Assignment #1: internal monologue
How much of ourselves do we really reveal to those around us? Even those to whom we're close? Can anyone really know what we're thinking? Humans seem to be such empathetic creatures, expressing sadness for others, feeling vicarious joy. Sometimes, though, I wonder if indeed that's true empathy or just a reflection of our own experiences as we project our feelings on to others. I mean, whenever I witness someone's pain (physical, emotional) my first instinct seems to be to measure how I would feel in that situation and judge whether that person is demonstrating the appropriate response.
I don't think we ever really think about the pain of others unless it directly relates to us.
There.
I said it.
We have a hard time fathoming that which we haven't experienced. It's why our language is peppered with similes and metaphors. We can't help but foist our expectations onto other people: "you've come back to work after a year off from maternity leave? That must be tough to leave your kid behind!" Now imagine your reaction when she says "actually, no, I couldn't wait to get out of the house and away from all that drool." ...admittedly, my first thought was mild disapproval.
I mean, why do we really care about being good people? Is it because we want to be or because we know that other people are judging just as harshly? Like if someone asks you this important question and you don't answer right away. You keep her waiting. The only reason you may feel bad is if you're worried whether she'll think worse of you. If you don't care about what she thinks... well, you just keep her waiting. Meanwhile, her guts are in knots and she's freaking out; if she's a semi-functioning adult, she's probably hiding all that inner turmoil under her veneer of expected civility and going about her day because she doesn't want anyone thinking that she's a basket case.
I don't want to think that you and I are such solipsistic beings. I want to believe that we do things because we care about each other and not because we care about our reputations with each other, that we don't have some add/subtract column in which we measure the worth of our relationship, that we are ... more. Most times, I do believe in the kindness of strangers, in the generosity of mankind, in the give-and-take of true friendship.
And then, checking an empty mailbox day after day, suddenly I don't. Suddenly, my entire world is about my pain, my pressures and my regrets. And you, standing beside me, may be opening a letter bearing devastating news of your own. You don't even register on my radar. In that moment, we are locked in our separate places, with no room to spare for any feeling but our own. We're staring into our mirrors, into ourselves, unable to see beyond.
Am I bad person? Are you?
1 comment:
Everything is social. In strict terms, humans have used their intellect to refine their base instincts to create a social code. Violating the social code is bad for us so we don't do it. I think we would be further along in our social evolution if we just accepted that our lives and experiences were personal and that empathy is a social rather than instintual function. We feel empathy because we like to feel empathy in return. As a introvert and happyalone, I personally love how this functions. I frankly like to be left alone with my own life and find it hard to muster all the right things to say as dictated by the social code. If we thought of it more in terms of social exchange, we would suffer less hurt and disappointment. Humans are programmed to protect themselves first, why villify them for it?
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