How to Unleash the Power of Restraint

When someone unleashes on you

This morning I read a terrific piece in Mind Cafe by Barry Davret, which speaks not only to something that happened to me just a few days ago, but which happens with unfortunate regularity on social media: toxic language, verbal abuse and shaming.

We’ve all been subject to it, particularly if you, like I am, am outspoken, use spicy language, can be very outré in our opinions and are completely untrammeled when it comes to making fun of themselves. Such things can and do cause others to be deeply uncomfortable.

While on one hand I don’t suggest tamping down your flame, I do recommend what Barry writes in this great article:

This is damned good advice.

Here’s why: rage, revenge acts (writing vicious comments intended to do the most damage) and other acts do terrible, terrible harm. To us, far more than to the target of our discontent.

Rage unfortunately feels deeply satisfying. I happen to like John Wick movies (okay, I’m sick) but that’s entertainment. They can be appealing, just as getting even can be appealing, because rage touches on the same receptors for pleasure in the brain. We want the bad guy to get his due.

It’s intensely righteous.

Briefly.

Then after the dust settles we realize how much damage we’ve done. The ugly words we’ve hurled come through our bodies and minds like sharp barbed wire. The irresponsible, reckless hate tears US apart inside. A deep part of us knows awful guilt for hurting our fellow human. Nobody is hurt more than we are for the damage we do others. We can bleed for a very long time.

In a funny but true side story, my mother had quite the temper. If she stubbed her toe on a concrete curb, she would hurl around in fury and kick the curb to get even with it. To get even with a piece of concrete. Like me she was a bruiser. Not only did this severely damage her feet but it tore her shoes to shreds. She never learned her lesson, that trying to punish innate and very hard objects wasn’t going to make her pain go away. I found this very funny, which made her even more angry.

This is precisely what happens to us when we seek to eviscerate those whom we believe have wronged us in some way. That person can’t do nearly the harm to us that we do to ourselves.

When the conditions of our lives involve significant stress and pain, as they can and do now, when those we love are vulnerable, pain builds up inside us. If you and I aren’t adept at finding ways to manage that stress, it will seek an unhealthy outlet.

An irresponsible outlet, if I may.

For to cascade even more pain on others who, like us, are treading water as best they can, is monumentally cruel.

Imagine, if you will, what would happen if all the nurses, doctors, first-responders and people who are daily putting their collective health and lives on the line for us suddenly decided to take their stress out on us as well. Since most of them don’t, I might suggest that if you want to see a superb example of personal and professional restraint, and immense courage, look no further.

My best male friend Dave, the fireman, handles his hurt with black humor. He’s got bad lungs from years of wildfire work, saving forests and lives. He’s compromised. Over sixty, and scared shitless. Yet as an EMT he is out on the front lines, like my nurse buddies. To deal with their stress, they use humor, and they lean on their fellow professionals with love.

Yesterday I wrote this piece about Courage:

I offer it again in case you bypassed it for this reason only: the invitation to be a bigger and better person to each other during these times is with us 24/7.

Barry offers this process in his article, above:

Wait for 24 hours to pass before you take action. That’s the hardest part.

When someone embarrasses, belittles, or angers you, it feels like an assault. It triggers an impulse to lash out. Recall my experience of getting dumped in 10th grade. I reacted reflexively to the embarrassment and hurt. There was no foresight, just a thirst for revenge. And when that fury evaporated, I felt embarrassed at my behaviour.

I appreciate his courage in calling out his own behavior. We’ve all done it. I’ve done it. At the highest level, I’m glad I did because I must see how easy it is to do harm to people who don’t deserve it. I must see my own culpability in creating pain. For if I can see how easy it is to behave badly, and I work very hard at not being That Person, then that is the precious opportunity to have empathy for others who commit the same crime of hurting others online and elsewhere.

I must see what I do. I must see my capacity for harm. I must see how that is a mirror to my inner world. If I am to be the person I wish to be in the world, it must stop with me. If someone causes me harm, I must NOT hurl it back with more pain than the sender intended in the first place.

IT MUST STOP WITH ME.

This is the very definition of Deep Work. Nobody else is responsible for the quality of our inner world. We are.

Barry’s ideas are great. These days I have gotten to the point where I no longer need fully 24 hours. I can write an angry response, dissipate my anger, then delete the piece. I take whatever is the healthiest action I can next. In the situation mentioned above, I did my level best to respond with kindness and courtesy but also to draw a boundary. I tried twice. What I got back was, well, unfortunate.

As I have written elsewhere, you and I cannot do others’ work for them. We can only do our own fixing, if you will. If our best attempts at kindness and communication bear no fruit, then let’s bear no malice, let that go, Block if necessary, and move on.

This way we keep ourselves intact. We allow them to find their own way. As with all of us, they have Deep Work to do. As do you. As do I. The beauty of such things is that this Work is far, far more ultimately satisfying and uplifting than any momentary revenge backlash.

Let it go. Just, let it go. Barry writes:

The next day you’ll respond with class and grace, that is, if you decide it’s even worth responding at all.

Choice is power. Extraordinary power. Let’s choose courage.