We And The World - Can (and Should) Conflict Be Avoided?

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Video: Fighting Fair: How Do You Resolve Conflict? 2023, February
We And The World - Can (and Should) Conflict Be Avoided?
We And The World - Can (and Should) Conflict Be Avoided?
Anonim

Kenya Wagner - about how to treat people in order to get sick less often, be less nervous and not waste time.

As a child, all the names I associated with some color. Dasha, for example, was a green name, like a bunch of parsley, Katya - red, like a Kremlin star, Ani seemed to me yellow (or rather, golden), and Ira - pink, just like Barbie. Gali, Galochka and Galina were brown. Colors of chocolate, poodle and meat gravy. There was something warlike and gloomy about them, big and viscous.

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But one day I met Gala who tore all my templates. She scattered them with colorful confetti, blew them in the wind with faded candy wrappers. Gala was bigger and richer than any paint. She was a rainbow, a Picasso palette, color craziness, a bold exclamation mark. Although at first it seemed to me that she did not know how to look through the thickness, just a blot, by someone coarse and shapeless, hastily cobbled together by a creator from the remains of dough.

Gala did not know how to maneuver. She, like a tank, crushed everything living, disagreeing and uncontrollable, everything that had the audacity to argue and sway in her presence. She entered the room at the pace of a commander, noisily slammed into a chair, laid her chest on the table as a gift, and began to solo. This stormy and merciless, like puberty, the stream turned me at the speed of a washing machine. A typewriter that is jammed, and it, like crazy, twists and turns your junk, turning rags into rags. It was impossible to interrupt Gala, all the more so, while she herself interrupted rudely, without the slightest inner hesitation, led by her invincible, bestial I. She was not interested in performing with the orchestra. Only solo, only hardcore. After Gala's benefit performances, I breathed through the window.

Acquaintances who once happened to be visiting me with her, at subsequent invitations, were cautiously interested in "Will there be a Gala?" There was doubt in their eyes.

Some time after we met, we found ourselves on a joint trip. I took this accident (without saying a word in the same hotel) as a hole in my karma. Instead of the long-awaited week of inner silence - jump into the whirlpool, swimming in a shark den. The thought of joint breakfasts shook me. I pictured Gala spitting crumbs in the midst of a monologue, and my stomach sucked. Leave? Haha. Gala was not one of those who understood (and accepted) the designation of boundaries. Gala demolished borders, as befits a tank.

On my first vacation morning, like a hotel cat, with a croissant in my teeth, I stealthily minced from the cafe. During the day she huddled at the farthest point of the beach. In the evening I ran away to the city. But the next day, ashamed of her cowardice, she crawled to breakfast. Ultimately, you need to strengthen your immunity to life. Let Gala be my vaccination against stubbornness and rudeness.

When I entered, she was already sitting at a table with five men. But something in her appearance was unusual. Rather, everything - pallor, stoop, drooping corners of the mouth. Gala was sluggish, like a stale tomato. It turned out she was at the hotel for work. She arrived with a temperature of 39. Now it's better, 38.3, going to a meeting with the foreign authorities to defend the project. It's not the first time with her. With a high fever, she entered college, got married, moved from apartment to apartment and flew across the ocean for an internship. No, for an internship - with a broken leg. In plaster.

There was also a "funny" case when a car died in a remote village and it was walking 20 kilometers in the rain. I’m wet to my panties, you’ll laugh. Okay, so far, the project is calling, but it's okay.

That morning I saw Gala in more detail, as if in 3D. I suddenly thought that if we were together in a difficult situation, she would not have died out, did not choke on a tear and did not remain silent with a hermitic air, like some ladies I know. Through her harshness and tactlessness, lack of upbringing and powerful self-conceit, a solid core of life appeared. A sturdy trunk that oozed a healing elixir, a mixture of courage, strength and endurance. An elixir so much needed by romantics like me, anxious dolls whose hearts beat too fast.

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Subsequently, it turned out that it is still possible to be friends with Gala. Yes, communication is in a sense one-sided, but friendship is not only communication. Rather, not only verbal communication. Friendship is oranges brought to the hospital ("I took it from a lured uncle, not shit!"), A gift for the birth of a child, a firm "forward!" When others bleat "are you sure?" And even her rudeness at some point stopped cutting my ears and other organs. Sometimes this spat out mat served as a lightning rod for me.

There are times when rudeness warns stupidity.

There are many people around us who, at first glance, seem inappropriate, erroneous, too over- or obviously necessary. And we mentally take up arms against them, let them annoy us, discuss them with others in a poisonous whisper, and maybe even plot intrigues, which is completely humiliating. In an age of satiety and prosperity, when we do not need to unite against monsters like war, we arrange small wars in the office and at home, in traffic jams and in the market, in large and small companies of friends. We splash in puddles of conflict like pigs, splashing mud and our own energy. And then we wonder why the head hurts, the pressure jumps and the fifth virus sticks in six months. Because conflicts devour us, suck out joy, like dementors, turn us from people who are satisfied with life into quarrelsome aunts with blue lips.

Having become a little older and wiser, I realized that in the life of each of us there are no random people. Each person, no matter what at first glance he may be the opposite, is given to you by life for a specific purpose. Maybe make you stronger, or maybe more tolerant. Maybe teach to forgive or say goodbye. Or maybe - and very often - to show what is in you and what you yourself need to work on in order to become freer and happier. Egocentrics suffer the most from conflicts, people with a huge, not crammed I, who think that only they are right and only their truth is the most truthful, that everyone should think and do as they do, because they are the best. But in fact, there are many truths and they are all different. And maybe people come to this world,in order to have time to share with each other many of these truths in the time he has measured - to put together one large puzzle out of hundreds of pieces, to sew your own canvas from different threads, unique and amazing.

“This world is built on these very differences,” the singer Zemfira once sang.

You can get out of the loop of conflicts, learn to live your life and be in harmony with the world if you perceive people not as rivals, but as equations. If you see more good in them than bad, and treat the bad with compassion. And the main thing is if you find something new in them instead of looking for yourself. The writer Alexander Genis has some good lines:

“The beauty of a cat is not that it is beautiful or, moreover, useful. His charm is that he is Other."

Like Gala - yours or mine.

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