on a theory that fears and anxieties are like weeds. When you tend a flower garden, you lovingly fertilize and prune and water and weed. For flowers to be their healthiest it takes some work and care. In that same environment, however, weeds thrive with neglect. Not watering? Not mulching? Not paying any attention to them whatsoever? Too hot? Too wet? No problem for the weeds. They'll grow and grow. Continue to ignore them and they can overtake and choke off the other plants that you want there. Fear and anxiety can be like that. Push them down. Ignore them. Avoid them. Keep them in a dark, hidden place. They have a nasty habit of growing and multiplying in the dark. Then they’ll bubble up in ways you don't expect. But when you bring them to the light and examine them and share them, amazing things can sometimes happen. The scary things can begin to be a little less scary. The burdens can start to feel a little lighter. It’s not a magic cure. But it can help.
I’m not advocating that we should all start vomiting up every personal detail of our lives at any time at the drop of a hat. What I do advocate is being genuine about ourselves with the people around us. It’s amazing how often things can start to ease when you stop putting the energy into maintaining a pretence. Whatever you’re struggling with, the chances are high that someone else you know is struggling with the same thing. Or has struggled with it and has wisdom to offer. It’s okay to be imperfect. No one is. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. We all need it. We’re all in this together. Let’s be good to ourselves and be good to each other.
I’ve probably embarrassed myself and you with all of this. Once this posts, I’m sure I’ll wonder why this seemed like a good idea. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about lately, so I thought “what they hey, I’ll just put it out there.” People can skip it if they want.
Buffy: My life happens to, on occasion, suck beyond the telling of it. Sometimes more than I can handle. And it’s not just mine. Every single person down there is ignoring your pain because they’re too busy with their own. The beautiful ones. The popular ones. The guys that pick on you. Everyone. If you could hear what they were feeling. The loneliness. The confusion. It looks quiet down there. It’s not. It’s deafening.
The perfection problem
The above link was given by a couple of people Facebook recently. In the process of reading and thinking about it, it helped me crystalize some of how my thinking has evolved over the last few years.
In his essay the author discusses the pressure to appear perfect. Many, if not most, of us expend a lot of effort to put forth the appearance that everything is A-OK. He talks about how it stands in the way of being real about what is happening within our own lives, what's real in the lives of those around us, and how destructive that can ultimately be. (There are probably better summaries than that, but read the piece and decide for yourself. I think it's excellent.)
I have this theory that no matter how old we get, a remnant of a junior high person resides deep inside us. Do you remember being thirteen or fourteen and feeling awkward or stupid or ugly or just plain not good enough? I remember it as a basically miserable time, but thinking that everybody else had it together. It's not until you get older and talk to other people and look back that you begin to understand that almost everybody else felt pretty much the same way you did. (If you’re someone who has always been confident and together, congratulations
We grow up. We gain experience. We become accomplished at things. And often, still, in our hearts of hearts, it's not uncommon to look around and think everybody else has it together while we feel like we don't quite measure up. Rightly or wrongly, I'm convinced that there are many, many people living lives of quiet desperation. I would bet that anyone reading this post--whether they know it or not--knows at least one person who falls into that category. And it's easy to feel alone in that. Because as much as (in the U.S. at least) we seem to live in a society where anything and everything goes as far revealing information, we often don’t get all that real about sharing what's really going on inside, what scares us, what we struggle with, how we feel. We put up defenses and cover and scramble in order to maintain appearances that all is as it "should be."
Several years ago when my older brother committed suicide, I hesitated at first about whether I was supposed directly to say what had happened. There was a thought in the back of my mind that maybe that wasn't the proper "etiquette." And then I made the deliberate decision that "no. This is what happened. There's no reason to pretend it was anything else." We never really talked about it, but my parents did the same thing. Ultimately, being open about it was much easier. I was amazed at how many people I knew who had relatives or friends who had killed themselves. I even had a couple of people who had never been able to talk about it to anyone else, talk to me. In a way, that openness was almost a healing thing to me and it may have been to others too.
In a more frivolous example, the first few months of puppy ownership were not easy for me. There were a number of times when I seriously considered whether I was up to the task and whether I needed to return the dog. Tears were shed on more than one occasion. These were not easy things to say. In dog-owner communities admissions of difficulties can often be met with judgment. Eventually I got through the most difficult times. Some timely words of wisdom from people on my flist were extremely helpful. Later, with the worst of it behind me, I was able to talk more openly about my struggles and frustrations and insecurities with others. I was surprised at often my words would be received with a spark of recognition. “I thought I was the only one!” And in turn, I was able to offer words of reassurance to people who were where I had been before.
I'm working on a theory that fears and anxieties are like weeds. When you tend a flower garden, you lovingly fertilize and prune and water and weed. For flowers to be their healthiest it takes some work and care. In that same environment, however, weeds thrive with neglect. Not watering? Not mulching? Not paying any attention to them whatsoever? Too hot? Too wet? No problem for the weeds. They'll grow and grow. Continue to ignore them and they can overtake and choke off the other plants that you want there. Fear and anxiety can be like that. Push them down. Ignore them. Avoid them. Keep them in a dark, hidden place. They have a nasty habit of growing and multiplying in the dark. Then they’ll bubble up in ways you don't expect. But when you bring them to the light and examine them and share them, amazing things can sometimes happen. The scary things can begin to be a little less scary. The burdens can start to feel a little lighter. It’s not a magic cure. But it can help.
I’m not advocating that we should all start vomiting up every personal detail of our lives at any time at the drop of a hat. What I do advocate is being genuine about ourselves with the people around us. It’s amazing how often things can start to ease when you stop putting the energy into maintaining a pretence. Whatever you’re struggling with, the chances are high that someone else you know is struggling with the same thing. Or has struggled with it and has wisdom to offer. It’s okay to be imperfect. No one is. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. We all need it. We’re all in this together. Let’s be good to ourselves and be good to each other.
I’ve probably embarrassed myself and you with all of this. Once this posts, I’m sure I’ll wonder why this seemed like a good idea. But it’s something I’ve been thinking about lately, so I thought “what they hey, I’ll just put it out there.” People can skip it if they want.
no subject
no subject
Because yes.
no subject
There's also the problem that making people feel bad about themselves so they buy things to make themselves feel better is the engine of our economy. It's what drives the diet and beauty industries as well as pretty much all advertising. "You suck for X reason, but buy THIS and you'll magically get better!" It reinforces our fear that we're the only one, even though the ad itself indicates whatever thing you have that's in the ad? There are other people, otherwise the product wouldn't exist. And yet, we still let it get to us. (People always claim advertising doesn't affect them. It's the response to almost any survey that ever asks the question directly. And yet.)
But that message gets amplified by us as people communicating with each other too (or not communicating with each other, as the case may be, which doesn't help. It's easier to change your own behavior patterns than the entire basis of American capitalism. Probably. ;)