As social creatures, we are biologically hardwired for connection. Our DNA affords us a powerful and inherent drive towards getting close to others. Yet, we simultaneously seem to be quite adept at actively breeding disconnection in our lives. We don't listen, we armor up, we get defensive, we grip resentment and we cling to contempt. Or, if you are anything like me, you find yourself propping yourself up with perhaps the most insidious form of armor available to us - self-righteous indignation. Our ego LOVES this defense because it is well-practiced at fighting shame with shame. It's seductive powers are effective at making us feel "strong" and protected. It feeds grandiosity by seeking to "one up" others so that we can delude ourselves in feeling "better than." It's not pretty, it's not effective, it's not kind, and it's definitely not vulnerable.
Self-righteous indignation reminds me a lot of the cowardly lion. Here is this "ferocious" beast who actively roars and intimidates and slashes with his sharp claws as a means to hide from his own insecurities and shame. The saddest truth of this type of armor is how hard and fast it tends to naturally calcify and thicken. Think about it - How willing are you to confront (let alone engage) with someone whose best defense is to directly attack you and your deficiencies?
In the end, people typically choose not to share their truth with us and so we stay dangerously convinced that the thoughts, beliefs and stories we make up are "right." Left alone in a grandiose and one up position, we find ourselves at the mercy of a self-reinforcing cycle that only breeds further pain and disconnection. When someone does call upon her courage to step towards connection with us by sharing her hard truth, we immediately reject it and throw it back at her and say, "Really? How can you say that? I have NEVER heard that from anyone else. You are the ONLY one who thinks that." It's not until we stop to consider the reality that people are actually scared to tell us their truth that we can begin to let go of our self-righteous indignation and come back into connection with ourselves and with others.
I had a sobering and life changing experience with this scenario about a year ago. My son, who then was at the ripe old age of 7, asked if he could talk to me. I can't really remember where we were or what we were even doing, but I do remember him looking very serious as he took my hand and sat me down on the sidewalk. As we relaxed onto the pavement, he turned to me with his big brown eyes shining and said, "Mom, I love you and I want you to know that you are too intense for me." Time stopped and my senses heightened. I thankfully fell into a receptive and open state of curiosity that surprised even me.
I wanted to know more. I wanted to know what his little heart wanted me to hear. So, softly, I asked him to keep sharing. And so he did. With the courage of a true warrior he said, "Well mom, you are intense. You have a lot of energy, you talk to strangers, you push yourself hard, you push us to work hard, you make us do our best. And, it just feels too intense for me sometimes." It was one of the most intimate times of my life. Here was my child, my precious little guy giving me feedback on how he experiences me. And because he is right and I am intense, I wanted to know how I could make it better. I let him know that I agreed with him and I wondered out loud what "could I do about it?" And this is where he really got me...
"Well mom, I love who you are. It's ok for you to be intense because that is who you are. You should be intense with dad, and at work, and with your friends.
But with me, mom, can you just turn it down a little?"
Needless to say, I was transformed in that very moment. Could I just turn it down a little??? How brilliant! Still be who we are, but stay receptive to making slight changes so that others can feel safe with us and can show up to us with their personalities too. I think he just solved all of the world's problems right there! In any case, had I been hiding from shame by clinging to self-righteous indignation, I would never had heard my son and his wise advice. I would have thrown it all back at him, "What? I'm too intense? Hardly. It's not that I am intense, it's that you aren't determined enough, you don't have enough drive, you are lazy. It's not me - it's you." Sound familiar?
In the end, when we are open and receptive to feedback, especially to the very hard to hear type, we are choosing to be brave as we move into growth and connection. My son's request surely made me wonder who else in my life might also be feeling the same way but just hasn't told me? YIKES! It isn't lost on me that receptivity with our children is often made easier than with our spouses. Could I have had the same curiosity, receptivity, and openness with my spouse had he shared the same concerns? What about with my mother? My brother? My coworkers? These are compelling questions to consider. And I hope that you will.
It's time to get over ourselves and let go of self-righteous indignation as a form of armor. How safe do you think people are in giving you feedback around how they feel in your presence? Can you own your worth and deal with your shame so that you can truly hear what they are saying and move closer to them as a result? And lastly, how do you thank people for choosing to speak the hard truth to you? For, it is one of the most precious gifts we can ever receive.