I got a text recently to go to a book signing for someone I knew. I couldn’t imagine why she wanted me there. She had been treating me rudely for quite a while, for no reason that I was aware of. I had asked her why she was angry at me and she claimed to have no idea what I was talking about. I tried not to take it personally. I’d seen her direct her anger at other people. That was her way. But I didn’t want to be target practice for her, just to be supportive. I didn’t want to be anybody’s whipping post. Life was too short. It was also too short for me to go to her event but I was faced with a dilemma.
How would I refuse the invite? By text or phone? Angrily or calmly? I had an urge to speak harshly to her, to be blaming and abasing. I didn’t think that she should get away with how she was treating me. My anger rose up just thinking about it. I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine? I wanted to send her a scathing text and dump my rage on her. I wanted to take a page out of her playback, crumple it up and throw it at her.
I decided to take a pause. Making a decision in the throes of anger never turns out well so I began to mull things over in my mind. I knew better than to blame her for my feelings, but I needed to get rid of the anger. Would yelling at her make me feel better? Would turning the tables on her make me feel better? Would treating her like crap make me feel better? Would losing my temper and calling her names make me feel better? I wanted to do all of those things but would any of them make me feel better?
A day or so later, I had my answer. It was “no” to all of the above questions. It was also “no” to the invitation. That was clear but I thought about who I wanted to be in this life. How I wanted to live. Would I be a punisher or a redeemer? How did I want to treat
people who weren’t kind to me? Meanly or compassionately? How did I want to be treated? Kindly or cruelly? I came to realize that if I dumped my anger on this woman, I’d be living my life her way. If I calmed down and tried to let it go, I’d be living my life my way.
In order to be at peace with my decision, I needed to find what Buddhist call “the middle way,” a place between attachment and abandonment. A place between chaos and serenity. A place where
even if we don’t get what we want, we can find peace. That was what I chose, although I have to admit that I felt slightly disappointed when I decided to take the high road. I had this juicy pent up anger that I wanted to spew but no good can come of adding poison to an already toxic world. How this woman felt about me was unimportant in the scheme of things and I came to see that my anger was about much more than the current situation. It was much broader than that. Its tributaries ran throughout my life – the idea that life is unfair. That
good people don’t always win. That innocent people get hurt. I had to decide if my revenge was more important than finding compassion. I wanted to find a way to step out of her line of fire and stop the war.
There is a martial arts form called Aikido. It’s purpose is to resolve conflict peacefully by redirecting an attacker’s force against themselves. That means stepping aside when someone throws a punch. Suddenly they’re punching into the wind. This art form doesn’t rely on strength or size, but rather on movement and timing. Instead of returning a blow, it’s about getting out of the way. I answered the text with one of my own, thanking her for the invitation and telling her I would have to decline. I didn’t offer a reason. I didn’t have to and I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be blaming but I didn’t want to be cloying either, overly kind and acting like everything was okay. If she didn’t like my refusal, she would have nothing to push against but herself.
I once ended a four year relationship with a man who moved in with someone else immediately. That very night. He said he hadn’t been seeing her but that seemed unlikely considering the timing. I really didn’t know and it didn’t matter. What I did know was that while I was grieving the loss of a relationship, he was falling in love. It seemed so unfair. He had shared an American Express card with me and before he cancelled it, I reviewed the statement that arrived in the mail. He had bought flowers twice and charged a meal in a fancy restaurant. I was enraged. I wanted him to suffer as much as I was and I wanted to scream at him, but what was the point? I’d be a woman scorned instead of a someone who accepted what life had
to offer her, no matter how painful. My happiness didn’t depend on anyone else. I could buy myself flowers, sings Miley Cyrus.
I don’t want to give the impression here that it was easy to make that choice. I never got to the point where I felt happy for him. That was a little too advanced for me. I can’t say that I forgave him. The way I see it, forgiveness is a multi faceted act that needs to be repeated over and over. I can’t say that I completely let it go. I can say that I got to the point where I stopped obsessing and resenting him. A few
months later, when I heard that he and the girlfriend split up, I felt a moment of victory, like I’d won. But there was nothing to win. Whatever he was doing had nothing to do with me.
“Success is the best revenge,” said Frank Sinatra. I considered myself successful and I still do. I’ve created a wonderful life for myself filled with creativity and accomplishment. I have a loyal group of friends. I’ve worked hard to find the courage to face my fears and revel in my victories. My solace has always been in my writing where
I lose myself and tell the truth on the page. And that’s enough.
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