One of the sayings in common use that irritates me like a gnat bite on the posterior is ‘If I were you I would…’ Well you’re not.
Like almost everyone I have my quirks, bugaboos, bugbears, and hang ups, and I have them for reasons. Some of which wouldn’t sound logical, but they are real.
For years I was asked why I preferred not to drive. “How can you not like driving!” I was managing that rather well for a most specific reason.
I’ve always been a person who knows when I’m ready to do something. When I was 17 my boyfriend at the time (ex husband) felt that I should learn to drive. He kept on and on and on about it.
Firstly, I liked walking. Secondly I was used to using public transport. Lastly, I didn’t want to. I was not interested. He had many reasons why that was wrong. I knew that I would wake up one day ready to learn to drive, and I would just do it.
When I was about ten I was learning to swim and I couldn’t get the timing right. I was the last one in my class to attempt the width. I walked into the swimming pool one day and the teacher asked me if I was ever going to try the width. I looked at the pool and the weirdest thing happened, it suddenly seemed to lose about six feet in length. It went from VERY long to easily doable. I can’t explain it better than that.
I just said “I’ll swim the length” he said he’d give me both certificates if I did. I did. I was waiting for that feeling to start my driving career. I didn’t get the chance though.
Out of time
The complication that confused my driving was that my father had a heart attack when I was 18. My brother and I were petrified, mum was light years ahead of that feeling. It was a truly frightening time.
Ex decided that it was a good idea to tell me how selfish I was, because if I’d learned to drive I could have driven my mother to St. Thomas’ Hospital – in London. That was not the place to send a beginner whose father was unknown amounts of unwell.
I did go for lessons, hated them, failed my test twice, got another instructor and passed.
Appropriate advice
Comes in the form of questions. Asking a person why they feel the way they do, then pulling that apart, digging down, expanding on the knowledge you gain, followed by suggesting that they do what they’ve just told you they want to do. Then explain what you’ve heard. That’s the way to give advice.
Our experience and reactions are never relevant to anyone else. The fact that we’re not afraid of driving means nothing to the person who is. It’s irrelevant.
We must also remember that things in the past may be operating on us via our subconscious. So we may not understand why we are the way we are, and if we don’t know then anything anyone else says is based on a guess, or observations we can’t make from the inside out. It will also be filtered through their life experience.
Knowing that other people loved driving helped me not at all. Not knowing and understanding me did not help them to tell me what to do with any degree of accuracy or relevance.
If ever you talk to someone who doesn’t understand themselves or where they’re coming from, it’s more than likely you don’t have a clue either. If you do it probably won’t mean anything to them anyway.
Just try to hear them.
To your happiness
Deb
Deb Hawken - Amorah 