Some random midnight insight...but good insight.

Why do people mistreat or hate those who help them?

Click on the link above to first read the answer by a commenter on quora, and then read my blog post below.

This is a very insightful response to the conundrum of being hated by others who we have helped. Many of us do what we do because we enjoy the act of giving, but then again, we may also be people-pleasers who constantly search for validation by helping others. And also, our help may be tinged with arrogance that we may not see in ourselves but others can. Haven't we all been there? I'm sure in experiencing someone's resentment towards us and wondering what we might have done to harm them may trouble us because we don't see any wrong in what we've done. Who knew that, in offering support to the friends/families we love in their times of need and who we thought would appreciate our support, we may have indirectly contributed to their feelings of helplessness, inadequacy, and shame? It doesn't mean we should stop offering to help them (or maybe we should stop?). Being aware of our privilege (education, skill set, etc) and knowing that we are all working within a classist, racist, ableist, homophobic, transphobic and patriarchal system that is not equitable and is consistently discriminatory towards communities that have been historically marginalized could help us better understand why the receivers of our help are no longer talking to us because perhaps our help reflected something they painfully desire(d) in themselves that they have never had access to due to social/structural inequalities/life circumstances. I don't know what it would take to restore these embittered relationships. Maybe it would take each of us to be brave by self-reflecting rather than pointing fingers, and developing/strengthening what I learned in my friend's Connections course based on what Brene Brown coined as 'Shame Resilience'. But after this long and babbling self-reflection of my own here, I wish you all a peaceful and restful night.

Review: One L: The Turbulent True Story of a First Year at Harvard Law School

One L: The Turbulent True Story of a First Year at Harvard Law School by Scott Turow
My rating: 5 of 5 stars



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Thoughts so far on Scott Turow's book One L: The Turbulent True Story of a First Year at Harvard Law School

Reading the book One L by Scott Turow, I found an interesting passage that expresses human nature's constant conflict between the desire to achieve our full potential free of any social expectations and the necessity to avoid being "too awesome" because of our interconnectedness with others, and how our success/awesomeness may negatively impact them. And yes, even law school students, despite the intense competition among their ranks, may also relinquish their competiteness for the greater good in some classroom situations, according to this book. It's both sad and heartening to know that some of us have this engrained disposition to set in motion our own failure (even though we know we can do better) in order to appease others who may not be enjoying the same privileges we are due to the ways in which various inequities have affected all of us and our relationships with one another. So, we fall because our connection to others becomes more important to sustain than our own advancement, which may possibly be, both, an act of solidarity and self-destruction.

Words to Remember You

Yellow lily. PHOTO BY SI.

I appreciate you.

I appreciate that you taught me the importance of being genuine.

I appreciate that you modeled honesty when things were not right to you.

I appreciate that you made an effort to rebuild bridges and give people a second chance.

I appreciate that you acted on your concern for others.

I appreciate that you presented your passion for creating networks of care and motivated people to act.

I appreciate that you were forgiving to others and to yourself.

I appreciate that you stood up against oppression and stuck to your principles.

I appreciate that you recognized your weaknesses but equally acknowledged your resilience.

I appreciate that you valued deep, strong, and lasting friendships.

I appreciate that you remained hopeful and had faith in your and other people’s capacity to offer care.

I appreciate that you put your trust in others and asked for support when you were hurting.

Because, my friend, you taught me that no person is an island.

Because, my friend, people may not have had the chance to see the WHOLE of you.

And so, I say these words about you and for you, because I don’t want to forget your humxnity.

I don’t want to forget your vision for a kinder, more loving, more just and forgiving world.

And if I am one among a few people who now hold your vision close, I will do my best to model its life-affirming and empowering message in my thoughts, in my actions, and in my spirit.

And one more thing I wish to say...

You made it after all, my friend, so fare thee well. 

Fare thee well. 

In memory of my brilliant friend.

Dear Losers of the World

Dear Losers of the World,

I hear you. I see you. I connect with you and all the mess you've created on this earth. All the mess you expect others to clear away for you. Dear Losers. I feel the pain of your anguish - that anguish, that dread that knows, without even looking in the mirror, that it was all done by YOU. All of it. All of it. Not a single other. Not a single wee tiny little mouse. All of it was done by YOU. 

And because of that, you're kinda feeling loser-ly tonight. You're kinda feeling like all confused, and hurt, because you can't make sense of the guilt, that gnawing, attacking, insulting, totally not-pc GUILT! When you feel like that, you feel helpless. You feel sorry for yourself and then you can feel the power within you slipping away - actually the power just kind of starts vanishing in the thick of it, in the thick of the unconscionable but in the thick of discovering the unconscionable which then becomes conscious to you. It becomes so real. Too real. And you can't escape the discomfort of it all. 

So, you try to scratch it out of you, to slit the skin so the poison burns your fragile exterior as it pours out with singular uncompromising speed, you do everything you can, that's within your power, which is actually no longer power, but sickening self-pity instead that will further devastate and deviate from what you were initially brought somewhere to do.

Dear Losers, I know your life, my life, are fragile webs and they can't always hold the impact of all the wrath we fling this way and that way like the steel blades of a hurricane slicing through hope, faith, peace, love, whatever. I know that in this experience of deep loser-li-ness, as you think thoughts of offing your putrid selves for the benefit of all Humxnkind and for the sake of the Animals who will no longer be murdered just to feed you, for the sake of every being. It is better to lose your life than the world having to lose the lives of so many others.

So, in that experience, in that moment when it's too late, when you've lost your life (could be both literally and figuretively), I want you to feel pride for having done what you did. For having the guts to go without a bang. For letting the world find out gradually that you are no longer with us. 

Because that's just what losers must do. They must off themselves and hope to the Almighty-master-fear-monger-himself-herself-their-selves that where their souls are heading/headed is a place where such worries are never entertained. And so, my dear Losers, you will find great peace in death. Great riches none like here on Earth. Great moments of joy and wonder, never fear or danger.

And I wonder, Dear Losers, what that would be like.