What are they thinking, we wonder. It’s a question we toss about in conversation. It frequently comes up with someone is doing something that seems self-destructive, or bizarre, or just unexpected. For psychotherapists, like myself, a lot of people seem to believe we have a secret insight into what some particular person is thinking. Of course, I don’t. I have theories, sometimes, based on study and thirty-plus years of experience in mental health and sixty-plus years of experience being human, most of that as a voracious reader. But even with all that, I am often stymied and stumped as to what someone is thinking.
I recently dropped off art for a show and met another artist. We were introduced, we shook hands. He is a tall man with big, baseball mitt-sized hands. At least, compared to mine. And my small hands are twisted up and deformed with arthritis, with many joints completely failed, such that my ability to hold a brush or a pastel stick is pretty much a miracle. What was this man, a visual artist whose attention to detail is apparent in his work, thinking when he squeezed my hand as if I were a big man with whom he was about to enter an arm-wrestling contest? I don’t know, but what comes to mind is unkind. So, I try to assure myself it was a moment of oblivion.
We have many people in our neighborhood who walk their dogs and assiduously clean up after them. There is one person (I hope and pray it is only one because it is almost unbearable to think there are more) who very carefully picks up after their dog with proper little dark plastic bags, knots the bags carefully … and then leaves them behind. On the sidewalk, on someone’s driveway and once on the table at the end of our driveway where we had set out the abundant crop from our starfruit tree to give away. What was this person thinking as they left their little present next to the box of starfruit and the big sign announcing, Free Fruit? I hope I never figure it out. My husband, who is better-hearted person than I am, suggested that perhaps it was dark and they thought they were just adding to the trash pile. Hmmm.
What are they thinking when … we all wonder. And I am sure people wonder it about me. Certainly, my little adventures such as hiking up and down canyon walls and white-water rafting when I don’t even know how to swim generate some of that. Then there are the times when I nervously blurt out something stupid, awkward but well-intended when a friend shares difficult news, such as a scary health diagnosis. Being a professional is not a vaccine against that. And perhaps about you, too, sometimes, inspire people to wonder, what were they thinking? Reminding myself of this helps me give a little grace to other people’s weirdness or inconsideration, because I definitely have my moments of being weird, inconsiderate or just plain oblivious. And at those times, no doubt someone is wondering, “My gosh, what is she thinking…?”