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No More Shoulding

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Years ago, in a conversation with my friend Miho Kahn, she talked about the main way people mess up when trying to comfort others. “They just ‘should’ all over you,” she said. Rather than listening and simply being with the other person in their pain, people want to fix it. “You should this, you should that.” It reminds me now of Brene Brown’s thoughts on the difference between empathy and sympathy.

I’ve noticed that my shoulding is a problem even when I’m not attempting to comfort someone grieving. It’s a problem in my normal speech patterns. It causes unneeded tension in my marriage. I get excited about something, and I want to encourage Lisa to try it, and it slips out. For example, “you should try this putrified shark.” (For the record, I have never told Lisa she should try putrified shark, though I did make the mistake of trying it myself.)

“Should” might imply moral imperative

When talking about morality, the word “should” makes sense. “You should behave this way, and if you don’t you should feel bad and/or be punished.” When we’re children, our parents use words like “should” to express how we’ll be expected to behave in the world. We should share the things we have; we should be kind to others with our actions and our words; we shouldn’t throw temper tantrums when we don’t get our way.

But what do I mean when I tell Lisa she should try putrified shark? Do I believe in some way that she has a moral compulsion to? Definitely not! But the use of the word carries those connotations anyway. Being told I should do something has the almost unavoidable effect of making me feel at least a little bit guilty when I don’t do it.

In everyday speech, I’ve noticed that there’s always a better way to say something. A truer way to say it. Rather than “you should try putrified shark,” I can use many other, more expressive statements:

  • “You’d remember eating this putrified shark for the rest of your life.”
  • “I think you would enjoy having tried putrified shark.”
  • “The trying of this disgusting shark — this is a memory I would love for us to both share.”
  • “Wow! This putrified shark is delicious! Do you want some?” (But remember, you should be honest!)
  • “Experiences are like Pokémon — the more you collect the better. It’s the perfect time to add ‘tasting putrified shark’ to your Pokédex!”
“Tasting Putrified Shark” has been registered to your Pokédex!

Any of those are closer to what I’d actually mean by “you should try it.” At its best, saying someone should do something is probably shorthand for a more interesting statement. At its worst, it makes someone feel sort of guilty and belittled, perhaps like they’re being treated as a child.

So I’ve decided to stop saying it

I go back and forth on whether I care about not using it for myself. “I should go for a run,” “Should I read that book?” — these could definitely be turned into more interesting statements. “I’d feel less grumpy if I went for a run,” “Do you think I’d get a lot out of reading that book?” Would the should-less statements inspire me more? Maybe.

But I definitely want to stop using it on other people.

So I added it to my Entire.Life calendar. I wish I’d added it as a plan: “Stop saying should.” Then Entire.Life would have sent me my weekly inspiration email and asked “did you accomplish this?” And I could have said, “no, still working on it,” and pressed the 😴 button to snooze it until next week. Boy, I’d have to hit snooze on this one a lot! Changing habitual speech patterns is a difficult endeavor.

But even though I didn’t add it before I undertook the endeavor, it will still be interesting to know when I started this experiment. A year from now, I’ll get the weekly inspiration email that says “a year ago, you decided you wanted to stop shoulding people.” And maybe I’ll think, “Wow, I can’t imagine telling people they should do things anymore, I’m glad I tried that, thanks past-me!” Or maybe, as with the no-shampoo experiment, I’ll think, “that was a fun experiment, and now I know why it doesn’t make sense as a long-term lifestyle.”

In any case, I like the idea of using my life calendar to not only track events, but also to track my personal behavior-change initiatives. Not just “what I’ve done,” but also “how I’ve grown.”

How about you? Have you used your Entire.Life calendar to track goals? Do you think it’s a good platform for such things? We’d love to hear what you think!

And finally, if you’ve tried putrified shark, consider adding it to your Entire.Life calendar! Suggested emoji: 😖

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Published in Entire Life

Entire.Life — the intentional living app. This is your past. This is your future. All at once, looking back at you. Make it awesome.

Written by Chad Ostrowski

The cool summer starlight; the warm winter snow. I am interested in illegal fictions.

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