I was thinking about how lofty my last post was.  The quote from Ortberg, the hope to act in a way similar to, or, at least, reminiscent of, Jesus, the expectation to treat difficult people as people.  That’s a lot to live up to.

Sometimes I laugh at myself because I’d write that post completely differently today.  I won’t re-do it.  I think what I said stands true.  But a day or two can change your perspective.  And I can help you get the right idea about me because a lot of what I read in that book inspires me to live better.

I started reflecting on how I’ve only become a bit more sophisticated with difficult people.  I used to point out their flaws and keep distance between me and them.  I’m pretty critical still.  Because I think people should generally be nice and patient with others.  People should think before they speak, and when I don’t believe a person has thought before saying something, my face expresses my disgust, while my words come flying to communicate what may be ambiguous by the lines scrunched across my cheeks and brows.  To quote one of my psychology professors, it’s hard to keep your face neutral.

I used to avoid difficult people.  Then it became harder because I got paid to work with and for them.  I value work so rather than skip out on the job, I changed my approach.  I got used to confronting difficult folks.  Now, I’ve swung to the other end of the room.  I like difficult people.  Sure, part of it is found in my own personal difficult-to-be-aroundness.  It’s takes some energy to handle or deal with or relate to me.  Not that I’m impossible.  I am actually nice.  But I’m just nutty enough to empathize with that hard to crack shell at work or school or at the dinner table.  So, I confront them now.  I talk to them now.  I find ways to point out how truly absurd it is to be difficult, how simple one choice to be nicer in the next moment won’t convert your entire life into something unimaginable.  At each time I relate better–or just relate–to a person with a difficult personality, I walk away clearer about what it means to be honest and human at the same time.

Sometimes I forget to care about those hard-headed people.  I forget that they’re usually difficult for a reason.  I forget to remember what I already know about them so that my one conversation doesn’t feel hollow.  I forget something my spiritual director once said about emotions, that they have a narrative behind them, that we should find out the stories attached to our feelings.

Or course, I’m pretty good at remembering these things about me.  I’m exceptional at explaining all the tested reasons for my own special personality, my unique traits.  By the way, that’s what they are when it comes to me, not Michael being difficult, but Michael being unique.  Yes, I could give you that list tomorrow.