Reframing

On a rare day off together, Todd and I ended up in the post office line to mail some packages.  Our honey, to be specific.  A little over two pound jars.  You already know my reaction when the cheapest package came to $8.85.  To Idaho, one state over.  I whispered to Todd that we could just forget the whole thing.  Crazy to pay that much for postage.  But of course he told me, in essence, to behave.  Settle.  And then it clicked.  He was seeing this as a $10 gift rather than looking at it as a $10 stamp. I got it.  And then I totally agreed with him.  When I thought about it like that, I couldn’t help but feel we’d come out ahead, what a fun $10 present to send!  It should’ve come sooner because this has always been the idea behind sending out our Christmas letters.  I know I could bake treats, but I’d rather write a letter instead.  So I’ve never felt guilty about spending way over $100 to mail them every Christmas.  I’ve just considered that our little gift.  Just as you spend a little on making chocolate covered pretzels for us, I spend a few hours and the cost of some stamps to share our home with yours.

You do this all the time.  We all do.  It’s like the old children’s game I used to play with my kids called Never Ending Stories.  We chose a card with a detailed picture from our piles and placed it next to someone else’s on the board, continuing the oral story with our card and additional details.  We told the story that we interpreted from the picture.  If someone else had held the card, an entirely different scenario would’ve ensued.  Same with real life.  A variety of situations, an array of stories depending on who’s deciphering the cards.  Just depends on what you see in the picture and what you make of it.  Even if I’d selected the same cards during different games, I’m sure the story I’d tell would change depending on my mood.  Or what cards were placed beside mine.   Or what had happened before.  Some examples I’m sure you can relate to:

I hear Jillian Michaels’ voice as a retort to what we’re thinking as she’s pushing us, “That woman’s crazy….” “I’m not crazy; I’m effective.”  Just that tiny tweak in thinking encourages me to keep up with her because I view my discomfort in a new light.

This was Todd’s frame of reference when he brought home a boat several years ago.  Definitely not a status symbol (if anything, it’s bringing us down), he looked at it as a vehicle to provide more family time, a way to create lasting memories with friends and family.  I softened to the idea when he put it that way.

My sister came home from getting us some treats at Christmastime and mentioned that the peppermint ice cream was $6.50 for a half gallon.   I buy ice cream every week for our Sunday sundaes, but usually for around $3, so that seemed kind of steep for a little half gallon.  But then I quickly thought of the alternative—a $40 DQ trip—and immediately felt totally fine about it.  Even at twice the regular price, it was definitely a bargain. 

My friend played the same game when he mentioned the protein shake he’s been having everyday.  Striving to be healthier, even though it’s about $1/drink, he sees it as a wash since he’s not drinking his gas station soda every day.

I think of this when I’m making dinner for my family.  Sometimes it bugs me that meat is so expensive, but when I think about going out to eat for $5 hamburgers verses using a $3 pound of hamburger to feed six people at home, it turns it all around for me.

Yet sometimes the best thing for our family is to forget being so practical and frugal and just go out.  Even though it will end up being at least ten times what it would cost to make it.  I reframe it!  I remind myself we are paying to spontaneously have someone make us anything we want.  To clear the table and do the dishes.  To provide a constant supply of lemonades.  To get the ketchup for us so we don’t have to get up.  We’re “renting” a space in a restaurant for an hour or so.  Todd could make better food at home, but that’s hardly the point.  In this reframing case, it’s all about the experience of being out as a family.

And other days when I’m making lasagna at home, just a regular everyday weekday meal, I remind myself that I’m not just making dinner so we’ll have something to eat later that night.  I’m providing a reason to gather and linger at the table, a way to make memories and solidify our family, I’m bringing our family together, in a small way I’m making our family stronger by investing a little time in the kitchen.  It’s really not about what we’re eating, that we’re just re-fueling our bodies, it’s actually more about gathering and making connections.  When I put effort into our meals, I’m encouraging the family to come together, I’m playing a small part in strengthening relationships.  When this is my mindset, it switches the whole dinner-prep hour around for me.

I remember back in vet school another couple with five young kids would budget $80 a month for dates.  They went out to eat every single Friday night.  Doesn’t sound like much.  But that was 1) fifteen years ago and 2) a huge chunk of a student paycheck for something so frivolous as eating in a restaurant.  A luxury they could’ve gone without.  Certainly a better way to allocate funds.  But she taught me a lesson I think of every single Thursday when Todd and I go out for lunch.  It’s not about finding some lunch—we could easily pack a sandwich and some carrots.  You already know that.  It’s all about our marriage, which makes $20 for a lunch date and two hours of talking look like a bargain.  You remember that same sentiment as you paid babysitters, but everyone said it was cheaper than marriage counseling.  Same idea.

It’s not making excuses; it’s turning things around so you can see a situation from a different angle.  I know I drive at least a couple of close friends crazy doing this, but I was out to dinner with a friend awhile back and she validated me when she confided that she can hardly help herself from doing the exact same thing!  She’s constantly pointing out another person’s perspective, what his motivation could be, what might be happening to make her act like that.  I love how she owned it, she admits she simply tries to conjure up a story for why people do what they do, always giving them the benefit of the doubt.

And I think this is where this technique becomes valuable. If we can provide some allowances for the way we spend our money and time, surely we can apply to this principle to the people around us.  Certainly they have their reasons for everything they do.  Just as we do.  Our task is to assume they are doing the best they can (even when we are nearly positive they aren’t—we rarely, if ever, have all the details). 

Like you, we’ve had several friends over the years who have separated.  We don’t know the whole story, we usually just hear the side of the person we talk to most.  Just a few weeks ago two friends had seen me talking to the spouse of a friend after a meeting. Later, each of them asked me about it and him, I assume wondering if I knew and was ok with what he’d done to his family.  Yes, I know the story.  I think that surprised them.  It’s not so much that I’m condoning or disregarding any of it; I’m simply choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt, recognizing we’re all a mess in different ways.  I’m not oblivious to the pain he’s inflicted, I’m just loving the person I see despite what’s going on in his personal life.  So even in situations as hard as these where my dear friends have been hurt, reframing works.  It helps to shift my thinking from resentment and disappointment to feeling love for them; albeit, along with a bit of sorrow and sadness, knowing their lives have changed so drastically over the years.  Instead of looking at them as my peers, reframing helps me see them as my brothers.

“Now it is better that a man should be judged of God than of man, for the judgments of God are always just, but the judgments of man are not always just.”*  In my mind, I’d rather assume the best (or at least try to look at it all from a kinder perspective) and leave the rest for God to figure out.

I guess what I’m saying, if we can tweak the facts just enough to say that eating out is good for a marriage, we can definitely use this technique with the people around us.  It’s a little like the game I mentioned at first, we pick up random snapshots from the day, from the lives around us, from what we think we’re seeing, and we place them on the board, logging the story in our minds—the one we decide to tell ourselves.  We don’t have to get it right, but I believe we’re always better off when we’re generous with our stories.  It’s not that we ignore the obvious, we just tell ourselves there may be details we just aren’t privy to, that we simply might not have all the information.  I’d rather be loving than right.

“Perhaps the greatest charity comes when we are kind to each other, when we don’t judge or categorize someone else, when we simply give each other the benefit of the doubt or remain quiet. Charity is accepting someone’s differences, weaknesses, and shortcomings; having patience with someone who has let us down; or resisting the impulse to become offended when someone doesn’t handle something the way we might have hoped. Charity is refusing to take advantage of another’s weakness and being willing to forgive someone who has hurt us. Charity is expecting the best of each other.”  (Marvin J. Ashton)

And so, whether we’re talking ice cream or protein drinks, eating at home or eating out, mailing an $8 package of honey or bringing home a boat, we reduce anxiety and relax and invite peace into our lives when we allow ourselves a new framework, when we choose to see the bigger picture.  No place is this technique more effective than when it comes to the relationships we’re a part of, which is why I love that quote.  It reminds me to downplay the obvious and look a little deeper behind the scenes, to assume there’s more to the picture than what my little frame is allowing.

* Mosiah 29:12