Transparent Tuesdays

Issue 57

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.

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Essay of the Week

This week’s essay was inspired by a tweet:

Stew Fortier @stewfortier

There is no correlation between how elaborate somebody’s note-taking system is and how interesting their writing is.

It made me laugh. I agreed with Stew. But I disagreed with this response:

Michaela Mendes @mmendeswrites

@stewfortier 💯 I’ve always wondered why I’m bothered by note-taking and reading always going hand in hand. I think you hit on it perfectly here. A heightened focus on systemization takes the magic out of why anyone would write/create in the first place.

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.

[Read the post here.]

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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