Turn the Heater On If You’re Cold
Many years ago, I remember talking with my sister about how numb we were growing up. Because there were so many of us kids, we learned to tolerate any situation, any temperature, without worrying about how we were feeling. She was going through therapy, as was I, and at one point in the conversation, she turned to me and exclaimed, “Elissa, I realized I had never used the heater in my car! I just got in and drove, not thinking about what I needed or what I wanted! There was this knob, and I could turn it when it got cold!” I laughed, because I was that way for years. I still have to struggle, though, to state what I want or how I feel. It seems more natural to hint to others. It’s something I’m working on.
So, I laughed when I read this from Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening the other morning.
Susan and I were sitting in an ice cream parlor when the two couples next to us began to get loud. They were just having a good time, but I was feeling a bit inward and intruded on. I felt the need to go. I leaned over to Susan and asked if she wanted to leave. She, in her contentment, said, “No, I’m happy here.” Then seeing consternation on my face, she asked, “Do you want to go?”
In that simple moment in a booth in an ice cream parlor, I realized that for much of my forty-nine years, I have tried to take care of my needs by indirectly projecting them on those around me and then acting as if I am taking care of the other person. As the ice cream was melting, I understood myself. I laughed, shook my head, felt embarrassed, then sighed deeply, and importantly voiced the obvious, “Yes, I’d like to leave.”
This indirect way of trying to get what I need by planting my feelings as needs to be attended to in those around me has been a way to hide my vulnerability, while still managing to appear as a kind and other-centered person. I realize I am not alone in this malady. It is often so subtle and so clase to our healthy way of relating to others that we seldom realize the manipulation and deceit involved.
Of course, this indirectness lives in us because somewhere along the way, we become convinced, often with good harsh reason, that to voice directly what we need is asking to be hurt. Yet I know of no other way to reverse this hiding of who we are than to catch ourselves humbly in each instance and to rise out of our private cave, admitting the indirectness and saying what we feel and what we need as soon as possible.
Still, the energy wasted in trying to quietly get others to behave in ways that will satisfy our needs remains a major source of anxiety and alienation. Rather than prevent us from being hurt, indirectness and dishonesty only heighten our isolation from what it means to be alive.
Underneath it all is the fundamental truth that as trees have leaves that are nicked and eaten, human beings have feelings that are just as worn by the act of living. We have a right to these. They are evidence of our human seasons.
Another funny story. I read once where we parents do this unconsciously. Let’s say, in the evening, when the table needs to be set, we might say, as we’re setting the table, “Wow, this is a huge pain to set the table, when I’m trying to finish cooking the meal, too!” In other words, we’re hoping to shame our family into helping us, rather than simply asking, “Will you set the table for me?”
Was there a recent time where you tried to make others do something you wanted them to do, without directly asking them? And if so, why didn’t you state it directly? Were you fearful of something?
I’m going to try to live directly today. Wanna join me?
[Post image: AC fan by lampposted on stock.xchng]
Renae C
OUCH!
Elissa
🙂
Allison
wow, great quote! I’m going to be aware of this for awhile, I hope I find I’m direct! but being raised in a family of secret code I bet I’m better at silent messages than I give myself credit for…
and don’t you find it hard to wait for people (your kids) to ask directly? how easy is it to perceive a need/want and jump in and “save the day” patting myself on the back for being so compassionate and sensitive to others’ needs, when really it is just enabling.
interesting!
Elissa
You, too? My maiden name is Lien. When I was dating my now-husband, he used to call me Read-In Lien. LOL.