Separate events and interpretation

A young man in a hooded sweatshirt knocks at your door, hiding his face, looking nervously around. “Hey, hey, yeah, can I come in? I, uh, need a glass of water.” You say no, and don’t let him in. A well-dressed old lady knocks at your door. “I’m so sorry, my dear, but I was walking home and started feeling faint. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?” You say yes of course, let her in, and get her a glass of water. After she thanks you and leaves, you notice your wallet is gone. Language can be sneaky like this. Some statements are clearly suspicious, so you don’t let them pass. Others sound trustworthy, so you let them in with your defenses down. But their hidden judgements will steal your clarity if you don’t stop them at the door. Your friend says, “My mother abandoned me.” Stop. Get the actual facts. Turns out his mother had two full-time jobs, so he was raised by his grandmother in the same town, and stayed with his mother on weekends. So he’s really saying that he felt abandoned. It helps both of you distinguish between the facts and the feelings. Another friend says someone is needy, stubborn, and inappropriate, as if those are traits. But the person judging is usually just expressing their unmet expectations. So the statement tells you more about the accuser, and almost nothing about the accused. Imagine the job of a police clerk, filing an incident report by listening to all the emotionally charged accusations to record the few, unbiased, observable events. Feelings matter. To address them, we have to distinguish them. Get the dry facts, with no interpretation. What’s left are the feelings and meanings. We can’t change what happened, but we can change the meaning we give it, which changes how we feel about it.