Making it personal not universal

Learning to communicate better by making it less about “everybody” and more about me.

I’m overwhelmed by the amount of content I’m bombarded by daily, so I’ve made a pact with myself to be a part of the solution not the problem. I’m on a mission to say less.

But the itch is back. The itch to iron out my thoughts and justify my view of reality publicly. I’ve told myself I won’t publish unless an idea creates enough pressure in my sternum that I have to spew it on a page. I’m feeling that pressure now, so hello again!

Though I’m inclined to write this as instruction, I’m working on being less instructional, so I’m formatting this as “Reminders to self”. If this make sense and is useful to you, terrific! If not — and you have the time to read yet another blog — humor me.

Reminder to self #1: Quit espousing “universal truths”. Talk about your personal experience instead.

I probably wouldn’t have caught on to this unpleasant habit of mine if my husband hadn’t told me repeatedly to “stop generalizing” or “painting everything with a broad brush”. When I get passionate about a subject, I’m guilty of making blanket statements: “That’s the trouble with people (all people, the entire human race)…we (insert chosen common flaw that I’ve identified in myself and attributed to all my fellow human beings)”, “you always” (a marriage classic), “If only we (all people) did this, then the problem would be reduced, the world would be a better place” (something to that effect).

Now, I’m making a greater effort to talk in terms of my own experience rather than shoot my mouth off about “the universal experience” because I don’t really know anybody else’s experience but my own.

Because I often feel so connected to my fellow human beings (aren’t we all just particles in the same cosmic soup?) I need to remind myself that I am not you and you are not me. Though we have our humanity in common, we are (in this incarnation at least) distinct and separate entities so I can’t accurately infer what motivates you based on knowledge of what motivates me.

So how do I get around my tendency to project my internal perceptions onto others, onto the whole wide world?

I’ve worked with many therapists who’ve shared the value of using “I” statements. It’s an oldie but goodie! “It’s cold” is different from “I’m cold”. “It’s cold” assumes that the cold temperature in a shared room or environment is an objective truth. “I’m cold” is a subjective statement about how my body is experiencing the temperature, and no one can take that away from me even on a 100-degree Fahrenheit day. A statement like “ghosts are real” is bait for an argument. “I believe that ghosts are real” acknowledges the weakness inherent in the idea of ghosts (or anything else) — their existence is merely a matter of one person’s belief system — so the addition of “I believe”, “I imagine”, “I feel”, “the way I see it” or “In my opinion” is a gentler way of sharing “the-world-as-Michele-sees-it” with someone else.

“Remember lady, you are no arbiter of truth,” I tell myself. “Your job is only to discern what feels true for you in any given moment.”

Reminder to self #2: Quit complaining about the system being the cause of “the suffering in the world”. Focus instead on reducing your own personal suffering.

I’m presenting this idea as “reminder to self”, but really, I’m writing this because I need a space to complain about friends who I’ve been judging as whiney. No doubt, I’m guilty of whining myself, but it’s always harder to see the crime when it’s mine…so much more fun to send others to the gallows!

Have you had to endure someone griping too loudly and for a little too long about social inequality, environmental degradation, the patriarchy, capitalism, Trump, the homeless crisis, the concept of God, AI, Gen Ys, boomers, saturated fats, whatever? I attend to my friends when they indulge in “the world is going to hell” sermons or the poor mes because I love them. But I lose it when I see them getting energized by their own outrage or feeling empowered by the indignation they’re stoking with their victimization narrative.

Last week, my patience ran thin listening to a news-addicted friend rant against the system and how everything is rigged to stop them from succeeding in life. I got tired and crabby. I belted out my take on things.

“Who’s asking you to carry the suffering of the world on your shoulders? You have your own load and that’s the only one you need carry well. ‘Cos if you’re not carrying your own load, someone else is gonna have to pick up after you. If you’re distracting yourself with all the shit happening out there in the world, but not cleaning up your own, someone else (like your patient friend here listening to you) is gonna have to smell it. So deal with your own pain instead of fixating on the problems in the world.”

She clapped and stopped complaining. I felt very proud of myself. Which brings me to the self-aggrandizing danger of advice giving.

Reminder to self #3: Quit giving advice. If you think it’s true and useful, write about it or make art about it instead.

As a therapist, offering “constructive suggestions” is what’s expected of me at times, but I take this a little far when I go into advice-giving mode in my non-professional relationships too. (My couple’s counselor knows all about this!) When I hear someone expressing distress, I feel obliged to mentally scan my “encyclopedia of how to do life” for solutions I can offer. You can imagine how well this goes down!

It’s clear to me that this is behavior I need to stop because I f*cking hate it when someone else gives me unsolicited advice. I do not like it when someone comes at me swinging their baseball bat of sage-like wisdom!

Reiterating reminder to self #1, I can always say what I would do in their situation, but I’m gonna be more careful about giving guidance unless someone asks for it.

My hypothesis is this: In a typical social interaction, most people don’t really care to hear anyone else’s “recommendations for action” because each has their own idea about “a perfect world” and “how things work around here” which they reference every moment of their lives. I imagine that when I share my opinions about love, life, death, health, spirituality, AI, chickens, vitamins etcetera — especially if shared in an authoritative manner — my listener processes this information by comparing it to their own templates and deciding if they agree or disagree. When I release my opinions with too much confidence and clout, if my listener’s views are in strong alignment with my own, our interaction will be easy and smooth. But when I give advice to someone whose views on the matter are in stark opposition to mine, the atmosphere becomes tense and defenses go up.

Advice-giving is necessary in the context of parent instructing child, teacher explaining to student, doctor treating patient, lawyer advising plaintiff, or consultant offering business advise, but in most other situations, advice-giving is a hierarchical communication strategy where the advice-giver/problem-solver places themselves above the person they are talking to (at!). Advice-giving can inadvertently become a show of one-upmanship. It’s offensive because it operates under the assumption that the listener knows less than the speaker.

What to do then, with all these wonderful insights that want to jump out of my throat? I guess the only way to unleash them peacefully is through the written word, or some other creative act where “pearls of wisdom” and felt senses are released, not at a hapless individual who couldn’t care less, but out into cyberspace where those who are meant to find it will.