Mirrors in Love

This is an excerpt from the weekly News-Loveletter. If you would like it sent to your inbox directly (with all the other juicy bits, including a mini joy practice), you can add yourself to my mailing list here.

Pointing the finger.

In the midst of scrubbing the picnic table, I paused and asked Seda, “Did you tell our dinner guests last night about the books you’re writing?” Seda shook her head. “Why not?” I wondered aloud.

“They didn’t ask,” she said.

I sighed audibly as she rose to take Leo for a walk. What a silly answer, I thought. As if one has to be asked about things specifically to share them. And that wasn’t the worst of it. In my assessment, Seda had not only missed sharing the things that light her up most; she had instead shared the things she felt least in her power about. The “bad” news instead of the “good.”

How could this happen? Why weren’t our dinner guests granted the view of Seda that I was familiar with? Why couldn’t she have decided for herself what she wanted to share then taken the helm in the conversation? (Yes, I was aware that all of these musings were not in my lane. :)

And then it hit me. I, myself, have often not felt comfortable in crowds of two or more. Over-stimulated. Read: Not at the helm. I’ve often felt annoyed at parties because I wound up talking about things I didn’t really care about, then wanted to bolt at every turn. Even with people I loved, topics often turned towards the “bad” news and just didn’t feel good. Historically, I’ve picked up my paddle and gone with the flow. (Side-note: this entire paragraph was written first in present tense. I’ve gone back and rewritten it in past tense, as I no longer wish this behavior to define my experience.)

I considered this conundrum while scrubbing. I’ll cut to the chase and share what I came up with. In social situations, we are often uncertain of our roles and can feel afraid of how folks will respond to us. Belonging is a huge need, a survival need, and especially if we experienced it as not met when tiny, we move into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn mode in large groups. Our brain may be consumed with negativity bias as we moan and groan in chorus.

“Hey,” said Seda, unclipping Leo’s leash as she returned from her walk. “Thanks for the mirror.” She told me that my observation had been prickly and painful at first, but that she’d really appreciated the opportunity to reflect and become more aware.

I told her that I felt grateful to discover that I had this problem, too. I had, while scrubbing, come up with a list of questions that I was interested in asking folks and sharing about at the next gathering we’d planned. I wanted to know: What obstacles have you overcome lately? What is your ideal schedule in the summer? (I love tips to enjoy the season.) How are you finding ways to touch your “ideal” vision of summer considering current constraints (job, etc.)? What work are you passionate about?

“Oh, I like those questions,” said Seda. We agreed that we would no longer be responders in group conversation, but instead would actively co-create something we found meaningful. And we decided to share our process with you. Happily, we will have the opportunity to practice with our local Joy Collective at an in-person gathering soon!

Does this conversation resonate for you? What questions do you ask others and what do you like to share when you attend a gathering? Are you as joyful as you’d like to be in the company of a group?