Thursday, October 18, 2007

I am helping a friend sort out a confusing, perplexing situation with a fellow in her life. It's the same-old, same-old. Why does someone pursue us only to duck out at the last minute and leave us hanging? Why go through the trouble of asking for a phone number one is never going to use? Any time that a behavior seems to be in conflict with the perceptions we have about the situation, we begin to question, "Why?"

Unfortunately, most of us begin that process of figuring out why someone behaved a certain way by turning the scope on ourselves first. "What did I do wrong?" Women especially are prone to immediately assume the responsibility (whether willingly/happily or not) for being the stimulus behind that behavior. "Was I too much? Not enough?" But, of course, we know that's rarely the case. We know it well enough to tell our friends that when THEY are going through it, but often we don't remember it so well when we are comforting and nurturing our own egos.

But the point I want to make really has to do with acknowledging multiple motivations. Rarely is a decision or a behavior based on one single motivation or needs, but rather a complex web of competing needs and emotions (some rational and some not so rational).

The overly-simplistic illustration of this was on an episode of "Sex and the City" where Miranda was wondering why a fellow didn't call. Later, she thinks she has it figured out after hearing about the "He's just not that into you" theory. Her date declines an invitation to "come up for a drink" and she decides to let him off the hook by telling him it's okay, it's okay if he's not into her. But the problem was simply that dinner didn't sit well with him and he needed a bathroom fast (and of course didn't want it to be hers). So her first two responses would have been, "Why doesn't he like me?" and "It's okay if you don't like me." It never occurred to her that there was a much simpler reason that had nothing to do with her, or that his motivation to go was competing with his motivation to stay (and winning, for obvious reasons). It's impossible for us to know all those motivations and how they weigh into the equation.

The more complex and probably more common multiplicity of motivations would manifest in more subtle ways and often leave us mystfied. Longing for love and affiliation, sex and romance, company and compassion compete with a variety of different kinds and levels of fear. We push, we pull. We pull, we push. We can't stand the heat, but we can't pry ourselves out of the kitchen.

Here's another example of how we misinterpret the words and actions of others: I've heard this story many times in many contexts and it always reminds me not to judge people's motivations and behaviors.

Once a man is sitting on a subway and there are several children going ape around him. They're jumping in and out of the aisles, running into the legs of passengers, yelling loudly and being generally out of control. Their apparent father is staring blankly out the window and paying no attention to his sons' behavior or the growing agitation of those around him. Finally, one of the passengers speaks up rather sharply, "Can't you control your children? What is your problem? Do you just not care how they turn out? What kind of father are you?"

And so the father turned to his critics and softly apologized, "I'm so sorry, I'm not really sure what to do. Their mother just died in the hospital this morning and we're going home now to an empty house and I'm just not sure how I'm going to handle them and everything else. I'm really sorry that they bothered you."

Of course, that knowledge changes everything, doesn't it? Suddenly we can forgive his shortcomings as a father and look the other way, or interact with the children in a more compassionate manner than just glaring at them over our newspapers.

We don't know what lurks in the hearts and minds of our fellow humans. We can't begin to understand another person's motivations, especially when we're not too terribly clear on our own. We are all often motivated by longing in one direction and fear in another direction. Fear often wins when longing should, and vice versa (such as when people commit unspeakable acts upon each other with no apparent fear of reprisal or concern for harm done). If we can approach every human interaction (even those which disappoint and hurt us) with compassion and forgiveness, and a certain blind faith regarding each person's attempts to DO THE BEST THEY CAN, then the disappointments we heap upon each other might get just a little easier to bear. If the discomforts of another person's behavior cause us pain in a manner that becomes a pattern, we have to stop and question our own motivation for continuing to subject ourselves to it. What motivates a person to choose pain and loneliness every day?

What motivates us? Everything. Everything that happens to us (or has ever happened to us) motivates our behaviors. By making the arena for interactions with each other as safe and forgiving as possible, we coax each other out of our shells and into the very scary and very fun game of love. And I'm not just talking about romantic/sexual love or love of family and friends. I'm talking about the love that binds humanity and makes it possible for us to share space and resources ... love of fellow human. Sometimes, that's the hardest kind.

Love,
Sophie

SophieSeriously ...at... gmail dot com