how to know a person: informal thoughts, commute listen
this book, along with What Happened to You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing by Oprah Winfrey and Bruce D. Perry books have just floated onto my Libby app and slid into my lap, and the themes overlap (unintended rhyme), perfect excuse to put the audiobook on, curl up and take a …
one paves accessibility and the other dives deeper (while still being very accessible, as it is co-authored by Oprah after all with an esteemed child psychiatrist), although they are not meant to be conjunctional. but, these works can be grouped thematically, just on their observation of human complexity. sometimes there are certain thoughts and analyses that linger and spill over and carry on, outside of boundaries or boxes.
i thought about this spectrum of psychology and psychopathology and psychiatry, similar to the dedicated career roles that fulfill each area, from being a counsellor, a therapist, to a psychologist, to a psychiatrist, and the numerous roles that fall in between (nurses, occupational therapists, speech language pathologists, recreational therapists, etc.) it’s funny because we have made certain aspects of psych so incredibly low-barrier and everyday to understand (peppered all over social media), and that has increased awareness in a way that catches people’s attention quickly in some aspects (like the concept of ‘trauma’), but still, there is much depth to it, and much mystery, that it is very difficult to simplify such profound concepts that tie together the event, experience, and effect.
psychiatry is a different field because psychopathology does not fit into neat boxes. from other parts of medicine, we learned that abnormal values will be highlighted as high or low (*subject to some relativity), but in psychiatry, it’s entirely different. in a psychiatrist’s head, sometimes it’s very crisp and firm and clear where the edges of normal are, (which keeps one sane), while a truly good psychiatrist understands the ‘relativity’ more and is able to draw lines and trace contours with some grace.
in general, i thought David Brooks did a good job explaining various stories weaving them together, and explaining how one needs to be an illuminator to make others feel seen, heard, and understood. a lot of these are very precise soft skills. there were other parts that i found too perfectly moderate, or not relative enough, leaning too much into an American self-help tone, results-driven and absolute, or trying too hard, but i can’t recall too many details at this time as it was a commute listen. but i do agree that David Brooks writes well, hedges things carefully with narratives and examples, and ha, is actually an American-Canadian cultural commentator.
The real act of, say, building a friendship or creating a community involves performing a series of small, concrete social actions well: disagreeing without poisoning the relationship; revealing vulnerability at the appropriate pace; being a good listener; knowing how to end a conversation gracefully; knowing how to ask for and offer forgiveness; knowing how to let someone down without breaking their heart; knowing how to sit with someone who is suffering; knowing how to host a gathering where everyone feels embraced; knowing how to see things from another’s point of view
^ i agree.
The worst kinds of questions are the ones that don’t involve a surrender of power, that evaluate: Where did you go to college? What neighborhood do you live in? What do you do? They imply, “I’m about to judge you.” Closed questions are also bad questions. Instead of surrendering power, the questioner is imposing a limit on how the question can be answered. For example, if you mention your mother and I ask, “Were you close?,” then I’ve limited your description of your relationship with your mother to the close/distant frame. It’s better to ask, “How is your mother?” That gives the answerer the freedom to go as deep or as shallow as he wants. A third sure way to shut down conversations is to ask vague questions, like “How’s it going?” or “What’s up?” These questions are impossible to answer. They’re another way of saying, “I’m greeting you, but I don’t actually want you to answer.” Humble questions are open-ended. They’re encouraging the other person to take control and take the conversation where they want it to go. These are questions that begin with phrases like “How did you…,” “What’s it like…,” “Tell me about…,” and “In what ways…”
good tips to think about for interviewing, but also just talking to people.
Humanities which teaches us what goes on in the minds of other people, have become marginalized. And the life spent on social media is not exactly helping people learn these skills. On social media, you can have the illusion of social contact, without performing the gestures that communicate trust, care, and affection. On social media, stimulation replaces intimacy. There is judgment everywhere and understanding nowhere. In this age of creeping dehomanization, I have become obsessed with social skills. How to get better at treating people with consideration. How to get better at understanding the people right around us. I’ve come to believe that the quality of our lives, and the health of our society depends to a large degree on how well we treat each other in the minute interactions of daily lives. And all these different skills rest on one foundational skill, the ability to understand what another person is going through. There is one skill that lies at the heart of a healthy person, school, community, or society, the ability to see someone else deeply and make them feel seen. To accurately know another person. And to let them feel valued, heard, and understood. That is the ultimate gift you can give to another, or give yourself.
agree that social media creates illusions.
A person who is looking for beauty is likely to find wonders, while a person looking for threats will find danger. A person who beams warmth brings out the glowing sides of the people she meets, while a person who conveys formality can meet the same people and find them stiff and detached.
it’s always a dance, always two-way. it is the art of seeing others deeply, and being deeply seen (which comes as a bonus to the art itself).
Perhaps to really know another person, you have to have a glimmer of how they experience the world. To know someone, you have to know how they know you. The only word that I can think of in the English language that captures my mental process of that instance is “beholding”. She was at the door, the light blazing behind her, and I was beholding her. There is no such thing as an ordinary person. When you’re beholding someone, you’re seeing the richness of this particular human consciousness, the full symphony, how they perceive and create their life. I don’t know how to tell you how delicious that moment felt — warm, intimate, profound, it was the bliss of human connection. A lot of brilliant writers and thinkers don’t have any sense for how humans operate — to be able to understand people, and to be able to present for them in their experience, that is the most important thing in the world.
i like this quote a lot and i think this creates many further concepts but ultimately the upstream solution to every relational conflict boils down to this (in some aspect), and ‘beholding’ makes life / relationships richer.
How to Know a Person reminded me that every conversation is a chance to practice this art to see and be seen. and maybe, if enough of us practice it, the distance between will get just a little smaller.
