This week I had one of the experience with a friend or possibly soon to be ex friend where suddenly something happens or their behavior reveals something that makes you think they’re really a grenade factory when you thought they were a cotton candy distributor. It calls into question my own judgments of character and see where I screwed up or more politely stated in therapeutic terms, gently probing the self to integrate new awarenesses on the path to joy. This person wrote me an email in a strangely nonchalant tone accusing me of not supporting her passions over the several years we were friends and then made claims of issues that I had that  were highly and bizarrely inaccurate.  Since it was written so formally even though the words were dying to feel, I wasn’t angry or emoting about it;  I get emotional when I run out of toilet paper; this should have sent me to the gym for three weeks straight.  I took time, talked it out with another friend and then wrote her back explaining myself;  but I’m disturbed and think I will ignore this relationship for the foreseeable future as someone who could make statements about me that are as accurate as saying ‘Lee, you fear getting eaten by naked zebras on major holidays’ which I have overcome, I imagine this person does not know me very well or is looking at me through a lens made of poppyseeds and plastic roses.  These types of encounters leave doubt viruses in me that sometimes take months to eradicate;  that’s when I think the demons drive us hardest of all and do what angels won’t; pull out the faulty magnets. I don;t believe what she said but I do admit that I have been uncomfortable with some small aspect of our relationship.  I just like to be honest about what’s mine, what’s theirs, and what’s utter nonsense versus what truths need to be hosed off and put back on the mantle.

This has happened a few times to me over the years, sudden ‘Right turn, Clyde’ moments where people get really upset with me out of the blue when we just finished meditating or buying bubble bath or something innocuous. I start thinking of motives; people are subconscious magnets; When motives are attached to a string that when pulled comes from the heart, that’s where blood spills or changes from A to O in a swift turn of the sword;that’s where games and strategies are born, are manufactured and distributed as habits in what I call the boundaries of deep need in the shores of Love and hate.


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