Below are excerpts from the new release from EWTN Publishing, available here.

‘Why Is He Like This?’

A video features a young man who, early one morning, comes across what looks to be an ordinary pair of sunglasses.

Donning them, he soon finds they are anything but ordinary, as they reveal to him others’ inner struggles. His restaurant server at breakfast botches his order. The glasses tell him: Earlier she was forced to leave her ill child with a neighbor. Upon the man’s seeing a densely tattooed, disheveled teenager, the glasses reveal that she had to choose premature self-reliance over a chaotic home life. On appearances alone, the man’s blind judgment would have been hasty and hard. Without the glasses, he wouldn’t have been aware that the driver cutting him off was in a panicked rush to get his son to the emergency room. Instead, he would have bristled with “What’s his problem?”

One doesn’t need soul-searching sunglasses to know that most everyone walks through life with hidden hurts and struggles. It’s often the explanation, though not always obvious, to “Why is he like this?”

A Difficult Person

As said, a difficult person doesn’t typically see himself as difficult or, for sure, as difficult as you see him. If he has an inkling, he’s slow to admit it. As he sees it, his ways are understandable, given others’ ways. Or, “It’s not me; it’s you.”

“Difficult” has a companion: discontent. When one is difficult toward others, his own life reflects it. Interpersonal friction and personal serenity don’t mesh well.

Do you know a difficult someone? Is she content? Positive? Easygoing? How quickly does she overreact to frustrations or when others don’t act as she wishes? Put another way, does she trouble you, but even more so, does she trouble herself?

I once led a Bible study at a local jail. Few of the guys had an upbringing anywhere close to my own. What I was given, most weren’t — two good parents, morals, discipline, opportunities. I’d heard the aphorism: “There but for the grace of God go I.” Inside that jail, I saw it up close.

Could the guys’ language be coarse? Of course. Could tempers erupt? Abruptly. Did some follow the code: Get what you can however? Followed. Still, as they talked about their family life — stretching the term — I heard how their yesterday reached into their today.

This is not to call bad good or right wrong. Or to accept a moral whatever. It is to recognize how a history can shape a personality. The more you know and understand another’s past and present — who they are and why — the softer your judgment of that person. And softer judgment accompanies a better relationship.

First Impressions

Early impressions are best left flexible, open to adjustment in light of later impressions. Reversing a quick judgment — “I was wrong in thinking that about her” — can restart a new relationship and change the course of one heading downhill.

Juries weigh intent when reaching a verdict. A deliberate offense courts a heavier sentence than does one lacking intent, though both may have led to similar outcomes.

Likewise, when we judge that someone has purposefully wronged us, our sentence is certain: Guilty as charged.

When we judge he acted from ignorance, weakness, or some personal struggle, we are slower to convict. Discerning intent, though, can be tough. The best answer may be a definitive “I don’t know.” At the least, it gives another the same benefit of the doubt we would want.

You’re Convinced

You’re convinced that someone doesn’t like you all that much. You’re now sensitive to any signs that reinforce that. The mindset is, “She doesn’t care for me,” so if she says something that can be heard either as benign or as a subtle slam, the favored interpretation is subtle slam. In fact, it’s not meant so, but the past pushes in that direction. It just adds another blemish, a scar, if you will, on the relationship.

Prematurely assuming ill intent is rooted in a universal instinct: self-preservation. We are innately wired to survive, to evade assaults on our well-being. These assaults come no longer from lions and tigers and bears — oh my — but more from lies and taunts and blame. 

Hypervigilance thus becomes a shield against threatening motives.

“He seems to enjoy needling me.” “I think she wants to make me feel bad.” “His look says, ‘In your face!’” The prime motive is to annoy me, to frustrate me, to put me down. Counselor types give this a name: personalization.

“My grandson’s birthday party was set for a Sunday. I received the invitation from my daughter-in-law in the mail the Friday before. It looks like she doesn’t care if I’m there or not.”

Is this the only explanation? Or even the likely one?

Does daughter-in-law have a pattern of late planning? Is she frazzled by juggling family and job? Was the party date changed at the last minute? Were all invites sent out together? Was the mail delayed?

“I don’t know, but I do know I’m not her favorite person. We have a shaky history.” 

When the motive is unclear, it’s tempting to jump right to personalizing, to interpret current conduct in light of the past’s. Each situation, however, needs to be judged independently. History doesn’t always establish the present motive. And letting it do so can keep a shaky history from healing.

“I was slammed and didn’t even know it. What does that say about me?” Maybe not much.

Personalization acts to protect the self. No one wants to look naïve or oblivious or foolish. Less personalizing, though, shows a more solid self-image. It shows the self-confidence to just shrug. 

Sometimes a shrug is the most insightful response.

Suppose Grandma is right. Daughter-in-law invited her but really didn’t want to. Her “slip up” was, in fact, a personal slight. Does this now justify personalizing?

That depends. (Don’t you just love psychologists?) Does daughter-in-law slight others, too? Is this her way, along with a “Who cares” attitude? If so, the snub says more about daughter-in-law than Grandma. Taking behavior personally is questionable if that’s how someone treats others too.

It’s a typical workday morning for me. Two colleagues are chatting in the hallway. I offer a cheery “Morning”; one colleague smiles back, and the other launches a look saying, “You’re interrupting us.” What’s that about? What did I do to you? My simple “Morning” is rude?

In my office, I hunt for motives. Maybe she was deep in crisis — family, health, work. Maybe her friend was upset about something, and she was being supportive. Maybe the Muzak piped in overhead was annoying.

Each I soon discard. Neither looked distressed. They were laughing. And the Muzak was playing “What the world needs now is love, sweet love.”

What else? Does she dislike me, and I’m too oblivious to notice? Have I done or said something recently to bother her?

I’m at a loss. Nevertheless, my first instinct was to take her face personally. “What is it about me that prompted her stare glare?” Whether the explanation lay with (a) me, (b) her, (c) the situation, or (d) all of the above is unknown.

Then too, maybe tomorrow she’ll give me a cheery, “Good morning,” oblivious to yesterday’s reception. All my personalizing wasted.

“Harmony likes to push my buttons.” “Angel seems to get a kick out of arguing with me.” “Hector enjoys badgering me.” 

So lament parents personalizing a child’s exasperating conduct.

Most kids don’t plot how to best distress their parents.

Overall, their motives are pretty basic — “I felt like it.” “I had the opportunity.” “I thought for sure I could get away with it.” Kids are moved to do what they want to do, and if a parent gets upset in the process, well, that’s just a by-product. …

The counsel is not “Don’t read motives.” Even if you tried not to, you couldn’t succeed. Searching for what moves others is an ingrained social drive. The counsel is “Be cautious when you do read motives. Realize you could be wrong — by a little or a lot.” Take it from one who reads motives for a career: Relationships can severely, sometimes irreparably, be marred by imputing motives that don’t exist.

Be More Easygoing

Easygoing is easy giving.

Relationships are loaded with daily opportunities to be more easygoing. Few demand major concessions or wholesale personality compromises. Rather, they are small surrenders in pursuit of a smoother relationship.

“Comfort zone” is a pop-psychology catchphrase. It means to stay in a settled emotional state where one feels in control of his circumstances. Remaining within one’s comfort zone is psychologically safe. Venturing too far out risks distress or anxiety. So goes the theory.

The comfort zone of a follower of Jesus should be broad and open to expanding.

Why the ‘Almost’?

How to Get Along with Everybody. Why isn’t that this book’s title? Why the “Almost”? Don’t most people want to get along with everybody or, better said, everybody they want to get along with? “Almost” is in the title for this reason: Getting along with everybody is not doable. It’s a promise that can’t be fulfilled.

That said, most of us will admit we can do better at getting along with others. We can give more compliments, listen longer, be more easygoing, less offendable, quicker to forgive. We can upset ourselves less over their ways and upset them less with ours.

Still, best efforts don’t guarantee another will reciprocate. You reach out; they don’t reach back. And the reasons may not be all that clear. …

It’s a rare life completely free of any bruised or broken relationships. It’s a far from perfect world with far from perfect people. While not everyone is seemingly moved by prayers, prayers act in unknown and mysterious ways, far beyond our immediate vision. More than forty years as a psychologist has given me plenty of time to watch relationships that looked to be irreconcilable restored.

Personal peace follows from living in the balance between hope and reality.

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