I like that people are trying their best. It helps me a) maintain my humanity about the world, and b) appreciate people in my day-to-day interactions.
I didn’t always think this way, but my views changed when I became a psychologist and, more specifically, specialised – in part – in Forensic psychology. I quite often find myself looking around at people who happen to be occupying the same moment in space and time (at the time of writing, this happens to be a soft play, full of kids and parents on a miserable, wet winter Sunday morning) and it can often just hit me that we’re all just doing the best we can in life.
Now, this blanket statement might not sit well with some of you, good readers; because you might say, “Well, yes, I’m trying my best, but the assholes of the world clearly aren’t. They don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” And I’d argue (as I’m always inclined to do) that it’s not quite so clear-cut.
Now, before entering into a discussion that entertains the idea that everyone is trying their best, it’s worth noting that because I take the stance that everyone is doing the best they can, that doesn’t excuse awful behaviour: from political decisions to criminal behaviours, to interpersonal abuse, to rejections and slights. A conversation (or consideration) that humans are – on the whole – trying their best does not negate accountability, nor does it mean that while some may still be trying their best, they don’t still cause harm or hurt.
I know, I know. It seems counterintuitive but stick with me on this.
From a Schema Therapy perspective, we all start our life wanting our basic needs met; even as infants, we know what we want and need (without consciously knowing it). It’s why we cry when we don’t get our needs met, and will actively seek them out from our caregivers. These needs are things like safety, nurturance, independence, boundaries, and the freedom to play and express ourselves in a way that feels authentic. This continues into adulthood – most of us arguably still want safety, nurturance, independence, boundaries, and the freedom to play and express ourselves in a way that feels authentic.
Now, depending on how your early life went, shaped by how you were parented, what your school experiences were like, the socio-economic context you grew up in, and the country and culture you were born into, all of which will have an impact on how easy it is for you to go about getting your needs met. But, seeing as we don’t yet live in a Eutopia where everyone’s needs are equally considered, it is likely that you may have experienced some form of adversity, challenge, or trauma that has made it difficult (and in some respects downright impossible) to meet some or all your needs. It also depends on whether we have been given the skills and knowledge to attain our needs or taught that, at times, we might have to sacrifice our needs for those of others for a brief period of time (if any of you reading this are parents, you’ll know what I mean).
But even if working to get your needs met seems (and is) hard, we still try. It’s ingrained in us to do this in some shape or form. Even if it just means - at the most extreme end of things - trying to survive from day to day. And this is what I mean by we are all trying our best.
At the most basic level, we are all here, on this earth, just trying to meet our basic needs in some shape or form. Some of us have had the cards stacked against us more than others and have to work harder to get those met. While others of us have been more fortunate in that respect and it is easier to do. And we’re all imperfect. Therefore, the ways in which we might try and get those needs met might not be the best. Sometimes, they might not be the most socially appropriate or even legal. And while that isn’t OK, at the same time, that is one of the consequences of living in a society that is, in the most rudimentary terms, divided into the “haves” and “have nots”.
But deep down, we have a common humanity in the sense that we all started out as children, young infants, with the same inherent requirements for safety, nurturance, independence… (you know what I mean, I am not going to go through the whole list again). And even in this soft play, on a miserable, wintery Sunday morning, there is a whole stack of parents trying to get different needs met. Some are looking for a connection with their kids, and some for a connection with friends who also have kids (the number of parents who I’ve seen meet here for a coffee and a catch-up while their children lose their minds amongst the sensory overload that is a soft play leads me to believe that soft play coffee dates are quite a common thing). Some are looking for respite – a break from having to entertain their children at home and letting them run free, burning off energy. Some you can just see love soft play as much as their children; seeing grown-ass adults bounding through the tiered maze of foam-wrapped chaos with their kids is endearing to see (and absolutely not something I, myself, think of as fun, but each to their own I say), and it’s possible they are meeting their need of play and expression. Some look exhausted. Like soft play hell is the last place they want to be – but they are here, possibly putting some of their own needs on hold for now while they meet the needs of their kids.
But all of them, all of us – you, me, and even the assholes of the world (who I can appreciate you might not care too much about) – we’re all just trying our best in the best way we know how with the skills and knowledge we have at our disposal. I’m not here to preach who you should or shouldn’t judge - and you are absolutely within your right to judge people how you see fit, based on your own moral and ethical compasses. At the same time, taking a moment to think about how we’re all just trying to get through life - which, let’s be honest, a life that none of us asked to be born into - might help you hold a moment’s empathy and compassion for someone else.
Maybe even yourself.
All the best,
Nice-ish.