I Live Softly

It’s 5:38 in the morning. I came downstairs for some “alone time” but had only a few moments with my thoughts before my husband awoke. He thinks that my time should be reserved for his purposes and, lately, that involves picking at the scabs of our marriage. I think that he feels they’ll heal faster and so he can’t understand my reluctance to join him in this process of discovery. While he has come to know me better over the past few months, he still doesn’t know some very important things about how I live in this world.

I am an introvert. When I experience disharmony in any part of my life, I can’t (or won’t) be a pretender. I need to be alone to gather energy; this is my coping strategy. The more significant the crisis, the faster it drains my energy. It causes behaviour that is easily misinterpreted, but it is my self-protection. It’s how I keep from going mad.

I accept conflict. I prefer peace to conflict, but I accept it as a necessary part of maintaining healthy relationships. I don’t make it a habit to initiate quarrels, but I will if I feel that it will precipitate an ending to what may be a destructive situation. I won’t back down from a fight but I will consider how its outcome will serve in the interests of those involved. I realize that it is sometimes more advantageous to lose a fight than to win one. I also know that some arguments have no winners.

I am indecisive. I am often described as open-minded and non-judgmental. It is my openness that people seek when they need to safely share their feelings, and I have forged deep and lasting relationships as a result. The irony however, is that I believe these traits contribute to my lack of decisiveness. I worry that I may be apathetic; more still, that I may be submissive.

I am thoughtful. What I mean to say, is that I give deep and careful consideration to my decisions. I will not hastily choose to do, or not to do something that I feel may have a significant impact on my life or on the life of another. The difficulty I have with decision-making means that I need much time and much energy to arrive at my answers. I stand by my commitments or “die trying” and I rarely capitulate. I am perseverant.

I keep my promises. I will not make a commitment if I cannot keep it. I choose my words carefully, because I understand that what we say and how we act forms the basis of our credibility and my credibility is, without question, by most valued asset.

I care deeply. I would say that I have many acquaintances, but few relationships. I carefully choose individuals to become a part of my life and, once there, offer them my deepest loyalty.

And finally, I am a perfectionist. It is what I call, my Sisyphean trait. It is an impossible pursuit and one that I have (with much remorse) passed on to my son. A former boss once told me that “perfection is the enemy of the good.” Brain surgeons and nuclear physicists might argue the point, but for most of us, good is good enough. My saving grace, I believe, is that I understand and recognize my perfectionist tendencies. Acknowledging that you have a problem, they say, is the first step towards resolution.

I read this list again and think how silly it may seem. I think,

I am a friendly, compassionate introvert that can argue both sides of a dispute and then poke holes in the resolution.

Truth is I am not here to judge, but to understand. I have learned what is mine to change and what is mine to accept. I see opportunities rather than threats and I see endless possibilities in shades of gray. Most days, it fills me with wonder.

I like to think I live softly in this world.