I regularly test my ability to add value to a social interaction and note the myriad ways in which I profit from the exchange in return.
This is different than just showing up to tout my amazingness to anyone who will listen (or can’t escape) and expecting that, by the end of the sales pitch, I have a new bestie.
Which I also do.
Convincing someone to buy me as a product versus contributing to someone’s experience of me and, maybe through me, the world, is the easier, and more socially acceptable, connectivity approach to implement. However, the former scenario bullies and belies. Whereas the latter scenario creates, and has the capacity to sustain, long-term social profitability.
Assuming all goes to plan.
Consciously contributing to others’ experiences plays the long game. It’s a social profit strategy that requires practice and patience (patience with yourself and with others). It’s not always easy to initiate, nor is it always easy to maintain. And our plans—to drink less caffeine, to save more money, to add more value and less noise to our personal interactions—often get tested in ways we have no practice with or patience for. Plus, let’s face it, we really just like to sell ourselves. I mean, we’re SO amazing! Right?
Yet when we’re too wrapped up in the pitch, making it all about collecting more besties, instead of creating more connections, we miss
- Learning that someone paints, is afraid to paint and share, but shares anyway.
- Allowing the awe of this other’s apparent fearlessness reframe how fearlessness might look if hung on the walls of our own lives.
- Feeling inspired to fish a canvas out of a dumpster, then digging out an old brush and paint set and beginning.
(Yeah, a lot went metaphysically down at The Best Yard Sale in the History of Yard Sales.)
We miss out on being respected and admired and loved by those who really matter. We miss out on sharing our respect, admiration and love with those we want to matter. We miss out on what it means to matter to someone else.
We go socially bankrupt.
The work of always being “on”; of getting and keeping attention at all costs; of finding and fulfilling base needs with no thought of conducting a long-term cost-benefit analysis; of constantly concerning oneself with what to get and how to get it, rather than with what to give and how to give it (and being delightfully surprised by what’s earned in return); of handing out hotdogs and tolerance, instead of heart-to-hearts and trust, eventually sends us packing with no severance pay or self-respect.
Am I over-thinking this? Probably. OK, let’s break it down:
I don’t need everyone to like me (that’s not always true), but I certainly don’t want anyone to feel worse about themselves after spending time with me (that’s not always true either). So I try my bestie best not to be a jackass in conversation (unless I’ve had too much whiskey, in which case I don’t try at all) and utterly exhaust my listener with a lot of false bravado (my bravado is never false). Instead, I listen for cues that direct me toward a profitable exchange that serves me and my companion (uh, not always true, see whiskey comment).
The next time you have a conversation with anyone—and I do mean anyone—look him or her in the eye and think, “How can I add value to this interaction, to this other’s experience in this moment, of me and the world?” If that thought leaves you with nothing to say, then saying nothing may be just enough. For not only is there value in saying the right thing, there is value in saying nothing.
"Skinny Man" by Gregory Hoyt, artist and co-proprietor of The Best Yard Sale in the History of Yard Sales.
The Darlings I Killed (Or Sentences That Got The Ax)
Convincing someone to buy me as a product versus contributing to someone’s experience of me and, maybe through me, the world, is the easier, and more socially acceptable, baloney sandwich to eat. (“Baloney sandwich” is one of my favorite placeholders.)
… of needing to right the wrongs done to us by past persons by pushing present people away …
Holy kittens and bees, I feel good about myself when I talk to someone who doesn’t talk about themselves all the time. (I hated letting this one go.)
Plus, let’s face it, we really just like to make it all about us. Right then. Right there.
Are we gonna smooch or what? (I heard this on a recent date. Can you guess whether there was a profitable outcome?)