being nice

On a flight from Houston to Salt Lake City, I felt lucky to have been assigned an aisle seat on an exit row after a harrowing travel schedule.  As I was about to be seated, the young woman on the inside seat said, "Would you be willing to trade seats with my dearly beloved so we can sit together?"

Dearly beloved? Wow. That's hard to resist, indeed. My instant reply is almost always to be accommodating, to be nice, to say yes. But something gave me pause and in that pause was an enormous growth moment for me.  "Where is your beloved seated right now?" I asked her gently.  She pointed to a man — waving and smiling — wedged into a middle seat near the back.  "Oh, no wonder he wants to trade!" I thought.

So I said no. I said it kindly and firmly, but I said no. I couldn't resist a small explanation ("I actually paid extra to have this seat, so I hope a couple hours apart will make your dearly beloved's heart grow even fonder.") It was all I could do not to apologize, especially when my row-mate huffed and sulked for the remainder of the trip.

When the word "nice" was first being used five hundred years ago, it meant foolish or stupid. It's rooted in the Latin "nescius" meaning "ignorant or unaware," so I have chosen to seek other characteristics to aspire to these days. (I can't help think of the boyfriend I had years ago who openly admitted that he "just wanted to be with a nice girl" and how grateful I am to have parted ways.)

Our work and personal lives often demand diplomacy and grace, but nothing works when we're ignorant and unaware. Clarity, firm and friendly communication, accurate relaying of facts...those all serve us well. Any time you're tempted to just be "nice," remember the root word and opt for a more nuanced approach.