At least once a month, I have a two-hour Zoom call with my colleague and friend, Dr. Laree Kiely.
We call it our “church.”
Laree is in Northern California. I’m in Buffalo, New York.
We met more than 30 years ago while teaching at a leadership conference at Stanford University. We quickly discovered that we had grown up about 15 miles apart in Northern Colorado.
I grew up in Greeley. Laree grew up in Loveland.
During one of our recent “church” meetings, we discovered that we had both developed an interesting habit.
We were jousting with ghosts.
I wrote a about this in the June edition of Innovation Espresso®
Someone irritates you. Treats you unfairly. Disappoints you.
The event ends.
The person leaves.
But the conversation continues.
In your head.
You replay what happened. You imagine what you should have said. You construct brilliant responses—usually several hours or days too late.
The person is gone.
But the ghost remains.
So, we climb onto our imaginary horses, lower our imaginary lances, and charge into battle.
Again.
And again.
But recently, I realized there is something else we do with our ghosts.
We pass them along.
We call a friend.
“You are not going to believe what happened to me.”
And out comes the ghost.
We explain what happened. What the person said. What they did. And, naturally, we provide all this information with complete objectivity.
Well…
Maybe not complete objectivity.
We tell the story from our point of view.
And if we’re really good storytellers, by the time we’re finished, our friend is thinking:
“That SOB!”
Mission accomplished.
The ghost has been successfully transferred.
Now two people are irritated.
Why do we do this?
Sometimes we’re looking for perspective. That’s healthy. We need people we trust to help us sort through what happened.
But sometimes we’re looking for something else.
Affirmation.
I want you to tell me I was right.
I want you to confirm the other person was unreasonable.
And perhaps most of all, I want absolution.
“Roger, you did nothing wrong.”
Ahhhhh.
Thank you.
Except there is a problem.
I just gave you my ghost.
Every time I tell the story, I breathe a little more life into it.
The original incident may have lasted five minutes. But I’ve spent three hours thinking about it, 20 minutes telling you about it, and another 15 minutes telling someone else.
That five-minute incident is becoming quite an investment.
Meanwhile, the person who offended me may be happily eating a sandwich somewhere, completely unaware that they are starring in a major theatrical production inside my head.
And every retelling can make the story a little better.
The villain becomes more villainous.
The injustice becomes more unjust.
My behavior becomes increasingly reasonable.
By the fourth telling, I am practically Gandhi.
We think we’re getting rid of the ghost when we’re actually keeping it alive.
I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t talk about difficult experiences with friends.
Quite the opposite.
One of the great gifts of friendship is having someone who will listen when life becomes confusing, painful, or simply ridiculous.
But perhaps the best friends do something more.
They don’t automatically take possession of our ghosts.
Instead of immediately saying, “You’re absolutely right,” they might ask:
“What do you think was really going on?”
“Is there another way to look at this?”
“Is there anything you need to do about it?”
Or perhaps the most important question:
“Do you still need to carry this?”
That’s not affirmation.
That’s not absolution.
That’s perspective.
And sometimes perspective is exactly what the ghost cannot survive.
Perhaps there is a simple test before passing a ghost along.
Ask:
Why am I telling this story?
Am I trying to understand what happened?
Am I looking for advice?
Or am I simply recruiting another person for my jousting team?
Because there is something wonderfully satisfying about having someone join you on horseback.
“Roger, you’re right! Hand me a lance!”
And off we go.
Two riders charging after something that doesn’t actually exist.
Maybe there’s another choice.
Tell the story.
Listen to someone you trust.
Learn whatever there is to learn.
Take whatever action needs to be taken.
And then…
Don’t pass the ghost.
Let it go.
Laree and I will continue having our monthly “church” meetings. And I’m certain a few ghosts will wander into the conversation.
That’s what ghosts do.
But instead of handing them back and forth, perhaps we can help each other do something better.
Recognize them.
Learn from them.
And send them on their way.
Because a good friend doesn’t just help you fight your ghosts.
Sometimes a good friend helps you stop fighting them.
So, the next time you’re about to tell a friend about that idiot who did that incredibly stupid, insensitive, outrageous thing…
Stop for just a moment and ask yourself:
Am I sharing a story?
Or am I passing a ghost?
Who in your life helps you let go of the ghost instead of handing you another lance? 🐎👻
