Tag: sorrow

Understanding inappropriate behaviour

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

When you see someone behaving inappropriately, what feelings arise in you and how do you approach the situation?

A friend was recently telling me about a party he attended several years ago where there was this one married man in his mid 40s, who was slightly drunk and was chatting up many of the other women in the room. My friend was furious at this guy’s behaviour. This guy appeared sleazy and was tarnishing an otherwise fun night out for everyone else there.

Several months later, my friend had a chance meeting with this ‘sleazy’ man at a community group meeting, and it turned out that the guy had a young daughter with a severe case of autism, where she woud continually bite into furniture, just like a dog. This guy was struggling to look after his daugher and he was simply acting out. He was not himself. His behaviour at the party was clearly inappropriate, which he himself had recognised, but had resorted to drinking his sorrows away and attempting to find an escape from the struggles of his day-to-day reality.

My friend, upon learning the truth of this guy’s situation, felt great sadness. In fact, even while recounting the story to me, he had tears rolling down his eyes. He had vowed that from that day on, he would never again let first impressions count so much for how he viewed the people in the world around him. He resolved to discover the underlying truth of the situation, the struggle, fear or sorrow that somebody is going through, and sought to make sense of their behaviour, nomatter how inappropriate they behaved.

Opening eyes to sorrow

I’m grateful my friend had shared that story with me. It helped to open my eyes to the reality of just how much our family, friends, neighbours and colleagues in the world around us struggle to survive in life and make sense of the situations they face.

It helped me to notice where I lack compassion and understanding, and the work I now need to do to better tolerate and care for those around us who just want acknowledgement that life IS tough.

When they behave inappropriately

It may be that someone is drunk and seemingly uncrontrollable at a party, drowning away their sorrows of a broken relationship or the sudden death of an adored spouse.

Perhaps they have their feet up on a seat in the bus with music blaring out of their earphones, attempting to drown out the troubles of the world around them, yet never really being able to mask the deafening noise of their minds.

It could be that they are a colleague being controlling yet hostile, attempting to take charge of their working environment while a messy divorce is crumbling the stability of family life from under their feet.

Responding to inappropriate behaviour

Step back a moment and just observe how they’re behaving. See it for what it is. Separate their actions from how you feel about it. Start with the assumption that their inappropriate behaviour is not who they are at their core.

But please don’t for one moment think I am suggesting that you just let them continue to behave in this way. We all have a responsibilty to help improve the world around us and give support to those who are silently crying out for it.

You may find that it is your duty to do something about it – perhaps to hear them out and if they ask for guidance, then to suggest something that may help them. It may also be your duty to take care of the people that their actions are affecting.

Life ain’t easy, not for any of us

It’s clearly evident that this life is not easy. Not for any one of us.

We may have health, but be lacking in money. We may have millions in the bank, but no real friends to trust and care for. We may have friends and plenty of money, but be struck with a terminal illness.

We may appear to have it all – health, wealth, friendship – but still the greed of wanting more, or the fear of it all inevitably coming to an end.

Life is certainly not easy, for any one of us.

Less expecting, more understanding

Perhaps with a little more care, compassion and understanding, the way we respond to other people’s behaviour will be based on a deeper appreciation of what they are going through and founded on the truth of the situation, rather than our own expectations and judgements.

Then and only then will we see the world for what it is, our life for what it is.

No more facades. No more hiding from the truth. No more disappointment from expectations not met.

Just more care, more compassion and more understanding.

Father’s shelter

Post written by Suraj Shah.

Father: one who provides, protects, and creates the environment for growth.

As young children in the playground at school, we would often boast “my daddy is the best!”

What makes your father the best?

When it comes to my dad, I certainly appreciate how he has always been our provider and protector. He has worked hard to keep a roof over our heads, whilst continuing to show his love through hugs and treats.

My earliest memory with dad was probably when I was 4 or 5 years old, when we were standing at the top of the staircase at our old house, and dad was teaching me how to tie my shoe laces. He did it with such care and patience.

A father’s shelter

Over the years, I remember dad for how he has:

  • taught my brother and I how to ride our bikes.
  • taught us how to put up lining paper and repaint the house.
  • taught us how to mow the lawn.
  • taught us how to swim.
  • helped us get onto our own two feet.

Even now, married and living in my own house, my dad recently guided me over the phone how to fix the overflowing toilet cistern. Previously I’d left it to dad to sort out issues to do with maintaining the house, but it’s a wonderful feeling to learn these DIY skills, whilst knowing that I can lean on dad if I need some guidance.

My father has certainly provided for us and protected us over the years, and even better, he has shown us how to become independent and even take care of those who depend on us.

Fear of losing dad

Within weeks of mum passing away in 2006, we had another death in the family.  On the day of mum’s uncle’s funeral, when the body was brought into the house and a pre-cremation ritual was taking place, I could see the sadness that the sons were facing at the loss of their father.

My dad was standing half way up the stairs, and at that moment, deep sorrow hit me.  I darted up the stairs, embraced dad and I started sobbing.  As tears flooded down my face, I held dad tighter and said “don’t leave so soon, I need you here”.  Fear of losing dad, a type of fear that I didn’t know I had, came to the surface, and I couldn’t stop sobbing.

Dad, having only recently lost his wife, did the best he could to comfort me.

Of course, I knew that anyone who is alive, will one day die.  I also knew that my father was not exempt from that.  So why did I sob so much?  Why did I fear the loss of my father? It was my attachment to dad.

Will dad always be around?

I take dad for granted.  I think he will always be around, will always be there to love me, to care for me, to protect me.

But going by how nature works, dad will not always be around.  One day he may face an accident, or he may die of natural causes, or he may change into someone I don’t recognise any more.  Anything could happen.

What would happen if I reduced my emotional attachment to my father?  Would I be free from pain if he is no longer around? I’m not talking about feeling numb, or loving him any less.  I’m talking about continuing to enhance the love I have for him, but minimise feelings of anger and emptiness that would arise from eventually losing him.

By taking the time to understand the true nature of reality, I would realise that my father, who was once born, will eventually die.  By thinking on this, I would learn to love my father, without being dependent on him being around. I would understand that a strong attachment to my dad is futile, but a bond of love without expectation, would help us have an enriching relationship for the time we have together.

So I continue to ask myself: “Should I reduce attachment to my father? Could I?  How?”

If your father is still with you, how would you answer this?  If your father is no longer around, what would you ask yourself?

(Photo courtesy of dariuszka)