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The Twelve Tools Page 11

by Natti Ronel


  What’s mine is mine -- what’s theirs is theirs

  Let’s take a typical example. Someone is driving in the morning rush-hour, in heavy traffic. She wants to turn left, and sees a long queue of cars there, and the traffic-light keeps changing, from green back to red. She waits patiently. The blocked traffic moves slowly. Impatient drivers arrive from the right-hand lane and cut into the left-hand lane, to avoid a long wait in the queue. When she finally gets close to the light, a vehicle appears, trying to cut her off. She feels a surge of frustration -- she’s been waiting patiently, so why let an impatient driver get in before her? Is her own time not valuable? Because of all these impatient drivers she’s been held up for about twice the normal time, and the blocked traffic is moving even more slowly, unnecessarily so. We can understand the frustrated driver, can’t we? She’s right, by any measure of justice that we can think of.

  Right, but only almost. Right towards the other driver, perhaps right towards the rest of the drivers, but not, and this can’t be stressed too much -- definitely not (!) – fair towards herself, because of what she is going through. She’s frustrated because of someone else, with whom she has no connection at all, and this other person, who invaded her traffic-lane, also invaded her consciousness. What helped him invade her consciousness, what actually invited him to invade her consciousness, is the seemingly justified response, frustration and anger of our driver, and perhaps her behavior too, by way of retaliation -- for example, tail-gating the vehicle in front of her and not letting the other driver in, showing him with hand-gestures just what she thinks of him, and more. Perhaps such behavior is right for the world, but in practice it isn’t righteous for the patient driver.

  It’s easy to identify times when we’ve found ourselves in a relationship with another person, which turns into an imaginary relationship of the kind known as “zero-sum game” or “win-lose” -- one gains what the other loses -- and each of them tries to improve the odds, to gain more and to avoid losing. The inflexible relationship is something we actually create with our responses, and even if we are apparently victorious -- I didn’t let him cut me off on the road -- the apparent victory comes at a high price; I was angry, I felt intense frustration, I turned into an impatient driver, maybe a tense and anxious driver, cutting off other drivers myself, and so on.

  We have a natural tendency to connect our situation with the situation of others -- like those we happen to encounter on the road, like the impatient driver who cut us off -- and especially those with whom we have a rather complex relationship. Connecting our situation with the situation of others makes us painfully dependent on them (and them on us too, but this is their business). The connection between our situation and their situation is expressed in almost every aspect of the relationship -- we examine what other people are doing, what they’re saying and even what, in our opinion, they’re thinking or feeling, and for some reason it seems to us that their opinions or their words have an influence on us and thus, they’re very important to us.

  Let’s go back to the frustrated driver -- how long was she delayed by the impetuous driver who cut her off? Maybe fifteen seconds, probably less. Only a few seconds. Are they so important? Does the delay have such an influence on her? What about the emotional price? Previously, she was driving patiently, she was relaxed. Suddenly, she became frustrated and irritated, looking out for any driver alongside her, to see if they were trying to cut her off. The serenity of the driving disappeared, because she made it possible for the impertinent driver -- not a friend or a relative, just a chance acquaintance -- to influence her consciousness and also her behavior. Apparently, it’s all because of the other but in fact, it’s her response that allows the other driver to invade her consciousness. The other driver is just a symbol, just a stimulus, and what our driver has done with the stimulus -- it’s already hers.

  Incidents like this happen all the time -- confronting someone who’s supposed to be serving us and isn’t giving the service expected of him, confronting a demanding and dimwitted customer, and so on. In close relationships, between friends, between partners, within the family, the dependent emotional link is felt more often. In such relationships it’s as if we’re dependent on what others say or do, and that’s why we become critical, judgmental, vigilant, or insulted, hurt, or angry. In all these situations, we’re usually influenced not by the words or the actions of the other person, but specifically by the significance that we attach to them, by what we understand of them, in a somewhat distorted view of the world. It isn’t the other person, it’s our story about him or her. The story includes our interpretations regarding them and the conclusions that we draw, derived from our world and our story about reality. For example, the driver who cuts in front of us on the road -- our story is about the cheeky driver who isn’t prepared to wait with all the others, and the time has come to teach a lesson to all such drivers, and so on. In the story, we are the victims, tragic heroes or fighters for social justice, while in fact, we are the victims of ourselves, of a distorted reality that we create out of the very story that we tell.

  The tool “Distinguishing Facts” relates to these situations with the simple formula: “What’s mine -- is mine, what’s theirs -- is theirs.” The tool indicates that it’s preferable to refrain from making assessments of others, linking our destiny to theirs or telling the story of a destiny that is shared, if only for a fleeting moment in life. It’s also unnecessary to delve deep into interpretations of their behavior, or to draw strong personal conclusions about it. There is no point in linking dependent destiny with interpretations of the behavior of others, even when these are done within a relatively close relationship. They are, in fact, harmful to close relationships, creating painful dependence and complicating life. Interpretations and the linking of destiny distort reality for us, as any complication can distort. Simplicity brings us back to the facts -- I should worry about what is mine, and the others can worry about what is theirs. For example, if I’m driving in the left-hand lane in heavy traffic, approaching a corner, and someone tries to cut me off from the right -- his style of driving is definitely his. So, what is mine? My response. The choice of how to respond reveals a range of possibilities for us. The facts are that the behavior of the other isn’t under our control and usually isn’t our responsibility either, but our response to it is always ours, as we said in the Serenity Prayer.

  It’s possible to go further -- not only is the behavior of the other not mine and not under my control, it isn’t directed personally against me. Perhaps our biggest mistake is that it seems to us that what others do (or refrain from doing) is directed personally towards us. We develop an imaginary connection which is so strong, even with casual acquaintances, that we’re prepared to fight with them over something. The fact is that most people work in their own interest. It’s possible that we feel a relevant connection with their interests, and possibly not. But their action is the product of many things, some whose influence is known, others less so. Every action of the other which involves us and seem to relate to us isn’t directed personally towards us. They are only their actions, with a multiplicity of causes, superficial or profound, personal and social, and even relating to Karma (From Sanskrit, meaning: an action; referring to the results in the present of the totality of a person’s actions in the past, in particular in past lives). It’s unnecessary and pointless to draw conclusions about their reasons; after all, we’re not omniscient, and speculations and conclusions just complicate things.

  Another thing -- we sometimes confuse the person with behavior, and on the basis of behavior, we attribute a whole range of features to him or her, which could be right, but often aren’t. When we are witnesses to some behavior, the simple fact that we can know is that the person has behaved, but beyond this, we usually know very little, and no one is as one-dimensional as they seem to us according to the definition of their behaviors. Thus, as an extension to the distinction of the Serenity Prayer, the
current tool also advises us to distinguish the simple fact that a person is not only his or her behavior. Distinguishing between the person and his or her behavior opens up further possibilities in the world. For example, someone who acts in a way that damages us is not necessarily entirely evil, setting themselves up against us, and there’s no need to declare war on them.

  If the behavior that could have harmed us isn’t personal, then why are we physically or emotionally hurt by it? Bad luck, destiny, execution of our accumulated Karma or a challenge, depending on our point of view. The reason is less important. The fact is that the moment somebody’s action creates influence in this world of ours, we need to confront this influence. Knowing that it is basically the confrontation of every one of us with the facts of our destiny and it isn’t necessarily personal, “head to head” conflict between us and the so-called aggressor creates a clear sense of relief. The Chinese sage Chuang Tzu proposes a graphic illustration in this regard. Let’s imagine that we are cruising along the river at our leisure, and suddenly a boat collides with us. Will our response be different, depending on whether the boat is empty and has been swept along by the current, or the boat is manned and the person supposed to be steering, for some reason, has steered it into our path? It’s clear that in the case of an unmanned boat, we’ll relate to the incident as something not deliberately aimed at us, putting it down to bad luck at the most, an attribution which spares us the emotion which would be liable to taint the picture of reality. We can relate to most things that we meet as an “empty boat,” an attribution that simplifies matters, removing the complexities of personal intentions and our responses to them, and helping us to respond to the facts in a more appropriate way. At the same time, the texture of human life doesn’t really turn its hand to anything cold and detached. On the contrary, relating to the “empty boat” frees us to respond to others in a way that is human, close and warm, without inventing unnecessary stories or confusing our story with reality. This attribution enables us to take a closer look at others as they are, without the intrusion of self-centeredness and complex connections.

  Here’s a specific example: a married and loving couple wanted to be intimate. The husband was a little tense and couldn’t perform as well as they both wanted. He was embarrassed, alarmed by what had happened to him, and he developed a personal story of failure, into which he fell. She thought that his temporal sexual impotence was aimed at her, that he was less attracted to her or something similar, and she ignored his distress and his pain at the blow to his masculinity. He, in his distress, ignored her story of insulted femininity; she was no longer sure of herself, and so on. What was close, intimate or loving about this situation? They both fell into self-centeredness, which hid the facts from them. After a conversation between the husband and me, matters were clarified for him; he was capable of seeing how the story looked to her and also of talking to her and explaining his story. And with understanding and the realization that there was nothing personal against either of them, only the tension that existed in him and was his, things were sorted out.

  The phrase “What’s mine -- is mine, what’s theirs -- is theirs” takes us back to simple distinction. In the example of the driver who cuts us off, it is relatively easy to accept it, especially when we’re sitting in a comfortable place far from the commotion of the highway, from the stress of traffic-jams and from impatience to get ahead. In social life, in families and in loving relationships, things are more complicated, but here too, the simple rule of distinction applies. Yes, even with couples. What our partner does is his or hers, but we can choose how to respond, how to behave. If we can’t choose? Then the Serenity Prayer can help. Anyway, going into a sad, painful or critical movie because of the behavior of someone else, even someone we love, just complicates matters.

  Here’s another example of another loving couple. They have declared that their love is strong. According to him, sometimes it is too strong (which raises an unrelated question -- is there such a thing as love that’s “too strong?”). In his opinion, she was a slob, leaving a trail of disorder behind her wherever she went in the house. In his eyes, her slovenliness was something negative. According to him, what interested him was the good of the house, not only his own good. In his opinion, the mess was damaging the house, and her as well. This is the story that he told himself. His role in the story was to move between the status of victim, clearing up after her and rescuing the house, and the status of a counselor, educating her for her own good. And all with love, apparently. In fact, he argued with her over everything that, in his opinion, had been put in the wrong place, he compulsively re-arranged things the way they should be, and inside, in the heart, he’d “had enough of her.” How is it possible to talk about love? Whom did he love -- her or his image of the way she should and could be? His fantasy, the story he was telling himself? To his credit, when all this was brought to his attention, he immediately accepted that there wasn’t too much love here, rather the opposite. There was an obstacle to love, the obstacle of self-centeredness, which tells us nice stories about caring love, good-natured education of a beloved partner, and a sincere concern for the house. So what’s to be done?

  The principle “what’s mine -- is mine, what’s theirs -- is theirs” can be practiced on a day-to-day basis, a practice that’s particularly appropriate in cases of repetitive complications in relationships, when there is criticism and a tendency to get angry with others because of what they do, or a tendency to indulge in interpretation or conclusions about their behavior. As with the other tools, we can test ourselves at the end of the day, and we can also do this whenever a thought occurs to us that is critical -- judgmental or reflecting anger, frustration or a sense of victimhood. We can repeat to ourselves the phrase “what’s mine -- is mine, and what’s theirs -- is theirs,” a statement that can even raise a smile. It reminds us that nothing here is personal, it just seems that way.

  Something that needs stressing -- it has never been suggested that we should accept with joy and love or even passivity all the behavior of another person, not at all. If someone is trying to hurt me, the attempt is his or hers, but it’s my responsibility to respond and prevent them from hurting me and make sure that the threat of violence is averted. On the one hand, we propose to minimize the story that we make out of the attack, but on the other hand it’s both desirable and necessary to respond in such a way that the dangerous situation, or even the potentially harming situation, will be stopped. The response that prevents attack is ours, within our responsibility. It gives us control over what is possible, even in a case where violent force is trying to hurt us. Judgmental criticism or playing the victim may seem to be justified, but they usually do nothing to prevent an attack; they only make us more vulnerable and add to our frustration and exacerbate the problematic relationship. Correct use of the tool helps us to return to the facts, and with the aid of the Serenity Prayer to see what can be changed about them. Practice of the principle “what’s mine -- is mine, and what’s theirs -- is theirs” indeed helps us to stop an attack.

  A final point -- the saying “What’s mine -- is mine, and what’s theirs -- is theirs” has an additional meaning, not necessarily connected with relations with another, but definitely connected with the stories that we tell ourselves which distort reality for us. Very often, we tend to compare ourselves with others -- he’s been given more than me, she’s been given less, and so on. Is she better than me, is he more successful, and anyway the neighbor’s lawn is always greener. We even compare the things that we cherish with those of others -- “Are other people’s children more successful?” “Is his wife more affluent?” “Did her partner buy her a more impressive present?” and other such enfeebling statements. Sometimes the neighbor’s lawn really is greener -- perhaps he takes better care of it, or his lawn is better suited to cultivating grass, or something else. Anyway, his lawn is his. If it’s possible to learn something from him about cultivating a lawn, excellent -- le
t’s go ahead and learn it -- the learning is ours. But to move into a cycle of comparisons, to compete against the other, with jealousy and such, only interferes with our lives, and it certainly isn’t connected with facts. Even to compare someone dear to us to others is hurtful and brings precisely the opposite result from the one we wanted. So, the motto is saying to us, in fact -- you want to compare? Fine. Let’s compare ourselves with ourselves. For example, what has changed in me recently? Does it suit me, or not? Shall I carry on like this? Is my lawn greener this year than it was last year? Congratulations. And if it’s less green? Perhaps it needs more manure or irrigation. The motto helps us to focus on a part of us, without getting into imaginary or realistic competition with others; it defuses tension and unnecessary frustration. What, for example, are we to do with an education system that preaches the virtues of competitiveness and excellence, as if these are values to which we should aspire? In a word -- it’s a pity. A pity that these are values we’re supposed to prize, instead of giving and sharing and personal development, which have nothing to do with competition. Since the values of the education system are its own, they belong to those responsible for it and not to us, so we can stop here.

 

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