Throwing Someone Else's Instrument
Earlier this week I yelled at my husband for leaving all of his tools and electronics and boxes of wire from his truck on the couches in our living room for 5 days straight. At the time I believed I would be absolved of any crime I felt I had to commit in any court of law order in order to restore order to my own house but then our son said "one day I'll tell you how much I hate it when you two fight" and I had the tiniest notion that losing my mind, huffing, puffing and screaming like a maniac might not be the best way to achieve the harmony I desire.
I texted my husband "I'm sorry I was an asshole" and he texted that he was sorry back. At dinner that night I pointed out to our son that at least when we fight we get over it quickly unlike some people who never fight but silently hate each other for years. Dinner that night was delicious and I even wore a frilly apron and smiled with true pleasure all while the mounds and piles in the living room stood their ground. But after the storm passed I could ignore them with ease.
Of course I wish it didn't feel like imploding or exploding were my only two options but even with meditation and yoga and 12 step meetings and a therapist I haven't found a way to bypass the fights altogether. This summer, on the way to a fun event with family and friends, we had what I later described as a "divorce level fight about fried chicken." What was it really about? Me wanting to get my way, obviously.
I have been using the book everyone else is using to clear out my spaces and corners and closets and drawers, The author clearly states that if you are angry about someone else's mess there's probably still more of your own to clean up and yes, that is certainly true and wise and deep and doesn't only refer to errant piles and unpacked boxes. I just can't always remember to keep the focus on my mess alone. The symphony plays beautifully but when I'm out of tune there are times I feel I can do nothing less than throw someone else's instrument.