If I’m struggling with something, do you step in to help? Or are you afraid you’ll undermine my independence and skill? I say, step right in.
One evening just before Christmas, I was on a village green in the dark preparing for a carol service. I needed to fit a little gizmo (a lyre) that holds music to a bigger gizmo (a horn) that makes music. The screw is a little bit fiddly and my fingers were cold.
Katie from the trombone section came to my assistance. With some hesitation, she said: “Do you want some help with that?” With no hesitation I said: “Yes please!” She’d been reluctant to offer help up to that point, because she’s just qualified as an occupational therapist. Her work revolves around helping people to become self-reliant and maintain the skills of everyday living.
It’s a tricky line to walk – and it is a line, not a simple Yes/No. At one end you have:
“I’m fiercely independent and I don’t need help.”
At the other you have:
“I’m totally useless at this and I’m about to burst into tears any second.”
It is hard for the person without Parkinson’s to know where on this continuum their partner, patient or friend is at any given time of day.
Some of my friends hold back and err on the side of fiercely independent because they don’t want to undermine my skills. They saw me manage this task with ease last week, so why should today be any different? They may fear rejection, and they dare not speak because they think my answer will be “No I’m fine, thank you.”
Step right in
Well I probably am fine, but I will not turn down your offer of help. Here’s when it’s most welcome:
- if the conductor is about to lift his baton and I haven’t got my music ready
- if the walking group is moving off and I’m still trying to get my backpack over my shoulder
- if we have a plane, train or bus to catch
- if the pasta’s going cold because I’ve forgotten to grate the parmesan.
In other words, if my faffing around is going to affect your enjoyment of whatever we are doing together, please step in, don’t wait to be asked. My worst fear is of people keeping other people waiting. However polite, “No I’m fine, thank you” closes down our conversation. An awkward silence follows in which you watch me doing whatever it is I needed help with.
Warm glow of kindness
I’m also denying you the warm hormonal glow associated with your act of kindness. You may start to stress about missing the bus or the opening bars of music. Why would I pour you a bitter shot of cortisol when there’s a long refreshing cocktail of endorphins, serotonin and oxytocin?
Helping makes you feel better. Billy Swan sings: “It would sure do me good, to do you good.” My improv coach Robert Cochrane (remember him from Jamming?) says: “Accepting the gift allows other people to shine their light on you.”
So I say “Yes, please!” and try to give clear instructions. Occasionally there will be comedy moments when we discover together that you are even more rubbish at the task than I am. It doesn’t matter – I thank you for trying! And if I see you need help, I’ll offer, too. See where that takes us!
House elf
The very best kind of help gets the task done before you even know it needs doing, like changing lightbulbs, getting a new toilet roll out of the cupboard or bringing the washing in when it starts to rain. My wonderful house elf does many proactive things that I often fail to acknowledge, so this is my chance to thank him. And, indeed, to thank him for all the things he’s helpfully put away that I’ve just got out. He wasn’t to know!
Play > I can help > Billy Swan
5 Comments
Rose Donaldson · 1 February 2022 at 6:29 pm
I love this Ali. Accepting help or letting others do something for me is extremely hard. But it is true that im denying them the ‘glow’. Thanks for reminding me.
Rob · 1 February 2022 at 9:05 pm
Very good! So true. Though I think for me it may be “step right in and offer.” Thanks Ali
Euan · 2 February 2022 at 10:57 pm
Yes, I had an experience along these lines, involving a self-service checkout, a basket and a cloth bag. I had done all the right things – put the bag in the bagging area and put my basket to the right. I had no problem scanning the first item but could not co-ordinate my hands to get the item in the bag. Three attempts and three failures later, a man came forwards from the queue and asked if I needed a hand. I was so grateful I nearly cried. Heading to the exit I flashed a sheepish grin from under my mask at those waiting and sensed that they really did care. So, I have less difficulty asking for help now. I also don’t use self-service checkouts! 🙂
Pam G · 3 February 2022 at 2:31 pm
Still giggling from the ‘house elf’ tidily putting things away, that you only just got out to use!
Debbie · 8 January 2023 at 8:25 am
This is fab. It is always good to be reminded that we are not solitary creatures and that we get so much from helping each other. And accepting help when offered. Thanks.