conflict is the art of checking underneath the rocks

avoidance, etc

Florine Stettheimer, Bowl of Tulips, 20th century,

I’m having the best writing week I’ve had in years. It makes me happy but it also makes me sad, because why is it the case that I’m happiest when I’m writing a lot, and yet… I’m often not writing a lot?

I think many (but not all!) writers can relate to this: some of our time is spent actually writing. Another significant chunk is spent anticipating writing, agonizing over what you have or have not written, and procrastinating. Writing, as I see it, involves both a lot of avoidance and a lot of overcoming avoidance.

As a result, I’m certainly an expert on intrapersonal avoidance. I also like to think that I know a thing or two about interpersonal avoidance. I was telling my friend C that I see both as the same thing: a fundamental fear of conflict.

I tweeted this a while ago: As a rule the psychologically healthier someone is, the less time it takes them to do something they were eventually going to do anyway. Anything from sending a text to quitting a job. I’m not sure what to call it—processing time? lack of blocks? low avoidance?

Here’s one way I model it: the psychologically healthier someone is, the more willing they are to face and overcome friction. Friction, in my mind, is synonymous with conflict. For instance, I noticed a couple of weeks ago that one subconscious hesitation I had about editing my book was fear that I didn’t know how to resolve some of the problems with the plot, and wouldn’t be able to. Which is of course self-defeating, because the only way I can resolve the problems is through editing and rewriting parts of the book. When I became conscious of that fear, and decided I was willing to grapple with it, I could unblock myself creatively.

Imagine seeing life as a series of confrontations stretching out before you. More radically: imagine being excited at the prospect of confrontation.

For much of my life, I was so afraid of conflict that if I noticed in the middle of a haircut that I, uh, was getting a haircut I didn’t want, I simply kept my mouth closed and accepted that I wouldn’t like my hair for six months. Looking back now, I find this completely bonkers.

Q: Why was I so unable to just speak up and say what I was feeling?

A: I was afraid of making things awkward.

Friends, the optimal amount of awkwardness is far from zero. One thing that really annoys me about the term “people pleasing” is that it implies consideration for others, when really it’s self-serving. You are, in fact, pleasing yourself by avoiding any prospect of a negative reaction from another human being. Which is, generally speaking, not what’s best for them and not what’s best for you.

Here’s how I model the three stages of avoidance:

1. You’re delusional. You have some completely dishonest reason for why you’re avoiding what you’re avoiding, like “I can’t text the girl back because I’m going on a vacation to Mexico next week and I should text her when I’m done traveling,” and you sincerely believe it.

2. You’re aware that there’s something you should do but you just absolutely can’t do it.

3. You do it.

I don’t pathologize avoidance itself, because everyone avoids things. Trust me, even the most conflict-happy person needs a week off once in a while. But of course, it becomes a problem when your fear of friction dramatically affects your quality of life. Here’s how I described it to S: most people live in a way where it’s like their psyche is a backyard and there are 10 to 12 giant rocks in the backyard that they are terrified of moving, because they’d have to see what’s underneath. So instead they just chart a path around the giant rocks and pretend not to see them. You can easily imagine how depending on how many rocks you have in your backyard, and how large they are, your ability to move around quickly becomes constrained.

Conflict is the art of checking underneath the rocks. It’s something you only learn by doing. It’s really, really scary. It’s also often the only sincere way to solve the problems in your life.

I think I’m on a journey to be more honest with myself. This seems to have had the side effect of me being more honest with other people about how I feel and how they affect me. It can be as simple as giving feedback during a haircut, or as heavy as telling a friend how I felt let down by them. And sometimes the right thing to do is to say nothing at all. But you can’t have real discernment if you aren’t willing to brave conflict, because then the only option you have is to run away and keep running. When it’s fight or flight, sometimes the right option is to stay and fight.