40 Days of Compassion

Two very different friends confided very different troubles to me today.  Both wanted to vent.  Both came for sympathy and understanding.  One wanted advice.  The other claimed to want advice but mostly wanted affirmation, I suspect.  And both were a little stuck in their troubles–one with her boyfriend and the other with his boss.  Stuck in fear at expressing the depths of their frustration and desires.  Afraid of coming on too strong and angering  important, powerful people in their lives.  Unfortunately, their concerns were legitimate.  I tried giving very specific, insightful, individual advice, but I know enough about answers to know that I didn’t have any.  I got frustrated–frustrated at their problems, frustrated at their miscreant partners, and frustrated at them.  You see, there was a little unacknowledged, self-inflicted damage and weakness going around Los Angeles today.

I was frustrated with myself too for not having the patience, skill, or time to solve their problems either.  It’s not my job, but it would be cool to be Superwoman.  Alas.

But not a big deal, right?  We’ve all had these shoulder-to-cry-on talks a thousand times before.  And there’ll be plenty more.  And these were actually relatively simple ones.  No need to start writing anti-depressant prescriptions today.  No, these were standard issue(s) tea and sympathy sessions in a ritualized conversational genre that’s almost as scripted as a Tiger Woods press conference.

And yet, I cracked the mold a little today. To my friends’ shock or at least my own.  Without realizing it, I gave them both the same advice that in retrospect was one of the best things I’ve said in a long time.  I challenged them each in their own way to go out on limbs and try showing a little undeserved love and a little deserved truth telling.  Instead of analyzing all the angles with them to find a way to get what they want and protect themselves better, I tried to empower them them to just go out and lead by example.  Your girlfriend’s not being cool?  Well, let her know how you feel but then try being super cool to her when she least expects it.  Send a message of “I’m going to break the quid-pro-quo cycle and just be super cool.  Feel free to join me. ”  I call this “grace.”

Maybe, my friends will get burned.  But I don’t think so.  And even if they do, they will have been generous in the process, which is to say that they will have created beauty in barren places.  And they will have learned a lot about the possibilities of their relationships.  Maybe, they won’t get credit for it, but so what?  They’ll know.  If all the world’s a stage, who’s in your audience?

Easier said than done.

(Follow-up: I gave one of them a surprise hug at the end of our talk and he melted.  ”You’re not the hugging type,” he said.  What have I been missing?)