It was the morning session of a weekend developmental workshop a friend of mine was facilitating, and she'd asked me to sit-in. So on a Saturday morning when I'd normally be sleeping, I was instead listening to Chad's rant about his lack of success, his inflexible boss, and his ill-intentioned coworkers.
What sounded like the normal frustrations many of us experience from time to time changed abruptly when my friend asked Chad if it had always been like this at work. "No," he said, "I used to like my job until Mark came." Mark was now Chad's boss and had gotten the job Chad thought he should have. "I guess I never learned to kiss-up enough," he said.
Over the weekend, Chad's harbored anger erupted. It wasn't just at work where people were "out to get him." Similar occurrences overflowed his personal life. His neighbors didn't like him, his children never visited, and his wife moved out. As he told bits and pieces of his story, his word-venom poured like emotional toxins onto the group.
As Chad's story unfolded, I found myself more irritated than sympathetic; more judgmental than responsive. Listening to his disappointments, angry emotions, and lingering grudges, it was easy to diagnose his self-sabotaging behaviors and victim-thinking; even easier to conclude that it was his poisoned view of the world that had boomeranged into these less than positive relationships.
Mentally setting myself apart from Chad and other attendees who came to address their resentment and anger, I was reminded of the words of Siddhartha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism: "The grudge you hold on to is like a hot coal that you intend to throw at someone, but you're the one who gets burned." These people were definitely getting burned by their coals.
When I left that day, I felt smugly superior - or at least more developmentally evolved. I'd worked through my own resentments, disappointments, and hurt. I'd moved on, putting out my own smoldering coals. Or, so I thought.
Like the morning sun illuminating the earth, Chad's words lingered. I did have unresolved coals with smoke seeping into my soul, too. And while I might not spew my venomous anger in public, there are ways it shows up: extra pounds, accumulated stuff, teeth grinding.
In the scheme of things, sometimes the Chads are right. There was an injustice, significant wrong doing, or justifiable outrage. None of us get that fairy tale life or escape without bumps, bruises, hurts, and heartaches. But the damage evolves into canyon-like erosions if we allow our smoldering coals to blind us from life's joys, to embitter our spirits, and disconnect our hearts. We hurt ourselves more and longer if we give those coals the power over our happiness.
Chad gave me something powerful that day. Sometimes I am too quick to draw conclusions, judge another, or notice shortcomings. Sometimes, I need more pause, more self-reflection, and more of the wisdom found in the words of author Marion Bradley: "Speak not against anyone whose burden you have not weighed yourself." I am grateful for Chad's reminder.
(c) 2010 Nan S. Russell. All Rights Reserved.
Nan S. Russell is the award-winning author of "Hitting Your Stride: Your Work, Your Way." More about Nan and her work can be found at www.nanrussell.com. Author of "Hitting Your Stride: Your Work, Your Way" (Capital Books; January 2008) Sign up to receive Nan's free monthly eColumn at: www.intheschemeofthings.com.
