Day two: Let’s stop pretending to be okay. Okay?

Isn’t it somewhat ironic that the question we seemingly ask people the most – that is, “How are you?” – is probably the one we get the most generic or least truthful answers to?

And, let’s face it, it’s also the one we respond to with the biggest lies.

We mindlessly tell each other we’re “Great, thanks,” when we’re not doing great at all, and we don’t bat an eyelid when the person opposite tells us that they’re also doing fine. We mostly accept the answer to be true, even when we feel like maybe it isn’t.

And okay, I admit, I’m not going to tell Prabin from the corner shop that no, I’m not okay, or that I’m barely keeping together, or that the incessant drilling that goes on in my building on some days makes me want to strangle my landlord. But I do want to reflect on the power of words, and how sometimes admitting that things aren’t so great allows others to open up. So, when we’re presented with the opportunity to be honest about our feelings, perhaps we should because not only is it good for us as individuals, but it’s also good for the collective.

During my yoga teacher’s training in Bali back in 2019, we were regularly huddled together as a group to have a check-in and talk about different issues. On this particular day, our teacher had asked us how we were all doing, and heads bobbed as some of my fellow trainees nodded and smiled and said they were “doing fine.” A few put their hands up and spoke about how great they were feeling, or some positive experience they’d had.

After hearing these responses, I reluctantly put my hand up. I typically hate talking in a big group and I shy away from it, but I was trying to push myself in response to my instructors saying I should try to be less afraid of taking up space or drawing attention to myself.

James, the teacher, said: “Yes, Andrea.”

And I told him and the group that I wasn’t so great. I told them that I was finding the training emotionally demanding and that some of the self-reflection exercises that we’d done had brought up ‘old stuff’ for me that I was struggling with. I told them that I was surprised that I was finding the physical aspect of the programme the easier part. I told them that while I was happy to be there and overall really enjoying my experience (which was the truth), that being in such a large group all day every day for the previous three weeks had begun to take its toll on me as an introvert (there were 30 trainees when it was only the 200HR group, and 42 when we joined the 500HR, if memory serves me well).

I’d be lying if I say I remember exactly what he said to me in response, but I do remember him validating the way I was feeling, thanking me for sharing and then asking the group if anyone else felt the same. And quite a few others then put their hands up and nodded in unison. They were people who had previously either nodded to say they were okay or had said nothing at all.

As social beings, we’re constantly monitoring people’s body language and trying to stay in line with what the group is saying and doing. It’s just the way we’re wired. So it can be incredibly difficult, for example, to speak up and say that you’re struggling when everyone else on the surface seems to be okay. It can even be difficult for some of us to share how we feel with our closest friends.

At the end of the training, we had to write a personal note to every one of our fellow trainees, either to thank them for something or to draw attention to a positive quality that they have. Quite a few wrote to thank me for speaking up and sharing how I felt because it made them feel more inclined to do the same. A few of my fellow introverts also said that saying I found it difficult to be in such a big group 24/7 helped them to feel less alone with how they were feeling.

This is the power of being honest.

During that training, I learnt the value of trying to be truthful about my feelings as much as I can. While I’m not going to start sharing everything with the people I make small talk with as I go about my day, when the opportunity presents itself to be honest instead of responding with a generic response to keep the group happy, I will now always push myself to say what I feel.

At best, I’ll help someone feel less alone and to open up. At worst, I’ll be shunned by people for being honest. And that’s not the kind of crowd I want to be around anyway.