The Wanderer's Corner

Category: Personal

  • Why Compliance Does Not Equal Love

    Why Compliance Does Not Equal Love

    com·pli·ance

    /kəmˈplīəns/

    noun

    1. 1.the action or fact of complying with a wish or command.

    Compliance is not love.

    Often, when the term “boundaries” is used in the common lexicon, what the person means is not boundaries, but compliance. They are upset that the person is not acting in accordance with his/her wishes.

    Parents get upset at children for not following their commands.

    Husbands are upset that their instructions weren’t met. Wives are frustrated that they have to repeat themselves over and over again and still there is no follow through on the action.

    Yet, compliance is not love.

    Just because someone follows orders does not represent love. We believe that if they only did the dishes, or folded the laundry, or turn over when tapped on the shoulder, it means they love us and more importantly, that they care for us.

    Years ago, Matthew Fray wrote a fantastic article about the difference between following through on an action out of love and following through on an action out of compliance.

    Because in life, we have to have a level of conformity to survive.

    In our closest relationships, it is difficult to remember, and more importantly understand, that the person is a distinct being from us even if we gave birth to them. We follow social norms, cues from friends and family about what is acceptable behavior. In fact, it has been studied quite extensively in social psychology of why everyday people are willing to inflict horrible atrocities on their fellow humans. There are times when we have to comply for our own safety – RUN, DUCK, DON’T TOUCH THE STOVE!!! The act of complying often can save our lives, certain exceptions notwithstanding.

    However in our most intimate relationships, we often want our partner, our children, our parents, our siblings to meld to our expectations. “If she loved me, she would…” “If he cared about me, he would…” “Why can’t my children…”

    But compliance is not love.

    How many people comply out of obligation, to avoid a fight, to not have to receive a lecture? Personally, several of my relationships that fell apart when I no longer complied out of obligation. These people, who claimed to love me, were upset when I no longer complied with whatever request they had of my time, my energy, and my actions. I often check myself to see if I am trying to get people to comply with my requests and frequently, I have to see that while I may want someone to take an action, they are not required to. I have to grant them the same autonomy I want for myself. This has meant taking a step back or voicing my wants.

    Compliance, conformity, confirmation are all rooted in the same need for control. This need for control, especially of women in heterosexual relationships, is the basis of all arguments for submission of women to men.

    For example, do you really want my opinion, or do you want confirmation that you are correct? Is that why you get upset when I disagree and offer a different opinion? If you come to trauma dump, did you get frustrated when I no longer allowed you to passively confirm your opinions and in fact offered my own take on the situation in which you could no longer center yourself as a victim?

    While the focus of these thoughts are on intimate relationships, the idea of compliance has far larger consequences for society at large, especially during this time.

    If you find yourself upset, frustrated, or angry because someone you love is not complying with your wishes ask yourself – do you want love or do you want control?

    Photo by Siora Photography on Unsplash

  • “Chaos and Bloodshed Are Not a Solution”

    “Chaos and Bloodshed Are Not a Solution”

    “Don’t let them lead you astray” – random townsperson in Hamilton, The Musical

    This year didn’t begin with bloodshed, but it did start with chaos. And then errupted into shambles. Without a solution. But I was going astray and felt under attack.

    I have an issue with focus. I know it’s due to my life-long battle with depression which has manifested itself sometimes mild, sometimes none and sometimes severe. I have worked out a methodology for how to stay motivated and on-task to be able to complete what I need to get done, but I realize that it requires me to have a place outside of my house to just separate church and state. And an organization I volunteer with graciously gave me a set of keys and office to borrow. And it was GLORIOUS. Until…

    The keys were lost. They were thrown away through carelessness (and someone who wouldn’t take responsibility for their actions). So I lost an anchor point. A point that was getting me to where I wanted to be in so many ways.
    And then…
    During a zoom call, I see the area code and “medical center” and I knew my father was hospitalized. Storms prevented me from an immediate trip down. I knew I was going to be a wreck. I haven’t been down to South Carolina in almost seven years since my great uncle transitioned. That’s another story.

    But I knew. I knew what was coming. As an only child, I grew up in this role and I am still an expert on making my marks and cues. But I was tired. The stage was familiar and I knew every inch of it. I could enter from stage right and hit my lines. Resonate my voice to elicit the right emotions.

    And so I prepared my lines and chaos reigned. All of my mistakes over the last few years were laid to me, transperant without any further ability to hide from them. All of the things I tried to bury, or excuse or say “tomorrow, I’ll get to that” could no longer be kicked down the road. It was here. And I was grateful.

    Because it happened now during the new moon. It happened at the beginning of the year as I was struggling with my intentions for the year. It happened so that I can get to a plan to get back to me.

    Veracity

    Gather

    Balance

    Pleasure

    Conspire

    It is now the time to tame chaos.

  • Finding a Shovel

    Finding a Shovel

    I looked up the definition of overwhelmed –

    “bury or drown beneath a huge mass.”

    and to say I screamed at the laptop “You don’t know my life” is an understatement as I think about the mountains in my life – unfolded laundry, emails to send, blogs to write, dashboards to complete, runs to schedule and on it goes.

    When we discuss procrastination, it is always discussed as some failing. As if we enjoy the moments and hours that waste away when we know if we pulled on our big girl drawers and cranked it out, it would get done. Or that we are afraid of failing. Or we don’t know how to schedule tasks. And yes, that may be true. But as I have gotten older and realized more about the impacts of depression and anxiety on my performance, I realize that I never knew how to deal with being buried beneath the mass of how daunting it can seem. Like there is never another side to get to.

    The first step was acknowledgement. That I actually was overwhelmed. The second step was trying to figure out how to fight inertia and so I started asking myself

    “What is the smallest task I can do to simply get started?”

    And so now when I have a huge task that feels like it too much of something, I look for a shovel. I use that shovel break it down in to the smallest, simplest steps I can. My shovel may be time. For example, when folding laundry, it may simply be I will fold all the clothes I can while the next two songs play. My shovel for a complex analysis at work it may be – 1) open the Excel spreadsheet 2) label the columns 3) label the rows and so on.

    Because we create these grand, huge challenges in our head and everything is always a series of step after step Every single computer program, regardless of complexity, can be traced back to a series of 0s and 1s.

    Because the challenge in procrastination is not that you are a loser, it’s not that you don’t have self control, or discipline.

    It could simply be you need to find the right size shovel to dig your way out.