On the Extra-Ordinary, and De-Humanisation.
Sometimes, when we consider someone extra-ordinary, we de-humanise them.
Reading time: 7 minutes.
One of the indigenous principles that impacted me the most when I first heard about it is that, in many indigenous languages, there are no comparatives.
There’s no “better than” or “worse than”.
Everything is considered unique and necessary, a piece with a set of functions related to the broader ecosystem and fabric of life.
To practice with this principle led me to think about admiration, and what we do when we consider someone extra-ordinary.
When we admire someone we tend to think about them as “more than”.
More than others in their category
More or better than us, in one or more ways
More than what we thought was even possible
We tend to think hierarchically and to put them on a higher level, on a pedestal. To perceive them as better, even stronger or perfect.
But if we think about it, that’s also a form of de-humanisation.
By associating them with an idea of being more-than-human, we can fall into many traps.
- We can forget that they are, actually, very human – with imperfections, incoherences and more.
- We can get hurt or disappointed when they eventually show us their humanity with its natural flaws.
- We can become so addicted to expecting perfection from them, that we put incredible pressure on both — them to keep it up no matter what, and ourselves for not matching that (perceived) level of greatness.
And worse: when these people, who we admire and care about, are actually in our lives, we can unconsciously lose the opportunity to truly relate with them – with support, presence, and care.
“Of course he’s fine”
“She surely knows how to deal with it”
“They’ve been through much worse than this, they don't need help”
And how much does that hurt?
~
De-humanisation doesn’t happen only when we consider someone an object. It also happens when we want to consider someone a semi-god.
Both approaches hurt – and take away our humanity.
But what if we thought that the people who we consider extra-ordinary aren’t stronger — but more sensitive?
Where would their ability or mastery even come from — if not from a very deep humanity, a deep sense of feeling and caring, that they turned into a craft?
To practice with lenses of no-comparison means to fall back into a state of looking at everything as unique, but also precious. Real. Fragile, in a way. In need of care — like everything that is alive, and everything that is life-giving.
A way to integrate this into our life could be asking:
Who do I admire?
Who do I have in my life that I consider, for one reason or another, extra-ordinary? It could be for how they cook, or how they hold space for others. For how they show up when things get hard, or for a talent they have.
When was the last time I asked them if they need support? Do I even know what's good support for them?
Can I hold both as true – that they are admirable, and meant to be incoherent, weak, imperfect or unsure?
Do I even know where that talent, craft or ability comes from? What’s the story?
And especially: can I ask them?
~
Life is diverse and generous.
And by definition, we experience it in teams – our family, friends, colleagues, partners... we're a team even with ourselves.
All teams that (consciously or unconsciously) are constantly seeking to ignite that extra-ordinary in us by identifying it in others.
So in one way or another, we’ll always find people whom we admire, who awaken something in us — that seem to even challenge the established laws of reality, or what we previously considered possible or impossible.
And that is beautiful.
But how much more beautiful could it be – if we also reclaimed the knowing that everyone needs care, that expecting perfection from someone hurts both us and them, and that living by a principle of no-comparison actually brings us closer to each other?
Can this become a key part of our teams' culture – whatever team we're in?
Just a question. And a practice.
With love,
~M.
