Category Archives: cruel teachers

Bickering, The Twenty-Seventh Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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My son told me last weekend that he hoped he won’t have disagreements in his relationships like I have with my husband when he’s older.  It was interesting to hear, and as far as I understand he believes that with the amount of therapy, mindfulness practice, as well as the fact that I am a psychotherapist, I should be further along in my personal development, especially when it comes to my marriage.  There was a time I would have agreed.  I would have seen my defensiveness when my feelings are hurt, and that my feelings get hurt at all, as a fault in my character.  

I am not proud that I bicker easily, or that I am quick to react, but I am no longer ashamed that both are true.  Like Alex, I imagined that when I was in my sixties I would have life figured out.  I believed I’d be highly advanced in my communications, and I’d be able to easily respond with patience and self-reflection.  The truth is I am still learning.  I have more acceptance of the bickering, appreciating that our marriage has the strength to encompass unpleasant moments.  However, more time is needed to learn to have a sense of humor about myself, to find ease when I want recognition and appreciation, and to accept that my way is not the only way.  

In our twenty-six years of marriage Larry and I have been able to spend less time upset with one another. Repair is quicker and easier.  And we laugh a lot more together.  I am proud of that growth.  We married later in life, but we came together with much to learn about healthy relationships.  And we continue to learn.  Every conflict is a new opportunity.  

I appreciate Alex’s comment because it allows me to see how it looks from his perspective.  I can only imagine the impact our bickering caused him unable to escape it in his earlier years in our compact apartment.  Presently his opinion and my response to conflict allows me to find acceptance with the imperfections of being human.  Being a therapist does not mean I’m immune to familial disagreements.  It means that I am committed to learning and growing one quarrel at a time.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Take the same short walk three different ways.  Walk looking ahead on one walk.  Walk looking up.  And walk looking down.  How different are these walks covering the same ground?  This can be a metaphor for our memories.  Though we may remember the same experience, when we are in a different place in our lives, we might view it in a new way.  
  • When you have a disagreement, rather than seeing what is wrong with the other person, ask yourself what you need to feel at ease.  This way you address a need rather than trying to be right or change someone else. 
  • Take an analog and digital break.  Read a book or magazine, hand write in a paper journal, paint with watercolors, play with a real deck of cards, play a board game, knit, play ball, or find a concrete activity off-screen.    

Compassion vs Disregard, Week Twenty-Seven in the New Abnormal

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Thurgood Marshall said, “The measure of a country’s greatness is its ability to retain compassion in times of crisis.”  Yet what I’ve experienced in the last months and perhaps years is an eroding of compassion and care for others. So many are getting annoyed with others, some acting out in ways that are harsh and harmful.  This preponderance of disregard for other’s human frailties is hurtful to all of us. 

I am not immune to a general sense of annoyance for people that aren’t mindful of others.  After having a negative emotional reaction I spend time and effort to bring caring kindness to myself and work on having compassion for those who bother me the most.  It’s an imperfect process.  Nonetheless I find it helpful.  

The pandemic, plus many social and financial inequities have left us feeling burdened.  And when we look for support, it can be hard to come by since many of us are among others who also feel burdened.  

I don’t know that there is a perfect solution, though I wish there was.  What I do know is that the more vulnerable to others’ ire I feel, the less I have access to inner resources that help me get through tough times. Therefore, having patience with myself, doing my best to be thoughtful to others, and staying connected with and expressing compassion help me get through my days, especially when I encounter insensitivity from others.  

Perhaps this is the time we can move from a disheartening crisis of callousness to bring forth a much-needed time of compassion.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Try the RAIN (Recognize, Acknowledge, Investigate, Non-Identity) mindfulness practice.  You can find it on Tara Brach’s site, or at Mindful.org
  • Practice loving-kindness meditation.  You can find it at SharonSalzberg.com, YouTube or at Mindful.org
  • When you have the thought, “What’s wrong with me?” or What’s wrong with you?”  Rather than answering that question which has negative implications, ask, “What is happening now?”  or, “What am I experiencing?” These questions open up an inquiry, and are gentler when things are difficult.  

A Six-Year Old State of Mind

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When I entered the first grade at Stafford Elementary there were too many students for the two classrooms. I was assigned to an extra class, which was temporarily located in the southeast corner of the all-purpose auditorium, the exact location where they display the book sale in the Spring. The teacher, a mean spirited woman, whose name escapes me, derived her sense of power by placing me in the corner.

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I would laugh uncontrollably with Robin Reed, a beautiful, tall girl with large green eyes. We would just look at each other and start laughing. However, my laugh, for reasons unknown to me would set off the teacher. And, I alone would have to sit in the corner, having been shamed in front of my classmates. I thought this completely unfair. As a six-year-old fairness meant a great deal to me. Why was I sent to the corner, and Robin could stay at her desk learning how Dick and Jane were getting on? My back was to the class so I’d miss the lessons and get behind. One unfairness on top of another. Perhaps it was this experience that wed me to proper rules. This fabricated black & white idealism.

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Today I was in Central Park on a run. I was going the way of traffic, far on my right on the Bridle Path. I like the soft earth under my New Balance even though I always end up with small stones and sand that has to be emptied. It was late morning, and with the heat there weren’t many runners out. And, yet, from time to time a runner would come at me on my lone path, on their wrong side of the path. I get mad at them. I hold my ground running along, certain of my right to be where I am. But I am filled with righteousness, and a touch of malice.

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Since I run because it gives me pleasure, my holier-than-thou attitude does not lend itself to enjoyment. In fact, I allow those unwitting runners to get in the way of my satisfaction. So, I started to ask myself where these thoughts may have originated. And first grade came to mind. My idea of what’s correct and fair was compromised. I held onto my notion of right and wrong as a defense. It’s time to let it go. I needn’t think mean thoughts for runners who are going where they want to go. There is room enough for all of us. Well, I’m not quite there yet. But I’ll work on it with each subsequent run.

Addendum:

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After a month of torture from that First grade teacher, the class got moved to the old art room, and Mrs. Schlosberg became our teacher for the rest of the school year. She was kind, and thoroughly supportive. I even won a poster of Cambell’s Soup as an outstanding student award. It was a great redemptive prize. I will always be grateful to her. And in the end, first grade worked out. I made it to second, and so on.