Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Don't you know who am I?
Al Pacino has taken up residence in my head. I can't tell you how many times over the last week I've heard a voice inside my head responding to some comment or request with: You mean me? Are you talking to me about that? For real?
In each case, I've been asked to do something mySelf thinks is maybe, possibly beneath me. You want me to cut up vegetables? Don't you know who I am? Those words popped up full-blown in my mind. Then my heart laughed. Yeah, you're the one who cuts up vegetables when that's what needs to be done.
Then there was a request to change some idiosyncratic punctuation. Me? Really? You're asking me? Are you asking other people not to make grammatical mistakes in their headlines? Huh?
But the request is not unreasonable. I understand it. It's just that my affirmation-seeking inner child thinks it's not fair.
The benefit of meditation practice is that I see that it's me taking offense at something not directed at me. And the contortions my mind goes through to make it about me make me laugh. Really. It's another misguided, deluded thought floating through my head. If I'm aware enough to see it, I can watch it float by rather than grabbing it and throwing it at an innocent bystander.
Let this thought float around a bit: When you get defensive at something someone says, who are you defending? And who are you defending against?