Sometimes people write me about other people.
I tell them that the
interactions I have with someone are mine. That their interactions are theirs,
not mine.
If it’s a good friend, we talk and
it's all about your or my experience, not the other person.
What you speak of is not mine to share. It's just not mine.
And I value people who honor that
with me.
It's good for us
to slowly learn what is ours.
To share, to talk about, to fret about.
And what is not ours at all, so we
gently teach ourselves to stop mulling over or wringing our hands about stuff
that isn't ours.
Because fiddling around
feeling unhappy about stuff that isn't ours destabilizes us .
There isn't much in our culture anymore that clarifies
this for us,
save the deep murmur of internal distress and anxiety, that
signals how we have pushed beyond wise boundaries,
and the stuff we are messing
with is creating a warning message of discomfort.
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