Later, after I have climbed down from my high horse, he will tell me that he didn’t like the ride either. But, while I’m on it, while I am riding high and feeling mighty, I convince myself he’s lovin’ it.
And it only makes me madder.
It had begun with a silly comment, an incident of not too big circumstances.
I decided to take umbrage. To pick up the gritty remains and devour the bitter after taste of disagreement. To make it mine. To make it all about me.
In the moment, it was not all about me. In fact, the critter was convinced it wasn’t all about me. “You can’t keep doing what you’ve always done, Louise and expect a different outcome,” he hissed. “It’s time he decided to change and you have to stand your ground so he will.”
He’d already convinced me that I was weak. Stupid to let it go. A patsy if I simply ‘rolled over’ once again and just took it.
“Fine!” I yelled at the critter who was leaping around like a banshee in front of me. “I’ll do it your way!” And the victim slid in, shoulders slumped, head slowly shaking side to side. “Good idea. Your way never works anyway and if you keep giving in, they’ll just keep walkin over you again and again.”
Talking it out is my game. But, when I’m emotionally charged, when I have donned the cloak of self-righteousness, my talking it out is more like the inquisition. Fires burning, hellfire awaiting if you don’t answer correctly — and the correct way is with the words I want to hear, not yours, btw!
Talking it out wasn’t working so, to prove my point, I slipped into silence.
Not the beautiful, graceful, silence of solitude and contemplation. I didn’t heed John Chryssavgis words to use my silence as “the pause that holds together … all the words, both spoken and unspoken.” I didn’t allow silence to be “the glue that connects our attitudes and our actions.”
I let it become my weapon. My burden. My guilt.
I don’t do angry silence well. (Does anyone?)
In fact, in playing the silence game I can make myself sick. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Because, when emotionally charged, what I’m really hearing is not reason, but rather the critter’s call to ‘teach ’em a lesson’ and not be the first to get accountable for my own actions.
The critter isn’t interested in my emotional well-being or ensuring I am living up to my higher good or for being accountable — it’s not my fault anyway, remember?
The critter only wants to protect. To stave off change so it can maintain status quo.
The critter likes discord. In discord, the critter doesn’t need to yell, he simply needs to hold his ground and let my victim story have its way with me.
We all have a victim story. That story that we repeat in times of distress that tells of all the wrongs, all the sorrows, all the woes we’ve experienced — and how they were not, “all my fault”, but rather someone else’s.
The victim likes to lay blame, as long as it doesn’t land at our own doorstep.
The victim likes to be right, as long as it’s about how everyone else has hurt us, lied to us, abused us, brought us down, been mean, stupid, blind…
The victim cares only about survival, and, as long as it doesn’t have to give up its protective veneer of innocence and being unjustly treated, the victim will do anything to appear like it is strong and knows the way out of the darkness. Problem is, in the darkness, the victim can’t see because its back is turned to the light of truth — there is only one way to peace and that is through Love.
I fell into the critter’s discord and awoke to the victim’s convincing litany of reason’s why it wasn’t my job to step out of it.
It had nothing to do with what someone else had said or done.
It had everything to do with my decision to hold onto what was causing me distress and not give into reason calling me to let it go.
Fortunately, I learned a valuable lesson through discord.
I learned that I do not serve myself, or anyone else, well when I play down to my lesser self urging me to DIVE! Take cover. Man the parapets and get ready to battle.
Battle never has to happen if I choose to lay down my guns and open my arms up to peace.
I don’t have to forge into the wilds of despair if I choose instead to do the right thing and take the loving path to peace, harmony and joy.