Snowed In

We’re snowed in the house today.  Well, not entirely.  One vehicle has front-wheel drive and is an SUV, and another has 4-wheel drive.  The comparatively light snow of KC won’t really dictate that the occupants of the Holmes house stay indoors, but it does mean one son has decided to return to Memphis tomorrow; and my husband’s oil-driling projects, which he usually visits on Sunday, have been temporarily stayed.  So…here we are, in the house, with my husband on day-2 of his weight loss diet worrying about the pump-jacks in Kansas; and my stepson retreating back to bed leaving all of his belongings on the dining room table.

A nice challenge for someone trying to live complaint-free.

The closest I came to a complaint yesterday was a mild rebuke to a companion whose silence seemed petulant.  “I’ll go on home if you would prefer that I not be here,” I offered, hearing an echo of negativity in my own voice.  Then I fell silent, thinking about my vow to live complaintless, and wondering if I shoudn’t try instead to figure out what this person’s silence meant.  Could it be worry?  Could  I have said something that triggered emotional pain?  Merely indigestion, perhaps?  I realized that I had made assumptions.  Perhaps correct, perhaps not.  But assumptions.  I should, instead, have inquired, “Are you feeling angry? Are you feeling sad?  Are you worried?”  It’s a harder but cleaner route.

My self-righteous stance might not have been “complaining”, but neither was it fair.  Ah, yes.

I’m learning!  Happy snow day, everyone!

3 thoughts on “Snowed In

  1. ccorleyjd365 Post author

    And let me add a comment about the word “should”. Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication teaches that there are no “shoulds”. But Dr. Rosenberg also said that eventually, one becomes sufficiently comfortable with NVC that one can use a kind of short-hand. Here, “should” means “a more effective approach might have been”. Make sense?

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  2. Pat R

    They say the test of a true friendship is enjoying the other person’s company without having to say anything. So maybe silence was not a bad thing?

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  3. ccorleyjd365 Post author

    Indeed, Pat. But my silence served also to allow me to contemplate my own emotional response to the situation which triggered my query. And then to reassess my perception. “Silence is golden!”

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