A blog intensifying the flavor of life and toasting those who share in the feast, rather than settling for a dry, plain, melba toast existence.

Friday, March 11, 2016

the right words

Words are everything to me and at 5 o'clock this morning I realized: I may have used the wrong ones.

This may explain the unrest and uneasiness following a recent conflict in which I became embroiled. Until I have communicated, I will keep trying--editing the conversation in my head, searching for the right words and the correct order in which to arrange them. It does not matter how poetic one is if the message shared falls among the rocks instead of penetrating the heart of the listener.

I wondered if the conversation could have been different if I had said "unteachable" instead of "will not take direction." Unteachable implies a state of not being able to be taught, perhaps by anyone, while not taking direction could be a failure on my part to give clear expectations.

If I had said "uncooperative" instead of "unwilling to communicate," a similar scenario is formed. An uncooperative person chooses not to get along with anyone whereas someone unwilling to communicate may not feel safe sharing her thoughts and ideas with me.

Or maybe the whole thing was doomed to failure from the beginning. For what purpose? I may never know.

Failure can be a heavy burden until I find the appropriate wire cutters to release myself from the ball and chain of regret that wants now to be my best friend. I cannot be too hasty since it is in moments of deepest pain that character is forged. I need to allow myself to feel deeply the angst, the anger--even if it is provoked--before giving it all a heave-ho into the abyss of forgetfulness. I will never forget certain affronts. I can only hope to forget how much they hurt.

Forgiveness comes to me from a source greater than me, producing in my heart something I cannot create on my own. I call him God. He knows my heart better than I know it myself and he has spent a great deal of my development healing it so he knows every wound. He forgives me. I then work at forgiving myself, which for me is far more difficult than forgiving someone else.

Conflict can be filled with irony. The action I may desire to take on another, causing her to fall apart emotionally, may be the exact thing she has already done to me. During the heat of the battle the tactics one uses can speak volumes. Emotional expression can be genuine or manipulative. Lack of emotional expression can indicate a hardness of heart or just plain weariness. Judgements are made in split-second intervals and before anyone can breathe, what has been said has been said. It cannot be taken back. Ever.

Apologizing is not the same as forgiving. I am often confused by an apology--especially the quick ones. Are you sorry for what you have done to hurt me or are you sorry it happened and you got caught?

The first words out of my mouth when I was in a car accident were "I'm sorry" which I would regret as the guy who totaled my mini-van fought back insisting that we were both at fault. What I had said became an admission of guilt. I was sorry it happened--that a guy had not taken the time to look in my direction even though I had the right of way. I am often sorry when someone chooses to do something to hurt me even though it is not deserved. I do not enjoy the conflict or the fallout afterward, as it forces me to expend my time and energy sweeping up the broken pieces of my heart and praying they can be put together. Again.

But if there is anything at all I have learned from conflict it is this: It will happen again. I will not harden my heart thinking I will protect myself next time. It will hurt. Lessons learned from old mistakes will fall by the wayside as new mistakes are made. We are human. We do the best we can and then we move on.

We can become teachable.

We can learn to cooperate.








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