Sometimes bad can foster good. As I reflect in incredulous gratitude on a big change in me over the last two months, I find myself pleased that some good came of being the way I was before.
The lack of confidence and assurance that's been a fundamental part of who I am for most of my life has very little in the way of an "upside." It's kept me isolated, earned me a reputation among some as aloof or arrogant, kept me from asserting myself in any number of circumstances—generally, it's been a millstone or albatross around my neck. And yet…
And yet it has helped shape me as a gentle man. It has helped me accept even painful decisions by others without animosity or recrimination. It has made me one who tries to see the other side, even if the "other side" causes me pain. It has made me a man to whom every relationship is precious, and it has made me a man who (for the most part) refuses to blame others just for having the gall to disagree with me.
I believe that good persons of conscience can and do disagree with one another. I believe that good persons of conscience sometimes even dislike one another. I don't, however, feel any compulsion to demonize those who disagree with me; to vilify them or cast aspersions on their intelligence, character, or morals. I don't have to be right, and even if I am right, I don't have to rub anyone's nose in it. If they are not deceptive or malicious, I can respect the dignity and humanity of even those with whom I strongly disagree.
Yet this belief, which I now hold strongly, started as a belief that if something went wrong, it was my fault; if I disagreed with someone, I was in the wrong. If, in the course of a friendship or relationship, I got hurt by another's choices, I always believed it was my fault—that I had myself to blame. And if I was the awful person who caused all this mess, I didn't want my awfulness to cause the other person to suffer guilt over it, so I made excuses for them.
Pretty neurotic, huh? Only in order to make excuses for them, I had to understand why they did what they did, and I learned something—once I did understand, I couldn't imagine blaming them for what they did.
Their reasons weren't always great reasons by my lights, but they were always understandable reasons. And if I could understand their reasons, even if I didn't agree, I couldn't get angry about it.
Even though I no longer blame myself, I don't automatically blame others, when they say or do things that bother or hurt me. Although I suddenly and surprisingly find myself self-confident and assured, I still have the habit (and I think it's a good one) of understanding, or trying to understand, why others make the choices they do. I still have the habit of… empathy.
It would be emotionally satisfying, when someone made a decision that hurt, to decide that he or she was an idiot, a demon, a monster, a you-name-it… but it wouldn't be true. And if it isn't true, is it something I want to buy into?
No, I don't think I do.
And that, Wayne , is why I'm Switzerland
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