Part 2; April 2, 2012
Previously on wordjunkies: Annie Maier was distressed at having been dissed. Enraged, she paused… Thought about her reaction (gone and done, no time to change. Desire? Not really.) Wondered if she had perhaps erred in her previous assumption that one would, if done with another, speak up. Such thinking had, after all, led her “straight toward expectation and into the arms of…”
- the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations.
- a person, event, or thing that causes such a feeling.
- a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility
A very strong feeling. Upon learning of this deception (noun; the act of deceiving), I freaked out. Hearing my screech and observing the force with which I hit “respond,” my husband very gently placed a hand upon quaking shoulder and suggested I hold off till morning when I might better be able to “control” my emotion. But at that moment, I had little interest in control. I wanted to stand on the roof and shout this person’s name for all to hear. I wanted to whip out my credit card and order a two-page ad in the Charlotte Observer. I wanted to D E L E T E D I wanted to… cry.
Ever since taking “Mind Moving” with Erik Anderson, possibilities for using writing not only as an access into our own inner workings but as a method of contemplation and release have been swirling in my brain. When the opportunity to make this dream a reality arouse, I leapt at the chance. I plotted, wrote, and marketed the class. My cohort was not idle in this time. S/he worked as well. Not as hard, not as passionately, but still.
The day came. I sweated and worried: Was the idea as good as I thought it was? Would people be inspired? Had I chosen the right examples, written the best exercises. left enough time for all I wanted to accomplish? Would everyone show up? Would they be glad they had? Would I?
The time came. Everyone filtered in. With the exception of one slight glitch, D E L E T ED – – D E L E T E D – – D E L E T E D The day was a success. We planned another workshop, six weeks out.
So what went wrong? And more importantly, did I have the right to become so angry? To feel betrayed? If it was simply a matter of I’m sorry, I don’t want to work with you, well, fine. But say so. If it was something more, okay, still fine. But say so. In the ensuing silence, I assumed all was well. Assumed six weeks meant six weeks. I waited.
Now, that may have been a mistake. Should I have initiated the conversation sooner? Maybe. Would that have changed the outcome? I think not.
Anyway, Saturday night. I pounded out a response. Expressed my dismay. Told the person I was horrified. Hurt. Said his/her behavior was reprehensible, unkind and presumptive (that felt good!). Said I wasn’t surprised, as I’ve witnessed such behavior in the past—that felt even better.
Maybe that was a mistake. Not the saying so, but the witnessing. The expecting I wouldn’t be treated that same way. I ended the email with the assertion that I would not be returning to his/her studio for any reason. That felt best of all! Because I’ve been supporting this person’s business for FIVE years. Not only by attending his/her classes but by referring potential clients. We’ve made drums together, chanted beneath the moon together, shared wine. In the past year, D E L E T E D. The D E L E T E D. D E L E T E D. D E L E T E D continued to go out of respect for the person and our history. D E L E T E D. But no. Fed up, I burned that bridge straight to the ground and left it smoldering.
Which leads me to…
(to be continued)