Lately I have been reading what some might consider a classic tome: How to win friends and influence people. Although I have been familiar with the work and even owned a copy or two in my youth this is the first time I have set aside the time to read it. Although I am only a fourth of the way through I have thus far found myself reminded of the lesson I already knew but have let fall into disuse.
As early as my childhood I had always related well to adults. My mother always commented that I was, "quite the little charmer." but truth was more complicated than simple charm. Adults were comfortable around me, often too comfortable which lead to me being privy to discussions far beyond my years. My role in adult conversations was more often that of an active participant than a quiet observer. Towards the end of a particularly adult topic they would often blush at the realization that the content was more than likely inappropriate.
The biggest hurdle in maintaining a healthy separation in the relationship between adult an child was that adults genuinely liked talking to me. Conversely just as any child wants to "belong" I had a genuine interest in them. On numerous occasions I found myself privy to countless secrets and even confessions well beyond my years. Sadly my rapport with adults never seemed to translate to my relationship with my peers.
The affects of my upbringing had a lasting affect on my demeanor. People often felt comfortable around me or gravitated toward me. My friends can regale you with countless tales of complete strangers randomly approaching me to share some intimate detail of their lives with me as though we were old friends. Friends and family found it humorous and yet annoying at the same time.
One day a few years ago now everything just slowed down and eventually stopped. What changed? I just got tired and stopped caring about other people. In retrospect I think I just felt overwhelmed. I had enough to deal with in my life and families life without adding to the burden with other peoples problems. Admittedly I was / am being selfish. Everything began to come down to a simple estimation of time and effort per interaction.
Simple interactions like saying hello to an acquaintance meant giving them a piece of my time and my energy. Let alone factoring in the horrifying possibility that they may want to relate some trivial experience to me. That meant allocating even more time and effort to the conversation in addition to any afterthoughts or lingering considerations or the time it would take later to relate the experience to someone that inquired. The final irony of course being that afterwards you now possess a pointless account of some trivial event of so little importance that even the storyteller forgets not only the exchange but the event in which was discussed as well.
You may be wondering what any of this had to do with reading a book. In short, the author promotes an overall attitude that is the antithesis of what I have currently adopted. To his credit he is correct, a healthy interest in other people will make you far more likable. I am certain I have failed to cultivate to the fullest many friendships and as such have missed numerous opportunities. What he has so far failed to mention however is the sheer amount of effort, time, and will that it takes on the part of person wishing to "be more liked".
I can only hope that as I continue reading he has developed some method of making the process easier or at the very least more manageable. Thus far the book has reminded me of my selfishness as well as the consequences it confers. I have long since realized that it is probably time for a change but I have been putting off like a child with homework.
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