What are you really saying?

I went to a new doctor yesterday and I was uncomfortable with how our conversation went. It got me to thinking about things people say, questions they ask, and why they are asking. In essence: Manners 101.

A few examples from yesterday. The doctor asked me to stand on the scale. I don't care to weigh myself right now and I don't want to know. Why? None of your business. (what I should have said) Instead, I stood with my back to the scale and said "would you please not tell me my weight? I don't want to know." I think he made a comment about me not being fat, but I'm not sure. Then he said,"you do appreciate how you look, right?" Huh? What was he really saying? Was he complimenting me? Was he concerned that I might be anorexic or have a distorted body image? I took the bait and said "yes, it's just that my weight has fluctuated lately and I don't want to know." I wish I'd said "why do you ask?" Must I justify a simple preference?

Then, he asked me what I do for a living. I had written down "writer," as that is what I've spent the majority of my career doing. That progressed into a discussion about also being a songwriter. He asked if I have made any money at it. (annoying and nosy) He asked how songs get published and suggested ways of promoting songs on the Internet. (thanks, I'm an idiot who needs advice from an objective non-musician who has never written or pitched a song) I gently tried to give him some idea of how it works, and he persisted in suggesting ways to "make it easier" by creating a website on which songwriters would post songs and artists could listen to them. Um, yeah, it exists and it's called "Taxi." When this ignorant, condescending conversation was going nowhere fast, he asked what my husband does. (I don't like that question because it feels like a way of "qualifying" me by what kind of man I caught) When I told him, he dug himself deeper with "oh so he has the more stable job." (implying what, that I'm a slacker?) I said, "he's also a musician." He laughed and said "oh, both of you!" Don't worry doc, I can pay your bill. What was really going on there? I think he is probably a socially challenged person who was trying to get to know me and stepped in every pothole possible. I don't think he meant any harm. But oh how I wish Miss Manners could have been there to instruct him on basic social graces. They can be learned! Now I'm glad that I didn't have to disrobe for this exam. I don't think that would have gone well at all.

One more example. I had a horrible job that I knew was not going to work from day one. I left after a week. Here's what not to say about that. "I guess you have the luxury of quitting since your husband has a job." What??? How do you know what my options are? Maybe I'm a closet millionaire. Maybe I have such faith that I believe I don't deserve abuse and God will make it right financially. And, are my finances any of your business? No. A more gracious response would be 1) empathy (how disappointing) and 2) support (I'm sure there is another opportunity for you). Even laughter would be ok -- as in "wow, there are sure some crazy people out there!"

I don't know people's motives. And what they think of me and why is none of my business. But I wonder if people are aware of what they are putting out there. There are other options besides zeroing in on my status or giving me unrequested advice. Go easy. Share a similar story of your own. Ask what kind of food I like. Ask if I have any fun plans for the summer. Tell me about a new activity, or store, or restaurant in an effort to be helpful. These are all warm and safe topics.

And one more thing while I'm on this rant. When a person states a preference, don't flat out disagree. "Oh, I hate Clint Eastwood movies." In a new relationship you are trying to find common ground, not debate. It makes you look insecure. Like you have to claim your power, position, and be "right" from the beginning. It sets up conflict. It does not make you look strong. Grace and restraint make you look strong.

I can't speak for the doctor, but the "warm and safe topics" hold if his motive was to build a rapport. I have another doctor who told me to be sure to get a massage after my mammogram, offering that his wife found a 50% off coupon on TravelZoo. That was helpful! My response? I suggested he offer to buy massages for his patients. Touche! Maybe I was a little brazen, but I felt we had a rapport and I could mess with him a little. After all, he had just investigated me thoroughly (ugh). And, during that process, he had commented on how sparkly I was. It took me a minute to realize he was talking about my toenail polish. Whew, that was a close one!

I guess I was raised to believe that talking about money, religion, politics, and a person's "status" is rude. Maybe not everyone was raised that way. So I'll do my best to demonstrate politeness, till you tick me off. Then I'll invite you to read my blog. Thank you. I feel better now.

Living in Truth is Risky Business

I'd have to say that the best moments of my life have resulted from taking a leap of faith -- a risk to stand on life's stage while the demons of discouragement laughed and threw tomatoes from the seats. The most unhappy moments of my life were often the results of holding back, playing it safe, and not being honest with myself. The ninth commandment (in essence) says "thou shalt not lie." That includes the lies we tell ourselves. And those have added more unhappiness than any lies others may have told me.

An example of a risk worth taking was my foray into singing. I stood on a stage in my 20s and dared to sing at Karaoke night. My knees were shaking. My voice barely came out. I had no idea how to hold or use a microphone. A friend came on stage to help me stay standing. I chose to face that fear. I muscled through. Over time I became more comfortable because I just kept doing it. Soon after, I read in the newspaper that the Conejo Valley Chamber of Commerce was holding a contest, and the winner would sing the National Anthem at Dodger Stadium. Entering the contest required a demo tape of me singing the Anthem and a story about what the Dodgers meant to me. I thought "this is a long shot -- but why not?" A friend at work had a home studio where I recorded the song -- complete with my own piano playing -- in Eb, no less. Writing about the Dodgers was easy as I had attended many games with my family. I could quote players' names, stats, etc. I was sitting at my desk at work when I got the call that I won! I screamed! I panicked! I had to get ready to sing in front of a stadium full of people! I decided I needed a demo tape to hand out if anyone "discovered" me, and a work friend referred me to Denny Martin, a local producer. Denny introduced me to songwriting. And I've loved this singing and songwriting journey I've been on for the past 20 years. All because I took a chance.

The lies I told myself are much more painful to reveal. They were usually reasons I should not take a chance, not step up, or an effort to fit into some role that I was not suited for and not passionate about. I did this a lot in my career. I became a "meet the deadline" adrenaline machine. My soul was lost in edits and rewrites that served the client's ego but not their true goal. I became tangled in a no-win situation. To speak up was career suicide; and not speaking up resulted in resentment. I gave away my power. I wanted all the perks without the responsibility -- without the risk. It used to work. Then, suddenly, it just didn't work anymore.

What makes one person a mailroom clerk and another a vice president? What are all these games people play to climb the corporate ladder? It's exhausting to think about. I do know that whatever role you are in, you can transcend it by putting your unique soul and love into it. I watched Frederee, who was a "maid" by profession, transcend that role into becoming my second mom. I'm sure that required taking risks. She was authentically herself and I instinctively trusted her.

What's the lesson? Taking risks is worth it. Being truthful with yourself keeps your soul's garden healthy and stops the seeds of resentment from taking over. It may not be comfortable. However, in my experience, making comfort the goal is an exercise in frustration. So I bid an official "good bye" to corporate America. You served me well for many years. I met some great people and I gained a plethora of valuable experience. But you are my past. Self-employment is my future. I am a singer, songwriter, writer, and a teacher. God made me this way, and He's got my back. The secret is being brave, and being truthful. No more false self, security seeking, or people pleasing. Just taking one brave step at a time. In love. In truth.