12 AWP Brooklyn Paper • www.BrooklynPaper.com • (718) 260-2500 July 26–August 1, 2019
Struggling to relate to others
There is a biblical saying.
“Do unto others as
you would have done
unto you.”
It sounds good. In theory,
it should work, to treat others
how you would want to
be treated. But I don’t think it
usually does. Why? Because
even though on a base level,
as humans, we have a ton in
common, we are all unique
and we want and require different
treatment.
Therein lies the rub of human
interaction. I might need
a hug when things get rough,
while someone else may need
to be left alone. I might need
to talk deep into the night,
and someone else…well,
someone else might want to
put in headphones and shut
out the world.
This is the dilemma of relationships.
What can we realistically
be expected to do
for others when every individual
person might need something
slightly different, when
we absolutely cannot assume
that they need the exact things
we need?
In recent years, I have
amended the saying to the
seemingly more external focused,
“do unto others as they
would have done unto them…”
In other words, pay attention
to what others might want, and
try to give it to them.
But is that reasonable to
expect, that we can actually
figure out what other people
need and give it to them? We
can go a lot further toward figuring
what to do with other
people when they have actually
done the work to figure
it, and they ask for what they
need, or want, when they are
direct and aware of exactly
what they require from others.
But, let’s face it, is that
even possible?
Yikes. This is why relationships
require fearlessness. It’s
brave to even contemplate that
you could please another human,
that you could have some
role in their happiness, some
part to play in their well-being.
Often it can feel like the opposite,
that we hurt those closest
to us with our own neediness
and expectations and our failure
to figure what they need
when they need it.
One has to be a sleuth, and
a spy. One has to listen closely
and read between the lines.
People are complicated and
confused. Even those who
dedicate their lives to learning
how to help others, the besttrained
therapists and Masters
of Psychology and Psychiatry…
well, even they do not
know how to “fix” the psyche,
how to frame things for people
so that they slap themselves upside
the head and say, “Thank
you! Now I’m cured!”
There is no “cure,” I don’t
think; no fast pill or plan that
can so quickly and easily be
the solution to the problems
that plague a person. We cannot
count on others or a single
other to “save” us. But
we can close our eyes and
drum, or draw or dance, and
we can make our way through
the thick outer layers of “reason”
that have built a crust
around our hearts, and we
can attempt to feel, to find
that place of inner knowing
that resembles something like
truth, and maybe then we can
figure how to relate to others.
Maybe then we can ask
of them what’s reasonable or
maybe slightly possible to give
to us so that we might feel
connected.
I write all this and then I
take a break. I go on Facebook
and I see lots of photo
of smiling people, of couples
and groups of friends and families
standing arm in arm. And
then I wonder… maybe it’s
just me, sitting here, that finds
this whole “connecting” thing
hard, who sits and mulls it over
and feels slightly cowed by the
whole darn process of giving
and receiving love. Maybe
it’s easier for some people,
and that old adage works for
them, cause they all want the
same thing.
I have no statistics to back
up my suppositions either way.
I don’t know for sure that every
individual struggles with
their attempts to relate to others,
to be supportive or to get
supported. But anecdotal evidence
belies the blanket attempts
we make on social media
to pretend everything is
hunky dory and that it’s easy
to create beautiful meaningful
connections.
I hear from enough people
offline to know that it’s
a struggle to maintain positive
connections for most humans.
But I also know that
the struggle is worthwhile,
that even through the bitter
moments, and the tears,
the pleasure we can give one
another sometimes, on rare
occasions maybe, makes it
worth a try.
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Fearless
Living
By Stephanie Thompson
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