Self-defence? Or self-sabotage?

Caring what people think can sometimes slip into thinking we know. And deciding what that ‘means’…

You’re about to vacuum the living room. It’s the same room, and the same vacuum, and you’ve done exactly the same thing a million times before. Does the fact you still have to press start for the vacuum to go, mean you feel angry with the vacuum? Let down by the vacuum? Does it make you think surely the vacuum should have read your mind by now?

What if the difference isn’t about sentience, but expectations?

In a recent coaching group, one of my clients shared a breakthrough. They’d had to repeat the same information to the same people over and over again. For the first time, they didn’t feel anxious or angry. They Said The Thing, over and over, as many times as it took until the thing had been done.

‘But this time I didn’t make it mean anything about me. Before, it would have been about how upset they were making me feel, how much of my time they were wasting.’

This time, they’d sat with the repetition, the lack of control over what was happening and how long it would take. They said what needed to be said over and over again without taking it personally.

‘The vacuum really helped,’ they said.

When we stop mind-reading, we start noticing (and even accepting) people as they are

It may not sound flattering – or appropriate – to compare every human being we ever interact with – from a beloved partner or best friend to a stranger at the end of the call centre line – to a vacuum cleaner. But this is not about dehumanising, or believing people are devices for our convenience. If anything, it leads to spotting when we might have done that in the past by accident and aren’t going to anymore.

When we stop defending ourselves against having our time disrespected, when we stop believing we know the thoughts behind the behaviour of others… in other words, when we stop mind-reading… we start noticing (and even accepting) people as they really are.

Which, often, is flawed, busy, stressed, forgetful, juggling too many thoughts about too many other things to fully focus on this moment; doing their best against whatever obstacles are in their day. Just as the vacuum is limited by lack of sentience, every human being we come across is limited by lack of spoons. So whatever we think they’re thinking, they’re likely so low on energy and disc-space as to be thinking much less than we think they are.

Taking the ‘what does this say about me’ out of ‘what needs to happen’

Defending ourselves against apparent sleights can mean we create situations we’re avoiding. Taking the ‘what does this say about me’ out of the ‘what needs to happen’ gets things done faster, better, gentler and more authentically.

The politest phrasing of Hanlon’s Razor, which I first heard from my uncle many years ago, is ‘never attribute to malice what is just as adequately explained by incompetence.’ The busier, more stressful life is, the less any action is the result of active intention or choice:

• Has a friend been in touch less? We could be tempted to ‘mean’ they don’t like us anymore, or are angry about a sleight we can spend time imagining. We can stop texting, take the perceived hint, and join forces in creating distance. But is that what you want, or what you fear? What if they don’t know more connection is welcome? What if you Say The Thing that you’re thinking of them?
• Had a piece of writing rejected, maybe several times? We could be tempted to decide this ‘means’ the story doesn’t work, or we’re a bad writer, that the universe wants us to stop. What if instead of that false certainty, we change the focus to getting the story critiqued, or deciding we care more about our writing arc than the specific story and investing our energy in that?

Whatever example we’re dealing with, it’s all about asking ourselves if it’s possible to accept uncertainty rather than leap for false certainty around what this ‘means’.

So that’s what I learn from my working relationship with my vacuum cleaner. This isn’t someone else’s sentience that makes the difference. It’s our own expectations.

Next time I’m tempted by self-defensive-come-self-sabotaging responses, I’ll ask myself these questions first:

• From the other side, is this about me or about something else?

• Is this triggering a sense that something is happening again, rather than this being an individual situation or moment?

• How could I choose to see it instead?