Repair
We will periodically tear the fabric of the relationship we are in.
Michael Bungay Stanier, author and coach, said this on a podcast recently. He stressed how we have to work at relationships to keep them healthy. In fact, his new book, How to Work with (Almost) Anyone is all about this.
Have you torn a corner off a relationship recently by something you have said or done? Has a thread of a small seam started coming apart in a partnership that matters to you?
This reminds me of what we have to do to rehab ourselves after an injury.
For example, it’s essentially impossible to be over 50, play tennis or pickleball several times a week, and avoid tennis elbow. If you do skim past this somehow, your shoulder gets you instead. Or your knees. Your wrist. Plantar fasciitis. Or even better, some combination of all of it.
Our bodies are just not meant to do the repetitive motions we sometimes subject them to.
About a year ago, we went to a resort in Jamaica with a dozen tennis player friends. And almost half of the group spent more time holding pina coladas than tennis balls because of our injuries.
We laughed about that.
(And we could, because of the rum.)
I’ve been playing tennis for so long that I have my own box of PT toys and exercise bands at home (just like Tom Brady). The bands are knotted and looped, tied off furniture at different heights, and in every color and configuration.
My physical therapist instructed me to do the exercises at least three times a week.
But then one day, I wondered, When do I get to stop doing these? So, I asked her, “Do I have to do these exercises for the rest of my life”?
“Yes!” she said excitedly. “If you want to play this frequently, that is.”
Damn.
It’s this way with relationships too.
Our ties to other human beings are in a constant state of progression and evolution. Relationships are fluid—constantly changing. We might have some areas where we are strong. Invincible even. But then there are areas of relationships that can have nicks or chips in them.
Whenever we make a new tear—a small peel of a corner somewhere—we need to make an attempt to fix it.
It’s called a repair.
Just like we do in PT!
We need to repair where our relationship is torn—or fraying.
Psychologist John Gottman describes a repair attempt as “any statement or action—silly or otherwise—that prevents negativity from escalating out of control.”
A repair attempt can be as simple as naming something. As in, “That was a tough conversation we had yesterday.” Or “I know you feel strongly about this.”
Or it might be while digging into some Rocky Road an hour after an argument, asking your partner, “Would you like some ice cream?”
One of my coaching clients did this the other day at work. She said after a meeting to a colleague, “I know I was cranky; sorry, I'm a little stressed about some things at home.”
That’s a repair.
But a repair can also be just to break silence. Be the first person to speak after an argument. Be the first person to send a text with someone you haven’t talked to in a while.
Those are repair attempts too.
I have a family member who is great at this. After some months of silence over political disagreements, she sent along a picture of her kids. It was a great door-opener—a peace offering. A way to break the ice.
How are your relationship joints doing? Where might you have relationship elbow that could use a little soothing?
Just like I will have to do PT to keep playing tennis for the rest of my life, so do we need to do PT for relationships.
What dull ache is in your heart-joint, carried over from a long time ago to today?
Where might you make a repair attempt?
The interesting thing about relationships is that the participants make up the rules. And unlike other sports, the aim of relationships is not to win—it’s not to beat out our opponents.
It’s to continue the game.
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