Reflecting on empathy and self-awareness.
I froze when I'd heard it. It'd been a total fluke—I hadn't meant to eavesdrop. Still, out of nowhere, the words "...his psychiatrist told him he hates his mother" floated through the air.
That particular sentence had sprung free of the conversational murmuring from the coffee shop crowd and landed cleanly in my ears. I'd just come back to my table with a refilled mug in hand, and had to do my best not to then spill it across my laptop, book, and notebook.
Two women sat at the table directly next to mine, though only one of them faced me. Without being too obvious, I'd tried to get a better look at her, as she'd been the one who'd just spoken about this person and his apparently opinionated psychologist. Yes, she'd used both terms interchangeably; though I doubt she realized the difference. Based on the general tone with which she discounted their perspective, it made me think she might be the mother in question.
Daring a glance, I'd noticed she sat with impressive posture. Maybe it'd been bolstered by a bit of defensiveness? Either way, her eyebrows remained in the sort of raised position that indicated judgement. She actually reminded me a lot of Doris Roberts—the actress who famously played the family matriarch in both National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation and Everybody Loves Raymond.
Remembering to take a sip of coffee, I'd begun to have a conversation with myself about what to do. In the same way that movies show an angel and devil on a character's shoulder, I'd pictured a few friends pulling up a chair in my head and giving me a second to talk things through.
I've... um... I've mentioned I'm reading No Bad Parts by Dr. Richard C. Schwartz on Internal Family Systems, right? Yep, yep, good—just checking.
Anyways, accidentally hearing this woman talking, presumably, about her son felt...icky. But, the whole thing did make me really curious. For instance—I'd felt the immediate need to defend this man I didn't know anything about, other than what was said in that single sentence. Just by the way it'd been said, I'd actually come up with a couple of possible explanations for a backstory.
- This man had been working with a licensed mental health professional and attempted to talk to his mother about his progress. Being, himself, intimidated by her, he'd used his counselor as a scapegoat to soften the blow of what he'd been trying to tell his mom.
- This man did talk to his mother about his progress successfully, but his mother's inability to listen without becoming defensive led her to blame someone other than herself. It'd be easier to cope, I'd reasoned, if she could justify why her son might say what he'd said.
And I'll never know if either of these were anywhere close to correct.
Obviously, I wasn't going to inject myself into their discussion. And, having vented my own internal frustrations with what I'd heard, decided I was ready to be done eavesdropping.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
104/365
In his book, No Bad Parts, Dr. Richard C. Schwartz says "...compassion is the ability to be in Self with somebody when they're really hurting and feel for them, but not be overwhelmed by their pain. You can only do that if you've done it within yourself."
He goes on to say, "when you realize that you're not the insecure selfish parts that you've identified with for so long, but instead that you're this Self that's curious, calm, confident, compassionate, creative, clear, courageous, joyful, generous, and playful—you feel happy."
Does this resonate with you? Why? How do you see it?
onward.
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