Learned Helplessness

I've been thinking about the phrase "learned helplessness" for literally eight months. A coworker first mentioned it on a business trip in reference to the over-dependence (in his opinion) on GPS so many drivers have developed. The phrase struck me as an intriguing one, and although his definition lends a fairly derogatory connotation, and while helplessness is generally viewed as a negative trait, my reflections have led me to an interesting place with this particular concept. Let me explain.

A number of people close to me have gone through some real shit in the past year. The details vary from person to person -- for some it was a death, for some the dissolution of a relationship, for some life in general seeming to fall apart -- but all involved hurt and sorrow that in the moment was completely devastating. And so I've found myself in conversation after conversation with someone whom I care about deeply, listening to their heartbreak, wanting desperately to provide some sort of comfort, some relief, some thing, any thing to help, and feeling at an utter loss as to how to do that. The best I could usually muster was a simple acknowledgment: This sucks, I'm so sorry you have to go through this. While I know this sentiment was appreciated, I'm not sure how "helpful" it actually was.

But the thing I'm realizing is, these situations are not about my being helpful. (These situations are not about me at all, really, but that's a different matter.) I'm learning that it's actually no help at all to come in with an action plan or even unflinching reassurance. Because, honestly, there isn't anything that any person can do to make these scenarios any less painful to the people going through them, and acting in a way that presumes otherwise seems naive at best and cruelly dismissive at worst.

So while it's hard to feel incapacitated and ineffectual in response to loved ones' reaching out -- and it is extremely hard to feel this way when you're someone who likes to find solutions, someone who's made a career, in fact, out of telling other people what to do -- I'm learning that the best and only help I can provide is to try to be present, to listen, to grieve a friend's loss as if it is my own, and to embrace my helpless role with the commitment to be there until we're both through to the other side where there is no more need for my "help". In short, in learning my own helplessness, I'm learning it is not the same as hopelessness.