Easier Said Than Done
I noticed this at the time (but don't think I posted it) and it's just come back up, so I am posting it here. One of my favorite advice columnists responded to someone suggesting that what she had advised was easier said than done with the following:
Everything, everything, everything I advise is easier said than done. Figuring out how to handle people is hard. Figuring out how much honesty is appropriate is hard. Figuring how much withheld information becomes dishonest is hard. Figuring out whom we can and can't trust is hard. Figuring out how to trust ourselves is hard. Figuring out how much help we need, have a right to ask for and can advisably accept is hard. Finding ways to leave painful things behind us is hard. Finding words at a tense moment that make things better instead of worse is hard. Accepting what we'll never have, whom we'll never be, what we'll never be given, what we can't expect, is hard. Admitting when we're at fault is hard. Accepting when we're not at fault but will suffer anyway is hard.
It's not about being unruffled. It's about retraining ourselves to use approaches to people that are more productive than the broken, maddening, ineffective, self-destructive old ones. It's about figuring out what the limits are of what we'll take from people, and enforcing them in ways that keep our self-respect and sense of goodwill--and, ideally, our relationships--intact.
It's stuff we can take decades to get right, if then, and bandy about in overlong online sessions every Friday since the Clinton administration, and still not solve or fully agree on.
Doesn't mean it's not worth trying.
Everything, everything, everything I advise is easier said than done. Figuring out how to handle people is hard. Figuring out how much honesty is appropriate is hard. Figuring how much withheld information becomes dishonest is hard. Figuring out whom we can and can't trust is hard. Figuring out how to trust ourselves is hard. Figuring out how much help we need, have a right to ask for and can advisably accept is hard. Finding ways to leave painful things behind us is hard. Finding words at a tense moment that make things better instead of worse is hard. Accepting what we'll never have, whom we'll never be, what we'll never be given, what we can't expect, is hard. Admitting when we're at fault is hard. Accepting when we're not at fault but will suffer anyway is hard.
It's not about being unruffled. It's about retraining ourselves to use approaches to people that are more productive than the broken, maddening, ineffective, self-destructive old ones. It's about figuring out what the limits are of what we'll take from people, and enforcing them in ways that keep our self-respect and sense of goodwill--and, ideally, our relationships--intact.
It's stuff we can take decades to get right, if then, and bandy about in overlong online sessions every Friday since the Clinton administration, and still not solve or fully agree on.
Doesn't mean it's not worth trying.