We are such fragile, delicate beings. Inside the hard-shelled exterior of coolness, competence, and too-tough-to-care grown-up-ness we are all one word away from elation or despair far more often than we dare to admit. It doesn’t matter so much whether it’s a deliberately critical or slighting remark or it’s a supremely thoughtless slip of the lip. It might be as tiny as that moment when a really marvelous person very simply forgets to say that one little offhand, passing thing that he ordinarily says when he is leaving the library office just as you get in on a Wednesday to turn in your book–but you realize on the occasion that you depend on hearing it to make that moment shine. What power is in choosing or denying discretion and politesse!
Sometimes people clue us in when they’re in grave need of that word of assurance or generosity, but far more often than not, we all play guessing games a whole lot of the time about what others need to hear–or what they really, truly, deeply do not need to hear. It may be merely that the moment is wrong. End of a bad day; someone was passing in the hall and not supposed to overhear. Got passed over for the promotion or raise. Got the littlest sliver in a pinky finger that morning and it still hurts. Some days, darn it, any one of us can simply be needier and more sensitive than usual.
What spurs this rumination? I was asked recently by someone who couldn’t attend it what I had thought about a particular performance and I responded, shall we say, with blunt honesty. I tried to be discreet, making sure that there was no one proximal to overhear, but I know I wasn’t kind. Truthfully, I know it was also strictly my opinion–nearly everybody around was clearly loving the very performance I found directly opposite to my taste and wishes. What really horrified me, though, was not this thing that I obviously didn’t enjoy but that I was so mean as to say so to another person when there was no positive thing to be gained from the commentary by anyone at all. It struck me afterward as spiteful and small. On top of that, I saw an online remark from another person about something that was equally unappealing to the commentator, a remark that was equally opinionated and mean and in a position only to hurt anyone involved who might read it or hear of it. And there it was, fully public and in writing. I was appalled at the inappropriateness and crassness of it. And instantly appalled at how familiar it seemed. I had just done the same thing. Just because it wasn’t made public doesn’t absolve me in the least. I am sorry I said such a thing. It was an expression of a negative opinion that needn’t have been so harshly exposed to light and did no one any good, least of all me now that I regretted having said it.
Sadly, most of us are capable of having peculiarly dimwitted days of insensitivity or have that moment of foot-in-mouth disease at precisely the wrong time with exactly the least deserving or the one least able to let it roll right on by unnoticed. It’s not only surprising how easily we are catapulted to the stars by a little word of kindness or a perfectly modest compliment, it’s downright shocking how easily that tenuous delight and semblance of self-confidence is deflated and demolished in the next instant by so little a thing as, say, another person not confirming the praise. No need for actual disagreement or intentional omission, but the fact of that brief negligence is enough to plummet the last moment’s high spirits back into the abyss.
Are we all really so vulnerable, so shallow? Not usually–but when the moment is just that necessary bit off kilter, even those of us who ordinarily are the most steeped in aplomb, who seem to be marinated in the holy oil of contentment and stability, these too can crumble instantly to dust like stale biscuits. And none of us is wise and sensitive and compassionate and insightful enough to be perpetually attuned to even our own weak moments in this state, let alone others’. So all I can hope, myself, is that I gradually learn to pay better attention to this strange complexity and keep my ill-aimed darts to myself. And beyond it, that I’ll somehow grow much more mature and build a thicker skin, some handy sort of a human chain-mail suit that will, when the day comes that I find I am in dire need, not let me fold up and collapse just from one little puncturing remark but let me know, instead, that it was only one stray and unplanned word. And after all, that the flimsy breakable things that we are have beauty and purpose, too, and even those that made us crack will eventually remember it’s so, if they have any beauty and purpose of their own.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Sometimes, on a needy day, if I don’t receive whatever validation or affirmation I feel I need & especially if I haven’t gotten enough sleep the previous night, I have to admit that a thoughtless word or gesture, or omission of anything positive, from other people, I have allowed a chain effect to occur and am sometimes intentionally not so nice in my own words and gestures… I’m not proud of this, but it’s true.
That said, I love reading your posts. They are so well-worded and thought provoking.
Thank you so much, KS. I can tell from your comment that you know exactly how I felt–it’s so reassuring just to know we’re not alone!
KI
Thank you for this timely reminder. Every time we hear or see words that cause pain or injury to others, we are given another chance to pay closer attention to what we are putting out there, and to what we are absorbing. Just this week I said some harsh words to my sister. The words had nothing much to do with her, but were more of a reflection of me feeling overwhelmed at the moment. It was like my words were a spurting leak that poured my pain onto her, and that was truly uncalled for and not at all fair. Apologies help salve the wound, but it would be so much better to never have inflicted the wound in the first place.
Creative people tend to have such active imaginations, and we can often misconstrue silence as disapproval, or one word meant as something else, or no response at all as deafening. We pick over everything, pulling it this way and that, looking for all those hidden meanings that fall between the cracks. Then we carry our injured psyches around with us throughout the day, bumping up against others, leaving a trail of discontent.
Thank you for sharing a moment of vulnerability, and for sharing a moment of misplaced word injury, so that we can all read your words and vow to do better, and try harder. We have the opportunity to spread kindness, and love, and acceptance, and encouragement, and sometimes we just need a gentle reminder to use our words wisely. Today. Now.
sorry for the double post, but your beautiful illustration of the feather juxtaposed against your words about fragility and damage, reminded me of this quote that recognizes that just as a feather is delicate and fragile, it can also be used as a weapon:
“As the eagle was killed by the arrow winged with his own feather, so the hand of the world is wounded by its own skill.” Helen Keller
words, and feathers … fragile and delicate, and deadly
That is such a perfectly apropos and beautifully worded statement (as always, it seems) from the marvelous Helen Keller–and equally so, from you, my dear lady. Thank you for sharing your heart so freely. It comforts me greatly. 🙂 Hugs to you.
Oh dear, sometimes after seeing a performance that i could not bear, I would not go backstage so that no-one said to me “What did you think?” I find the question itself needy and in bad taste. I often would have to do the fall back costume compliment! You looked gorgeous up there in that gown!. Or, aren’t the acoustics lovely! As a performer we really only want to hear what you liked, any performer worth his salt knows quite well when he has not been up to par. Personal taste is a difficult one. Ah well. Next time tell her the acoustics were lovely or that he looks fantastic in black!! But oh dear it is so difficult when someone asks you for your opinion. c
In this case it was someone asking me about a performance she knew I was attending and hadn’t been able to attend herself, so my hearer wasn’t, thank heavens, an actual participant in the event. But it’s a tiny world we live in, and I tend to feel like I created some seriously bad karma by even thinking, let alone expressing to another, something so unpleasant about something that’s unalterable even *if* any of the involved parties *wanted* to change it. But yes, it’s so hard to live an opinionated life without it popping out unvarnished at times!!
So is human nature, Kathryn. You are making amends in writing this heartfelt post. Granted the words you spoke were a bit too harsh and out of place, maybe, yet I feel next time you will be softer in the comments you give. That is a lesson we all can learn. If compassion was the lens we saw each other with, the world could be a better place. (Sorry for this philosophical tone)
I can hardly fault you for being introspective when I was ranting, can I, my dear!! I *always* appreciate your thoughtfulness and gentle spirit, Anyes. Thank you.
Your “ruminations” offer us the tenderest of reminders, dearest Kathryn. And that your remarks disturbed you so much in retrospect offers us (and I hope you) a very clear picture (yet another) of the tenderness and goodness of your heart. Thank you so much for your vulnerability and honesty. xo
I do believe that a bit of public penitence, when there’s no chance of a personal apology, can have a little bit of a cleansing effect, if only in making me feel I’m held responsible for improving next time. That goes some distance toward helping me move forward. Knowing I’m surrounded by really good and kind people who will forgive me and support me in my effort to improve goes even further, so I thank you deeply, Antoinette.
xoxo
Life is one long learning lesson, but sometimes we get let out for playtime and everything is alright with the world and clicks into place. I don’t like to tell people do this or that, but I’m inclined to say don’t be too harsh on yourself, be gentle. But then that is easier said than done… Claire
I do know what you mean, and it is balm to me, Claire! Thank you kindly.
xoxo
This reminds me of Whitney Houston’s concerts in Australia last year. At first the audience was very supportive but when Whitney disappeared off stage for 13 minutes and then re-appeared with no explanation except that she was doing a costume change and then she was unable to reach the high notes, the audience turned against her. I’m sure a lot of the people that were there are now wishing they’d been a little more kind to this troubled soul who was clearly was on a downhill slide.
You are so right. We put so much pressure on others to do and be whatever *we* want and expect from them, and public figures are surely the most abused by that attitude from the rest of us. May Ms Houston truly rest in peace! And may we all be more thoughtful in our treatment of others, whose own self-criticism and sorrows and suffering we can’t truly know anyway.
I observed quite a number of people were just a bit out of kilter this past week. When more than two or three are exhibiting a common behavior I’m especially on my toes to be kind, supportive or just stay clear
A very, very wise approach, my friend. I know that my own inner life has its cycles, and I think that my implosion on this occasion was more a result of a whole complex of interacting emotions and experiences, not the fault of what acted as catalyst–so all the more reason not to let one person or thing trigger inappropriate-scaled outbursts. Maybe it was my personal ‘phase of the moon’! In any case, I will certainly take your attitude to heart and hope I can do much better next time. Thank you.
As I’ve written before.. (delete,delete) it’s so much easier for me to choose just the perfect words (pause, hands hover over the keyboard) when I type/write. I have (delete) made some remarks that came out just ghastly and were, in fact, not what I really felt (insert) or thought, at all. It just comes out “wrong” when I’m having a verbal conversation, I think that’s why I love to write:) Perhaps (as others above have said) you are too hard on yourself? I once mentioned this “shortcoming” of mine to a friend and she said, as I will say to you now.. Anyone who truly knows you, Kathryn, understands what a beautiful heart and mind you have… and would forgive… xo Smidge
You are such a loving spirit, my darling, and I so appreciate your gentle words. While I may be hard on myself, I also know that I was unreasonably hard on others, even if they didn’t know it, and wish to learn to rise above that sort of thing and not succumb to such stuff, especially when it’s rarely strictly about the moment at hand (see my comments from and to many others above!). Once again, you are a dear comforter to me, and I am very grateful.
xoxo
Kath
xoxoxo
Wow! How very timely! Lately I have been extremely techy about any and everything from how one looks at me to what words were chosen or inflection in the voice….etc. I know I am a sensitive soul who can sometimes run roughshod over others (although with latest mood swings I’ve been wondering why don’t I wear hobnail boots when I run roughshod) without knowing or sometimes even caring. I think we all need margaritas and a spa day! My opinion and I’m stickin’ to it 🙂
I must say, your proposed cure sounds perfectly marvelous to me! 🙂 I hope that, margaritas or not, we can all put away the hobnail-booted mood soon and get back to being our cheerier selves . . . but I’m pretty sure the ‘ritas would help speed it up, and all the more so with spa comforts to seal the deal!
Well, Kathryn my baby girl, we all forget from time to time the kind advice our mothers gave us, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all, even if you are asked”…
I’m afraid it came out more like Alice Roosevelt Longworth’s purported ‘come and sit by me’–but I’ll do better next time. Sigh. 🙂
Kathryn, we can hear your heart in this essay. Words best kept to ourselves slip out and we cannot take them back. Regret seems to bring momentary relief, but it is an illusion. As you have written so well, we must make amends and try to change our ways. Even if we fall down again for the thousandth time (I speak from experience). You speak for our better selves; the people we aspire to be. Thank you.
Thank you for your kindness.I’ve no delusions about my being very much a work in progress. Onward and upward!
K
Pingback: My Writers Cramp | My Writer's Cramp
Oh, what a raw and honest reflection you have shared here. And your lovely, cool, feathery painting accompanies it perfectly!
This post shows awareness, Kathryn, which doesn’t ever excuse what is sometimes said because opinions, likes and dislikes, experience, or such a muddle of other emotions and mindsets suddenly rule even the most sensitive and kind amongst us. But being aware, facing the consequences and effect, admitting (even just to ourselves) that we did not speak or behave well is SO IMPORTANT as we progress. And progress is the key. Looking behind us with honesty helps us to move forward with more enlightened intentions.
Your last line is exquisite!
‘And after all, that the flimsy breakable things that we are have beauty and purpose, too, and even those that made us crack will eventually remember it’s so, if they have any beauty and purpose of their own.’
…and ntexas99’s share quote from Helen Keller gave me shivers!
Thanks so much for sharing this!
I, in turn, am so very grateful to be in a place where I feel safe to admit to my enormous fallibility and vulnerability to stupid mistakes and bad behavior. And yes, I *do* fully intend to do better. With support and help from good souls like you, 99 and even Helen Keller.
xoxo