A guy I know told me a story about when he was growing up.
He said his dad worked away from home a lot.
The family: mum, two sons, one daughter, lived together in a largish house.
The father lived, Monday to Friday, in a flat a long way away.
He usually came home to visit the family at weekends.
Everyone knew the dad didn’t have much time for the family.
They knew he preferred to work away from home.
They knew it because whenever he came home he was in a bad mood.
He didn’t say much to anyone.
So the atmosphere was quite frigid.
He was grumpy and couldn’t wait to get away, back to his job.
So they knew he felt distant from the family.
At least that was their reality.
However, this guy had reconciliation with his dad before he died.
He asked his dad why he didn’t like coming home.
His dad said, “Are you crazy?
I couldn’t get a decent job near where we lived.
But I wanted my family to have the best life I could provide.
So I eventually found a better paying job, but it meant working in a different town.
I didn’t want to disrupt everyone, so I went on my own.
But I absolutely hated leaving my family.
All week I used to sit in my little flat on my own, and dream about the weekend and coming home.
How thrilled you’d all be to see me, how we’d all hug each other.
How you’d tell me all the things you’d been up to all week.
And you’d want to know what had happened to me.
But when I walked in the door, no one wanted to talk to me.
Everyone just looked up, and went back to watching TV.
I’d been away all week from the thing I wanted most.
I’d been doing nothing but working all day, and coming back to the flat on my own at night.
Just so my family could have a good life.
And no one cared.
No one was grateful and no one wanted to talk to me, so I didn’t talk.”
No wonder he got upset.
His reality was that he was sacrificing everything for the good of his family.
But he never told his family this.
He expected them to know.
But the family didn’t know, because he never told them.
Their reality was, he can’t love us because he keeps leaving us.
And each thought theirs was the only reality.
It never crossed their minds that their reality was just an interpretation.
So they lived it and, by living it, reinforced the interpretation.
Until it eventually became the reality.
Even though it wasn’t.
And if that guy hadn’t talked to his dad about it, before he died, they’d never have known.
Think about that next time you think you know what someone else’s reality is.
Like when you think you know what your creative director’s thinking.
When you think he doesn’t like you, for whatever reason.
Or when you think you know what everyone in advertising thinks about you.
When you think they all think you’re too old.
Or they think you haven’t won enough awards.
Or you’re just not trendy enough.
Or you’re too cocky.
Or when you let your interpretation of other people’s realities stop you.
You worry they’ll think you’re too arrogant.
Or they’ll think you’re a suck-up.
Or they’ll laugh at you.
When you let something that doesn’t even exist control your life.
See we don’t live in reality.
We live in our interpretation of reality.
And that’s what stops us.
Us.
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There is a lot of people who live in their own little hermetically sealed world. To communicate effectively one needs have a passport. I guess the trick is to know what makes them tick.
Heartbreaking story of a life half-lived.
Dave,your blog struck a chord.
When I was 11+ and doing me exams, my dad kept saying if I did well in school, he’d get me a very expensive watch and an equally costly pair of leather shoes.
I had no interest in leather shoes or watches.
Would have been much happier with a cheaper pair of football boots and a soccer ball.
Strange innit, how sometimes we want to give the ones we love steak.
When they’d rather have burgers and fries.
Reality is what we are left with when we have exhausted all other possibilities twice
And what we are left with is not very nice
I read the Sun and listen to Madness
Drink White Lightening cider to crush the sadness
http://thebasildonbloggerstrikesagain.com/
Dave I’ve been working in a regional agency (part of a global network) since I graduated nearly 3 years ago. I’ve always wanted to give working in a London agency a try, to really tests my abilities. But I’ve always been apprehensive because of my experience and background (I believe I have the drive and the ideas). But like you said, ‘We live in our interpretation of reality’. This post (and your blog) has really inspired me, so thank you.
And while I’m at it, if I sent through some work could you spare 5 minutes to give some feedback? Feel free to tell me to get lost.
Thanks again.
Of course I’ll give you feedback Matt.
But if it isn’t what you want you can’t let it stop you.
Great post, Dave. Lack of communication is clearly a widespread disease. Lack of communication between clients and agencies, between departments etc.
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http://ex-blank-page.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-reply-to-daves-great-posts-57.html
Great post, very true. Too many of us let our interpretations of life guide us.
there’s an old Sufi story about a thirsty dog that stood at the side of the river trying to drink.
but everytime he came closer he saw his reflection in the river thinking it was some other dog and ran away.
whenever he came there was this other dog preventing him from drinking.
until thirst was so overwhelming that he simply jumped in the river.
and the ‘other’ dog disappeared.
I really like your Sufi story Riki; speaks volumes about what really hold us back from finding our way forward.
mm