Choosing Again

Clarice

On a Saturday about three years ago, Mason and I spent a lovely day touring Atlanta Botanical Gardens, looking at their newly opened skyline garden. Afterwards, we went to Pike’s Nurseries and from there, to the grocery store to pick up some food for dinner.
Our day together had been calm and relaxed, but when we came home, there was suddenly so much to do that I found myself feeling tense, trying to accomplish a great deal in a compressed amount of time. While I was putting out chairs in the sunroom for a group that was meeting the following day, I saw Mason lying on the bed in his red room, reading a magazine. I felt a surge of anger and wanted to direct that anger, outward, at him. I found myself thinking, “I have to do everything myself.”

When I realized what I was thinking and feeling and where I was headed with it, I stopped it, immediately, recognizing that Mason was meeting a need for ease and rest for himself that I was unwilling to meet for myself. In my refusal to acknowledge my own needs, I was making an enemy out of Mason, telling myself a story that was not true (that I have to do everything myself).

When I connected with that awareness, I felt my anger ease away and decided to ask for the support I needed, asking Mason if he would be willing to help with setting up the chairs. When Mason said yes, I felt relief at his quick support.

It was a celebration, to have been attuned to the anger rising up in me, to be aware that I wanted to lash out at Mason, and to make a different choice—a choice that sidestepped the argument that stood at the threshold of the evening and that enabled us to to share the day’s end in peace and calm instead.

Celebrations: