Mar 31, 2008 | 11:58 pm
It’s all your fault
That’s how a recent discussion with my mom began. “It’s all your fault…” she said, with a dramatic pause long enough to make me question my actions over the past few weeks. What did I do? What could I have possibly done wrong?
“You got that modeling clay for your nephew for Christmas and now I’m spending money on yet another art project.” She continued, “My grandson and I are having so much fun!”
What I thought was going to be some kind of scolding turned out to be a huge compliment. Of course, my mom jokingly set me up. But the feelings that passed through me in those seconds felt very real. Shame, disappointment, stupid, embarrassment, defense, frustration…
For some reason I was very aware of what those feelings were as this was happening. I knew it was my choice to hold on to the feelings, or let them go. I could act on the feelings, or pause until I had greater clarity of the situation. My choices were fight, flight, or something on a totally different plane.
Many people know the rule to not repond to an email emotionally. Email is a very poor conveyance mechanism for emotions. Why is that? Email uses words, and so do I when I speak. And therein lies a huge lesson. If I can wait to respond to an email because emotions are in control, so can I wait to respond in conversation when feelings are running the show.
Ultimately, I’m glad that I waited because what my mom was telling me was very sweet and very funny. I’m glad that I paused because when I stopped and actually listened, it was a beautiful moment. It’s all my fault? You’re welcome.
Homework:
Find a moment to stop and listen. Listen to the birds chirping, the water running, your spouse complaining, the car radio blaring… Listen for the beauty in the moment. If you can’t hear the beauty, put your ear closer. It’s there. Trust me.
Truly Yours,
Joseph Lyons

