Transparent Tuesdays
You guys,
My Dad is a slob. He can’t eat anything without dropping crumbs in his entire radius. It’s a wonder any food makes it into his mouth.
So furniture - like our brand new couch - doesn’t stand a chance.
Before my parents’ arrival this week, Sam and I discussed it. It was my responsibility to tell both my parents - no eating in the living room.
Instead of bringing it up as a house rule from the beginning, I waited until I saw my Dad migrate to the kitchen and grab a handful of barbecue chips so big there was zero chance of him not dropping some on the floor. He meandered over to the living room, getting closer to the couch.
I pointed at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
He laughed. I said, “I’m not kidding.” So he stopped in his tracks and ate the chips in the kitchen.
The next morning Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch. Mom had a paper towel with a bagel and cream cheese on it. I felt myself getting angry. But instead of asking her to go in the kitchen, I said, “Don’t get any bagel on that couch!”
She said she wouldn’t. I continued past the couch and noticed Dad also with a bagel in his hand. Now I was pissed. “Dad! Don’t you dare get bagel on that couch.”
He laughed.
I said, “I’m serious! I’d prefer you guys not eat on the couch at all.” And then I stormed into the bedroom.
This is where I stewed and fumed and decided my parents were disrespectful and rude.
But then I checked in with myself. What was I so mad about?
I realized I was more angry with myself than with them. I didn’t make it crystal clear that no food should be eaten in the living room. I wasn’t explicit about the house rule. And then I yelled at them.
I felt the familiar dread when I don’t want to have a hard conversation. But because I wrote about hard conversations last week, I had the awareness to recognize the dread and immediately wanted to have the conversation as soon as possible.
I walked back into the living room and sat down in a chair opposite them.
“I’m sorry I got so mad about the food on the couch.”
They said it was okay. I went on. “I thought I made it clear but maybe you thought I was joking. And I know that’s what you're used to doing at home, but it is a rule for us here. We only eat food in the kitchen.”
They both smiled and were pleasant and said okay.
And while it was a little uncomfortable for me to address something head on, and while I had a little anxiety as I sat down across from them, I felt relieved more than anything else when I finished.
It was a small thing. But when small things aren’t addressed they can fester and turn into big things.
I’m getting better at these hard conversations.
Essay of the Week
This week’s essay was inspired by a tweet:
It made me laugh. I agreed with Stew. But I disagreed with this response:
Note-taking and reading DO go in hand in hand. Maybe there’s too much of a heightened focus on systemization, but systemization doesn’t take the magic out of creating. Systemization is what makes creating magical.
So Zen
I started meditating again last week after a very long hiatus.
After four days Sam told me I need to keep meditating. Apparently I was very patient with him when he was freaking out about something.
I didn’t even notice. That’s the thing about meditating. Sometimes you don’t notice the changes. But other people do.
I’m still not sure if it was the meditating or if I was just in a good mood, but I’ll keep meditating.
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Until next week,
Charlie