Last night I offered to F that we go to Mori for dinner. „No!‘ he replied. „ I don’t have the money. Nor do you.“ Blam! „Besides, we have plenty of leftover risotto.“ I was quiet: to get pissed or not? And in a minute of two I felt fine and started to prepare a leftovers dinner. During the process of which F showed me three shirts and two neckties he bought yesterday at Lawrence Covell’s sidewalk sale. I was truly happy that F had found the apparel items. Mostly, it was such a Relief to not be feeling gummed up about the dinner conversation. So spacious, to not have gotten triggered, to not have hurt feeling, to not shut down.
I’m more clearly aware that the White clan is not skilled in the emotional nuances of discourse. When one of them lobs a verbal granade, it is out of Fear or Discomfort. It’s intended for Self-Protection. If the Other Person happens to get hurt, that is not the inention.
For me, it’s aboutt moving out of the way of emotional granades. When I see one coming, to simply step aside, not get pissed that it’s been tossed. When hit , the pain is certainly real, but it’s not personal. Again, F’s intent was to protect himself, not to hurt me.