Big Bluster Blows My Way

Wow. Felt emotionally “hit” two times this past week. In one instance a person intensely rebuked me for saying we liked to use recycled toilet paper to prevent logging of the Boreal Forest for tissue. The second “hit” came from a person who felt surprised, disgusted, and let down that someone like me would use incorrect grammar/slang (her pet peeve) in a text. Oh my.

With all the dire unrest in the world I do not want to waste my energy nursing petty hurts. Yet here I am, a day later, feeling stricken by the strong energy and words directed at me. What to do?

I write in my journal. I felt slammed and shaken. Feeling “made wrong/bad” is an old hurt. No where to run. I sit and ground myself. Observe the tightness in my chest, constricted breath, thorny thoughts, and feelings arising…and eventually passing.

For me, this was not about saving trees or grammar usage but about speaking up for myself. In one instance, I said, “we have hit a nerve,” and then froze refusing to discuss the heated topic. What was really going on under the intense words - in me and them? I managed as well as I could. It is big work attempting to respond versus react when feeling confronted.

Then recently, with the best of intentions, I blundered big time by not respecting a family member’s wishes. Trouble headed my way (of course). What was remarkable about this miscommunication was I heard the hurt my actions caused, validated the other’s perspective, explained my misguided good intentions, and apologized without falling into the hole of I am “so bad, wrong.” 

After open, honest clarifying conversations on both sides my precious family member said, “An absolutely beautiful repair…more healing than you know.”  A miracle.

In each instance I was grateful for my journal.

My journal – always there helping me to honor and hold my emotions, observe all sides, reflect on what happened, and ponder what I might do a little differently in the future.