Most of us know that backbiting – aka gossiping – is bad.  But Baha’u'llah, the founder of the Baha’i Faith told us that it’s more than bad, it’s actually  one of the worst possible things we can do.  That’s because gossiping is a spiritual crime that harms the soul, not just of the speaker, but also of the listener and the person being talked about.  My understanding is that backbiting is worse than physically harming another person, precisely because it is a spiritual crime.

I admit it, I struggle with this.  Not just because our (American) culture loves to gossip, but because sometimes I’m not sure exactly what counts as backbiting.  Some of it’s obvious – (Did you see her dress?  What was she thinking?  And that hair!  My dog could do a better job with a weed wacker!).   But unfortunately, some of it is less so.

Here’s my problem: I like to tell stories.  It’s how I deal with life. 

I usually try to “write” the stories so that they make the listener laugh, but sometimes I know it’s just for me to blow off steam.  I generally tell stories about myself, making myself the butt of the joke.  But as a mom, I sometimes (all right, often) tell stories about my kids.  And here’s the crux of the issue: does telling stories about my kids constitute backbiting?

I’m worried that sometimes the answer is yes. 

I suppose when I’m talking about something they’ve done well, it’s ok. As long as the listener won’t be offended by my “bragging.” 

The danger is when they’ve done something that I am, shall we say, less than pleased about.   I suspect that the answer can be found in my intention.  If I’m trying to get help or advice, and I don’t talk in a way that is disrespectful of my kids, then I’m probably all right.  But what about those times when I’m talking about how ridiculous my kid is being, or how obnoxious, or how out of control?  I think when this happens, I’m usually engaging in a game of parental one-upsmanship.  “You think that’s bad?  Let me tell you what Johnny did!”  Looking at it this way, it’s hard to argue that it isn’t backbiting.

Adib Tahirzedeh, a very wise and deepened Baha’i, was once asked how to figure out if you’re backbiting.  He answered, “When you start to enjoy yourself!” 

I guess I ought to apply the same litmus test I would use when talking about a friend: if I wouldn’t tell the story in front of her, then I probably shouldn’t be telling it in her absence.  Unless I am genuinely looking for advice on what to do. 

Whew.  This could be tough.  I’m not used to editing stories about my kids, but I can see that this is something I need to start doing.  ESPECIALLY when they have been particularly taxing.  

But Nature abhors a vacuum, which means that I can’t just NOT talk negatively about my kids, I have to find something to do instead when the urge hits me.  But what?

Baha’u'llah tells us that “a thought of hate must be replaced by an even stronger thought of love.”  In this case, it’s not hate but lack of respect.  So perhaps I should replace it with a thought of respect? 

Wow, what does that look like? 

Let’s take a hypothetical situation that we can all relate to: My child is throwing very dramatic temper tantrums. 

“Old Me” might say, “Wow, Sammy has been quite the drama queen this week!  The tantrums she can throw, it’s really quite impressive.  She tips over chairs, stomps her feet, and knocks things over.  It’s hysterical, really.  It’s hard not to laugh out loud!”

The words “mocking” and ”sarcastic” come to mind; definitely not respectful.  What would “New Me” say? 

Well, saying nothing whatsoever is always an option, but I could also say something like, “Wow, Sammy has been having a tough time lately.  She’s working on learning how to control strong emotions like anger, but you remember how hard that can be.  I wish I could help her, but when she gets herself wound up, there doesn’t seem to be much I can do to help her.”

Does that sound any better?  It feels more respectful, but is it backbiting?

I just don’t know.  Do you?