
“It was a nightmare,” she said.
My fault for listening in on two people talking about yet another bad customer experience.
“I don’t think I can take it anymore,” I whispered to my partner.1
“Oh my gosh. Let people have their drama. You’re not the drama police,” she reminded me as a partner of 30+ years can.
This is true. I’m not a drama cop. Even funnier, I added to the drama with my own hyperbolic declaration about the nightmare. I could, in fact, take it, did, and likely will again—and again (and again).
A few years ago, someone brought to my attention my overuse of the word ‘hate.’ My first thought was, “It’s not a big deal. It’s just a word.” But, awareness begets awareness and gradually I realized most of what I hated was only something I didn’t care for or enjoy. My use of the word was most often tragic hyperbole that unnecessarily escalated the drama. (Tragic?)
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
I said that to myself out loud recently after making a careless mistake while playing Wordle—a word game. What childhood trauma planted the seed for that self-talk?
So where am I going with this?
I whinge on hyperbole and often spew it myself. And, I believe our collective momentum with hyperbole and drama is feeding the beast. (Is calling it a beast feeding the beast?) But, maybe if more of us (my hypocritical self included) dialed it down a notch a few more times in a hundred and put a gap between what’s said or done and how we respond, we might smooth out a few more edges and enjoy a little more of our day.
Gotta go. I’m starving.
Wishing you distance from people sweating bullets.
Scraps…
“We lose this, we lose Paris. It is apocalyptic.”
I heard those words in April of 2019 and thought, “You won’t and it’s not.”
Notre Dame de Paris (Our Lady of Paris), the medieval Catholic cathedral was on fire. The New York Times closed its The Daily podcast with…
“Thousands of Parisians watched the fire in horror, with one witness telling The Times through tears, quote, “We lose this, we lose Paris. It is apocalyptic.” That’s it for The Daily.”
I understand that for some, this structure carries deep meaning and the fire was upsetting. But Paris is Paris—wonderful on its own. No one lost their life and the world was able to continue it’s march into a pandemic the following year.
But I get it. Drama sells.
And this from a friend after we discussed some of the thoughts above…
A poem (a cinquain):
Never, Always, Starving
Behold— hateful
hyperbole
of the everyday
baby insurrections
that eat attention
She’s a professor, poet, and editor.
And in the states…
We’re a little more subdued. Trespassing here might get you no more than a little shock in the hand.
Oh, and…
Always and never rarely are.
I mentioned this in a previous stack. Wife, spouse, and husband sound Old Testament to me now. Partner feels a little hip and unromantic (and hip feels old) but I like the reminder that a relationship is a partnership. It seems more helpful to the attempt at a better us.
Sam, I appreciate many of your self-reflections over the years. You hit a resonant chord more times than not. One of my favorites remain the ego cleanse. An excellent way to shift the focus back to what is important. Now if I could grow to need the practice fewer than 10 times a day (my own hyperbole) I would feel like I'm making more progress. Keep it up!
Quote from one of myCovey studies:
Between stimulus and response, there is a space and in that space, we have the power to choose a response. In those choices lie our future happiness.
Great stuff but takes a very disciplined person. I struggle with it.