A friend recommended that a friend of his meet with me. We did so and hit it off. I then recommended an old friend of mine to my new friend. New friend was inappropriate with old friend and I BLEW MY STACK.
I called my original friend to see if I could figure out how to deal with our mutual (my new) friend. I was raging, furious, a fierce Mama bear in all aspects. Very tough. DO NOT MESS WITH ME, DEAR ONE, when I am in that mode. It doesn’t bode well for anyone who crosses my path.
Fortunately, my original friend was delighted at my ferocity, the clarity of my emotion and my brutal honesty in owning my own reaction. He, bless him, helped me to get clear that my reaction was actually an over-reaction, connected to childhood events around betrayal. I chilled out.
Now I can call the person in question and make clear my feelings about his behavior without separating his head from his body. I plan to give myself Sunday to continue to relax over the issue, make space for myself, and be sure I am completely calm before I call.
All that put me in mind of No Drama Obama, and the silly IV drips of information about his new cabinet picks. It’s taken me many years to figure out that drama belongs on the stage and not necessarily in my life. In fact, I prefer it on the stage and I prefer it out of my life. It is, however, my default position.
The cool thing is that I was able to connect to a friend who totally appreciated my passion and saw it for what it was—my own reaction, and not really connected to the other players at all. That sent me back to No Drama Obama. He could have fussed at the media this week about the so-called leaks, but he just let it go, and kept on purpose.
That’s what I have to do, too. Keep on my purpose, speak my truth in love, and let my yea be yea and my nay be nay, and return, return, return, once, forever and always to peace. Obama is a great example.