Intent...Not Content
I believe I have moved beyond most of the enhanced touchiness that came with my ataxia diagnosis and find that most of my peeps no longer treat me with kid gloves.** However my good girl persona is always battling my bad girl persona. When I think about it, that's lifelong as well. I just have more time these days to dwell on the struggle. When I come out with an unsolicited smartass crack, I instinctively look around for my mother's ghost before remembering that it's just her genetic "gift" haunting me.***
I'm not the only one with communication deficits and hot buttons; we all have them. My internal mantra is "intent...not content". When I start to feel patronized, viewed as incapable, disorganized, or told something I know already (the worst), I try to focus on the genuine meaning behind someone's message, not their delivery. The key word here is try. Somedays, I'm all 'basket and flowers'; somedays, I ride in on a broomstick.
Intellectually, I know no one thinks I'm stupid, demented, or deaf (pick your favorite disability). But I can bite like a junkyard dog at a perceived provocation. To prevent that, I begin my silent chant, "intent...not content". It's a frequent mental exercise and helps calm me while I wait for perspective to return.
Not only am I good at non-verbals, both as the sender and the receiver, but so are others. It's always good to have someone who "speaks" your language. I've always known that just because it isn't said, doesn't mean it isn't communicated. I remember being told "If you can't say something nice..." That from my mother, the queen of snark.
The lesson: Chant "intent...not content" as frequently and quickly as necessary before biting. Better yet, don't bite. It takes a village, it wants to help and deserves a simple, verbal "Thanks".
*Previous post: Speak the Speech
**Previous post: Solitude is not a four letter word
***Previous post: Thanks, Mom
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