When I mentor others, clients commonly express concern that our conversation might just amount to venting or badmouthing others in their lives.
I hear things like, “Yeah, I was hurt, but I don’t want to throw this person under the bus.” In other words, there is often a felt tension between the need to share one’s authentic lived experience (which is inevitably messy) and wanting to protect the reputation and uphold the dignity of the person being mentioned. It’s a valid point. Am I venting, or am I healing? How do I know the difference?
The Gift of Communication
Pope Saint John Paul II had a great reverence for the human gift of communication. Not only was he a gifted preacher and evangelist, but his acting experience during his youth, especially in the underground “Theater of the Word,” uniquely formed how he understood the spoken word. Although most of us don’t share Pope John Paul II’s vocation to communicate on the world stage, we can still learn from his example as we consider the gift of speech and self-expression, including in a therapeutic setting.
In his 1987 Address to the People of the Communications Industry, given in Los Angeles, Pope John Paul II made two particularly interesting statements. First he challenged, “…you must ask yourselves if what you communicate is consistent with the full measure of human dignity.” Second he proposed, “I would encourage you in yet another way: to respect also your own dignity.” As I reflected on these words, I realized how well they apply to any context of human communication, including mentorship, therapy, spiritual direction, or even simply friendship.
The Goal of Mentorship
Whenever someone I accompany expresses qualms about sharing about others in their life, especially in a way that might sound negative or critical, I let them know that our goal is to explore their personal experience, while simultaneously upholding the intrinsic dignity of any person who might happen to be part of their story.
The tragic reality of human existence is that human persons hurt one another, sometimes deeply. Sadness and anger are appropriate emotional responses to being hurt. Unless we give voice to our emotions, they stay stuck deep within our subconscious and generally escape sideways. Healing and forgiveness is a complex process that first requires acknowledging the fact that I have hurt others and I have been hurt by others. Sharing openly and honestly is a necessary step to heal, but the key is learning how to intentionally communicate my feelings and experience in a way that is “consistent with the full measure of human dignity,” including my own. What might this look like?
In his book Training the Tongue and Growing Beyond Sins of Speech, Fr. Gregory Pine, O.P. stresses that the goal of our faculty of speech is communion. This goal can help guide the direction any conversation takes. If we’re honest, we know that in the heat of the moment, or during a flood of emotion, our words are not always perfectly crafted. In a therapeutic context, pausing to stoically choose every word might actually block genuine emotional expression in a way that is counterproductive. However, if my ultimate desire is deeper communion with others and with God, keeping this in mind can help direct the way I express my interior experience.
Practical Questions to Consider
When stepping into a conversation with a mentor or therapist about a difficult relationship in our life, some prior reflection might help guide the process in the direction of healing and communion. Here are a few questions to ponder beforehand:
- Is my goal to complain about how much I dislike this person, or is it to discover how I can make peace with them?
- Do I truly desire the good for this person, or am I fueled by hatred or resentment?
- Am I simply trying to share my story, or am I trying to portray the other as a villain?
The Value of Communion
It’s also important that the person with whom I share values communion as well. As a young priest and bishop, John Paul II (at that time, Karol Wojtyla) spent ample time with groups of young people in outdoor excursions. One friend described how Father Wojtyla turned his two-person kayak into a floating “confessional”; people would take turns paddling and speaking with him, holding “unforgettable conversations.”
Another friend recalled that as they grew older, and family life and situations got more complex and tumultuous, Wojtyla “always listened very carefully” and “even to our loud voices he was replying shortly, very calmly.” To me, these descriptions paint the picture of a man who understood the human heart and was willing to listen with an eye toward communion.
John Paul II was not one to dodge the hard realities of life, but his calm disposition also indicates that he approached difficult conversations with a consistent reverence for the human person. The ultimate witness to this is his conversation with the man who attempted to assassinate him. Meeting with Mehmet Ali Acga in his prison cell, Pope John Paul II reportedly spoke to Acga in a soft, calm voice. While his actual words were audible only to his interlocutor, Saint John Paul II’s powerful witness of speech ordered toward communion remains an invitation for all of us to pursue.
Saint John Paul II, pray for us.