Want to Kill Something
I just wrote the best blog I have ever written.
I went to save it and when I moved my mouse, it did something funky and the entire post went away. I was just trying to scroll down to reach the "save" key.
I have this awful feeling like I want to cry, or push this dumb computer onto the floor. This computer is becoming slow and unresponsive when I first turn it on. It's as if the machine needs a cup of coffee and to hack up smoker's phlegm to get it into gear in the morning.
I'll have to try the story later when I am not inclined to bash the monitor in the face.
You know, I often hear from clients and colleagues that they're surprised I'm "edgy" in person. I'm known for being holistic and, I guess, they assume I flow through a room giving off the scent of lavender.
I might strive for that, but when you work at the cusp of human conflict you need a thick layer of something. My work takes me into sordid family secrets and strong client emotions. I'd like everyone to wave sage and sing Kumbayah after a settlement session, but mostly I settle for slow progress on the inroad to peace: a concession here, an acknowledgment there, a surprise misunderstanding corrected.
The road to peace is about shifting perspective as you begin to see things from another side. Since no one cares to consider the other person's point of view, the process can feel a bit... tender. The peace process is counter intuitive. They client thinks: "I want out. Now." Or: "That woman wants to fleece me. I've got to protect myself." The mediators says: "Slow down. Breathe. Put yourself in her shoes."
If you don't head into the heart of the conflict and tenderly explore for its edges and safe spots, you risk stirring the fire of conflict into something much bigger, like the man who murdered his ex-wife in Seattle this week over what he believed were some poor court decisions concerning his children in his divorce. This takes me to start of the blog. I wanted to discuss divorce and the urge to kill. I wanted to say how I can sympathize at least 3% with this murderer. I was involved in an awful case recently with court orders that could make a lavendar- scented lady think about bodily injury.
But it's getting late, and I've got to get busy making amends with my mouse. What do you think it was feeling when it deleted my best blog ever? Remorse? Self-loathing for its failure? Or was it just general stupidity that made the mouse do that?
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