What an Honor

Did you grow up in a home with good communication?

Not me...

Later, I found out that as an adult child of an alcoholic; I learned early not to talk, not to trust, not to feel.

Talking. I had no experience disagreeing with another person and being able to talk about it, no experience of afterward still feeling loved. In fact, I used to think that if someone didn’t like my opinion or viewpoint, they must not like me. My reaction was to simply write them off my friends list. Where I grew up, children were to be seen and not heard! In my family the premise was; If you don't talk about it it will go away. In a sort of perverse reality the family would talk to every person available except the person being talked about.

My very first experience of honest conflict resolution was many years ago when I was employed by the church. A parishioner had befriended me until the new pastor arrived, then I felt dropped like a hot potato. In a spiritual counseling session, my broken hot potato self revealed how I was feeling about the situation. My counselor asked, “So, what would happen if you talked directly to Friend about your feelings?” “Oh no," I dismissed, "It’s not that big of deal, I’ll just forget it…I’ll just forget about him!”

Well, I needed to face this. I had the guts to call Friend and invite him to lunch. Friend agreed and after we ordered he asked, “So, what’s up?” My instant standard reply, “Nothing.” ( I have to tell you 'nothing' was my standard broken hot potato self answer. I mean, even when I would go to the doctor and was asked “How are you doing?”and 'Nothing ', seemed suitable!)

“Come on, Patty, you asked me to lunch, so what do you want to talk about?” Wow, what do I want to talk about? This was truly a first for me. “Well,” I began timidly as it was my first attempt at “being real.” “I felt like you and I were friends before and now with the new pastor, I feel like I’m not your friend any more. We used to spend time together and now it seems like you don’t have any time for me.”

Much to my surprise, he calmly answered me. “Wow, if that’s true than you must really feel used.” “Well, yeah, I sort of do.” “Well then, you must really be hurting.” “Well, yeah, I sort of am.” “Well, I’m really sorry!” he added. (Not so broken hot potato says... what?)

Later that day I came home to Friend's email which read, “If you could see my friend Pati Hope thru my eyes, you’d love her as much as I do!” I love you, Love me.

It’s not necessary that we see eye to eye on every issue in life, in fact that's what makes the world interesting and balanced. That day I first talked a problem out loud with another, with someone I felt safe with, was an evolution for me.

A person we count on as a friend does not take it personally, we’re able to say exactly what we feel and know that we will be loved.

A beautiful, sacred, sharing of our soul. What an honor.