Posts Tagged ‘trust’


By Mark E. Smith

Cognitive dissonance. Have you ever heard of it? Probably not, as it’s pretty much confined to psychology jargon. Yet, it impacts each of us in countless ways, and in understanding how it functions in our everyday lives, it can save us hassle and heartache in avoiding those who engage in it.

In simple terms, cognitive dissonance is when our beliefs are not reflected by our actions. For example, most smokers know that smoking will eventually harm them; yet, they still smoke. You might say, cognitive dissonance is the inexplicable logic of doing something contrary to one’s beliefs: Smoking is bad for me, but I smoke.

Fortunately, not everyone engages in cognitive dissonance. People on diets skip bad food for healthier choices – and, therefore, their beliefs and actions are in harmony, not dissonance. In fact, it’s said that, as evolved humans, we naturally seek cognitive consistency, where our beliefs and actions align, and if they don’t, mechanisms like guilt, shame, and remorse come in to get us back on track. That is, doing what’s right is more instinctive than doing what’s wrong or negating our values.

Of course, cognitive consistency – where our actions reflect our beliefs – is vital to living an integrity-based life, where we honor those around us by doing what we say. However, beyond our own behavior, we need to do a much better job in surrounding ourselves with people of cognitive consistency rather than cognitive dissonance. We need to assess those around us based more on actions than words.

See, rule number one with cognitive dissonance is that there’s danger in trusting people who say one thing but do another. People who claim to love you do not hurt you (raise your hand if you’ve ever been in such a relationship or have known someone in such a relationship). Therefore, if you’re witnessing someone whose words don’t align with his or her actions, don’t let it slide – there’s danger in dealing with such a person.

Rule number two is to look for actions that reinforce words before placing too much emphasis on an individual’s character. People engaging in cognitive dissonance will promise you the world, with no ability or intention to live up to those promises. My friends who participate in online dating share the universal experience of connecting with amazing people who come across via messaging and texts as “the one,” but then disappear when it’s time for an in-person date. Why does this happen?

The answer is, it’s an online form of cognitive dissonance. Anyone can say anything online, with no actions to back it up. When we encounter someone in the real world, we intrinsically know at least something about him or her, so it’s much tougher to get fooled (or “catfished,” as they say online), as opposed to only speaking to someone through the web. If a thoracic surgeon chats you up online, but consistently finds reasons not to meet for coffee – so many emergency hospital calls! – what are the odds that the person is telling the truth, as you see no actions to substantiate the words? However, if the cute teller at your bank asks you on a date, you already know he or she is truly a bank teller, where you’re witnessing actions, so there’s at least some known authenticity.

In the corporate world, a real problem is “professional interviewees.” These are individuals who have a golden tongue toward selling themselves, but never professionally execute all of the talents they boast. The fact is, in high-performance positions, it can take six months to one year to see real results or failings – and that’s right around the time too-good-to-be-true employees jump ship to the next unsuspecting company (read that, when their cognitive dissonance is shown). To address this, astute companies look for performance-proven queues in resumes, as well as hold performance-based interviews, where claims are reasonably able to be substantiated.

There’s likewise a lot to be said surrounding cognitive dissonance and the words I love you in our culture. People are quick to say those words – easy utterances of sound – but are not so consistent in putting actions behind them. We can say those words to our spouses and children all day long, but if we’re not actively engaged in their lives in loving ways, do those words truly have meaning? I say I love you to my wife and daughters a lot, but it’s my demonstrations of love toward them that creates meaning to the words. Saying I love you doesn’t create love; engaging in loving does.

The examples could continue, and I’m sure you have your own that you’ve experienced and learned from. Yet, here’s what it all comes down to: Actions are an absolute, while words can waiver.

To truly know someone, let us not merely listen to words, but authenticate one’s character via observing one’s actions. We all find ourselves in vulnerable spots, where words can say exactly what we want to hear. However, if the words aren’t substantiated with actions – especially when the dissonance causes us harm of any kind – it’s time to break ties with such people in our lives. We deserve the reciprocation of accountable actions, not hollow words.

At the same time, we owe it to all around us to be as harmonious as possible with our own behavior, where we honor others with actions that live up to our words. So often our own behavior sets the tone of others’, and we must be authentic if we wish others to be authentic. It’s easy to point at someone and say, He’s exhibiting cognitive dissonance! Yet, let us also honestly look inward to ensure that we have cognitive consistency in our own behavior, as that’s ultimately where it all begins.

It’s cliché and true: Actions speak louder than words. As Stephen Covey puts it, “What you do has far greater impact than what you say.”

OUR_STORIES

By Mark E. Smith

When I entered San Francisco State University’s creative writing program some two decades ago, I did so with one goal in mind – to be a better writer. After all, writing is a technical craft – not unlike painting or music – and if you want to get better at the craft, you expand your skill set. And, I wanted to possess the largest skill set possible so that, as a writer, I could write about virtually any topic, in any form. If writing was carpentry, I wanted the skills to build anything.

Upon my first week in the program, I realized it wasn’t what I expected. The fact was, I quickly learned that the true craft of writing wasn’t about technical skills at all. Yes, as students, we’d long learned the formalities of writing, with more to come. However, what we were there to really learn was the power and universal impact of stories. We learned what it was like to be impoverished and black in the south under Jim Crow laws through Alice Walker. We learned what it was like being a disenfranchised white, middle-aged male through Charles Bukowski. And, we learned what it was like to be a teenage heroin addict through Jim Carol. The stories went on and on, and we learned that every one has a story – ones of universal impact. We learned that writing wasn’t just about a skill set, but more so a deep acknowledgment of the human condition we all share.

As students, we were required to write with courage and vulnerability, to share our stories. Writing workshops, where you critique each others’ pieces, were cathartic, safe places where we could write and share the stories in our lives. The beautiful twenty-something who seemed to have it all wrote about her struggles with self harm, cutting her thighs with razor blades. The silent guy in the army surplus jacket wrote about being raped in his high school locker room by three jocks. And the happy-go-lucky, surfer dude wrote about living on friends’ couches because he was disowned by his parents when he came out as gay. What it taught us was that everyone had a story – including ourselves – and the true craft of writing isn’t just about telling stories, but honoring them.

During that time, my twenties, I was struggling with a lot. I was trying to understand my identity as one with severe cerebral palsy, and struggling with the guilt of separating myself farther and farther from my dysfunctional family. When we go through these periods of our lives – deep emotional struggles – it’s impossible to not feel alone. It’s unfortunately intrinsic to the process. Yet, our individual struggles – read that, stories – are universal to the human condition, and whatever we’re feeling or have experienced, we’re not alone.

What I gained from attending the two-year creative writing program – and writing of my struggles in the process – was recognizing the importance and vulnerability in sharing our stories, as well as embracing those of others. While there’s a time and a place for light conversation, it’s in sharing our stories that truly connects us.

Since that time, not the writer in me, but the person in me, has lived a life of connecting with others – through stories. Of course, I’ve shared mine countless times, as cerebral palsy can’t be hidden and understandably can become a topic. However, what’s shaped my life are the stories that others – with trust, courage and vulnerability – have shared with me. See, I’ve learned that no one’s story is more or less significant than another, just different. And, we intrinsically relate to them all. Pain, joy, sadness, fear, courage, failure, success, heartache, love, guilt, pride, resentment, elation, self-doubt, confidence and on and are all emotions that we universally share. They unite us.

However, sharing our stories does more than unites us. The process has far more power. Sharing our stories can heal, uplift, inspire, empower, and most of all the process shows us we’re not alone.

I don’t know what your story is. Maybe it’s one you’re struggling with alone. Or, maybe it’s a story that can help another person in your situation. Share your story. Let it out to someone, somewhere, in a safe place, where I promise it will change both your lives. None of us need to be writers to be courageous and vulnerable in sharing our stories. We just need to be ourselves.

trust

By Mark E. Smith

Every week, I take a leap of faith on this blog and write essays that are often very personal and expose vulnerabilities about myself that I know can range from liberating to uncomfortable for readers. Yet, there’s a deep meaning and purpose to it all. Firstly, as a formally-trained writer, I was taught that if you’re truly going to write, you owe it to yourself and your reader to write with unflinching courage, to expose that which others may not dare, all in the name of integrity – the best writing is fearless and scary all at once. Secondly, there’s such power in universal experience, where if through sharing my own vulnerabilities I can help someone else embrace his or hers, realizing that none of us are alone in life’s challenges, that’s a tremendous privilege. I write to connect, and that demands unflinching honesty, candor and authenticity.

However, here’s what might surprise you: I don’t believe that this unyielding, wide-open form of trust should be practiced in our personal lives. The fact is, whether a child or a so-called hardened criminal, there’s a fragility within all of us – our inner-most vulnerabilities. And, they aren’t to be trusted with just anyone. We’re too valuable to risk handing over our emotions to those who may not honor, respect or deserve them.

Many of us know a lot of people, many of whom we call family and friends. For me, I can’t even count how many people I know. All are wonderful people. Yet, if you think about your own friends and family – as I do mine – how many have truly earned your trust to possess the capacity to treat your deepest vulnerabilities with the safety and security you deserve?

Chances are, not many. Unfortunately, we’ve often learned this in the most painful ways. We’ve shared our most vulnerable selves with someone, only to have that person attempt to hurt us with it later in scorn or judgement at the most opportune – make that, malicious – of times. True family and friends don’t use our vulnerabilities against us. Rather, true family and friends treat our vulnerabilities as sacred, those which are to be addressed with compassion, empathy and support.

So, how do we know with whom our deepest vulnerabilities are safe? For most of us, it’s a tiny fraction of those who we know, maybe only one or two people. And, the litmus test can take time, often years. See, true trust isn’t assumed; it’s earned, piece by piece. You share a little, see how that’s handled by someone over time, and if it’s honored, you share a little more, until ultimate trust is earned. Along the way, let us not be guarded, but aware, as if we witness the slightest violation of trust, it’s a sign to put on the emotional brakes and realize that person may be a loved family member or great friend, but not one who we can trust in our most sacred places – again, that’s reserved for those who’ve earned it.

By far the toughest practices of setting boundaries of who’s earned the privilege of being trusted with our deepest vulnerabilities is in romantic relationships because the emotions are so intense and the stakes are so high. In our desire to love and be loved, it’s far too easy to dismiss violations of our vulnerabilities. He only said it out of anger during our argument…. No, there’s never a reason or excuse to use someone’s vulnerabilities against him or her. That’s not love, its betrayal – and that never makes for a relationship you deserve. I married my wife for a lot of wonderful reasons, but the big one was our mutually-earned trust. Sure, we get mad and frustrated with each other, but we know that each other’s vulnerabilities are the sacred boundary line that we respect above all else. I’m also blessed that this ultimate sacred trust holds true with both my oldest daughter and my lifelong best friend.

When it comes to our vulnerabilities, let us seek comfort in others – it’s healing for the soul. However, let us likewise know that our vulnerabilities shouldn’t be entrusted to anyone except those worthy of respecting and cherishing such a gift. See, when it comes to ultimate trust, it’s quality, not quantity, that serves our heart.

LOVE

By Mark E. Smith

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way…. -Pablo Neruda

As we sat talking – strangers seated next to each other on an airplane – I told him what I know about love as I glanced out the window, clouds beneath us drifting by, uncertainties ahead, the unknowns of travel and life….

Love isn’t about chances, I told him. It’s about trust. When you see a woman walking toward you – maybe the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen – and you smile warmly, looking into her eyes, you trust that she’ll smile back. Maybe it’s a stranger, and the electricity of her eyes says it all. Or, maybe she’s someone you know, and the squeeze of her hug says it all. However it occurs, it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When you ask a woman out on a date – maybe you put it casually, Do you want to go grab something to eat? – it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When you’re the first to initiate any milestones – …Can I see you again? …Do you want to come in? …How about meeting my friends? …What would you think about us going away this weekend? …I’m falling in love with you… – it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When there’s a petty argument, a disagreement, moodiness, and you’re the first to say, I’m sorry, it’s not about chances, it’s about trust.

When either one of you is confused or scared by it all, don’t run away from the relationship, run toward it. And, if she says that she needs time and space – maybe she’s even told you, It’s over – you step back as a gentleman, as a guy who cares and understands, and you give her that time and space because love isn’t about chances, it’s about trust.

And, when you have her picture still on your dresser, looking at it with fond memories – her head tilted back, smiling – but she’s not calling you on the phone anymore, your heart isn’t aching but warmed. Because, love isn’t about chances, it’s about trust.

Now, I can’t tell you whether it’s over or not in such cases – sometimes love has a vagueness and timing of its own. The cadence of the heart can’t be explained. But, I can tell you this: Love isn’t about chances. It’s about trust. …And, if you’re going to love – truly, madly, deeply – you have to trust more than you ever thought possible.

And, the clouds – the clouds, looking like I could float on them – just kept drifting by….