How to Become a Better Receiver
How Receiving Helps You Flourish
Our recent driving vacation from California to Colorado coincided with another breakout of wildfires in California. The smoke from the Creek Fire, in which our friends almost lost their home, blew into southern Colorado the next day, followed by a Labor Day snow storm with a sixty-degree temperature plunge. The parched Colorado soil opened its mouth and drank deeply. It was poised and ready to receive. People, however, are not always poised to receive.
In my previous post, I discussed five reasons it’s hard for us to receive, and this week offers practical ways to jump over the inner hurdles that keep us stuck in transactional relationships. How do we prepare our soil to drink deeply?
We have to remove the things that repel the rain. Only then can we grow and flourish, as this quote suggests:
“The parched earth can’t let in a life-giving rain if it is covered by plastic tarp.” (John Amodeo)
A way of understanding the presence of the plastic tarp is the idea of confirmation bias, which according to the Encyclopedia of Social Psychology is “the tendency to process information by looking for, or interpreting, information that is consistent with one’s existing beliefs.” It’s an unconscious process of ignoring information inconsistent with how we view ourselves and our lives. We end up remaining stuck in outdated perceptions of ourselves—something we concluded when we were high school freshmen, for instance—instead of revamping a sense of self that’s based on actual experience. It’s more familiar and convenient than undergoing change.
On a personal level, confirmation bias works in two ways: it reinforces high and low self-esteem. People naturally prefer feeling good about themselves, so they push away information that tells them they are not as intelligent, good-looking, or capable as they believe, whatever bolsters their high self-esteem. Contradictory information is too threatening and uncomfortable.
This also works with low self-esteem individuals, and that’s where I want to camp out for a moment. Such people receive plenty of affirmative cues—a smile, a compliment—from people, but the cues don’t stick. Why is this? It’s not because they miss the cues; it’s because they contradict their inner bias, which filters the cues with statements like,“That person must not know this subject/skill very well or he wouldn’t compliment me” or “She’s probably just being polite and saying nice things because she feels badly for me.” For people with low self-esteem, compliments—and offers to help—can actually trigger more self-doubt instead of enhancing confidence. They are thrown off-balance.
Confirmation bias ignores that self-esteem is often inaccurate, but it tends to be stable and difficult to change. We stubbornly cling to information which confirms our theories—however negative and counterproductive they are—rather than information which is contradictory. After all, there’s something about knowing who you are that’s comforting even if it’s outdated and inaccurate. Removing the tarp, however, requires us to challenge our own biases.
How do we ward off confirmation bias? The first step is to stop and think. Where am I going with this compliment, this offer of assistance? Why do I resist it? What’s the worst thing that could happen? What’s a better way? What if I allow myself to feel worthy of help? To receive without having something to offer in return? To care less about appearing weak or indebted? What if I move beyond my discomfort and change my perception of myself?
Do you ever feel awkward receiving words of honor and appreciation? I admire the grace and confidence of people who receive attention at events to honor them. They assess the uniqueness of the moment and savor it with humility. You can see it on their faces. How do you handle being the center of attention at a birthday party or another occasion? I notice people who know how much time to spend unwrapping a gift—they don’t rip it open; they comment on the beautiful paper and bow but don’t insist on untying every knot or keeping every shred of paper in tact—and who punctuate the silence with just the right amount and length of “Ohs,” offering a sincere and enthusiastic “Thank you!” in just the right tone that suggests it may be their favorite gift. Receiving well ends up being a gift to the giver.
Some of us are too used to doing things ourselves. I always linked my self-esteem to being responsible and working hard. Following my cancer diagnosis, as I was preparing for surgery, I wanted to tie up the loose ends of the school year and finish well. I worked hard into the evening the day before surgery. I was reaching for order and control for a brief moment before cancer would yank it away. Unfinished grading from an incomplete semester with less than two weeks remaining hit me on the way out. Someone else heard my students’ final orals. Someone else prepped them for finals. Someone else graded and recorded the grades. Maybe there’s a lesson in this, that success isn’t always the same as tidying and tying up every loose string. Ending well is admitting a lack of control, receiving help, being imperfect, and allowing others to cover for you when you simply can’t. Ending well is shifting trust from self to others and ultimately to God.
When I was on my back following surgery, I allowed myself to become a better receiver. I had to confront internal beliefs that I wasn’t worthy to receive and ask for help, that I was weak or indebted to others. I realized that not asking makes life even harder because it’s saying no to yourself and to the giver.
How do we remove the plastic tarp to allow compliments, help, and gifts to nourish our hard soil? First, we take a deep breath, which makes room for self-examination. Do I need to take in contradictory information and adjust outmoded beliefs about myself? Next, self-awareness expands our capacity to grow and produces a willingness to accept help with a sincere “thank you” instead of deflecting or minimizing the gift. Then, we push against the unwanted information that piles up to keep us from receiving more. Finally, we savor the moment: we smell and taste it; we feel the texture and and richness of the gift. Our appreciation moves us and the giver and creates a graceful dance.
It’s like a novice following a lead dancer. First the extended hand and step onto the dance floor despite protests like “I can’t dance” or “I have two left feet.” Then the press in the back, the nudge of the hand, the ease of synchronized footsteps, the subtle connections that spin into a smooth dance, executed with grace and skill that surprise you. “Maybe I’m not such a bad dancer after all,” you think to yourself. You thank the lead dancer for making it more effortless than you thought possible and promise yourself to never sit out a dance again.