Eavesdropping Through Facebook

The other day, I stumbled upon something … uncomfortable.

I was on Facebook, and was reading a comment from one of “my” friends asking if something she was responding to was a joke or not.

I’m always up for a good joke, so I followed her post back to her friend’s wall — and followed up the string of comments to get to the start of the joke.

Here is where it got uncomfortable…

 

The actual initial post was from a woman who was very upset with her husband for spending so much time on Facebook… that the only way to talk to him is to post, publicly, her dissatisfaction with their marriage… hoping that he will read it… and respond… since they no longer speak to each other in person.

A number of her caring friends chime in, giving her support… followed by her husband’s heated and degrading response… followed by the wife’s hurt and debasing response back… followed by more friends trying to calm down the verbal domestic feud that was playing out in front of their eyes.  This went on and on — getting more and more intense and insulting with each post.

Again, I have no idea who these people are.  I just clicked onto a post MY friend had left, which suggested that there was a joke being told… or played on someone.

And I started wondering if this couple was actually playing a joke on their friends, as my friend suspected.

Just a couple of days prior to this post, I had read an article on another one of my social online networks.  It outlined how to break up with someone — and no, it wasn’t full of hate and anger.

Basically, it listed a bunch of things to do and not to do — all focusing on treating the other person with respect — no matter who and why you’re breaking up.

I began to wonder if the two events were connected, somehow.

Even though I didn’t know this couple, we had our mutual friend… and — most probably — are on the same social online networks…

So, I began to wonder if they ran into the same article as I did — because they were managing to do everything the article had said NOT to do…and doing it in such a public manner.

• They listed each other’s character flaws.  [Don’t do that.]
• They were talking about breaking up in the heat of a fight.  [Don’t do that.]
• They were being insulting, condescending, and belittling.  [Don’t do that.]
• They blamed the other and deflected responsibility from themselves.  [Don’t do that.]
• They splattered the details of their breakup all over the Internet (well, on Facebook).  [Don’t do that.]
• They were forcing their (Facebook) friends to choose sides, as it were.  [Don’t do that.]

No… No…No…

The more I thought about it the more I thought my friend was right… This had to be a joke.

Too much of a coincidence.  This had to be a joke.

The next time I got together with my friend, I asked about this couple on Facebook.  She’s not sure but she really thinks it’s all a joke, because this couple is always playing jokes on each other… and it seems that this joke has expanded out to their friends.  Plus, their profile pictures haven’t changed—which was the two of them in a loving embrace.  Both his and her profile pictures were the same… and united in that way.

Yeah… sounds like a joke was being played…

A couple of days later, I got curious and tried to find the link back to that post, but it has disappeared…

Yeah… sounds like a joke had been played…

It serves me right for eavesdropping through Facebook…

.

When You’re In Over Your Head

Guess what!  I’ve just been thrown another fragile porcelain figurine to juggle—adding to an already dangerous collection….

And you know what I told the person who was trying to push it into my hands?

I said I can’t handle another thing.  Could that person deal with it?

 

And you know what?

Although this person got irritated with me, she took hold of the problem and dealt with it!!

In the process, she learned that she was as competent as I was and didn’t really need me to handle the situation for her.

Halleluiah!!!

The Relationship between Mental and Physical Health

My 87-year-old mother is in the hospital with congestive heart failure.  For years, the doctors have told her that she needs to replace the valve in her heart, but she doesn’t want the operation because she’s afraid of having a stroke on the table—which is a risk.

But we can’t talk about any type of surgery now…

All we’re concerned about at the moment is getting Mom’s meds managed, getting her back on her feet, and getting her strong enough to get her home.  To do that, she’ll have to go to a rehabilitation center to regain her strength.

And before she can do that, the doctors have to get her meds managed so she’s stable enough to be discharged from the hospital.

As each day passes and new symptoms (and consequences of past trial-and-error medicines) surface, an increasingly thick layer of depression and misery hangs around.

Doctors are giving Mom a mixture of meds, trying to stabilize her, but I’m as concerned about Mom’s mental attitude as much as her physical health.  One feeds the other and vice versa.  The mixture of meds, which are causing a chemical imbalance, is also creating an emotional imbalance which is affecting her moods, outlook, and her overall health.

I’ve given up trying to contribute in this situation.  My presence is met with criticism and rebuttal.  Her extended family has rallied around her, and nothing I say or suggest is credited with any value.  They all know better than I, and I’m dismissed as soon as I arrive.    

On one hand, I’m hurt by this; but on the other hand, I’m released from the responsibility.  There are doctors and nurses in our family who are more knowledgeable than I, in this particular area. 

I know that everything happens for a reason and will work out the way it is meant to work out. 

And, even though all we can do is take one day at a time, it's hard to convince the rest of them of this unchanging and natural law...

But then again, tomorrow is another day and brings with it another chance to do better…




.

Why Does Every Encounter Have to End As a Power Struggle?

Warning!!  Venting Zone Ahead!

Thank goodness I have Friday off.  It’s the beginning of the week, and I’m already fed up with the office for the week! 

My main frustration regarding the “professional" (?) work environment — in which I spend 50 hours a week — is the fact that those working there don’t respect each other.  They don’t have the attitude of working together… of collaboration… of supporting cooperation… of sustaining healthy relationships with one another.

Why does every encounter have to turn into a power struggle around here?  

Why can’t a person have a pleasant conversation with someone in the kitchen, without being reprimanded for it? 

Why are employees so focused on covering their butts, instead of focused on working together to come up with solutions?

Yeah… I’m frustrated…

All of this goes against my core value system.  I don’t like being a part of a company that has avoiding responsibility, bullying, and blaming others running freely through its vein-like corridors.  

People go around assuming the worst of others, jumping to negative conclusions, and accusing others instead of accepting the consequences of their own actions.  

This behavior is practiced and encouraged by the Head of the division; therefore, it’s understandable why this type of behavior permeates throughout the workplace. 

When I complain, they simply shrug.  If you don’t like the office politics, you’re welcome to leave.  You’re expendable… replaceable… disposable…

The saddest part is that if/when I do leave, I’ll find that the next place will be the same or even worse…

Yeah… Friday’s not coming soon enough for me…

.

Unfulfilled Expectations

Well, the first deadline set by the graphic artist has passed, unceremoniously — with no email, call, or sign from him that we’re any closer to getting published.  When we email him to ask how he’s doing, we get no response…

So… yeah…. sadly, that means that there's nothing more to report on that front… other than growing frustration and diminishing patience on my part.

What’s our next step?  Waiting for the next deadline, I guess,… which is in a couple of weeks.

If that one passes without a sign of life from this graphic artist, I’ll suggest to Katherine that we’ll need to figure out another path to take—because doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of stupidity. 

. 

Graphics Update

The other day, we met with the graphic artist at my house.  The meeting went well… I think. 

We’re all on the same page, again… I think. 

When it became clear that my words weren’t doing the job in explaining my vision for the cover, I attempted to sketch out what I was seeing in my mind’s eye.   

The penciled sketch was able to give a tangible image to the message we wanted, and Katherine shared this rough sketch with the graphic artist.  

To his credit, he didn’t laugh or scoff at it.   He actually said it was quite helpful, and what we wanted was “doable.”   

The graphic artist even asked if he could take a copy of the sketch with him. 

Without missing a beat, Katherine asked for a copy (signed and dated) for herself, so she could put it up at her home…

I’m now imagining my sketch tacked on her refrigerator — where, of course, all great artwork is displayed. 

It’ll sit amidst a number of colorful Picasso-like pictures her 7-year-old son has done for her — and with them sitting side-by-side, it’ll be hard to tell who drew which…

.

But Where’s My Piece of Cake?!

Yes, I enjoyed the women’s retreat.  I really did, but do you remember that little carrot — no, that piece of chocolate cake — that Katherine dangled in front of me to get me there?

We were supposed to have time together to work on our book.  We were supposed to finish the new section that Katherine wanted added.  This weekend was supposed to move us leaps and bounds ahead on this project.

Well, as you may have guessed, that didn’t quite happen. 

So, everything is postponed for a bit longer…

.

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?!

 

I ask myself this question almost daily now…  

What have I gotten myself into?!

Katherine and I made lunch plans to work on — what I had hoped would be — the finishing touches of the final version of our book. 

Yes, I’m still trying to encourage Katherine — short of chaining her to a chair — to sit still long enough for us to put this first project to bed.  She still needs to read the book through — cover to cover — and give the OK for us to move on.  We can’t move forward until she does that.

You see, Katherine — lovely person that she is — suffers from two common, modern-day diseases. 

#1:    She’s a master “multitasker” — She doesn’t focus on one thing for any length of time.  She’s involved in three or four things at a time.  She’s late for most things because she over-commits.  She tends to cancel things at the last minute... because she over-promises from the start… 

#2:    She’s also a perfectionist — She’s never satisfied with what she has accomplished.  She always wants more… always striving for more.  Projects are never “completed” because they can always be better.

How does all this affect the progress of our book?  Well, the fact that she can’t devote 30 minutes at a time, to sit down and read the book, makes it difficult for her to get through the entire book…

And when she does sit down for a couple of minutes at a time, she thinks of all the things we don’t have in the book, instead of focusing on what we have tackled in the book.  I swear that she wants this first book to capture all the answers to every question uttered by every man and woman who lived on Planet Earth… starting with Adam and Eve.

Now, mix in my impatience with her tendencies toward multitasking and perfectionism — well, let’s just say that we’re getting nowhere fast on completing the final draft of our book together.

I was really hoping that our lunch meeting would move us leaps and bounds ahead; and I was encouraged when she pulled out her laptop and started booting it up. 

But those hopes were squashed when she mentioned that, in her haste to meet me, she forgot to bring the printed manuscript that contained all her notes.  Without that printed manuscript, we couldn’t discuss her changes…but she knew she wanted to add yet another section to the book, so it would encompass even more….

As I choked down my disappointment, I agreed to work on a new section with her, because it would add to the book… but she had to promise me that this was going to be the last time!!  This adding more and more stuff had to stop at some point!!  We can’t publish the book if we never finish writing it!!

Yes, yes… she agreed.

I asked when we could get together again to pull together that new section.

Katherine:  “Well, let me think.  It’ll have to wait for a couple of weeks, because I’ve got all this other stuff to do...”


Me:  “Katherine, I don’t want another two months to go by…”


Katherine:  “I know, I know… but… I don’t have any free time…. unless…OH!  unless…”

When she outlined her plan to me, all I could think of was….

Now what have I gotten myself into?!

.

The Backlash

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you would have run into a number of posts stressing the need to accept responsibility for your actions while, at the same time, allowing others to accept the consequences of their own actions. 

Well, a friend of mine is beginning to do that with her 20-something-year-old daughter.  She’s stepping away and taking back her life — allowing her daughter to take ownership of her own life.

This move, on my friend’s part, is very hard for her… and her daughter.

Cassandra, my friend, wants to be a supportive and loving mother.  In fulfilling this need of hers, she has given her daughter all that she has — bailing the daughter out of one mess after another. 

Looking back over her life, she realizes that, while she has given up everything for her daughter, her sacrifices have gone unnoticed.  Now, she finds herself financially strapped and emotionally drained. 

The daughter is in no better shape.  Over the years, the daughter has developed an attitude of “entitlement” that was once only reserved for royalty.  The daughter has been taught to expect her mother to fulfill her every need, without question or appreciation.  The daughter has never had to accept responsibility for her own actions, nor deal with the consequences that result from those actions.  Her mother always stepped in to shield her from herself.  

Both individuals in this story are searching for their own identities.  Both are struggling to stand on their own… crying out to be seen and heard — to be loved for who they are…

Cassandra wants things to change for her daughter and for herself.  For this to happen, she has started to step away from situations — allowing the daughter to step up and take ownership of her own life.

Once Cassandra starts to step away, the backlash begins.  It's a strong wave of reality crashing down on the daughter.  

This is painful for both of them.

The daughter is hit so hard that it throws her off-balance.  In response, she does the only thing she knows to get her footing back.  She blames her mother for her situation.  She gives the mother the icy stares and the cold, silent treatment — shutting the mother out of her life — waiting for the mother to break down and fix things…

Cassandra is struggling with her decision.  Was it the right thing to do?  Was it the right time to do it? 

Oh, if only she could turn back the hands of time and start all over again, but she can’t.  She can only go forward…

Will her daughter ever understand why her mother did this? 

Will Cassandra be strong enough to see this through? 

.

If It’s Such Good Advice, Why Not Follow It?

I’m awakened by the piercing ring of my phone.  I roll over, planning to let the answering machine deal with the caller, until I hear my friend’s upset voice being recorded.

I stumble to the phone and manage to pick it up before she slips away in the shadows of my sleepy haze. 

Rachel is unnerved.  She finds herself in the middle of a very volatile and emotional situation.  Before she acts upon her instincts, she wants to pass the plan by me — her logical, objective, and stable friend, who always gives her good advice.

She gives me the background of her situation, describes her dilemma, and outlines her plan of attack.  Once she blurts everything out, she asks what I think of her plan.

I try to calm her down, so she can clearly understand what I’m about to say.  I tell her that, if I were in her situation, I wouldn’t do what she’s planning to do.  I foresee that her current course of action would create more problems than solve them.  Instead, I would do ‘such-and-such’.

She listens, understands the reasoning, and agrees that her plan of action would aggravate the situation.  She thanks me for my advice and hangs up.

Thirty minutes later, the phone rings again.  It’s Rachel… in tears.  She admits that I was right.  She should have followed my advice, but she went with her plan, instead.  Doing it her way did, indeed, make things worse. 

Rachel:  “Now, what do I do?  I’m thinking of going to him and doing ‘this-and-that.’”

Me:  “No, I wouldn’t do ‘this-and-that’ if I were you.  I would do ‘such-and-such’ instead.  Neither of you are in the right emotional state to deal with this rationally at this time.  If you continue on this path of yours, you’ll make it even worse.”

Rachel:  “You’re right, of course.  You’ve given me great advice.  Let me hang up with you and do what you suggest.”

An hour later, the phone rings again.  It’s Rachel… in tears.  She, once again, admits that I was right.  She should have followed my advice, but she went with her plan, instead.  Doing it her way did, indeed, make things much worse. 

Rachel:  “Now, what do I do?  I’m thinking of going back and doing ‘this-and-that.’”

Me:  “No, I wouldn’t do ‘this-and that’ if I were you.  I would disengage at this point.  You need to step back and let things settle down.  Don’t do anything more to agitate the situation.  Neither of you are in the right emotional state to deal with this rationally at this time.  If you continue on this path of yours, you’ll make it even worse.”

Rachel:  “Yes, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing… I can’t let…”

Me:    “I know it’s hard for you, but you’ll going to have to step back and let things settle down.  You’ll have to let things 'just be'... for a while.”

Rachel:  “I see where you’re coming from.  Thanks for the advice.  I’ll let you get some rest.”

Another hour passes, and the phone rings.  It’s Rachel again.  She's set up a meeting with him, tonight.  She's leaving in a few minutes.  She wants to discuss the matter further— even though an hour ago, he was so angry, and she’s very afraid of what he might say or do when they meet…

Me:  “Rachel!  Why are you meeting him?!  I told you to disengage… that means to disconnect.  That means NOT to talk with him, NOT to meet with him, NOT to see him!  Stop all contact with him until things settle down!”

Rachel:  “I know, but I can’t let things sit.  It’s not in my nature.  I can’t just wait things out.  I know you’re right, but it’s too late.  I can’t turn back.”

Me:  “Rachel!  Don’t go!”

Rachel:  “I have to…”

And the phone line goes dead.

.

Yes, Even in a Car Repair Shop

I believe that I’ve told you (many times before) that I am not a patient person — but I’ll tell you once more, because…

I recently had to take my car in for repairs.  After 5½ hours of waiting, I was finally told the amount of ransom needed to secure both my and my car’s release.

It was a long, long day for me.

It’s not like I didn’t plan it all out, either.  I knew I had to wait for the repairs, so I tried to reduce my waiting time as much as possible.  I called the day before and explained my situation.  I made an appointment with the manager, to make sure that my car would be taken care of in a timely manner, that parts would be ordered, etc.

I was told that the repair would take 2 hours, and that’s what I expected.  I did not expect the 5½ hours that it turned out to be.

Knowing my impatient nature, I did bring a book with me, to keep me distracted — but instead of keeping me distracted from what was going on around me, it heightened my sensitivity to it.

The book I brought was The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work (by John M. Gottman, Ph.D. and Nan Silver).  In the book, the authors focused on the importance of respect and honor in healthy relationships — e.g., in a friendship, a marriage, or work-related encounters, etc.

This day at the repair shop just reinforced that message for me.

You see, the manager, Brandon, and I had formed a comfortable connection over the two days we’ve been discussing my car problem.  We had a pleasant and respectful rapport going.  He answered my questions and… well, treated me as an equal.  He treated me with respect and honor.

Even though I am an impatient person, I was willing to sit there for however long it took for my car to be fixed, because I trusted that the manager had my best interest in mind — and, unfortunately, I had no other choice.

Two hours into my sentence, a different person — I’ll refer to him as Mr. Jerk — bellowed out into the waiting room, searching for the person who belonged to the Ford Focus.  I raised my hand and went to meet him at the counter.  Before I reached the counter, he started with his condescending tone, mumbling a list of recommendations that “must be” done.  He started pushing me to use their credit card, ignoring my responses and reasons for wanting to handle the payment differently. Another employee tried to step in and have Mr. Jerk stop badgering me, but Mr. Jerk ignored that voice of reason.

I could feel my frustration and irritation rising with every breath Mr. Jerk took.  Every phrase he uttered dripped with mockery, disguised as teasing.  Simply put:  I had no desire to deal with this person; but, at the same time, I knew I couldn’t make Mr. Jerk change his behavior toward me.

It’s sad to admit, but we — women, in particular — have been conditioned to be smile sweetly and take this type of behavior.  Don’t try to understand what’s going on under the hood of the car.  Just pay the mechanics whatever they tell you.  Don’t rock the boat.  Don’t make a scene in public.  Just sit there and take it.

Unfortunately for Mr. Jerk, I’m of a different opinion.  I believe everyone — me, included — should be treated with respect — even in a car repair shop.

So, knowing that 1) I couldn’t change Mr. Jerk’s behavior and 2) I didn’t want to have to deal with him anymore, I simply told Mr. Jerk to stop talking to me and that I wanted Brandon to talk to me, instead.

Obviously, Mr. Jerk didn’t understand the seriousness of my request.  He just stood there and continued to be himself… a jerk.

I repeated my request — in the middle of a lobby and in front of his manager, Brandon.

Mr. Jerk turned to Brandon and repeated my request to him, adding that “She doesn’t like me!”

I did not contradict that statement.  I did not backtrack or try to soften the impact of those words.  I just let that statement continue to float out there… until Brandon took Mr. Jerk’s place at the register.

Brandon explained my car's issues, and we agreed to just concentrate on the “safety issues” and not on any of the other stuff on the list.  He let me use my own method of payment without giving me any hassles about it.  Unfortunately, he told me I’ll be waiting for another couple of hours; but that was OK, since I was being treated with respect.

As I went back to my seat, I noticed that Brandon tried to give Mr. Jerk some etiquette lessons, so that the customers that came after me would be treated better.

What was even better was that during the remaining 3½ hours, Mr. Jerk changed his tone and behavior.  He showed more respect to the other women who were waiting for their cars. 

Yeah, I know he’s probably calling me all sorts of names under his breath, but — at least outwardly — he was treating his customers with more respect than before.

And yes, showing respect and honor is important… even in a car repair shop.

.

Out of the Mouths of Children

That's when we all need the 

hugs and kisses the most.

.

Responsiveness in Healthy Relationships

Katherine came across this video that shows the role of responsiveness in healthily relationships. While this footage is of a mother and her baby, it's relevant to all relationships.  

Basically, the video reminds us, that no matter how old we are, we become hurt when those closest to us are non-responsive to our attempts in engaging them in a relationship.

What I find interesting is how quickly the baby responds back after being ignored by the mother.  There's no "holding a grudge" or "getting even" for the hurt inflicted.  The baby's just happy to have her mom interacting with her again.   

I think this is something we can learn from babies. 

Check out the link:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=apzXGEbZht0&feature=player_embedded

 

 

The Lady in Red

Something very interesting played out at work this week.

I was walking into the kitchen and noticed a co-worker wearing a bright red blouse, black pants, and red shoes.

I commented on her outfit, “I like your red top and shoes. This must be “red” week or something. I noticed that Julie came all in red on Monday, and then she wore red pants the next day. And today, you’re wearing a red top with red shoes.” 

 Alice smiled and shrugged.  “Well, I guess it’s just a power day.”

I said, “Well, I think because red is such a powerful color, that subconsciously you were predisposed to red, because Julie came in on Monday — as the Lady in Red — and then, she came in the next day with red pants.  That red color stuck with you, and today, while looking in your closet, you subconsciously gravitated toward the red.”

Alice politely shrugged me off and went on her way.

I knew she didn’t believe me.  I knew she thought I was a little nuts with such a theory, so I followed her into the opened area of the Word Processing room.  I waited for her to sit down at her desk, before I approached her. 

I didn’t say a word.  I just walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.  Then I pointed to all the people, in that immediate area, who were wearing some shade of red.

All these people happen to be sitting in the same area as Julie, who was our Lady in Red on Monday.  Julie, of course, had not a stitch of red on her today.

Alice’s eyes registered recognition of what she was seeing.  She started to laugh out loud.

She exclaimed, “Oh my goodness!  I never even noticed!  Look at that!” 

As she explained what was going on to the rest of the group, I walked out, silently.

***

It’s very interesting to me that people have a hard time believing that their actions affect others. 

Everything on this planet is connected in some way.  Every action — every “thing” — has significance to someone—whether we “see” it or not… whether we acknowledge it or not.  Even if we don’t see the connection or significance, it doesn’t mean that the connection doesn't exit. 

I wish more people saw this power within themselves.  I wish more people would recognize how the power of their presence affects others — either in a positive or negative way. 

Since we have the power within us to choose whether to affect others in a positive or negative way, why not make a conscious effort to affect others in a positive way? 

By choosing a positive course of action, we can dispel the darkness in others, while recharging ourselves in the process.

If we truly understood this power within us, we would use it more.  We would take the time to develop it.  We would give it the attention it needs to affect, effect, and infuse others. 

If we only knew the power held in the gifts of focused attention and positive connections, we could use that power to abolish a host of negative and draining emotions and insecurities that live within ourselves and others. 

Even if this is just one of my crazy theories, it’s one worth trying out…

Don’t you think?

.

Primary Relationships

In my last post, I mentioned the term “primary relationship” and I’m afraid that I might have confused some people with that term.

All of us juggle a number of relationships in our daily lives:  family, friends, intimate partners, business partners, associates, casual acquaintances, etc.   Each relationship takes our time, energy, and attention.

Although there isn’t a single universally accepted definition, the term “primary relationship” denotes a high level of involvement you have with another.  Simply put:  Where your attention is, your heart will also be.

This high level of involvement could be an intense, emotional attachment and connection to another person… or it could be formed by financial and living arrangements… or it can be sustained by the sharing of child-rearing responsibilities.

This “high level of involvement” doesn’t necessarily have to involve other people nor does this “involvement” have to be a healthy one.  Various addictions fall into this category — where the only thing that matters to the person is the next fix.  Narcissistic personalities can have a primary relationship with themselves above all others.  [And to clarify:  These are NOT the types of healthy primary relationships I was referring to in the last post.]

For now, let’s focus on couples in primary relationships… 

This high level of involvement between you and your partner places that partner on “top of your relationship list.”  This primary relationship is the relationship that takes precedence over all others.  When that person needs something, you put everyone else “on hold” and take care of that person’s need. 

Now, this works great if both partners are primary partners for each other.  Each knows that the other will be there for the other… above all others.  Their expectations are met by the other.

The problem comes in when we believe we’re in a primary relationship with another, but that other person doesn’t give us that primary status.  We’re not on the top of the relationship list, but mixed somewhere in the middle or bottom.  Because of this, our expectations are not being met.

Let me give you some examples:

Scene 1:

Two people start to date.  After several months, both pledge their love to the other.  For the woman, she begins to build her expectations for the relationship.  She expects to be placed on the top of his relationship list — above his mother, father, sisters, male friends, sports events, computer games, etc. 

For the man, he sees himself picking up a new and developing relationship that he fits into his already full schedule.  This new relationship is not treated as a primary relationship, but as one of many that he deals with throughout his day. 

As the relationship evolves, the woman presses for more of his attention, and the more she presses the more he pulls away.  Her persistent requests for his time and attention are viewed as nagging, clinging, and needy.  Stress and frustrations develop between the two because expectations aren’t being met. 

Scene 2:

Another man and woman are primary partners for each other.  A newborn enters the picture.  During the baby’s early months/years, the mother’s attention shifts from her partner to their baby.  After taking care of the baby all day and night, the mother has no energy to give to her partner.  Her partner begins to feel unseen and rejected.  His needs are not being met as they once were.

Scene 3:

The husband works long hours, takes calls in the middle of the night, and is off on long business trips.  His primary relationship has shifted to his company and his successful career — and away from his wife.  As for the wife, she still needs to be in a primary relationship… if not with her husband, then with someone else.

The expectations built into a primary relationship play a key role in each of these scenarios.  As each partner fulfills the other’s needs, things run smoothly — but once expectations become unfulfilled, frustration begins to seep into the cracks of the relationship.  If left unattended, other feelings may move in as well… feelings like hurt, blame, anger, rejection, jealousy, distrust, betrayal, etc. 

Anyway…that’s what I meant by primary relationships.  Simply put:  Where your attention is, your heart will also be.

.

I Wish I Took the Risk

I was walking back from the bank to my office.  It was a hot, sunny day; and I was crossing an open field next to a hotel that allowed dog owners to bring their dogs.

While I was crossing the field, I heard a woman’s voice yelling for Bella. 

I turned around and saw a cute little black dog running around — and away from her owner — just happy to be free.  Trailing behind her was her leash along with her tired and irritated owner. 

I stood there, quietly, waiting for the dog to notice me.  I patted my leg for her to come visit me.  She ran as fast as she could, and we greeted each other.  As I petted her, I picked up her leash, untangled her legs from it, and waited for Bella’s owner to retrieve her.

The woman came over slowly — still irritated.  I smiled and handed over the leash.  The woman didn’t return the smile, nor did she get close enough or extend her arm out far enough to grab the leash.

I had to lean up and over Bella to reach the owner's hand, who wasn't helping matter.  I was definitely feeling her need for more space between us.  

At some point, she appeared to have the leash, but just to make sure I asked.

“Are you OK? You have it?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure you’re OK?”

“Yeah.”

And with that, she turned around to take Bella back to the hotel.

There was no “Thank you” or any other niceties from her to allow me into her world. 

I think back to that encounter and wonder... if I had tried harder to break down her barrier, what would I have found there?  I have no idea what her struggles are, but could sharing her frustrations for a moment ease her day?  Would simply knowing that someone noticed — and wanted to help — have made her feel better?

There’s a fine line between reaching out to people and intruding into their private space — and with strangers, you have no idea where that line falls.   Some people are just not comfortable letting others in… let alone, letting strangers in.

I think back and remember how her behavior told me that she wasn’t comfortable with the help I had already given.  Reaching even deeper into her space would have pushed her farther away.

But part of me still wishes that I had taken the risk.  What if I was wrong, and I could have made her feel better — even if for that one moment?

Yeah.  Next time, I'll take the risk.

.