Please is not a magic word (and other appendage myths dispelled)

I’m thirsty.

My legs hurt.

I can’t do it.

I call these imploding boundaries. The hidden pressure here for me is to step forward and take control, fix the problem for the person who is imploding. A person with imploding boundaries is also known as a victim.


Give me that.

You want this.

Don’t say that.

I hate you. You’re stupid.

I call these exploding boundaries. The hidden pressure here for me is to step back and let them take what they want, let them define and control me. A person with exploding boundaries is also known as a predator.

I live with both. Imploding boundaries is six years old. Exploding boundaries is almost three. I also live with Balanced Boundaries, who is nine. In reality, each of them exhibit at one point or another all three stances, but for the sake of the concept, I have simplified and assigned them static points. In reality, they are always in flux. It pays to keep an eye on where the boundaries fall day to day and respond accordingly.

We have always told all three of them that ‘please’ is a magic word. It appears to be, at least on the surface.

‘Give me that!’ will not get Exploding Boundaries her coveted item, but ‘Please give me that’ often will.

‘My feet hurt!’ will not get Imploding Boundaries an intervention, but ‘Please carry me’ often will.

How can ‘please’ seem like magic? Sometimes situations are beyond them. As a parent, we decide which ones are and which ones aren’t, when to step in and when to step back. But no matter whether they can cope with the problem on their own or not, they can always improve on their ever-growing comprehension of respect. And successful improvements in respect are rewarded, as if by magic, with the desired response from us.

Respect is a big deal. Respect knows other people are not zombie slaves. Respect knows other people are not all-powerful mind readers.

The origin of respect is to look again. Re-, as in revisit, rearrange, remind, and all things done again. -Spect, as in spectator, spectacles, and all things involved in looking.

I think respect has come to mean what it means today because our first look at other people in our world is as infants, and the second look is as non-infants. As infants, when we look at other people, we cannot distinguish them from ourselves. I cry, Mother feeds me. I am afraid, Father soothes me.

It is very similar to how adults think of their own hands and feet, or (here’s a weird concept) how hands and feet think of the adults they are attached to. I want the radio to be louder, my hand turns up the dial. My foot communicates pain, I rub it. Infants see their relationship to others like a body to a foot, or a foot to a body (depending on whether they are acting as a predator or a victim). To a baby, there is no you or me. There is only us, the foot and the body.


Of course, we all grow up, and realize that sometimes, I cry and Mother does not feed me. Sometimes, I am afraid and Father does not soothe me. This is the very beginning of respect. We take a second look at these people and realize maybe we are not a foot and a body, or a body and a foot. Maybe we are just two people. I bet the first time it occurred to us, it was a mind-blowing idea.

So ‘please’ is to remind both Imploding and Exploding Boundaries of that respect, to remind them to see others as separate. When they talk, they say ‘please’ to clarify to themselves and the listener that neither one is a foot. Nor is one of them a gigantic brain controlling a universe of appendage-like minions, either.

It is for that exact reason ‘please’ cannot be a magic word. It is not like rubbing a genie lamp and getting your wish. It is not like a magic wand that turns a pumpkin into a carriage every time. Please is not a magic word, rather it is a recognition, like calling someone Mrs. instead of Miss when they marry. We use it to recognize that others have free will, that they are separate from us, that what they decide to do does not have to be what we decide to do. A foot has to obey, but a person does not. A foot cannot think or act for itself, a person can.

'Please give me that' must sometimes be answered with: ‘Good job saying please, but my priceless antique is not for you.’

‘Please carry me’ must sometimes be answered with: ‘Asking me politely to carry you is one good idea, but I’m already carrying your sister. What else could you do about it?’

We think we are no longer infants, that we know the difference between me and you, but I don’t think we really do. I think Projection is a classic sign of failure to distinguish ourselves from others, where our passions and issues are ‘shoulds’ for everybody else. Every mother who has forced her child to wear a sweater because she herself has felt cold falls under the failure to distinguish, the failure to respect, the failure to recognize. And it is not just mothers and sweaters. Projection takes on all forms. I fall into it myself on a daily basis, heck, I feel a strong thread of projection in this essay. Even as I speak, I know bits of my infantile mentality are slipping out.

I hope all of us can figure out how to be Balanced Boundaries, neither the victim nor the predator, keeping our orientation with others free from the foot-body relationship. I believe AA calls this 'keeping your side of the street clean.' Other people's problems are their problems, and my problems are my own.

I struggle with it every day, both as a foot begging a body to give me direction and protection, and as the body that wants to control others like my own feet. I’d love to just be a person, and for you to be one, too. When I get it right, I’ll remember to recognize your status as a separate and sentient being with the dignified title of ‘Please.’