Early in my training for pastoral care, my supervisor, working with the verbatims of my interactions with patients, would unearth my interior monologue hiding behind our dialogues. He showed me how discouraged I could make myself if I battered myself with the "Why" question. I decided to try to remove it from my vocabulary.
The improvements were almost immediate. If I was late to an appointment, I asked myself “How did this unfold?” Instead of grilling myself with “Why?” I began to ask “What was the payoff for me to leave so little cushion in my scheduling?”
If a client or patient complained about a spouse, I would ask “How did you respond?" or “What was he doing right before you became angry?”
But never “Why?”
It worked wonders!
In matters of behavior and emotion, “why” seems to encourage intellectualization, and leads away from the real events and feelings that a person wants to see and hear more clearly. Personally, "Why?" puts me on the defensive, as though I’m being attacked. For some reason, “Why?” sends me on a frantic search for a “silver bullet,” a lone cause for discomfort. For many, “Why?” triggers almost a panic‑like reaction to make myself safe from an enemy of some kind.
It seems to affect lots of people that way. Check it out on yourself.
Situations are like an arrow shot at my heart. But if it lands at my feet, I can choose not to bend over, not to pick it up, and stab myself with it.
Sylvia Boorstein
Pay Attention, for Goodness' Sake
Much sheer effort goes into avoiding the truth; left to itself, it sweeps debris out like the tide.
Fay Weldon
Auto da Fay: A Memoir
No matter how dark, the hand always knows the way to the mouth.
Idomu Proverb (Nigeria)
