The canned response to the many-times-repeated-daily question: how are you? Everyone has their own version: good, fine, bien. Lately, I have started a delightful practice of asking for clarification before answering that question: do you want the real answer, or the canned response?
How often do people reply “canned response please” you ask? Perhaps you will be as surprised as I was that 100 % of people polled with this new clarification responded “the real response, obviously”.
Was it really obvious? Or are we all too scared to let others know we don’t actually care how they’re doing. We all wish others to suffer silently and with purpose, the way we have been.
Are any of us really fine? Not good. Not bad. Comme ci, comme ça. Fine sounds to me like numb. Fine sounds like you’ve done your best to turn off feeling so that you are not overcome by them. When anyone I know replies: comme ci comme ça, I immediately believe them to be very much NOT fine, and that “so-so” is the politest version of not fine that they were comfortable sharing.
The concept of fine (or numb) was finally explained to me by the magical book you should all read if you’ve not already done so: Untamed, by Glennon Doyle. One paragraph I had to screen shot so I could remember to come back to it:
Since I got sober, I have never been fine again, not for a single moment. I have been exhausted and terrified and angry. I have been overwhelmed and underwhelmed and debilitatingly depressed and anxious. I have been amazing and awed and delighted and overjoyed to bursting. I have been reminded, constantly, by the Ache: This will pass; stay close.
I have been alive.
So based on G’s definition. No I’m not fine. Not today. And that’s good. Today, I choose to live.