Conflict

“One thing you who had secure or happy childhoods should understand about those of us who did not. We who control our feelings, who avoid conflicts at all costs, or seem to seek them. Who are hypersensitive, self-critical, compulsive, workaholic, and above all survivors. We are not that way from perversity, and we cannot just relax and let it go. We’ve learned to cope in ways you never had to.”
― Piers Anthony

I hate conflict.  But I also sometimes create it or add to it.  Sometimes my feelings bubble up and I can’t hold them back and they come spilling out in a mess.  And I spend a LOT of time apologizing for that when it happens.  I know how much it sucks, and for someone who hates conflict it is the literal worst.  It feels like I betray myself.

Otherwise, I avoid conflict with anyone I care about. Even if it has nothing to do with me.  Even if I have a legitimate beef with you… Even if I caught you lying.. if you were mean or unfair or cruel.. even if you were the one that treated me badly, my tendency is to want to take the hit if it will just end this gnashing of teeth.  The FIRST thing I think when anyone I care about is upset is, “what did I do?”  I apologize for my feelings.  I apologize for wanting.  I apologize for being a mess and for needing.  I apologize for having felt hurt.  

The Crystal Ball Broke

 

It starts out whole, crystal clear and flawless.  It begins.  It is honed and shined and unblemished.  You made it and it’s beautiful. And then it comes, the first little crack. You said that and they knew what you were doing.  A small occlusion from the jarring.  But it wasn’t that bad. The sun still glints the same way.  The ribbon of refracted light is still perfect.

crack.

crick.

crack.

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And the light bends.  The rays just don’t fall the same.  You’re losing colors..violet.. blue.. fading in your rakishly high tales.  It’s still shiny and see through.  It’s still beautiful.  It’s still a treasure.  The weight and heft are left.  The shape is still smooth.  You can see the ribbon in there but we all think it’s okay.  It’s just the tiniest bit of damage.  And you’re sorry.  That was a one time thing, right?  We were just scared or sorry or confused or not ready.  We were thoughtless.

snap.

crack.

The little bitty cracks add up though.  Each one is like a teeny ball peen hammer.. ting… ting…

It’s a small deep crevice there in the middle.  The rainbow leaves.  But it’s still bright.  It’s still light.  It slides and tumbles in your hand. We whistle in our fake nonchalance.  It’s fine.  It’s fine.  Still so smooth.  But is that a rift?

CRACK!

snip.

tinkle.

The rift has reached the edge and you can feel the craze.  Your fingers worry it like a loose tooth.  They run over it and over it but they can’t make it smooth.  It’s there.  And you’re losing light.  It’s getting trapped in there, bouncing around off of the things you broke, the jagged edges in there.  You tell another one.  It’s easier now and though the consequences are more dire, you’re less concerned.  Do you not see it?  Or do you just care less?

CRACK….. snap… tinkle.

A sliver is shaved off and falls.  The rift has veins in several directions now, so much closer to the surface, and the ragged creviced edge has its own facets.  Do you not know how to stop it?  Do you not see it?  A whole side is gray and lifeless, unreachable.  The light that enters mostly dies.  And it feels inevitable, doesn’t it?  You say another one, another.  You can’t even smile while you do it anymore, can you?  Do you shrug?  Do you sting?  Is it like you can’t help yourself? Or are you numb?

We point our palms at the ground and our walk works to pulverize the shards.

 

Stop Drinking Poison

Some people say resentment is the number one offender.  True… so true.

Emerson Quote

Everyone we love fucks up.  They hurt us.  Maybe they are a giant asshole, or maybe they are just human.  Maybe they are wonderful and made a mistake.  Maybe they are vile and must be avoided.  Either way… sometimes we develop and cradle and house resentment, and it destroys us and destroys our happiness and our peace and our love.  Someone has stabbed us and we have grabbed the knife and are plunging in again and again and again.

Sometimes we are wronged and hurt.  It happens.  People are not actually against us, but sometimes they are for themselves.  Sometimes they don’t think.  Sometimes they are focused elsewhere.  Sometimes they’re being selfish or narrow minded or cruel.  Sometimes they are afraid.  Sometimes they don’t know how to do the right thing.  Sometimes they think they are due something or fighting for something or willing to climb our backs for things.  Some of these people cannot be trusted and we have to alter our relationship with them, and sometimes we love them and want them in our lives.

Either way, it’s a bad idea to resent them.