Societal Change

      When we were in Scotland for the first time (5 years ago), one of the bus drivers said to all of us that he could tell if another driver was from Scotland or not because the Scottish drivers always greeted each other with a wave of the hand, whereas people from other countries, and the US in particular did not.  At the time he said this, I remember thinking that it really depended on which parts of the world and even of the country we were discussing.  My own experience had been that hiking or walking, in particular, always met with friendly encounters from other people; that if I smiled at someone as I passed, this was almost always met with a returning smile or even a "hello."

    But I think this is changing, and not for the better.  The last time I went for a hike and I smiled and said "hello" as I passed someone, the young woman just stared at me like I was from outer space.  I found this very disconcerting.

    Then this weekend Eldest and I went to a Halloween party for Monterey Bay Aquarium members.  Everyone was dressed in costume, everyone who went had to be an aquarium member.  But still, as I walked by others dressed in their costumes and would say things like "Oh, I love your costume!" I would usually get those same glass-eyed stares. 

    At first, I wondered if this was because I'm now a middle aged woman and we tend to disappear.  Books, articles, studies all talk about the fact that middle aged women are just not seen.  Doctors don't listen to us, store clerks won't engage us (as I shared in another article), and people in public no longer actually LOOK at us.  But Eldest was with me.  And Eldest experienced the same thing I did.  Eldest is a beautiful young person, so that was not it.  And Eldest encouraged me to watch and see how the groups at the aquarium interacted with each other.  Were any of them friendly to the other aquarium members who were attending the party?  Did any of the other families or groups choose to greet, smile, or acknowledge one another?  And the answer was a very sad, "No."

    For fear of sounding like one of those crotchety old people who complain that everything was better "back in my day," let me just say that I can understand where this behavior has come from.  We've taught our kids stranger-danger (though statistics say it is usually people the children know who do the most harm), so is it any wonder they've now grown up to be people who do not interact with strangers?  We have learned to isolate ourselves in our electronic devices, only "meeting" new people in virtual ways, so is it any surprise that we no longer remember how to meet or greet or talk to potential new connections and friends in person?  Add to that that in this moment in time, the polarization in our country and the discomfort talking to anyone from "the other side" politically makes it difficult for many to feel they want to risk a conversation with someone who may not be on the same page.

    Nonetheless, I feel we have lost something vital.  I felt very sad that my attempts to compliment or connect with others at the aquarium were met with distance and even fear.  While dressing up, seeing the fish and being with Eldest was great fun in itself, for me, Halloween has always been a time to connect with others, to be a parade of costumes and celebration as a community. And, as I often say, how can we hope to heal our country without actually talking to one another and trying to cross those divides?

    So where is the hope in this?  I continue to believe that we make the world what we want it to be.  So I will continue to greet the strangers I see.  I will continue to compliment others in their costumes and to delight in those who will smile back.  I will not be changed by those who believe it is necessary to be cold to and distant from strangers.  I encourage you to do the same.  We can make the world a kinder place by expressing the kindness we hope to find in the world.  

Happy Halloween!

It's all about the other.

           I wrote some time ago that hate connects you more deeply to the object of your hate than apathy ever could, that we care more deeply about those we actively dislike than we do about those we rarely think of.  I said that one of the most painful comments someone made to me was that they didn't care enough to hate me. That was years ago.  But a few months ago I had another similar encounter with a person out here.
           I was at a large meeting of colleagues when I ran into a woman who has actually made a point of not liking me.  We went to school together, sang in a choir together for two years, have served on committees together, been on retreat together many times, and have been in many of the same collegial groups together.  She has always been cold and distant.  More, she has sometimes been blatantly unkind, saying things that are pointedly mean or dismissive, and even blocking my participation in one group.
          In this particular instance, she was with someone who came over to talk to one of the people in the small group that I was with, and one of my friends said to her, "Do you know Barbara?"  Her response was, "Oh, I think I've seen you before once at a meeting of x."   At first I found myself just staring at her.  Really?  We were once at a meeting together?  It is not possible that she could not remember me as someone who sang with her every week for 2 years in a small 16 member choir.  It is not possible that she has forgotten that we served on a small 5 member committee together.  It is not possible that she doesn't remember that we have been to 25 person three day long retreats on a regular basis together.  It is highly unlikely, even, that she forgot we were at school together when the school was a very small, intimate community of people learning and worshiping together.  Does this mean the nasty comments she's made and the decision to block my participation in a group of colleagues was aimed at someone she doesn't even see?  No, her comment of "Oh, I think I've seen you before once in a meeting" was the same comment as that other person made years ago who said he did not even care about me enough to hate me.  It's the same comment.  But this time I don't think it was an honest account of her feelings.  In this case it was another intentional slam.  "You are not important enough for me to remember."  It was an attack.
          But interestingly, it had exactly the opposite effect of what I imagine was the intention.  The pettiness of the comment was just great enough to really help me let go of the discomfort and wonder around her unkind behavior towards me all these years.  I no longer care.  She has moved herself through this behavior into a place where I see her more fully than I have before, and I realize at a heart level that her thoughts, feelings and actions really and truly are about her and have nothing to do with me.  She doesn't know me.  Her dislike has been a gut reaction.  But for a long time I've helped her carry that by worrying and wondering what I could do to fix it.  That's no longer the case.  Now she can carry it all on her own.
         Whenever someone is unkind to us, it is about them and not about us.  Always.  But it can be hard for us to see this, difficult for us to hold, and sometimes it can feel impossible to put that into our hearts in such a way that we can feel compassion for the other rather than pain, hurt or anger.
          When Youngest was about three years old she and I were in a Trader Joe's grocery store, doing our daily shopping one day.  She was skipping and singing along beside the cart, very happy, full of life.  We were coming to the end of an aisle when a woman zoomed around the corner and almost hit us.  She snapped at Youngest, "Watch where you are going!  Stop playing around!"  I was stunned and upset.  But Youngest, my three year old Youngest, looked at the woman like she was a curiosity.  She stared at her with interest, but without any guilt or bad feeling, or shame.  As soon as the woman zoomed down the aisle, Youngest turned to me and said, "Poor woman!  She must be having a bad day!" and then she returned to skipping, singing, playing.  My heart filled with joy and pride to see that my three year old understood that the woman's bad behavior was about the woman.  It had nothing to do with Youngest.  I also felt some envy: I wished I could feel that same way when attacked.
          It is a worth while goal to learn to separate the behavior of someone else from ourselves.  It allows us then to choose our responses.  It enables us to find compassion, even, for those who may be having a hard time, a bad day.  It can encourage more honest interaction as we search for what is going on underneath the behavior, rather than just reacting out of our angst to what has been said.  It stops the escalation of anger and allow a person to respond instead to unkindness with empathy and care rather than revenge and retaliation.
         I am grateful for the moments in which I see the other as the other, someone who is complicated but whose behavior is truly about them.  I pray for more moments of such grace.