Don't Hear What I Say, Hear What I Mean
Sometimes our actions don't align with our intent. We try to prevent worry but brush over important details, causing more concern. We want to avoid burdening family members, but when they don't show up for us, we foster resentment. We work to meet a deadline but steamroll our team in the process, eroding trust. Each action, though well intended, produced undesirable results.
How do we evaluate our own effectiveness? It's hard to assess because we use different measuring sticks.
We judge others by their actions. We judge ourselves by our intent.
This causes us to justify and minimize the impact of our choices because we evaluate them through the lens of what we meant. When our decisions produce undesirable results, we try to correct the receiver's interpretation before we evaluate our own actions. Even when we know execution was poor, we expect grace. We say, "Don't hear what I say, hear what I mean."
The irony is we rarely extend that same grace to others. People don't show up to the meeting, so they're non-committal. He was late, so he's irresponsible. She canceled plans, so she's flakey. We've likely been on both sides. I've been absent and I've had others not show up. I've been late and I've been left waiting.
Character does impact behavior, and repeated behavior reveals character. But could it be that sometimes poor results come from good intention with poor execution?
We watch what others do and decide who they are. We know who we are and excuse what we do.
And yet we're quick to assign character flaws despite limited context, no knowledge of intent, and no experience in someone else's season of life. It's hypocritical, but it underscores so many of our relationships.
When we don't own our choices, we fail to see our ineffectiveness. When we fail to see our ineffectiveness, we assume other people are the problem.
Left unchecked, we rewrite the narratives of the people we love. Even when the assumed flaws aren't true, we filter future actions through what we already believe. Our rationale becomes a hype man, eroding relationships unintentionally.
When others offend us, do we let them explain or assign intent for them? Each exchange fuels an ongoing narrative. It's either reflective of reality or it cultivates disillusionment. It either moves us toward each other or protects us from each other.
People are accountable for their actions, and there are times when execution shifts from poor to destructive or abusive. I'm not speaking to that. I'm speaking to our everyday relationships, where we often have mutually desired goals but conflicting execution. In those interactions, are we aware of how we judge and expect to be judged in return?
If we want different results, we have to check our narratives and ask:
When our actions stray from what we intended, are we humble enough to adjust?
When we receive recurring critical feedback, do we own the impact of our actions?
When conflict arises, do we demand others accept our intent while disregarding theirs?
I've learned this the hard way. While I can't control outcomes, evaluating the effectiveness of my own actions has helped me assume responsibility instead of excusing them. It’s helped me change course more quickly when results stray from what I intended. It’s allowed me to stop rewriting character based on assumptions and operate with more peace in my relationships by extending grace when execution doesn't meet my expectations.
