"If you just answer the question instead of being smug and condescending all the time it would be better."
Here's what I came up with:
1. "Just answer the question" -- a poorly couched demand. Consider this conversation:
"Hi, my computer screen went purple and it makes a beeping noise. I tried pressing the power button and it didn't work. Can you tell me what to do?"
"What were you doing when the problem occurred? Is this the first time it's happening? Have you tried restarting the computer?"
"Can you just answer my question?"
As you can see, that went nowhere pretty quickly. Even experts sometimes need more information to answer a question, and non-experts such as myself often do.
2. "Smug and condescending"
I assume you asked because you wanted an answer. How does calling me smug and condescending invite a response?
3. "All the time"
If I'm smug and condescending all the time, why are we even talking? The first bit of relationship advice you'll hear from any person/book/website/wise aunt is to avoid the words always and never. They're rarely accurate and add little to the conversation. Amplifying or diminishing faults and good qualities to absolutes is also the quickest way to lose your own perspective.
4. "it would be better."
Better for whom, and why? To me, "it would be better" if you held back on nasty adjectives.
It's only one line, a few words out of the millions we have spoken with each other over the years. I hope there will be several billion more. Yes, I could overlook this, as I've done countless others. "It's just a few words," my mother might tell me. "Why do you have to analyze everything so much? Why can't you stop criticizing and just let people be?"
I could, and I have, and I probably will. But for once, I wanted to say this: It's only words, but words are how we connect, how we break apart, how wars start and relationships die. Scream enough words at a tree or a person and you can kill their spirit. Words are worthless -- try telling a depressed person to get over it, try telling them they're loved. Words are priceless -- remember feeling safe simply from the sound of your father's voice, the thrill of hearing you had won an award.
It's only words, and it was just one chat, and they're only feelings, and it's only someone I've known all my life. But knowing someone well seems, to me, like an excellent reason to nourish conversations with thought and time and affection.
They're only words, but they're the only thing we have to span distances that are physical, mental, and emotional. Why not choose with kindness and with intention?
"Can you just answer my question?"
As you can see, that went nowhere pretty quickly. Even experts sometimes need more information to answer a question, and non-experts such as myself often do.
2. "Smug and condescending"
I assume you asked because you wanted an answer. How does calling me smug and condescending invite a response?
3. "All the time"
If I'm smug and condescending all the time, why are we even talking? The first bit of relationship advice you'll hear from any person/book/website/wise aunt is to avoid the words always and never. They're rarely accurate and add little to the conversation. Amplifying or diminishing faults and good qualities to absolutes is also the quickest way to lose your own perspective.
4. "it would be better."
Better for whom, and why? To me, "it would be better" if you held back on nasty adjectives.
It's only one line, a few words out of the millions we have spoken with each other over the years. I hope there will be several billion more. Yes, I could overlook this, as I've done countless others. "It's just a few words," my mother might tell me. "Why do you have to analyze everything so much? Why can't you stop criticizing and just let people be?"
I could, and I have, and I probably will. But for once, I wanted to say this: It's only words, but words are how we connect, how we break apart, how wars start and relationships die. Scream enough words at a tree or a person and you can kill their spirit. Words are worthless -- try telling a depressed person to get over it, try telling them they're loved. Words are priceless -- remember feeling safe simply from the sound of your father's voice, the thrill of hearing you had won an award.
It's only words, and it was just one chat, and they're only feelings, and it's only someone I've known all my life. But knowing someone well seems, to me, like an excellent reason to nourish conversations with thought and time and affection.
They're only words, but they're the only thing we have to span distances that are physical, mental, and emotional. Why not choose with kindness and with intention?
