A core value of mine is this: Everyone is just doing their best.
I really do believe this, and it plays out during the day when there are minor infractions committed against me, like getting cut off in traffic, or seeing when someone hasn’t cleaned up after their dog in the neighborhood, or the cashier forgets to scan a coupon.
My family teases me about this. In many ways, I could be accused of being a bit Pollyanna-ish, especially when it comes to giving others the benefit of the doubt. I move through my life wanting to believe that most people, deep down, are good, competent, and have only the best of intentions.
When my children complained about a teacher who overlooked them for the lead role in the school play, I placated them by suggesting that the teacher perhaps needed to give a chance to another student who needed it more. Just doing her best.
The policeman who pulled you over? Probably under immense pressure from the chief to enforce the city sticker laws. He’s doing his best.
What about the rude server at a restaurant? It’s because they are having a bad day. If someone forgets about something I need from them, I can only assume it is because they are balancing so many tasks in their life, and who isn’t prone to errors when overwhelmed?
Now … for myself? I’m not so kind. While everyone else is “doing their best,” I am more likely to scold myself because I could always work harder, better, faster, etc.
I’m a sucker for productivity hacks. I love scouring Substack for people’s overly-optimistic tropes describing how they went from being a lazy, unproductive slug to a CEO of their own company while simultaneously raising three children and shedding 30 pounds just by cutting out carbs. They got divorced and rode their bikes across the country. Their company laid them off after 25 years of service, so they finally opened their pottery studio and now their creations are being featured on “Good Morning, America.” Their set of original acoustic folksongs are available on Spotify. Now, they’re on a book tour, because of course they had time to write a memoir during all this.
I’m happy for them. Really.
Why do I read these blogs and posts? It’s because I secretly feel like an unproductive slug, and seeing their stories of transformation give me hope. At least, I think it gives me hope, although on further examination, I think it just reinforces my general feeling of sluggishness.
Amy Poehler has a podcast, “A Good Hang,” where she has conversations with other funny people. While interviewing Rashida Jones, Amy said:
“One of the reasons I wanted to do this podcast is because I’ve watched men doing absolutely the bare minimum. I’m truly giving 25%, which for most people is 75%. It’s like, enough is enough. Enough with the 100%! Enough with improving ourselves and listening to things about how we’re supposed to get better and better and better.”
Oh, Amy. This is the de-motivational speech I need right now. Enough of attempting to do it all.
My daughter called me from college. “I feel so behind,” she said. “I have so much to do, and finals are next week.” I choked back a caustic guffaw. Have I failed my daughter? Did I somehow give her the impression that at some point in your adult life, you will not feel behind? Not feel like a phony? Feel like you’re operating at 50% capacity?
My husband doesn’t share my opinion of people, although he appreciates my (mostly) positive attitude. “Not everyone is doing their best,” he’ll say to me. “Some people are just lazy.”
Well, that may be, but I can’t go through life with such a dim view of the strangers that surround me. I can’t and I won’t. If I expect strangers to give ME the benefit of the doubt when I come up short, then I most certainly have to extend that same kindness to them. Maybe I’m not being realistic. Maybe I’m naïve. If that’s true, then so be it. The alternative is to go through my days annoyed, angry, and indignant about every little thing, and I don’t have the energy for that. If a driver cuts me off in traffic, I will probably spin a tale in which he is driving his wife, who is in active labor, straight to the hospital. Because that’s the only logical reason I can conjure for his erratic driving. Let me live in my world where people are good, people have reasons, people sometimes fall short because of their humanness. I’ll do my best, and you do yours.
