My family trip this past summer to Disneyland continued the tradition of trips teaching me an important lesson to help me be wiser. This started when I was a youth pastor doing mission trips. For instance, my second trip was to New York City, and on our prayer tour the host told us one of the biggest problems for the city was a housing shortage. In that moment, for whatever reason, my brain went, “Is that really the problem?” Defining the problem is very important because that’s the start of solving it (something we rarely do in fights because we just get hung up on wanting to feel loved, understood, and respected). In this situation, is the problem not enough housing or are there simply too many people? We were told there was a shortage of housing while looking at several high rise condos filled with very tiny apartments being built in order to cram more people inside. (Aside: This was 2008, so when we were told those condos were being built without landlines we were blown away: “But how will you have a phone without a landline?” Very different times.) Even with those giant buildings going up there wasn’t going to be enough housing? At some point there are just too many people. We have max capacities for rooms and buildings, but not for cities. At what point are you a hoarder of people? If there aren’t too many people now, at what point do you reach that? You can definitely have too many cats (unless you’re a crazy cat lady) and other living things like deer. I’m not saying we should start having a hunting season to cull the human herd like we do with certain animals, but when is it simply too much? At one point do you just end up feeling too squeezed in, which causes everyone to be unhappy? Being in New York City I often felt claustrophobic because of how narrow most of the stores or homes were. Maybe I’m spoiled with space being from Canada, but New York City was already designed to cram people in. Regardless, the lesson comes down to a simple point: if we’re defining the problem wrong, it’ll be impossible to find the right solution.
I’m sorry for giving a random lesson that isn’t the main point for today. I sometimes have random memories I like to share. That’s on me… but then it’s on you for reading the full paragraph. See what I did there? I first accepted the blame in order to recognize my part and then I shared the blame with you because you’re not a helpless victim. Ultimately, we want to see that bad moments and conflict are 50% our fault. If I say, “This is all your fault,” I’m claiming that I’m weak and helpless to prevent it from happening in the future. This will leave me feeling vulnerable and anxious because I don’t have any control. The reverse happens if I say, “This is all my fault,” because I’m claiming you’re weak and helpless. And yes, this is connected to the lesson I learned this summer; I’m not still being random.
I’ve been teaching that every conflict is 50% our fault for a number of years now. For instance, if my wife yells/scolds at me for something (it happens), I can defend myself and engage in the conflict thereby making it a fight or I can diffuse it by simply accepting what I’m given and helping her feel understood and cared about. In that case, the situation was just a bad moment. She was upset and by feeling loved, she calmed down and we carry on happy. If I defend myself by yelling back, explaining what I was doing, giving a jab comment, or giving a look of annoyance, I have made it a fight – 50-50. And if you asked us separately who started the fight, “They did.” That’s how it works. We typically want to see ourselves as the more innocent party.
This leads to the lesson I learned on my Disneyland trip… kind of. Something happened at the airport on the return home that later led to a discussion that taught me the lesson. When we arrived at the gate to come home, I loaded all the bags onto a cart. (In LA, the luggage carts are free unlike Toronto; I’m way too cheap to make my life convenient like that.) At some point on the way to the luggage drop off, my wife asked me where her airplane pillow was and I wasn’t sure. When we were back at the hotel, she had asked me to pack a few of the bags because she didn’t think it would all fit. I love a good Tetris challenge. I won that game, but I had no idea where her pillow ended up, so I guess that meant I still lost. I have a garbage memory, especially for things that I don’t need – it wasn’t my pillow. Besides, my priority was to get everything in bags within a certain amount of time. My wife did not see it that way – it was her pillow. Before checking in, I unloaded my Jenga style cart that was five levels tall (and wobbling) in order to check the bottom one after asking her to check the two small bags she had in her hands. I added we could just grab a sweater for her to use if we didn’t find the pillow – an idea she hated. I didn’t find the pillow in the bag I checked, but I found a sweater for her – she was not happy. I think the right word was furious. After checking the one bag in her hand, she then took the kids to the bathroom to empty water bottles. I think that was a way to give herself a time out because we didn’t need to empty them yet. Either that or she was seeing squirrels (i.e. “This is my new priority even though it doesn’t matter.”) Since that’s an ADD thing, it could go either way.
When she was gone, I checked the one bag I told her to look in but didn’t. That was the bag I had kept for things to go on the plane, and low and behold right at the top was… her pillow. I might have a bad memory, but I wasn’t stupid… at least when I packed. When my wife got back from the bathroom I showed her the pillow and her anger lessened. Notice I didn’t say “she was happy”? She wasn’t, but she soon recovered to normal as she became distracted with checking our bags and going to our plane. Her one strength is recovering really fast. We’re opposites; I’m slow to get angry and much slower at returning to normal. Those are the two main options for anger: quick to anger and quick to calm versus slow to anger and slow to calm. If you’re quick to anger and slow to calm, that’s the worst. It’s also bad if the slow to calm down takes more than a few hours. Either the person needs to learn how to process their anger better or that’s a sign that resentment has set in and fueling the fire.
Side Point: My daughter ended up being very grateful I pulled her mom’s sweater out because she was cold on the plane, which is a good reminder that there is good in all situations and that good can come out of all situations (like we looked at last week).
Tip: This situation was a good reminder why I like to travel in groups. If something happens between two people there are options for getting some space. There is also likely someone there who will validate your feelings to help you feel better, which is incredibly helpful for feeling better.
A week after the trip something happened that led to me asking my wife a question: “When something bad happens with other people you’re quick to blame yourself, but when things happen at home with me or the kids do you blame yourself or us?” Without hesitation my wife replied, “I blame you.” It was interesting because there was no guilt or remorse when she said this. It was as if my wife thought this was normal: “Of course I blame you. What a silly question.” I then asked her when bad things happen who does she think I blame. She didn’t know, so I told her: “I blame myself and then I pass half the blame on.” That’s how it’s supposed to work. We start with accepting blame in order to have a sense of control and consider ways to prevent it from happening again. We then share the blame because blame is not one person’s commodity; it’s supposed to be shared.
The fact is, as a therapist, I see this dynamic all the time – the woman wants to make everyone happy, which includes taking the blame with others, but then at home the husband is the main source of the blame. This can be very dangerous, however, because it often leads to the woman carrying resentment toward her husband: “I’m always picking up after him,” “It’s like he’s an extra child,” or “Without me the house would fall apart.” And what happens with the husband? He either defends himself by fighting back or overly explaining about what he does or he simply distances himself. The wife then gets angry that he’s not connecting with her, which adds to her resentment and makes him want to stay even further away. This is the dangerous cycle that is typically behind many women who leave their husbands when the kids are old enough.
My wife and I won’t get to this point because we actively work at preventing the cycle from getting too far, but it’s frustrating and hurtful being the target of someone’s blame. When you feel like everything is your fault, it wears down your soul. This is where developing a thick skin is important and understanding that her blame is a sign that she’s unhealthy and making life harder for herself. Instead of having resentment myself, I need to have compassion for her and find ways to help her correct this behavior. That’s what love does… even though sometimes I definitely don’t choose love.
This week may you consider how you use blame.
Rev. Chad David, ChadDavid.ca, learning to love dumb (like me)
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