In my previous post, I wrote about Pema Chodron’s brilliant response to a wildly inappropriate question that made the rest of the audience squirm.
But what if the question is mundane and you’re the one squirming?
Disgraceful questions. We all have them. They’re completely routine to everyone else, but they press on our most tender spots. Not answering feels like an evasion and a lie. Answering bears a truth we fear hurts or disgraces us.
It’s “How are you?” when you’re struggling with a chronic illness your friends and family don’t really understand. “How’s business?” if you’re a solopreneur doing everything you can to find clients and feeling like a failure. “How is X?” when your relationship is crumbling and no one really knows how bad it is behind closed doors.
What’s your disgraceful question? How do you deal with it skillfully?
In my case, I’m managing life with a brain injury along with recent unpleasantries of autoimmune thyroid illness and adrenal fatigue syndrome. Needless to say, “How are you?” ranked number one for me.
In search of a skillful answer I made space for all the ways it makes me squirm. I did this when my mind and emotions were reasonably calm since my clarity “on the spot” had been something near zero.
Well no wonder! My inner narrative, a deluge of emotions and stories, quickly flooded any semblance of a spacious mind.
Keeping my seat, returning to my breath again and again, I let the story lines wash over me. No matter how “true” they felt, I didn’t grab on. I didn’t hold the line. I let them keep coming. Let them keep going. When they finally dissipated, I felt spent, but I also had a feeling of being at rest. I looked at my mind and found spaciousness.
Now, when people ask “How are you?” I smile and say “I’m hanging in there.” I have enough lightness in my voice to move on to other subjects and enough truth for further inquiry.
I’m in search of a more elegant phrase, but results with this one have been fairly astonishing. A few people pass right over it, but mostly what I’m discovering is a lot of us are “hanging in there.” I’m entering into deep, rich conversations as the result of that simple response.
I’m usually uncomfortable talking about my health and my needs because it makes the conversation all about me. Magically, the conversation has now become about them, too. About us.
I’ve found myself in multi-layered discussions about the experience of aging as a single woman. Had a conversation with a dear Buddhist friend regarding emotional challenges of being a vegetarian who suddenly needs to eat meat for healing. A favorite waitress in a favorite cafe told me she was brokenhearted after putting her cat sleep three days before, then spoke of her father who died three years earlier. And on and on.
We’re talking about dreams and hopes and celebrations and losses. I’m touched and grateful for the intimacy. For the chance to listen and offer kindness. For the gift of receiving it.
Maybe the phrase “I’m hanging in there” lays out some unexpected welcome mat for genuine engagement. I think the real magic is in the mindfulness. I only know I’ve exchanged more love, kindness and compassion since I stopped squirming over the question.
What’s you’re disgraceful question? Can you find a skillful answer?
Mahala how happy I am to have found your site!
I loved Pema’s mindfulness and skillful wisdom in responding to immense inappropriateness.
Somehow this follow-up feels even more useful as a tool for my box.
Little inappropriatenesses litter the path some days and I love the idea of ‘hanging in there’ as a welcome mat and skillful response all in one.
Thank you.
I agree with you–I suspect that it’s the mindfulness (as evidenced by the lightness in your voice) rather than the specific words … that said, “I’m hanging in there” is a very effective way of saying, “I’m human!”
I had a colleague who would regularly reply to the question “How are you?” with “I’m blessed.” At first it really bugged me, which says more about me than it does about him. Finally I realized that it was both a regional thing (he was a Southerner, I’m a Westerner) and a religious thing (he was African Methodist Episcopal, I was Quaker), and just rolled with it. But I have to say, “I’m hanging in there” works better for me.
Right now my trigger-y questions are all about the little things I do that bring me pleasure–knitting, baking, making bento for my family, sewing . . . it’s so deflating to have someone say (as they eat a second or third homemade Oreo, or look at a pair of hand-knitted baby socks at a shower), “I just don’t have the time to do things like this–I’m so busy! You must have a lot of time on your hands. Are you trying to be the new Martha Stewart, or what?” I never know quite what to say–but I feel diminished and angry at the same time.
Melynda´s last blog ..Project Project Gutenberg: The Devil’s Paw
Twitter: melyndahuskey
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful story. Gave me goosebumps.
Agreeing w/ Jean – “I’m hanging in there” is like saying “I’m human.”
And that allows other people to feel safe to be human, as well. Which is exactly when engagement can begin.
Victoria Brouhard´s last blog ..Hedgehogs, Dancers and What Ifs
Thank you so much for this. A good friend passed away last year. I visited and sat with him in the weeks before he passed. Though he was forgiving of my sometimes feeble attempts at conversation, he at times was irritated with me. Once I walked into his room which was in his home and beautiful, though he was confined to his bed I asked ‘What’s going on?’ he looked at me like I was crazy and said ‘not too much’ not smiling. So we had a conversation albeit brief regarding our conversations and my lack of skill as we both dealt with his situation. I learned much from Dave, about dignity, humor and about death, and I hope that I also learned a bit about skillful conversation.
Thanks, I really enjoyed this post. Pema Chodron talks about shenpa (sp?) swelling up in situations like this. For years my most shenpa-inducing question was, “What do you do?” People usually meant, “What is your job?” which was a source of shame for me. I’m fixing that area of my life now though. Also, I found it helpful to answer with all the non-job wonderful things I do. Some people found my answers confusing, but others were refreshed by the change. I don’t know. It’s hard to get rid of shenpa, but feels good to at least watch it happening.
@Melynda I’ve had to come up with some answers of my own for doing what friends and family consider unconventional. The first response I had reeked of “I’m better, more disciplined, more something than you” which made me feel good and them feel put out, which created ughhh and shame for me. That wasn’t my intention but the need to stop feeling the pressure of conformity, definitely fueled the response.
Once I realized what was really being asked, why do you do all these things that don’t fit the normal pattern of being a wife, mother, career woman, yadda, yadda, yadda… my response to questions now is , it’s important to use my time. This response did two things for me, it helped me remember I was making choices which fit for me and my goals. It also inevitably led into a conversation of what’s important to each of us and surprisingly what choices we really are making and whether or not they fit with our values and morals.
@Mahala – Thank you for sharing your skillful answer.
lovely. i have a friend with chronic fatigue, and I know the question of how she’s doing poses challenges for her too. I’m so inspired by both of your courage and commitment to this practice. peace.
susan´s last blog ..Take My Hand
I say “I’m hanging in there” as well or sometimes ” managing”. But some people will ask further and say “why just managing?” or “not great?” There’s the stumbling block for me. It leaves way too much room for personal stuff which I don’t like to share that often or to just anyone. When I say “I’m hanging in there” I try to say it fast and switch the conversation to something else. Sometimes I don’t and then the other person will ask further questions. I don’t like to be asked “how are you” that much because I feel like I am not being honest half the time.
Mahala, this is so lovely . . . I’m empty of words. Just want to say, thank you.
Hiro Boga´s last blog ..The Things That Scare You
This is a beautiful post, Mahala. Thanks for sharing it with us. I’m going through some major life transitions right now and am having difficulty with lots of the routine questions. My tendency is to spill it all, but I know that’s not always appropriate and often doesn’t serve me or the asker. When I choose not to tell all, I can get stuck feeling dishonest, aloof, or awkward. I like your “hanging in there” response with the light voice. It lets people know there’s stuff churning and that you’re right there in the midst of it with the spaciousness to hold it. Thank you.
Twitter: LesRinchen
I’m honestly not sure what it is that bothers me the most. Sometimes I do not know how to answer someone who asks how are you? Especially if I’m just not feeling well that day. Hanging in there is definitely one that I use. Of course if its a closer friend I may go into more detail. Living as an authentic human being in a world that is operating on a very fast superficial level has presented me with a challenge in life. I try myself , to slow down and take time out of my life to be there for people who are hurting. I have been this way most of my life. Life has taught me this thru my own hardships. We all have things in our life that is hard and pushes us to go deeper. I try to use these things to go deeper. Sometimes I do okay. Sometimes its harder. I just keep trying. Sometimes it just means letting go. Stepping back and relizing no matter what its okay. Because we are all human beings, we all have suffering. Funny thing is we’re all dealing with so much of the same internal struggles. I am trying to cultivate within myself a more gentle path with myself. Cutting myself some slack. Not worrying what others may think of me, but being okay with myself.Some days I do better than others. Thanks for writting this question. It made me sit down and think about it more than usual. Thanks for listening. Peace to all.
Pema Chodron’s response cut through rather than taking on. I have begun to appreciate that skillful speech evolves from skillful listening, which often results in fewer words. . .very difficult! Your engagement and grace shine through and encourage me.
What a beautiful post. This is something I’ve been spinning my wheels over for a while…
I think my disgraceful question is along the lines of “what do you do for a living?” I’m still in the closet, so to speak, to most people about my real work. Going to reread your post and ruminate on this a little more. Thanks for this.
Shannon Bowman´s last blog ..Hey Baby, What’s Your Sign?
Hi Mahala,
Oh my, that really resonated with me. “Are you dating?” is mine. I’ve been looking for a skillful answer to that one because that trips me up every time. It’s really touching to hear how your welcome mat really opens the door for meaningful connections with people. I’ll have to do some thinking about what my skillful response would be.
Greetings Mahala,
I really enjoyed this post – it left me with goosebumps during and after reading it. I love honest answers to difficult questions that invite others to share part of themselves too. Having mindful and truthful responses to awkward questions creates an opportunity for intimacy to exist where a normal, “I’m fine thanks” which kind of ends the discussion.
My difficult question at the moment is, “What work are you doing now?” It makes me squirm as the work I am doing part time is very far from what I would prefer to be doing.
My perfect answer would just be to be honest. “I’m doing cleaning at the local school.” There is a lot of dignity in that. Besides I know this is not forever, it is just for now.
Thank you for a great post!
Much love
xxx
Marilyn´s last blog ..It’s Friday, it’s FUN and it’s tasty!
Ah… the dreaded questions. What a fresh way to think about them!
I almost always pause before answering, especially the routine, “How are you?” That too opens up connection.
And sometimes I say, “I don’t know. Do you?”
Love your writing.
Jennifer Louden´s last blog ..Delicious Aliveness Mini-Retreat
I am so grateful for all your comments. Clearly I need to work out a better? faster? system for responding in the future. But please do know how much I appreciate and look forward to your responses.
Lindsay ~ I’m happy to meet you, too. How wonderful if I’ve given you something useful for your tool box. I love your words “Little inappropriatenesses litter the path some days.” I’m going to start seeing how many things I get worked up over are only little bits of litter that simply need to be picked up and thrown away.
Jean S ~ re …effective way of saying,”I’m human.” Maybe we need t-shirts with that printed on them?
Melynda ~ Not long after you posted this, one of my disability drivers answered “I’m blessed,” when I asked her “how are you?” This is a woman who I suspect had a rough upbringing. I think under all that armor there’s a heart of gold and real kindness, but her verbal expression is always along the line of anger, impatience, and complaint. Thanks to your comment, I made a leap into a conversation with her. Yes, she thought people were too lazy, and complained too much even thought they had it so good. But I also got a glimpse of how fiercely (!) compassionate she was for people who are suffering especially hard times. Thanks to you, there was a little human breakthrough in there.
The life you are living, your values and your creative expression remind me of a term I read somewhere long ago. A handmade life. It a richly beautiful way to live and I admire you for it. Don’t let anyone rain on your parade with their snide remarks! I think @LaShaye is right, many don’t understand unconventional lives. But I also think some people may be jealous. How do you choose to work with that?
Victoria ~ I appreciate your goosebumps. After my Pema Chodron post was so well received, I almost ditched on this follow-up post. How does one top Pema Chodron? But of course, it’s not about topping or even measuring up to her wisdom. It’s about engaging. Being human. Helping one another.
Mike A ~ Your story about your time with your friend Dave is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I really do believe if we will take the time with each other, we’ll get through the awkward stages. The firmly held intention of loving-kindness will see us through. I know it doesn’t always work out that way. But it sounds like you and Dave found that meeting space. I’m sure it was a great gift, not just to you, but to him, too.
Vanessa ~ It never ceases to amaze me how often people ask “What do you do?” Shouldn’t the question be “What do you love?”
shenpa, yes. “Shenpa is the urge, the hook, that triggers our habitual tendency to close down. We get hooked in that moment of tightening when we reach for relief. To get unhooked we begin by recognizing that moment of unease and learn to relax in that moment.” from http://www.shambhalasun.com
LaShaye What courage (!) to write about your initial “I’m better than you,” response. I think it’s a pitfall we all have to watch for, especially those of us who are making conscious (possibly unconventional) decisions about how we live our lives, work with our thoughts, and so on.
To say “This is the choice I am making, this is what’s important to me,” is a very powerful statement.
Susan ~ Thank you so much for your kind words. If you think your friend with chronic fatigue will find any support here, please extend my invitation to her to visit Luminous Heart. Peace to you.
Stephanie ~ Many of the problems you write about were things I struggled with, too. That’s why I had to sit and just Be with all my thoughts and churnings as I described in the post. That’s what it took to see, have loving-kindness for, and unhook from my mental -emotional avalanche. That, in turn, led to more skill in the moment.
Hiro ~ Thank you for your kind words. You know I’m a great admirer of your writings as well.
This is as much as I can do for now. I’ll reply to the rest of you, soon I hope.
Twitter: LuminousHeart
Finally getting back to thank the rest of you for taking time to comment. Our connection is so precious.
Leslie ~ I tend to spill my thoughts out, too. (Evidence this blog, ha!) But that’s a slippery slope as you have expressed. Discomfort all around is not fun.
I look forward to seeing where your transitions are taking you.
Debbie ~ Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I’m glad you are cultivating a more gentle path with yourself. I truly believe the more you can do that, the more your outer world will reflect gentleness as well.
Michael ~ “I have begun to appreciate that skillful speech evolves from skillful listening, which often results in fewer words.” So true! I’m afraid that’s something I’m not good at. But it’s certainly something for me to aspire to.
Thank you for your kind words.
Shannon ~ “What do you do for a living?” Definitely one of the hard ones. But I had an amazing experience with that once. Can’t remember the gathering, very high powered business suit type people. And my answer, filled with delight because I loved my job was “I teach preschool!” Someone immediately responded glowingly “You must have the patience of a saint!” and others murmured approvingly. It was only later that I realized maybe people wouldn’t have been impressed by that. So yes, hard not to fit the mould. But enthusiasm may get you through. Good luck!
Becky ~ I have to say one of the pleasures of being in my 50′s is nobody ever asks me that question anymore! I have to admit all of my suggestions in my mind are either dramatic or snarky. Not skillful at all. Let me know when you figure it out.
Marilyn ~ I can imagine that’s hard. Maybe there is some way you can say I’m cleaning at the local school while I’m looking for [this opportunity.] I think you can hold that dignity, and your answer again may make room for larger conversations.
Jennifer ~ You are exactly the one who could pull off “How are you?” “I don’t know, do you?” If I tried I would sound incredibly snide instead of wonderfully playful.
Twitter: LuminousHeart