I don’t often forget this post, but I was so busy with painting, and bingo, and a hot dog supper, I forgot to write my Saturday Gratitude Post.
Of course, I am grateful for all of those activities — I really appreciated yesterday. I feel much more relaxed now, and I got this way by not sitting around the apartment. Somewhat counter-intuitive, that seems, but I listen now to my family, my friends, and my psychologist, instead of depending solely on my intuition. I don’t know if I will ever get over my sheer laziness, but I am doing better than I have in the past, and I am certainly grateful for that!
Painting class was interesting yesterday. Our instructor is a big man with a nasty temper, and though I really like him, I don’t cross him — easier for both of us. One of my classmates invited a man from another building to come to class, and this fellow turns out to be a non-stop talker as well as a reasonably good painter. The woman who invited him didn’t introduce him to B., the teacher; they simply sat down and started talking and painting. Suddenly, B. took his painting off the easel and walked out — without a word.
I waited for ten minutes, and then I excused myself and headed upstairs to see what was wrong. As I suspected, B. was stomping mad, both that his student hadn’t even introduced her friend, and because the other fellow talked so loudly for so long about his method of painting that B. felt he couldn’t get in a single word. He said he was going to stop the class, that he intended it for in-house residents only, and that he felt like going back downstairs and punching someone.
I knew better than to reason with him. This was his thing, and if he couldn’t calmly ask for quiet, I wasn’t about to do it for him. I headed back downstairs and went back to work on my figs.
I share this incident because, when I stopped to think a minute, I remembered that same behavior as my modus operandi for most of my life. I still catch myself reacting that way, but now I recognize the warning signs, and usually stop myself long before I put my foot through a door, like I did when I was in seventh grade. (I know I’ve written about this, but I can’t find the post. Must have been a chapter in my autobiography. I’ll try to track it down.) However, I am far from being free from my old passive-aggressive self, and I realized how ugly and immature I’d always been with those reactions. This reinforced my plan to avoid that tactic, and to face my life straight on, without dodging, triangulating, and dragging others into my drama.
For that reminder, and that renewed resolve, I am monumentally thankful.
All else is well — Mom’s hand surgery was a success, and we had a lovely dinner the night before with my sister M. And my nephew N., who turns 15 this week. The rest of my family is doing well, and once again, I can see that I am a very lucky woman. For that, and for all the blessings in my life, I am grateful, and offer up my thanks to the universe.