In last week’s post, I mentioned my frequently expressed
hatred of Audi drivers. Martin responded that he used to drive an Audi. Don’t
worry, Martin, we all did things we regret in our younger days. It’s good that
you can own your past transgressions, that you now see the error of your ways,
and I’m sure you’ve spent the time since making up for it – being kind to small
animals, giving more to charity, occasionally letting other drivers have their
right of way.
My reply to Martin was rather flippant, I’m afraid, and I feel I should apologise for that. I said, “And you’re also a cyclist! And yet, I still like you. So you must be doing something right.”
I need to make it clear that I
don’t put cyclists in the same bracket as Audi drivers. Not all cyclists are
bad, but I do reserve a particular disdain for the selfish and arrogant ones,
usually MAMILs, who believe their hobby / exercise routine trumps the rights
and priorities of all other road users. There are times I feel like setting up
a desk in the middle of a cycle lane and writing my blog there, or taking the
ironing board out onto the Transpennine Cycle Trail and standing smack dab in
the middle of it while I press the creases out of my smalls. But such behaviour
would be petty. Far better to manage my grievances through mentalisation.
Missing Persons - Mental Hopscotch
On the first week of my new job, just over two years ago, I
attended a course that introduced me to the concept of mentalisation. It’s not
the best of words, since whenever I hear it, I immediately think of Alan Partridge running away from his obsessive fan, or else I conjure up an image of this guy…
Mentalisation has nothing to do with either of those weird cultural reference points. Science Direct tells us…
“Mentalisation is the ability to think about states of mind (e.g., thoughts, feelings, intentions) in the self and other people.”
Mentalisation is used a lot in therapy, but it’s also encouraged for
teachers, business people, anyone who might find themselves in a situation of
conflict with another person who appears to have opposing views, plans or
wishes to yourself.
Lou Reed - How Do You Think It Feels?
The idea is similar to empathy, but empathy that you think about
and apply to a situation, rather than empathy that comes naturally. A quick
word on the difference between empathy and sympathy, since it’s something I get
asked a lot by students...
A friend of yours tells you what a bad time they’re having since they lost a loved one. You can sympathise as above, without really feeling their pain. Or you can empathise, because you care about them deeply, you knew the person they’ve lost, or because it reminds you of a loss you yourself suffered.
The other different between empathy and sympathy is that you can have empathy for positive emotions. Sympathy's all about the negative, "feeling sorry" for someone.
Parquet Courts - Sympathy for Life
OK, mentalisation isn’t quite the same as either of those
things. It’s more cold and logical. It’s the Mr. Spock version of empathy. It asks
you to carefully assess the actions of another, to try to appreciate why they’re
acting the way they are, thereby controlling your own reaction to it.
Charley Pryde - Hope You're Feelin' Me (Like I'm Feelin' You)
Imagine you’re going into a difficult business meeting with
someone you know has very different goals and objectives to you. If you think
beforehand about their aims and intentions, try to understand where they’re
coming from, then you’re less likely to get pissed off when they refuse to play
ball with your plans, and you might be more willing to find a compromise that
suits everybody.
As a teacher, it’s useful to try mentalising my students. Why is little Timmy throwing his chair through the window? What’s he got going on in his life, at home or elsewhere in school? Is it a cry for help? Or did he just have George's Maths lesson the period before mine?
Elvis Presley - How Do You Think I Feel?
Let’s try and apply mentalisation to my frustration at being stuck
behind a cyclist on a narrow country lane. At five miles an hour in first gear up a steep Yorkshire hillside.
With no passing places until you get right to the top. And I’m in a rush,
because I’m late to pick Sam up from the school because the traffic has been
really bad tonight.
Drive-By Truckers - Slow Ride Argument
If I concentrate my thoughts on me in this situation – my goals,
my annoyance, how I wouldn’t have the audacity to keep on riding my bike in
this situation if there was a queue of ten cars behind me – I’m just going to get more wound up.
Drive-By Argument - Cyclists Run Red Lights
Instead, let’s try to mentalise that cyclist. Maybe he had a heart attack last year and his doctor told him cycling is the best exercise if he wants to see the other side of 60? Maybe his wife left him a few months back and cycling is the only thing that takes his mind off his loneliness? Maybe he’s in training for a charity bike ride to earn enough money to fly his young son to the States for an experimental medical procedure that might save the boy's life?
Now, admittedly, this is speculative mentalisation, since
I’ll never know the truth, and likely none of them come anywhere near the truth
(and maybe the truth is, that cyclist really doesn’t give a shit about anybody
else on the road since they’re completely devoid of empathy or the ability to
mentalise the needs of others; i.e. maybe they’re also an Audi driver), but it’s
the process that matters. It’s certainly healthier to try to mentalise
in this situation. And anger
is pointless, apparently. But we’ll get back to that another time. The main thing is to try to imagine yourself in someone else's shoes. These songs, from the perspective of cyclists, help me feel the other side of the story...
Half Man Half Biscuit - See That My Bike's Kept Clean
(And of course, I can't resist the urge to quote well-known rock-cyclist Nigel Blackwell one more time... "Too many psychopaths. Not enough cycle paths.")
If none of that works, maybe I can try to imagine that
cyclist is a friend of mine. What if it's Martin? If I imagine that, then I know he’s
not doing this out of malicious intent, he’s just doing what he needs to do. If
I imagine it’s someone I know, someone I like and respect, then suddenly I
feel far less animosity towards them, because I know they're not doing it on purpose just to piss me off. (To be fair, some of my friends would do it on purpose just to piss me off, but that's OK when it's your friends.) Suddenly it becomes much easier to mentalise
them. There’s probably a psychological name for doing this, but I haven’t come
across it yet. I’m no expert, just a layman trying to make sense of
it all to help myself.
Phew. I don't jog much these days - glass knees.
ReplyDeleteI tried jogging earlier this year. I think I was getting a bit fitter, but it did wreck my knees, so I've gone back to just walking. Harder to concentrate on the music I'm listening to when jogging, also.
DeleteWhat is a MAMIL?
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you asked.
DeleteMiddle-Aged Man In Lycra.
Ever since the Tour De Yorkshire a few years back, the roads round here are clogged with them.
In Rol-land, is it acceptable to cycle to the veg shop, cafe and butcher, but wearing jeans or shorts (and emphatically not lycra)? And where is Rol-law on the issue of cycling with an attached dog-trailer? (Also, at this time of day, should you be teaching?)
ReplyDeleteI'm fine with any of that if it's happening in Portugal.
ReplyDeleteI get breaks.
It sounds as if Mr SDS is very similar to you with the things that piss him off and how he normally reacts. Perhaps as a result of this I'm the one who does the mentalisation thing (although I never knew it had a name) on his behalf - the things I've imagined about people, the excuses I've given them... ill parents and family fallouts and dying pets and washing machines leaking all over the floor onto new carpets, all at the same time too... those poor miserable cyclists / drivers / people who don't say hello back when you pass them on the path, is it any wonder? On the other hand, as you mentioned, they may just be selfish, arrogant arseholes. That's the bit he can't get past...
ReplyDeleteDon't tell him, but sometimes I can't be bothered to say hi to people on the path. If you're on a long walk, it gets sooooo repetitive...
Delete