In the last several days, I have been party to rather hyped-up and strongly-stated opinions about innocuous topics: brands of foods, the way people behave at a craft show, and—two that I am particularly guilty of—how people drive their vehicle and my frustration that the only lanes open in the grocery store are self-checkout!
What dawned on me as I pondered this need to “major in the minors,” as a throwback saying puts it, is that this stating of opinion as if Chicken Little herself was clucking it is merely a need to assert standards.
My standards, the rest be damned!
From how people grieve, to political affiliation, to where they shop, standards have become enmeshed with identity, and in order to feel something—what it is I haven’t quite figured out yet—we assert our standards the same way some people flaunt tennis shoes or an expensive auto. The only difference is, the tennis shoes and car are nice to have around because they don’t say anything (and when an Audi or GTI speaks, well, that is a sweet and welcoming sound!).
What startled me the most as I pondered this movement-to-unequivocally assert—mincing no words—is that when I do this, and if I continue to do this, I will simply become old and crotchety.
How’s that for an identity! Egads!
If most of what folks are positing with such dour tone-of-voice vehemence (in boldly ungracious consideration, I might add, of those around them who they know to be polar opposites) actually mattered, it might be different.
The problem is, we make it matter—to the point that anyone not living exactly as we do are harming the earth, society or culture, or not caring about it one whit (and not caring, we say, is the same as overt harming).
The reality check is this: do we really think we are going to influence anyone to change to our standard by rudely and passively-aggressively stating our preferences within, or outside of, their earshot? What do we hope to gain other than to shame them and make them feel, or appear, small?
Over time, the self-promotional verbal complaints or statements we use to justify the standards that manifest our identity, age us because they inhibit the maturating process of sincerely curious dialogue and warm compassion which arises through the consideration of context, unthreatened by where other people are coming from.
Maybe those we’ve deemed less-than in contrast to our revered standards do care! Maybe they are producing good in the world that we are not privy to? Is it negated if it isn’t our version, our way?
In order to shed this old blanket of haughtiness going forward, I am thinking it would benefit me to practice using a filter on my heart, mind and mouth that considers whether what I am about to hand-wring over is really of any consequence, and then ask myself why I am desiring to get so worked about it in the first place.
And then I’m going to find something--anything--to either do something about without yammering, or to simply be without yammering.
Sort of like a young child, to whom the world is not an enemy to be conquered.
Copyright Barb Harwood
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