Friday, January 23, 2015

Scribbles from the Heart #4


There is something ominous about the response ‘I’m fine.’ When someone tells you he or she is fine, he or she is definitely not. If he or she were truly ‘fine,’ then the response would ring along the lines of, “I’m great! Fantastic!” And, as he or she proceeds to tell you all about how he or she is faring, you would hear enthusiasm in his or her voice and observe the apparent glow in his or her eyes that says, ‘I’m truly fine.’

Otherwise, ‘I’m fine’ is an obvious lie. It is an excuse said to momentarily evade your question. I do not know why someone would lie about something as simple as how he or she is faring. Maybe your question came off as insincere and probing. Maybe your question is sincere, but you just happen to be the one that person chose not to rant to. Maybe you are the chosen one, that person’s best friend, meant to listen to all kinds of troubles, and yet, he or she may not want to worry you with his or her troubles. Maybe he or she is afraid that you may not care enough to listen to the whole story, for once he or she starts, he or she may not be able to stop until the very end.

Whatever the specific reason(s) may be, I believe we all know what those reason(s) could be. Some points in our life, we had also lied to someone about how we were faring. We had unspeakable reasons or circumstances that forced us to lie. And, other times, we simply lied because we felt like doing so. To protect other people or ourselves, we are not even sure at times. Because we are not sure, we tend to stop prompting that person for more information. (Mind you, prompting for information and probing for gossips are two separate subjects.) We are afraid to visit our haunted past because we are selfish people. Therefore, we avoid asking further questions that may elicit intimate discussions that could make us vulnerable. As a result, we fail to sincerely show our concerns and play our role as worthy family members or friends. We tell that person, “If you ever need a shoulder to lean or cry on, then let me know because I’ll always be here for you.”

In the end, our words are empty promises of comfort, for in times when that person needs us the most, we are not there. We question, we receive a response, and then we evade. Our poor decisions and actions, unknowingly, reinforces the given response ‘I’m fine.’ As time pass, the cycle becomes the norm and we passively accept it. Even in the most crucial moment when we need to break the cycle, we do not. And so, that person goes on lying about how he or she is faring while we turn our back to the news. We hear it and we see it, but we still chose to block it out.

Why?

We are afraid. We know that a silent plea resonates louder than a vocal cry. Yet, we are still afraid that one day our silent plea will not be heard. Therefore, if we can pretend that we cannot see and cannot hear, then maybe, just maybe, our silent plea would not become one of the many voices that are not heard. However, despite your fear, please take note of the ominous response ‘I’m fine.’ Take a moment to ask that person, who may have just lied to you, whether or not he or she is really ‘fine.’ Patiently listen to that person’s troubles and sincerely show your concerns. Do not let the silent plea behind the resonating words go unheard.

Because, when we say, “I’m fine,” we really mean, “I’m not fine. Please help me.”


© N. Hli 2015 All rights reserved.
[Date written: January 2015]

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