Do you believe people are doing the best they can?
The first time I heard that question was when I read Brene Brown’s book, Rising Strong: The Reckoning, The Rumble, The Revolution. I have a become a Brene Brown devotee over the past four years. Brown is a research professor at the University of Houston. Her first TED talk, “The Power of Vulnerability,” is one of the top five most viewed TED talks, with over 45 million views.
I wish I had discovered Brene in 2010 when that first TED talk went viral. Perhaps, I would be farther along in my growth as a leader, and frankly, as a compassionate human.
Rising Strong has become one of my favorite non-fiction books. It sits on my nightstand, complete with multi-colored sticky notes attached to almost every page, so that I can have ready access to it and all of the wisdom it holds. Since reading the book, I have honestly tried to assume that people are doing the best they can. Granted, I have also been doing a lot of work on myself in the past four years, which has included professional counseling and executive coaching. I’m working hard on listening with a curious and learning mindset instead of reacting in judgment.
For the most part, I think I’ve made significant improvement. But just when I’m feeling smug about my progress, something will happen that immediately sends me into self-righteous indignation. That happened again this past week when I saw a Facebook post from a former colleague (and friend). The post dealt with politics and religion, which under any circumstances can be a powder-keg. I have many fond memories of times spent working with the colleague, but I was offended and disappointed in the post that seemed uncharacteristic of the Christian woman I remembered. To my credit, I actually tried to approach the post with empathy and curiosity. I wondered why my colleague felt like she did. Had her life experiences led to her views?
When a mutual friend of ours challenged the post, it unleashed a litany of other comments from the person who posted the original comment, as well as from several of her “friends.” I was dismayed because the comments from my colleague and her friends directed at the person challenging the comment felt demeaning, shaming, vile, and even threatening. The colleague even made a derogatory remark about the time we had worked together. That’s when I went from curious empathy to fury in a nano-second.
So much for my progress. But then I did something that I rarely do. I got curious about my reaction. Why did I react with such emotional anger? Last year, as a member of my Action Inquiry Group, I completed an interview with a facilitator to “peel back the layers” that inform how I think and respond to situations. I have to admit – the interview was tough and forced me to “unpack” and reconcile some long-held feelings. As I began to examine my reaction to the colleague’s Facebook comments, I started to peel back and unpack those layers. What I discovered was that the unkind comments posted by my colleague mimicked my own behavior at various times in my past, and it made me sick and ashamed.
I had been that pious Christian when I was in junior high, high school, and college. The “Shelli” of my youth and young adulthood was more prone to shaming and judging others than practicing unconditional love, acceptance and understanding. I bought into discrediting others’ beliefs, while focusing more on the afterlife than being a kind person in the present. Even later in life when I was dismayed about the hypocrisy and struggled with the evangelical authoritarian interpretation of the Bible, I was too often complicit and culpable in perpetuating some of that ongoing Christian shame and judgment. I recall too many times that I stayed silent when friends made disparaging remarks about people of other races, ethnicities, sexual preferences, religions, etc. During my “unpacking” exercise, I realized that I had been that person that I despise in others now.
During a counseling session recently, the therapist described two options for dealing with situations and asked me which option best described how I react to difficult situations. Option 1 is to dig in and bully others into submission until they agree with my point of view. That was probably me in my youth. Option 2 is to avoid conflict and disengage. That is definitely me today. When anyone raises their voice to me, I completely shut down. As Brene says, it’s hard to be compassionate when someone is hurting us. The therapist pointed out that neither Option 1 or 2 are effective and rarely, if ever, result in the desired outcome.
When Brene and her team analyzed their research around the question, “Do you believe people are doing the best they can,” they found that people who answered “yes” to the question were extremely compassionate people who had set boundaries and were very clear about what’s okay and what’s not okay. They found that these people are compassionate because they don’t subject themselves to the abuse of other people. They answered “yes” to the question because they knew and respected their own boundaries. They also found that people who answered “no” had allowed themselves to be hurt by the people they thought of when asked the question.
Brene then asked them, “What if God told you that a person you know is doing the best s/he could?” And that, she said, yielded amazing insight. The most common response was:
“If God told me that the person was doing the best that s/he could, I would have to stop being angry and have to start grieving the loss…and I would have to love that person, but I would "have to have some boundaries about what’s ok…”
Brene’s research found that if we assume someone is doing the best they can, we drop anger, condemnation and opinion. And, we realize that it is our job to take care and responsibility for what works for us.
Following the discussion with the therapist about Option 1 and 2, he pointed out that I have 51% (the majority) control of how I react when I feel hurt by others. I can react angrily or with curiosity, empathy and compassion. And, I can set boundaries. I’m working on that. I’ve actually found that it is pretty freeing when I set those boundaries and stop worrying about other’s opinions.
Ironically as I was contemplating all of these thoughts this week, my daughter sent me a link to a blog with these words:
Words can make you sick. And heavy. And dark.
Words can make you light. And radiant. And energized.
As I said earlier, so much of becoming more self-aware and working on myself takes a lot of internal bandwidth. As Brene said, “The tired I feel from doing this kind of exploration is different than the tired I feel from being pissed off and resentful all of the time.”
With my 51% control, I choose light, radiance and positive energy. I choose to surround myself with people who question the status quo, are intellectual and practice empathy and compassion. I choose to not be encumbered by hate and negativity and to continue to search for moments of awe.