When I argue with somebody - which, mercifully, is rarely - I find there’s usually something about the way they argue that annoys, irritates or, at times, infuriates.
Once I knew a chap who’s idea of arguing - or, in our case, discussing political issues which we rarely agreed on - was to simply reply, ‘No it’s not’ or ‘You’re wrong’ - or some similar three worded reply. Or he would shake his head and simply look away, staring off into the distance, saying, ‘No’ as I spoke. It drove me mad and, I have to say, sometimes brought out the worst in me.
I read something one day about ‘triggers’. Triggers are simply things you see or hear or feel or taste or smell that invoke a reaction, a feeling, a mood - good, bad or indifferent.
Many triggers are subtle, barely noticeable and have minimal affect on you - the smell of your office, the sound of a passing lorry, the feel of a freshly ironed short on your back.
Others can be more powerful. A certain tone of voice, used by a parent years ago, and now repeated by some other person can evoke the same feelings as the parent did.
A particular song that was playing when somebody broke off their relationship with you can bring years old memories flooding back.
The state of your home - good or bad - when you walk through the door. Untidiness has been known to cause - to trigger - depression in some people.
The mere thought of a person you are desperate to know better… and the sight of them as they walk towards you.
The sight of a spider. Or a puppy.
The sound of a loved one’s cries/laughs.
A particular street. Or model of car.
The smell of alcohol on somebody’s breath.
A person who’s not speaking to you.
The smell of a particular perfume. Or fresh bread.
The recollection of a wonderful/terrible memory.
An ex-partner.
Another’s look of contempt. Or lust. Or surprise.
All triggers.
My friend’s behaviour annoyed the life out of me. I understood that other people - in what they do or say or in the way they conduct themselves - can have a direct effect - that is, they could be a trigger - on others. I realised that, if I thought of different people I knew - from loved ones to the flimsiest of acquaintances - they were all some kind of a trigger to me. Some were very weak triggers, others quite powerful ones. Some nice, some not so nice. One person was a relaxing, enjoyable trigger; another triggered boredom and a desire to avoid them while another triggered admiration and, even, some envy.
Which led me to a more profound question, one that I had to ask myself: if these people are triggers to me then what kind of trigger are you to them - and to others?
I had watched this chap argue - or discuss with other people - and sometimes his behaviour with others was completely different. And I realised that, even though he is ultimately responsible for his own behaviour, I was a trigger for a certain type of reaction. His fault was in not restraining himself or holding himself to a higher standard. But what caused him to at least feel like acting that way was… me.
That one realisation was transformational.
I suddenly realised that at least some of the reaction I got from people - whether it was positive or negative - or just plain bland - was at least in part due to the effect I had on them.
Those that regarded me as witty, funny and humorous would set eyes on me and smile. A lady I flirted with last week would giggle when I went to her desk this week. A person who had once tried to fob me off and been reprimanded for it by her boss would answer the telephone cheerfully to me - and then, recognising my voice, her own would flatten to clipped words and short sentences with a cold and indifferent tone.
The kind of trigger we become to another person can sometimes be created in an instance but is more usually created over a period of time. It’s the culmination of their experience with us that leads them to associate you with fun or seriousness or wittiness or criticism or bad temper. Once they feel they know you the triggers are created. We inspire reactions. We cause moods. We affect emotions. We provoke feelings. We are triggers ourselves and if we want to change our relationships with people we need to pay close attention to what it is we do and how it is that what we do affects them.
The first thing I did was to notice how other people triggered me. And then I asked myself, what was it about them that trigger that in me? If they were good triggers, why were they good? What have I discovered over time that I like about them? If they were boring or irritating to me what was it about them that triggered such feelings?
Then I started to pay attention to the way people reacted when I met them at the office or in social situations, when I spoke about things, when I asked for a favour, when I offered one… and so on. It is astonishing but once you realise how you affect other people - and what you do specifically to trigger emotions in them - you find you have a host of ideas about how to improve your relationship with them.
How do you find out how you affect others? You’ve been creating the trigger that you are over the days, weeks, months and years that they have known you. How do you ascertain what kind of a trigger you are to the various people you interact with?
You ask yourself questions. (If you’re brave, you could ask the other person). Either way the answers will reveal much:
What is the nature of my interaction with x? (ie do I ask him to do work for me, do I report to her, is he my best friend, does she sell me my morning paper, is he somebody I’ve had a troubled relationship with, is she somebody I go to for help or advice, is he my husband, is she my daughter…?)
How does x react when s/he first sees me? Cheerfully? Dismally?
What is x’s attitude - body language, tone, facial expression - when we’re interacting?
Whatever the answer to the above, just to get the brain going ask yourself this: what would I need to do to illicit the opposite of the reaction I currently get? How, for example, could I - through actions and words over a period of time - make their joy every time we meet turn to trepidation or irritation or misery every time we meet? Or, if they’re usually miserable when they see me what should I do to invoke cheerfulness?
If the reaction to me isn’t the one I want what would I need to start doing to inspire the one I want?
Does somebody else get the reaction I want? Can I learn from them the best way to approach x?
And so on.
You are a trigger. You cause people to feel things, to think things, to do things. You’re not responsible for another’s bad behaviour or rudeness or dismissive attitude but you are, nevertheless, a trigger and you can’t help but be one.
Find out what kind of a trigger you are. It will vary from person to person. If you’re not the kind of trigger you want to be ask yourself why not. Work out what you need to do to be a better trigger and, if it’s possible - and if it’s within your character - make some changes.
With the friend I had the arguments with I realised that he regarded discussion with me as a battle, as something to be won or lost. I don’t hold myself responsible for his sometimes infantile attitude but I am responsible - or, if you like, response-able - with regards to my own behaviour. So I looked fo rways to improve things a little. I made more of an effort to explicitly agree with him - that is, I would actually tell him I agreed with him - where I genuinely agreed with him (previously I would often move the conversation on to the next point when I agreed with him).
Sometimes I would ask him his view on something without engaging in a debate. I’d simply ask him and respect his opinion.
I would be less pedantic and not argue every point.
I would not raise my voice. And I would not demonstrate exasperation in my tone. I would maintain a conversational style instead of speaking quickly and loudly. I would take longer pauses, breathe deeply and make sure I was relaxed.
I would inject humour into the conversation where possible.
And so on.
Did I turn the situation around completely? No. Remember - he had responsibility too and he often failed to act accordingly with regards to our conversation.
Did I improve the situation? Yes, definitely. Over time he calmed down somewhat as the sense that we were in battle together lost its hold. I had to be aware of my mode of conversation with him but it got a lot easier. I accepted I was a trigger, I realised how I was a trigger and I sought to do something about it. It’s a valuable lesson and I occasionally need to relearn it.
I’m always glad when I do.