Memo To Emily Post: You're Fired

by Linda Decker

Last week, I was grocery shopping when an acquaintance walked up to me, and after some polite conversation, said, “I would love to take you to lunch.” Out of years of indoctrination, I robotically replied, “How sweet of you, that’d be very nice!” I mistakenly thought that she was singing out of the same Manners Hymnbook that I was, and that this encounter would go like meeting a new neighbor while idly trimming the pansies in the front yard. “Oh, yes, we must get together some day...” Such encounters are usually followed by a discreet self-satisfaction (“I fulfilled my neighborly obligation by acting friendly and interested.”), and no action.

But, to my secret discomfort, the person immediately followed up with, “How about Wednesday?” Honestly, I really didn’t want to spend social time with her. I paused my face in the “how nice!” position, and tuned into my racing mind. I could not locate an acceptable excuse for gracefully declining enough to quickly pull it off. My honesty took a hasty break, and my brain shifted into “don’t hurt her feelings” mode.

As the background me watched with mounting horror, my mouth delivered this astounding reply, “Great! Would 12:00 work for you?” She agreed. Oh, God strike me dead where I stand now, before I have to endure an entire hour with this person. I can think of ten other places I’d rather be, but Emily Post had assumed control of my body again, and look what she’s gotten me into! Well, I rationalized, I can take an hour of anything.

What heavy baggage comes along with being polite. The basic premise of manners (being sensitive to people’s feelings and sensible when you speak and act), while good advice from one viewpoint, can rob us of our authenticity and honesty if we let it. It can become a crutch, an excuse for not acting in harmony with our true feelings. I ask myself, how often have I committed such benign acts of dishonesty as agreeing to go places I really don’t want to go, or to do things I am not comfortable with?

How refreshing it would be to just say with complete honesty that I did not wish to make that date. But firing Emily Post would be a frightening thought to people who grew up with a dog-eared, well-used copy of her Manners Manifesto on the bookshelf. We’ve surrounded ourselves with automatic instructions on how to act in every conceivable situation. We’ve replaced innocent, compassionate sincerity with the illusion that we’re secure in the knowledge of the “right thing to do,” and convinced ourselves this will buy us acceptance and approval.

Emily’s full of Fun Facts To Know And Tell (“The soup spoon goes to the right of the teaspoon, Alex!” Two points! (applause) What do we have for our winner, Johnny?) On a deeper level, consider this: What are you giving up by not being your honest self with the people you know? In the name of being socially acceptable, how many times have you refrained from telling your truth?

A friend of mine told me a story recently that brought this point home for me. A colleague of ours had invited my friend to organize an event. My friend felt uncomfortable working with this person, and spent a couple of days deeply considering how to handle the situation. She felt the same compassionate desire that I’d felt, not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings, and recognized that she felt an indoctrinated compulsion to accept the invitation.

Later, she met again with the person and simply stated, clearly and from her heart, that she did not feel comfortable with arranging an event with her. The colleague received the honest communication just as it had been intended: she did not take it personally, but recognized it as a statement of my friend’s truthful position.

My friend burst into tears as she walked away from the encounter. Not from regret. From the sheer relief of being compassionately truthful. The exhilaration of having the courage to show up and be fully present with the truth of the situation was overwhelmingly fresh and satisfying.

“As disagreeable as it may be to contemplate, the dishonesty I encounter in the world is a reflection of my own pretense...We are all dishonest as long as we do not compassionately work to correct the collective dishonesty of the world.

How? ...in our personal lives and our dealings with others, set a courageous example of honesty—even when it means exposing ourselves to the criticism and judgments of pretenders. Honesty is the path that leads to happiness.

“Becoming honest is an act of renewal. When we summon the courage to take ownership of our experiences, to see them just as they are, to feel them, we will recover the blueprints of our lives...we will face our fears...the result of living honestly is feeling and sharing—compassion and empathy!”

—Harry Palmer, Living Deliberately

Ask yourself, “Would I like living in a world where everyone is as honest as I am?” The surprising thing is how warmly others react when we are confident enough to be real. What a precious lesson. Give yourself this gift and be vigilant to opportunities to bring a little more compassion and honesty into your life, step by daily step. Let’s meet there, out beyond right and wrong, as we explore the path to being real for each other.

return to issue 11.1 | return to Journal archives | top of page

All content copyright 2008, Star’s Edge, Inc. EPC is a service mark of Star's Edge, Inc. Avatar®, ReSurfacing®, Thoughtstorm®, Love Precious Humanity®, Enlightened Planetary Civilization® and Star’s Edge International® are registered trademarks of Star’s Edge, Inc. All rights reserved.