This morning, on one of the
writers’ listservs I follow, a writer with recent stunning successes, was sort of philosophically complaining about
a man in her critique group who said really ugly things to her at the end of
the meeting, like ‘That was the worst thing you’ve ever read. I’m never coming
back, going to find a critique group with good writers.” It doesn’t take a
genius to figure out that the problem is with the man and not with what my
friend had written. All of us on the list rushed to extend sympathy, advice,
and all that. I said she was wise to take the high road and walk away without
retorting, but I was surprised at the vitriol of some of the posts, calling him
a jerk, a scumbag, suggesting she kill him off in her next mystery (a standard
joke among mystery writers). All sorts of anger boiled over. In truth, the
woman who wrote originally finally added that her critic was seventy and
perhaps on medications that altered his personality; others suggested the
personality changes some experience with early Alzheimers. But I am for
forgiveness, understanding, and looking the other way.
A close friend of mine had an
unpleasant encounter with a woman she of necessity sees often. She did not
respond, though she was boiling with anger and wanted to say, “Don’t ever talk
to me that way again.” Once more, I was proud of someone for taking the high
road. But it’s sure a rocky one. I suggested she should have said, “I’m sorry
something has made you so miserable and unhappy but I will hold you in my
thoughts and hope you find peace and happiness.” Truth is, I stole that line from this
morning’s exchange, but it seems just right to me. My friend laughed and said
she thinks she would have been slapped if she said that.
For some reason all this
reminds me of my good friend who told me once when one of her five grown
children comes to her with a problem, she says, “Gosh, I’m so sorry that’s
happened. I hope it works out for you,” and then zips her lips. And when one
comes with good news, she shares their joy, says, “I am so happy for you,” and
zips her lips. Oh, to have her wisdom!
All this has gotten me
thinking that we so often respond in anger and look for revenge, when maybe we
should respond to ugliness with compassion and look for its cause, reach out to
the difficult person. Or maybe we should just learn to zip our lips.
