Have a Nice Day

Since high school, my best friend Heather and I have commented on the way people can ask how you're doing and not really care about the answer. It seems if you don't answer the prompt with the select few "acceptable" answers, you'll be upsetting the balance of the universe.

"How are you?" -- when we ask this, of strangers, coworkers and even friends, we expect the following:

"I'm doing well, how are you?"

"I'm doing great!"

"Living the dream!"

And so on. Anything indicating life is kicking your ass may garner a look, or questions, but in truth we aren't always doing great. The problem is, we aren't prepared to deal with less than great. I don't know if our custom of asking people how they're doing is solely for the appearance of caring or something else. I wonder if it's a shortcut, one of those phrases learned for anyone learning a new language, to invite those new speakers to respond in the approved way spelled out in a text book. I wonder if this ties into the explanation of why Americans smile so much, as a cultural nonverbal shorthand to bond and let others know everything is okay in a multicultural society. All I know is, I'm tired of it.

Add to this throwaway lines like, "Have a nice day!" and "TGIF," or one I received today, from a fellow veteran, telling me to "Enjoy your Memorial Day!" (with a string of emojis, of course). These sentiments are not ill intended, but they are thoughtless, and closed off in a way that leaves no room for the recipient to say, "But I'm actually not having a nice day."

This well meaning but disconnecting way of communicating extends to how we deal with grief. "Sending my condolences," "I'm sorry for your loss," and "Let me know if you need anything" are those well meaning phases we use when someone we know has experienced the death of someone close to them. We have this way of wanting to show we care but not wanting to get too close to the pain. We don't want to feel uncomfortable, and feelings that aren't coded as positive make us uncomfortable.

The problem with being well meaning but unwilling to be uncomfortable is the missed opportunity to connect. When we are locked into this way of relating but not really connecting, we isolate ourselves. We send the unspoken message that it isn't safe to confide in us because we don't actually want to hear about what's really going on, we just want to give the appearance that we want to hear about it. This cultural agreement we've made, compounded by the highlight reel effect of social media may explain the isolation and loneliness so many people experience.

If someone asks me how I'm doing, and I'm not doing well, but I don't feel safe sharing that, and in fact, I feel like something is wrong with me because I'm not doing well. How, in a world that tells you to be yourself, be true to yourself, be honest, but not like that, can we change how we interact with each other, and do so in a mindful way that requires us to stay still and prepare to receive the real answer, even when it's less than "great?"