Sides of the Story
Sometimes it's easy to only see our own point of view. It's the default mode. It takes an effort to look at someone and say with sincerity "I want to hear your side of the story." Usually, we're only willing to hear someone else's side of the story when we're backed into a corner.
Interesting how that works. It helps us hang on to our own narrative and shields us from confronting our biases.
Yet, when we take a deep breath and open ourselves to hearing another person's side of the story, we invite compassion and understanding into our relationships, into our lives, into our selves.
So why is it so incredibly hard to do?
We claim we're interested in each other. We claim we're interested in the truth. We claim we're interested in connecting. Yet, so often when the story doesn't fit the narrative in our hearts and minds, our defenses go up and we shut out the other story.
I tell myself time and again I'm going to be open to the other side of the story, yet my fear of getting fooled starts building those fortresses around me often before I even hear a word. I'm looking for the holes. I'm looking for the attempt to trick me. I'm looking for the deception. I latch on to the first instance that seems even the slightest bit unbelievable, and I tear it apart. Yet, I really do believe I want to hear your side of the story....
And then I find myself wading slowly back in, inviting you to share, asking you to explain, listening through the fog of what I'm sure I know.
I desperately want your side of the story to match my side of the story, so it feels like a betrayal when it doesn't.
I wonder if you feel the same way when you hear my side of the story.
From your reaction, I'd say you probably do...
Yet, I wonder if you recognize your own defensiveness.
From your reaction, I really can't tell.
So how do we take my side of the story and your side of the story and find a way to create our side of the story? There has to be a way. I know there does. But, I also know I can't do it alone.
Interesting how that works. It helps us hang on to our own narrative and shields us from confronting our biases.
Yet, when we take a deep breath and open ourselves to hearing another person's side of the story, we invite compassion and understanding into our relationships, into our lives, into our selves.
So why is it so incredibly hard to do?
We claim we're interested in each other. We claim we're interested in the truth. We claim we're interested in connecting. Yet, so often when the story doesn't fit the narrative in our hearts and minds, our defenses go up and we shut out the other story.
I tell myself time and again I'm going to be open to the other side of the story, yet my fear of getting fooled starts building those fortresses around me often before I even hear a word. I'm looking for the holes. I'm looking for the attempt to trick me. I'm looking for the deception. I latch on to the first instance that seems even the slightest bit unbelievable, and I tear it apart. Yet, I really do believe I want to hear your side of the story....
And then I find myself wading slowly back in, inviting you to share, asking you to explain, listening through the fog of what I'm sure I know.
I desperately want your side of the story to match my side of the story, so it feels like a betrayal when it doesn't.
I wonder if you feel the same way when you hear my side of the story.
From your reaction, I'd say you probably do...
Yet, I wonder if you recognize your own defensiveness.
From your reaction, I really can't tell.
So how do we take my side of the story and your side of the story and find a way to create our side of the story? There has to be a way. I know there does. But, I also know I can't do it alone.
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