What do you do when a person walks into the conversation and takes over--not with a beautiful story from their experiences, or with authority on a subject because of who they are, but when they enter the conversation with stories of sexual conquest, or when they snap at others because they differ in opinion?
The best option always is to walk away, find higher ground, seek sanctuary in a different place.
What does a person do when that person is family?
The same exact things.
The walking away, the higher ground, the sanctuary, may not be found in a physical departure, but in the sacred sanctuary of mind and heart. The ugly stories, the negativity, must be treated like bullets, and we must be wearing bullet proof vests.
"This place has bad karma because of___________," says difficult relative.
"This place has great karma. We had it cleansed by a shaman," says person in the bullet proof vest.
''Why did you do this? Why didn't you do that?" complains the difficult relative.
"Did you read the story about Huey the bear?" responds the person wearing the bullet proof vest.
What?
It wouldn't have been as effective if I'd just written, change the subject. There is no clearer message without confrontation, than simply changing the subject, and it may take persistent subject changing to distract unwanted, unmerited questions and accusations.
And finally, the hardest response to toxic people: love them. There is a missing link, a fault line in their geography, a sadness that propels their behavior.
We had one student this year, not a relative, but a young man who almost every school day sabotaged the feeling in our classroom by his complaints and his high grade expectations for just doing the work. I have to give credit to Deb who continually found his soft underbelly amidst his rough bear skin. We stayed consistent, his fellow students were consistent, and the coconut shell began to crack. He started contributing to discussions instead of requiring reminders to put his computer away. He showed vulnerability. Within the cracks, love seeped in. One of my last encounters with him was at a school play where he exuberantly exclaimed how much he loved school. It almost took a whole semester, but we won him over from the dark side. The odds of 20 to 1 were clearly in our favor.
The odds over the family member are significantly less: 6 to 1. But those odds are still six times greater than the weakness of one, and when we factor in love, the odds are a 1000 to 1--at least.
I know which team I'll be betting on.
When you hug the relative good-bye, hug her tight, squeeze an extra second--you will both need it.
The best option always is to walk away, find higher ground, seek sanctuary in a different place.
What does a person do when that person is family?
The same exact things.
The walking away, the higher ground, the sanctuary, may not be found in a physical departure, but in the sacred sanctuary of mind and heart. The ugly stories, the negativity, must be treated like bullets, and we must be wearing bullet proof vests.
"This place has bad karma because of___________," says difficult relative.
"This place has great karma. We had it cleansed by a shaman," says person in the bullet proof vest.
''Why did you do this? Why didn't you do that?" complains the difficult relative.
"Did you read the story about Huey the bear?" responds the person wearing the bullet proof vest.
What?
It wouldn't have been as effective if I'd just written, change the subject. There is no clearer message without confrontation, than simply changing the subject, and it may take persistent subject changing to distract unwanted, unmerited questions and accusations.
And finally, the hardest response to toxic people: love them. There is a missing link, a fault line in their geography, a sadness that propels their behavior.
We had one student this year, not a relative, but a young man who almost every school day sabotaged the feeling in our classroom by his complaints and his high grade expectations for just doing the work. I have to give credit to Deb who continually found his soft underbelly amidst his rough bear skin. We stayed consistent, his fellow students were consistent, and the coconut shell began to crack. He started contributing to discussions instead of requiring reminders to put his computer away. He showed vulnerability. Within the cracks, love seeped in. One of my last encounters with him was at a school play where he exuberantly exclaimed how much he loved school. It almost took a whole semester, but we won him over from the dark side. The odds of 20 to 1 were clearly in our favor.
The odds over the family member are significantly less: 6 to 1. But those odds are still six times greater than the weakness of one, and when we factor in love, the odds are a 1000 to 1--at least.
I know which team I'll be betting on.
When you hug the relative good-bye, hug her tight, squeeze an extra second--you will both need it.
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