“It’s too hot.” “It’s too cold.” “I’m too busy.” “I don’t have anything to do.”

And the complaints go on and on. Just name it, and we’ll complain about it: our health, money, our age (no matter what it is), the government, the weather, other people, our job, our children, our parents. You get the picture.

Complaining can be such a habit we don’t even realize we’re doing it.

Sometimes it’s how we interact with a certain group of friends: we have gripe sessions. You gripe about your boss, and I tell you how I understand because my boss is the same way. Or my kids or my husband, my house or my neighbors.

If we heard a tape of these sessions, we would be appalled. Who knew we were so negative?

What does whining accomplish?

First of all, it increases your misery. It reminds you of all the ways you’re unhappy.

Second, it makes others miserable. If there’s nothing they can do for you, they feel impotent. If your complaint is a result of something they did or neglected to do, they feel guilty. If it’s something they can help you with, they feel manipulated. Why not just ask?

Third, it shows a lack of gratitude. In this country, many of the things we complain about are the results of our own choices. We chose to marry, to have kids, to work for a certain company, or to live in a certain place.

So why do we whine?

Here are some of my guesses. You might be able to come up with others.

1. It relieves us of responsibility. It’s a way to blame someone or something else for our discontent. And since they’re to blame, we have no choice but to be unhappy.
2. Everyone’s doing it. We don’t want to seem too content, when everyone else in the group is so busy being unhappy. It might make them feel even worse.
3. We want someone to validate our suffering. We don’t necessarily want them to fix it; we just want them to understand what we’re going through.
4. It’s a cover-up. We want someone to understand a serious issue we’re having without having to admit it. I complain about a co-worker, but my real fear is that I’m going to lose my job. I complain to my husband that he spends too much time at work. All I really want is one night out, but I want him to suggest it.
5. We want someone else to fix it. Instead of asking for help, we complain, hoping someone will offer. I gripe about the dirty dishes because I want someone to offer to wash them.
6. We need to vent. We relieve ourselves by spewing our ill feelings onto someone else, so they can suffer as we’re suffering.

And how do I stop it?

1. Realize it’s not your duty to whine. Even if that’s the pattern you and your friends have established when you get together, you don’t have to continue it.
2. If you need help or advice, ask for it. Instead of complaining, ask, “What do you think I should do about this?” In doing so, you’re accepting responsibility.
3. Know that “this too shall pass.” The sub-zero temperatures outside may go on for days, but you know next August you’ll be wishing for cooler weather. Be thankful for the transient nature of most discomfort.
4. Recognize that others know they’re imperfect. Others are struggling, as you are, with the imperfections and/or baggage they bring to your relationship.
5. Recognize that this world is not perfect. It will never be just the way you want it. Your complaining indicates a frustrated desire for control.
6. Don’t set yourself up to complain. If you habitually approach situations expecting to have something to complain about, you will. If you expect a day of pain, you won’t be disappointed. If you expect people at a party to ignore you, they will.
7. Bite your tongue – or less painful – press your lips together – tight! It gets easier with practice.

Can I stop others from whining?

No. But you can discourage it when you’re around.

1. Don’t respond with your own complaints. Then it becomes a contest.
2. Re-direct the subject. Turn a complaint about housework into a discussion of a new technique you read about that makes housework more efficient.
3. Listen. Let the complainer know you understand by repeating her complaint back to her in different words. Try to hear the issue behind the complaint.
4. Offer to help. If you can help alleviate the problem, good. If not, it will help the complainer realize it’s up to her to either take care of it or accept the situation. I was “explaining” to a friend about all the food I had to prepare for different functions this week. She kindly offered to prepare one of them for me. She wasn’t setting me up; she would have done it. But it shamed me into silence. This was my voluntary commitment, not hers.
5. Empower them. Ask, “Is there something you can do about it?” If the answer is “No,” express your sincere sympathy. If the answer is “Yes,” they’ll anticipate the next question: “Then why don’t you?”

When I speak of complaining here, I’m not talking about informing your doctor of  unexplained chronic pain or returning an underdone steak back to a restaurant kitchen.

I’m speaking of mindless, habitual pointless whining, which brings about no positive good. Like fear, resentment, and guilt, what I call Junk Food Attitudes, it’s an easy habit to adopt, not so easy to shed.

What do you think? Can you think of other reasons why we tend to complain? Occasions we should complain? Ways to differentiate between a legitimate complaint and a whine?

Visiting the nursing home yesterday cheered me up.

That’s not the reaction I’ve always had after such a visit. But yesterday, after helping my friend Shirley deliver library books to residents of the independent living/assisted living/nursing home across the street, I felt strangely encouraged.

At the time, I thought it was because we had recovered all but one of the books and videos we had previously delivered. But today, as I look back at the visit, I realize it was the attitudes of the residents.

Could they be depressed and self-pitying? Of course. For most, if not all of them, this is their last home. The day they moved in, they had to admit their mortality.

If they live long enough, those in the two-bedroom apartments in the Independent Living wing at the south end of the building will move to the Assisted Living wing, and as they need more constant care, to the Nursing Home wing.

As we carried our bags of books into the assisted living wing, we were greeted by Elnor, a friend and fellow church member, who seems to have a permanent smile on her face. Her book appetite is so healthy one of the bags we bring is filled with nothing but her books – eight to ten a month. She was the town librarian for more than 30 years.

With her was a gentleman who has apparently suffered a stroke, because his speech is slurred and difficult to understand. He greeted me with a compliment on the new railing across our front porch. I had no idea he knew who I was. (Apparently they talk about us after we leave.)

The three who cheered me most, though, were in the nursing home wing.

Luree has been in the nursing home for over a year. Her room is as comfortable and bright as her disposition. She was a school secretary for 32 years. She told us she enjoys the care she receives, adding that the lunch room was especially fun, because so many of the residents don’t know whether they are coming and going.

Rather than finding their condition depressing – as I often have – she finds it amusing! She’s not insensitive. I think that rather than looking at them with pity and fear of becoming like them, she chooses to see them as friends who are a little off their heads. I have never encountered that attitude before. I want to know Luree better in order to understand how she manages to maintain her sense of humor.

When we delivered books to Katie, whose need for care is evident by her dependence on an oxygen tank, she mentioned a recent stay in the local hospital. But she was not complaining. She expressed cheerful gratitude. “I’m okay. At least I still have my mind.” She was especially proud of the large purple and white bouquet from her son who had come back home last week for the county fair.

We deliver only movies to Karen. She’s unusual at the nursing home, because she appears to be in her 50’s. She’s not ambulatory; I’ve never seen her out of her chair, nor is there a walker in the room. I don’t know how long she’s been in the nursing home nor for what reason. But she radiates tranquility and kindness. I’m curious about her story, especially how she has attained such graceful acceptance of her condition.

Obviously, those we visited are still mentally capable of reading, comprehension, and communication. And I realize that in the nursing home wing, they may be in the minority.

I noted two who fit our typical expectations. One woman is noticeably weaker each time we visit. At almost 11:00 a.m., she was still in bed and fast asleep. We located the books she had borrowed and quietly left her room.

The other one I had not seen before. She was sitting in the hallway, staring blankly into space. She showed no recognition at Shirley’s greeting, even though they had been neighbors. Beside her sat an aide. That’s all she was doing, sitting quietly by the older woman’s side. And that, for the moment, was enough.

So for those who have lost their abilities to read, comprehend, or communicate, I am cheered by the kindness they receive from the nursing home aides and nurses. Bless them. I am in wonder at the length and breadth of their love and compassion.

Maybe, as I did yesterday, they receive more than they give to these warriors of life.