House has had its ups and downs, but tonight’s brilliant episode was about a sick blogger, so I had to watch. The patient was one of those bloggers who reveals everything about her life, both physical and emotional, and had readers all over the world. So the House team was combing her blog for clues to her Unrealistic Medical Mystery Of The Week.
Much of the episode focused on the question; “What is an appropriate amount of self-disclosure?” There are generational and cultural components to that question. My dad revealed personal information in the smallest possible micro-droplets, after carefully considering ways of, um, not. A story from his early teaching career illustrates.
He was filling in as a school principal in a small town in Colorado. The townsfolk had kept their distance from him, not talking much or inviting him to any events, so he was lonely. One day he was eating lunch alone in the diner and the sheriff came in and sat down with him. The place was empty. The sheriff began to ask him questions about the family of one of the kids in the school. He basically told the sheriff to go ask them if he wanted to know anything.
He had been certain that nobody heard the conversation, but somebody must have gotten the gist of it because afterward, people began to be more friendly to him. He got on well and made many friends there.
On the other extreme I’ve known people who tell me stuff about themselves that I’d rather not know. Context is important: in a blog it’s fine, but I’ve had people corner me in a store aisle and loudly start telling me about their divorce or their kids’ drug problem while I edge away. It isn’t that I don’t care, it’s just that I am slow-witted in those situations. I usually stammer some kind of lame sympathy. (I’m no good at talking on the phone, either.)
Back to the the TV episode; Doctor Chase is saddened by the discovery that, despite his accomplishments in life, women are mainly attracted to him because he’s so handsome. In that context the suggestion is made that relationships online might be less affected by how someone looks and in that respect, be more “real”.
But what to disclose online? Doctor Wilson is mortified when it becomes public knowledge that that he once starred in a film that was later edited into a porno. He sets out to embarrass House – an almost impossible task when it concerns a person who openly gambles and consorts with prostitutes.
What would embarrass me? Hell, I’ve already admitted online that I voted twice for Ronald Reagan, so we know I’m not a quick study. I’ve written that I only pretend to understand why people are offended by sarcasm. I have never attempted to hide the fact that I just don’t understand sports or James Bond movies. I did two detailed posts about gory details of my surgery last year. My dad’s head would explode if he knew some of the stuff I’ve written in 8 years of blogging.
But at least I’m not tortured by any thoughts that people only like me for my looks… That one’s on doctor Chase.
Maybe the only embarrassing thing I can reveal online is that I suspect that I’m rather shallow. You’d think that after failing at so many things I’d have something deeper to say about failure than; “Don’t despair, get up and try again.” After the medical problems I’ve experienced I should be able to write something more reassuring than; “Don’t get too comfortable. Comfort makes you more vulnerable to pain.” After reading thousands of books and meeting so many brilliant, amazing people I should have learned something more profound than “Live by your values, not by your fears.” Or not to suspect that possibly there isn’t anything more profound than that.
OK how’s this: I cried at the end of 50 First Dates. Maybe it was Adam Sandler’s egg-shaped head. Nah, everyone already knows I’m a sap.
I missed that episode of House, but I’ll have to watch for it.
Self-disclosure online is something I struggle with constantly, But perhaps, as my mother used to say, my purpose in life is to be a bad example. No porno pics in my background, and no one would ever accuse me of being wanted for my looks, but my mental health status does set me apart from most others. I’ve found that baring my soul does more than make me nervous – it shows others who are in the same place I am that there’s worse things out there than being “mentally interesting.” (Or batsh*t crazy, as some would say.)
A long way of saying that what you consider mundane sharings mean something to those of us reading. Thanks for doing it.
I loved that episode, though I have no wise comment about self-disclosure. I do know it is easier to disclose things on your blog to random and mostly strangers than it is to tell the people you see everyday things that make you blush.
Shallow? Nay, my darling, not shallow. Nothing you said seems shallow at all. Just simple. And profound in it’s simplicity. Simple answers are sometimes the best answers. I mean, come on, look at science: science eschews the complicated for the simple as often as it can, because the simple answer is so often right.
Look at failure: you say to get up and try again. So do the Japanese: Fall seven, up eight. Isn’t that simple? Isn’t that the truth? Does it really need to be all done up in a nice suit and tie?
How about “Don’t get too comfortable – you’ll just make yourself more vulnerable to pain?” How many people really give that advice? I’ve not run across it. People usually want to believe otherwise. Your telling the unvarnished truth will probably make some poor soul realize that a little bit of discomfort now is better than agony later. And that advice can be extrapolated to a lot of things – a great many problems are caused by people trying to avoid discomfort and only setting themselves up for pain. Look what Wall Street did, chasing its short-term satisfaction.
And “Live by your values, not by your fears” is really the foundation of a life. It’s the best advice you can possibly give for living well. Shallow? I don’t think so. Simple? Yes. Simple the way Zen is simple.
Don’t sell yourself short, my dear friend. Especially when I spend a good portion of every day wishing I could be at least half as wise as you.
Dana’s got most of my points covered already. I’ll just add that I’ve learned that there is a big difference between real life conversations and the ones you see in plays, TV shows, or movies. The former are often only half-right. At least, I seldom think of everything I’d have liked to say until later, particularly if it’s a conversation I haven’t had before.
As Steve Martin used to say, it’s easier to ad-lib when you have something prepared.
Sadly, I didn’t get to see the episode. My DVR recorded it, but sound and video were out of sync for some reason.
I was thinking about writing something along the lines of what Dana had, but she beat me to it. Ditto Dana…
Have no fear, 50 first dates made me cry too. The memory thing, plus the sappiness. And I don’t cry that often to sappy stories.
“But at least I’m not tortured by any thoughts that people only like me for my looks…”
We biologists are always drawn to the unusual …
“And “Live by your values, not by your fears” is really the foundation of a life. It’s the best advice you can possibly give for living well. Shallow? I don’t think so. Simple? Yes. Simple the way Zen is simple.”
Exactly. The inverse of ‘original sin’ (which we all instinctively know is just wrong) is ‘original enlightenment’. The more I practice (Zen practice), the simpler it becomes. “It” (Zen) is simply the direct experience of reality, which is why zazen (sitting meditation) is important. It is the practice that ultimately teaches me how to be present in all other aspects and activities. Not that I “achieve” that every moment, but each day I can choose to practice zazen (or not) and then have that seep into the rest of the day.
Osmosis is a fundamental force of the universe.
Enlightenment is not to be attained, but to simply be.
Um… (rattles head, makes ball-bearing-in-can sound)
Sometimes I feel like I should be writing greeting cards, but I don’t know where the real depths are. At least, though the ideas work for me, they don’t seem to be very original. Maybe originality is an unrealistic goal. Or just unimportant, unless I were trying to earn an advanced degree.
There’s a scene in “American Beauty” where one of the characters shows a video of a plastic bag floating around in circles in the wind. I love watching stuff like that. To me that IS deep, or at least real.
What I meant about the comfort thing is that addiction to comfort fosters the expectation that we “should” be comfortable… making pain worse. Not the neurological sensation of the pain, but our experience of it.