What She Said–and How She Said It

People born toward the bottom of large sibling piles tend to be adaptable, in the sense that they instinctively fill vacant roles in any group situation. If the moment wants levity, they crack a joke. If there’s an invisible elephant in the room, they name it. If the dishes are piling up, they do the dishes. The team is stronger for having such personalities on the roster, and not incidentally, the adaptable party finds a lot of ways to feel useful.

This tendency doesn’t always prevail, but the trait frequently applies to me. I noticed this at the barn where I volunteer. I’m often focused on, “What needs to happen next to get this participant and their horse into the arena? What can we do now to be pre-ready for the lesson after that?” Maybe critical-path thinking comes from running my own law practice, or years of single-parenting, but I suspect it’s also just me. Vigilant about deploying resources effectively, sometimes to the point of missing the forest as I walk straight into a tree.

On of the instructors pulled me aside fairly early in my volunteer efforts and said words to this effect: In the vast majority of situations, initiative, forward momentum, and strategic thinking are great assets. I’m not suggesting you abandon them entirely. Here, though, where our participants have often been managed, structured, and scheduled halfway to perdition, a more relaxed approach can be useful. For us to move at their pace, according to their priorities, in the direction they choose, is one of the greatest gifts we have to offer them.”

Moses in the bulrushes, did I ever need to hear that. This woman was saying to me, “I see and appreciate that you are trying to solve the problem of how to be helpful. I agree that your approach has a lot to recommend it, but let me give you some context, and another perspective to consider.” She managed to be critical without in any way leaving me feeling diminished or reprimanded.

In fact, I was relieved. I was trying to solve the problem of how best to be useful, and she added an option: Be a kind, non-anxious presence. That’s a big contribution.

That wisdom in itself would be a lovely take-away, but I am also impressed with how deftly the guidance was provided. The same instructor could have said, “Simmer down, Grace. Pushy, twitchy people make the horses fretful,” (which is true). In the alternative, she might have said nothing, and I’d still be overstepping my role on occasion, wasting effort at other times, and harshing the lesson vibe, all while I just try to be helpful.

She couched her correction such that I felt valued, appreciated, and supported rather than shamed, and you know what helps me simmer down the very best? Feeling valued, appreciated, and supported, that’s what.

Other people have come to my aid in the same manner, offering gentle, constructive insights, about how I parented my daughter, managed my money, and dealt with my health. How they expressed themselves, and why they spoke up–kindly, and to truly assist me with a problem–was as much value as what they said.

Have you ever been the recipient of this kind of right word at the right time in the right way? It strikes me that good bosses have this skill, and a lot of clergy likely have it too. Maybe this is what Julian and Hyperia value most in each other… Must have a think on that!