One of my daily pleasures is reading the Ask Amy advice column in the Los Angeles Times.  Many readers ask for guidance on how to deal with difficult people in their lives. I call these difficult people, “Thorns.” They are the relatives, coworkers, or friends who are just not easy to deal with. We all know who they are.

Each of us has a unique way of interacting with others, but some of us are consistently Roses, and others are Thorns.  Some of us are easy going, while others are prickly, difficult, and quick to offend. We can also be either, or both, depending upon the situation.

I decided years ago that I would prefer to be a Rose when dealing with others. A Rose is sweet and dispenses delight.  A Thorn is painful and delivers discord. To a great extent we can decide at any given moment whether we will be a Rose, or a Thorn. For example, when a coworker, friend, or family member asks me for anything my standard answer is “yes.”  Why not?  We all have more than enough “no’s” in our lives, and I don’t want to add to that burden. And “yes” moves us forward, while “no” stops us dead in our tracks. “Yes” is open and receptive. “No,” is sharp and tinged with potential disappointment.

Also, in conversation I like to listen closely to what the other person is saying.  I always learn more when I listen than when I talk.  Many say I’m good at having conversations, when actually I’ve just been listening. Thorns don’t care what you have to say. They will often shut you down or are only interested in talking about themselves. Roses, on the other hand, want hear from you. They listen.

We all have opinions.  Was the Golden Globe award ceremony on national TV last night a great show, or was it only good, or was it terrible?  Everyone who watched it will have a different opinion. Our varied opinions on that are probably not too important in a relationship, but the way we deal with them are. Thorns will not accept your right to feel differently than they do about something. Roses will.

If we are judgmental about another person (“That was really stupid of you”) rather than supportive (“I’m so sorry you had that experience”) we are going to impact our relationships. Who would you rather be in a relationship with?

Rose or Thorn?

It’s up to you.

Alan

As I settle into my seat at the beginning of each commercial airline flight, I hear a short speech about how to buckle and release my seatbelt, how to use the flotation device in the event of a water landing, and (finally) the importance of putting on my own oxygen mask first, before assisting others.

The instruction to take care of myself first seems selfish, flying in the face of my parental instinct to place my children’s needs ahead of my own.  After all, if there isn’t enough food for the entire family, don’t we feed our children first?

So why isn’t it selfish to care for ourselves first in an airplane?  Because if you need an oxygen mask and don’t put yours on first, you may not be able to help your children later.

Taking this analogy to a deeper level, aren’t there many times when we should take care of ourselves first? How else will we have enough experience, knowledge, and money to help care for others, and still be there to help out with our grandchildren?

Years ago, a friend, her sister, and her teenage daughter, were swimming in the Pacific Ocean at a beach south of Carmel, California.  A sudden wave tumbled the daughter into the open sea.  Our friend immediately (and understandably) dove in to save her daughter.  Unfortunately she was swept out to sea herself, never to be seen again, while a second wave carried her daughter back onto the shore and safety.

For the past six months I have been walking at least 7,000 steps each day.  To achieve this, I am sometimes selfish with how I spend my time.  I will occasionally, and abruptly, terminate a conversation with a family member.

“I’ve got to get in 2,000 more steps today,” I say as I quickly stride away.

I am certainly taking care of myself, but I’m also taking care of my family because in putting my own needs first, I will be better able to care for them in the future.

I’m an unrepentant pragmatist.  I prefer actions that work.  If I’m ever on an airplane and the oxygen mask actually deploys in front of me, you can bet that I’ll put on my mask first, because sometimes taking care of ourselves is the most selfless act any of us can do.

Alan

We’ve all been there.

“Can I eat my desert now?”

“You can’t have desert until after you finish all of your spinach.”

This is a common, but appalling, parenting technique, and is much more likely to result in an argument rather than in the enjoyment of vegetables.  The child hears, “My parent is a dictator using their position to force me to eat something I hate (unless perhaps I scream loud enough or nag long enough), while they’ve already finished their apple pie.”

There is a concept of contract law known as a “condition precedent.”  In legal terms that means I have to mow your lawn first (the “condition precedent”) before you have the obligation to pay me. When parents insists that a child eat all of the spinach before their sweet reward, they are announcing a condition precedent.

If I was your neighbor you wouldn’t even consider approaching me with a brusque statement such as, “I won’t pay you until after you have completed mowing my lawn.” You are much more likely to gain my cooperation if you ask nicely.

Why not bring a positive attitude to our role as parents? I suggest we aspire to be gentle guides rather than dictators.

Each morning Daveen and I used to say to our young daughters, “You get to go to school today,” and never, “You have to go to school today.”  Now, when I remember to say it properly to my grandchildren, and when their parents aren’t hovering, I say, “Sure, you can enjoy your desert as soon as you finish this delicious spinach.  I’ll eat some more with you.”

Brute force produces a short-term reward. Positive reinforcement produces permanent change.  Also, life and lessons are more fun and memorable when your guide is gentle, rather than scary.

Let’s each express our positive care, respect, and encouragement whenever we offer guidance to those we love.

Alan