“What’s the matter?”

[You - X]

In other words, “Why so discouraged, demoralized, listless?”
Or, “Why so angry, upset , disgruntled?”
Or, “Why so lethargic, lazy, sluggish?”

Sometimes the answer to "What’s the matter?" is simply, “Everything!”

And that’s okay.

By the way, asking the question is a terribly ineffective way to find out what truly is behind someone’s emotional state because “the matter” suggests one’s experience is unacceptable. And as Mr. Rogers said, if it’s unacceptable, then it’s unmentionable, and if it’s unmentionable, then it’s unmanageable. By uttering the question, the person asking is becoming part of the problem.

Friends, while sometimes everything seems to be the matter . . .
You are not.

“You’ll learn"

[You - IX]

Alternatives to “You’ll learn” are:
“You haven’t arrived yet”
“Maturity will come with time”
“You haven’t gone through it yet”
“You’re ignorant”
or
“I have more insight than you”
“I’m further along than you are”
"Been there, done that"

I had someone look me dead in the eye once and tell me to listen to their reasoning because they had been through the stage I’m in already and know what’s on the other side. I, they insisted, am blind to it. They were technically correct . . . and unwise.

Wisdom has perspective. But wisdom also knows the radiant truth found in each and every encounter. Sure, people have been where you are before. But you haven’t! And that’s what makes it unlike anything else.

The encounters are never duplicated.
The learning should never stop.

The encounter and the learning are the point.

“Are you kidding me?”

[You - VIII]

The question, "Are you kidding me?" is one of the most condescending things one can be asked. It really has nothing to do with joking, humor, or playfulness. It’s an attack on one’s personhood. Using the word “kidding” is playful language to say something very hurtful, which just makes it sting even more: "You are not worth being taken seriously.”

One response is this: "No, actually. I’m not kidding. I’m serious as a surgeon.” It answers the literal question, but it doesn’t address the infraction, the offense.

To address the infraction, I must first ask myself if I am worth being taken seriously by . . . me. “Are you kidding me?” hurts particularly badly when it is an echo of the same question I ask myself—when I think of myself as unworthy.

An older and wiser friend told me once that you know you are comfortable in your own skin if from this day froward nothing changed about you and you still found delight in who’ve you become.

Perhaps the best response to the offensive question is not a response at all but a quiet delight in who I am. Now. This very moment.

Not who I am trying to become, where I am trying to go, or what I am trying to do. But who I am.

(Oh, and yes, I take myself seriously.)

“Where did you come from?”

[You - VII]

The tongue-in-cheek question Where did you come from? is often a hurtful statement about belonging.

Obviously, you’re from here, Toronto, Tuscan, or anywhere else you may have grown up. But that’s not the message being sent. The message is this: You don’t quite fit in, which means you’re not from here!

This question stings, not because it’s true, but because it’s familiar. And it’s familiar because people like us ask it of ourselves often.

Here’s the bad news: It will always sting. And people will keep asking because exclusion is a powerful tool for the insecure. (And the more subtle the exclusion, the better it hides the insecurity.)

Here’s the good news: There's never been an advancement in society,
growth in culture,
invention in tech,
discovery in science,
fresh idea in art, and
expansion of faith
by anyone (or any team) that totally felt at home here.

Consider the question Where did you come from? a compliment. It’s one of the best indicators you’re thinking creatively and knocking on the door of something new.

“When will you take it seriously?”

[You - VI]

You stay up until 2 am improvising on the piano. Regardless of talent, you have wonder and imagination and inspiration . . . and people take note—more than one family member has asked you to play at their wedding.

You paint politically inspired art. And give them away by the dozens. People begin to notice and make requests.

You tinker for months on end in your garage to figure our how to get 20 extra horsepower out of your 1975 mustang. Coworkers notice and ask for help.

You come alive in the garden and take special interest in crossing-pollinating tomato plants. You develop a blight-resistant hybrid . . . friends and neighbors offer to buy your vegetables.

And then the question comes: When will you take it seriously?

In other words, When will you go to music school, pursue art at the university level, get certified as a mechanic, or sell at the farmers market?

"Taking something seriously” means getting the certification, getting the degree, generating an income, keeping the books, and eventually making a career out of it. It means, “When are your going to submit that thing you love to measurements of legitimacy and success that we are all familiar and comfortable with?”

And underneath the question, lurking in it’s shadow, is this admission: We don’t know what to do with raw, uninhibited, child-like passion.

Maybe it’s the measurements of legitimacy and success that need to adjust. Not your love for painting. Or gardening.

At the very least, you owe it to yourself to answer: “I already am.”