On a recent Friendship Bench we discussed how we receive information and what we do with it. My comments concerning an individual I interact with received a certain amount of interest. This person receives and transmits incoming data in, let’s just say, ways that differ from my own.
We’re a storytelling species. Stories are how we identify with a tribe or create a tribe of our own. Telling stories is in our DNA. Stories feed us, they nourish our souls, and satisfy our minds. Telling stories is what drives writers, painters, dancers, actors, musicians. Those artistic efforts are all storytelling, one way or another.
The downside of telling stories is…we tell stories! Our minds can’t abide a vacuum, a break in the action. ‘She threatened to jump if he didn’t…’ ‘His phone lit up with a number that…’ ‘Jake saw it coming, and knew…’ Our brains demand more details. She’ll jump if he doesn’t…what? A phone number that..? Jake saw what coming? We tell stories to fill that space.
The person I referred to at the Bench has a habit of seeking information about others, then using that information to either ingratiate themselves, or to insist on being correct on various topics being casually discussed. They seem to want to distance themselves from a group that’s defined by generosity, openness, and an immediate impulse to welcome everyone.
This person has gained an unenviable reputation for sharing things, passing along information about others that they believe will add to their credibility, and draw others to them. The opposite outcome is what happens. They’ve earned a reputation for being a gossip, and what my mother used to call, ‘a busybody,’ absorbing information for transactional purposes.
If their hope was to fit in, to belong, why would they do this? We learned long before junior high that no one likes a gossip. Especially when the gossiping party traffics in information gleaned from others.
I’m no psychologist. But I sense certain behavioral patterns, and underlying thoughts that can lead to this kind of interaction.
The first one that comes to mind is low self-esteem that can cause approach-avoidance. ‘I crave connection, but I’m not worthy of being connected, so I’ll sabotage the effort.’
The other behavior is an inability to be vulnerable to avoid potential hurts and insults any self-exposure might produce. ‘I’ll hide behind my mask, and that… (whatever damage) …will never happen to me again.’
Then there’s an inability to be one’s self, the active avoidance of knowing who we truly are, good, bad, and ugly, and then making peace with that understanding. ‘I’m doing just fine. Too bad they’re all so screwed up!’
Lastly, this person’s impulses are in direct contradiction to the fundamental teaching of our group, the concept of one-ness. This segment is taken from a chant we have each morning: “To everyone loving and gentle and kind, you’ll see naught but One, and in One keep your mind.” The deeper meaning of this is that we’re all one consciousness, one ‘mind’ connected and inseparable. After assimilating this concept we can’t imagine harming or disparaging another person. Instead, we consider everyone an integral part of ourselves, and the energy we’re all part of.
As I said, this person in our small and welcoming community enlarges the distance between themselves and the rest of us regularly, demanding separation. It’s sad and defeating for many of us who’ve taken the message of inclusion to heart and reached out to them. The pattern is well established: We initiate yet again, this person snaps at us in often bizarre fashion, so we (rightfully) retreat. The other message we hear is that we have an obligation to protect ourselves.
The fundamental lesson we’re receiving is that until and unless we become our best selves, we’re a work in progress. That work involves interacting with the world and people in it so that each moment, and each person we encounter, departs better off than when we met them. And the best way to receive the negative and often hurtful behaviors of certain people is to be grateful they crossed our path. Gratitude for challenging people and events is the best way to rise higher than we would otherwise be. Someone at The Bench labeled these challenges ‘saint-makers.’
I’m a work in progress; no halo for me just yet. The person in question still lives rent-free in my brain, soaking up far too much of my energy. I’ve learned to refer to them as my teacher, and to say thank you, even if I don’t always mean it. It’s a short path from pity to resentment. Often, the question is, “Why can’t you just do the work we’re doing?”
I’ve also learned that the reaching out can come from an ego position, an impulse to ‘fix’ someone else’s bad attitude, or to be ‘the one’ who finally leads them to see the light. The best lesson is simply to be grateful for whatever progress we can make with our own challenges, and to know that we may be someone else’s saint maker. That’s real progress.
