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Stop It!When I’m right, I usually know it. And as far as IT was concerned, I knew I was right. Not only that, but well-meaning friends kept saying, “You should never put up with IT!” I knew that. Hmm. Just what was I supposed to do? I had nagged, argued, cajoled, and begged my husband and IT didn’t change. IT was still with us after 10 years. What next, an ultimatum? “You stop doing IT or I’m outa here.” IT wasn’t big enough to lose all the great things about our marriage. On a scale of 1 to 10 in importance in the world, IT was a 2. IT really wasn’t worth the effort. So, why was IT dominating my thoughts? I did try a zillion ways to understand why IT was in our lives. After cognitive therapy, regression, transgression, and repression processes, I understood IT. So what? IT was still there. I knew my part of IT and I knew his part of IT. IT was taking over my life, his life, and our life. The constant litany lived in my head, rent free. “Look, he’s doing IT again!” “That’s the third time this week.” “Didn’t he say he’d stop?” “Ha, he’s a failure. He just can’t get it.” My complaints were far more destructive than IT was. How did this brilliant, kind man become a failure? I was belittling him because of It. He must have felt that he’d never measure up. He kept slipping back into IT and I was right there pointing my proverbial finger at him, being right. Of course he should stop. Common sense said I was right. Even he said I was right. Stopping IT seemed to be out of his control. One day I decided to stop complaining about It. One day I just stopped. I breathed deeply, bit my tongue, counted to 10, and stopped. Every day for a month I stopped. I was conscious of stopping. The silence was blessed. I relaxed and let the burden of being right wash off my shoulders and drip onto the floor. Wow! What a relief. Instead of getting all uptight with righteous indignation, I began to fill myself with good heartedness. I loved this man and I was trampling that love with my mean-spirited, prove-he’s-wrong attitude. One day, I noticed that I had not only willfully stopped, I had let go. I didn’t have to think about stopping, the voice in my head was silent. I was free to explore other things, something far more important than being right. I was being loving. (C) Jacqueline Hale, 2002
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