I love you – Here’s How You Should Change
I had an interesting experience last week.
I wanted to change someone I love. (I’ll call her Unnamed. If I named her, she’d never forgive me.)
Of course I wasn’t thinking about it like that at the time. I was thinking of how I wanted to help her, to get her to see how her behavior was hurting others and driving them away.
I had some really good insights and ideas to share. I just had to figure out the best way to do so because I was pretty certain The Unnamed’s reception would not be anywhere near warm and may even go hostile. This intervention would require the utmost delicacy and planning.
Yes, now that I lay it out there like that, I realize how bad it sounds. Ouch.
(Sidenote: why the hell is hindsight 20/20 vision? Wouldn’t that be more helpful if foresight were perfect???)
On a Mission
With my blinded foresight I believed that as a loved one, it was my duty to help The Unnamed because no one else would do so (uh, rightly so).
Thus, The Unnamed Revamp Duty (TURD) Project became an act of love and my #1 priority.
I began plotting on my hike later that gorgeous afternoon. I spent the better part of two hours (it was a critical mission, with lots to consider) lost in thought. I didn’t notice a single thing on the trail – I could have been tailed by a moose for all I know.
I was so far up The Unnamed’s business I could not see sunshine. Literally.
Reality Check Lost in the Mail
I should know better – doubly so. I’m a shrink AND a life coach, for Pete’s sake.
I steer away from giving clients advice, partly because it’s not my job to do that and partly because so few people ever take it. (I’ve learned that the hard way.)
Even in the best of circumstances, friends rarely welcome unsolicited advice, no matter how ‘good’ it may be. In fact, the best way to get someone on the defensive is to ask “You know what you should do?” out of the blue. Then stand back – because they’re going to tell you what you should do, and it usually involves shoving something somewhere uncomfortable.
Do not give advice. Repeat: Do. Not. Give. Advice.
Out there in the woods, this never crossed my radar. Never.
Near the end of the trail, I concluded my feedback was best delivered in writing. providing time to ‘digest’ and not react quickly (as in, rip my head off). I was still deciding whether to handwrite it (leaving little opportunity for rewrites but being more personal) or type it.
Type. It’d need lots of editing.
Knowing how The Unnamed feels about email, I figured I’d have to suck up the delivery time and mail it – if I could bum a stamp from someone. I was willing to do a lot to help The Unnamed, but stepping inside a Post Office wasn’t one of them. Even this nosy do-gooder has limits.
I used the short car ride to recap the key points: I loved and wanted to help her, this was for her own good, and she’d be much happier if she made a few changes. I’d do it tomorrow.
Fortunately, that wait turned out to be a very good thing.
Photo Credit: Sean MacEntee (Creative Commons)
More Than the Sun Dawns
I woke up the next morning and opened my MacBook, eager to commence TURD Project writing.
It was at this point that my (long overdue) good sense finally kicked in.
Like an exasperated drill sergeant, a voice in my head barked “Hey, you! Whose business are you in right now?”
“Uh, [The Unnamed’s] business – but this is important,” I weakly insisted.
“It’s important for YOU, not for her. Unless you want [The Unnamed] to hand your shit right back to you – which she could, you’d best back off. You say you love her? Then do it – and accept her for who she is.”
“Of course I love her,” I insisted. Wasn’t that obvious by doing this – and doing it so nicely?
“Then get out of her business. Now,” he ordered. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you focus on minding your own business? I can see you have plenty to do right here. Should I make you a list?”
Damn. Smacked down by my own mind before I’d even had a sip of coffee.
A Better Approach
The drill sergeant voice was right. I’d wasted at least three hours (probably more like four) planning this intervention that was none of my damn business.
I shut down TURD Project immediately – and felt like one.
And then I got very quiet, opened my heart, and put The Unnamed right in there, sending her love and acceptance, exactly as she is. I felt the energy around the situation drain away. I was back where I belonged: in my own business.
Photo Credit: Alain Bachellier (Creative Commons)
I called The Unnamed later that day, just to tell her I loved her and was thinking about her. She brightened like the sun – I could literally feel it over the telephone connection.
For a few seconds, I felt like an insensitive jerk, remembering TURD. Then I let that go and enjoyed knowing my call had made her day.
Getting Busy Minding My Own Business
Byron Katie rightly says there are three kinds of business: mine, yours, and God’s/Reality. Since the only one we can change is our own, we can avoid a lot of stress and suffering by staying out of other people’s business.
Lesson learned. Again.
I grabbed a mug of coffee and started minding my own business.
I had a full schedule.
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