“Helping people is my hobby. I don’t care if they want help or not.”
The teaser from Dr. Ravi’s latest movie, “Help Me Help You,” got my attention. As a helping professional, it’s my privilege to support people who want my help. Sometimes they aren’t sure how to give or receive help themselves.
Ravi Godse is a Pennsylvania doctor with a passion for creating films in which he’s the fool. This takes courage, which he uses to make points about the human condition. You can check out the trailers for his films, which include “I Am a Schizophrenic and So Am I,” and “Dr. Ravi and Mr. Hyde.”)
All three films have a mental health ring to them, although Dr. Ravi is an internist, not a psychiatrist. “I have seen,” he says, “how many problems well intentioned, but misguided, help can cause.”
The thing is, we’ve all got habits. Couldn’t get through life without them. Learning and repeating is hardwired. Consider the alternative: Figuring out how to walk all over again every day, or how to drive a car, read or buy groceries. We habituate as a basic part of living.
Most of our habitual behaviors serve us. We eat, brush and floss, work, smile, take out the garbage, play with the kids, make love. Then there are the problems: Working too much, gambling our savings away, gossiping, etc. Some habits—overeating, undereating, smoking, alcoholism and drug abuse—can lead to serious illness or even death.
Most problem behaviors don’t kill, but they do cause a great deal of unhappiness. On the continuum from life-serving habits to those that self-defeat, one that is very problematic is helping.
Really? But aren’t we all supposed to help out? Pitch in? Serve?
Not so fast. Motive is the key. In How Can I Help, Ram Das and Paul Gorman write, “Catering to our own needs and expectations, we may be less likely to hear what others feel they really need.”
They recommend being alert to our own agendas before we extend a hand. “The more you see yourself as a ‘helper,’ the more need for people to play the passive ‘helped.’ You’re buying into, even juicing up, precisely what people who are suffering want to be rid of: limitation, dependency, helplessness, separateness.” In other words, not really helping.
For instance, when someone has a problem, do you jump into the fray or do you ask, “Is there something you want from me around this?” Maybe the person needs a shoulder to cry on, or wants to brainstorm. What if your friend just wants to complain or needs you to fix the situation? Wouldn’t it be good to know that? If you ask first, then you can decide whether you can or want to help.
None of us is immune to helping to fill our own need. “In real life,” Dr. Ravi says. “I have been both the recipient and perpetrator of that problem.” His words are humbling, and I think of times when I offered to help based on what I would have wanted for myself had situations been reversed. Helping can create more problems than it solves.
How can we know when our helpfulness is misplaced? Feeling resentment is a good sign. When helping comes without conditions, without the need to serve something in yourself, without seeking praise, you won’t suffer from resentment or its buddies (irritation, frustration, anger). If you notice, however, that you want a response, or if afterwards you feel a twinge, tightness or compression, check out your motives, because you may be feeling the resentment that comes from unmet expectations.
If your helpfulness leaves you with resentment instead of contentment, I invite your comments and questions.