314: When you take the turn to the high road

On really special days, you may get a text. That text may be from a number you don't recognize because you lost the number or you deleted it. The text may be laden with the sender's habitual imperative of having the last word. It may be couched in the correct sounding words and phrases of wanting closure, a smiley that has been interspersed because the person may want to convey a false sense of largesse. You wonder which of the six people you cut ties with has shared that message. You wonder if it may be a good idea to ask them to do the courteous thing of returning your books, movies, and that pink shimmering top - to complete the closure they seem to want so earnestly after so many days or months (depending on who they are.) But largely, you struggle with an instant reflex to say something nasty. To call them out on the obvious fakeness you sense when they are wishing you well while also telling you other things that are not so nice (or true). But you don't. I think you don't do that because sometimes people are hypocritical and fake is because they are so earnest. They are trying hard to do the right thing and come across as a correct person. This paradox, you understand, is part of the human experience.

You delete the message. You keep the phone aside. You go back to creating a piece of work. You collaborate. You talk to other people about big ideas. You also, silently, really hope that whatever open wound the other person was carrying for so long - long after you have forgotten - hopefully that wound got the closure it wanted.

It would be nice to get my books, films, and top back. But hey, you pay a price for unknotting a tough knot. And hopefully, you let it go because you feel this is it. And we are done. For good. For ever.

And that's when you look back to 4 years ago when you know that you would have behaved differently. And you know that, for sure, there has been growth.

That, perhaps, is the biggest prize for taking the high road.