You Stop Fault-Finding When You’re Okay
My husband Lee has a gum infection, and it’s lowered his tolerance level. I always know when he’s out of sorts because he picks fault with the way I slice the bread or cut the cheese. When he’s well, I could crumble the cheese or bread into chunks, and it wouldn’t bother him. I’m the same with doors. If overtired, and Lee enters the room via a closed door and exits without closing it again, I huff and sigh. That’s how I know I’m not okay. When I’m happy and fit as a fiddle, I don’t care whether he closes the door. I’ve noticed the same phenomenon with other people. Lee’s brother gets frustrated with flies when he’s upset. We can sit drinking coffee on a sunny day, and if he sees a fly, he leaps from his chair and waves his arms around, complaining bitterly. “Pesky fly. I don’t believe it. I’m always getting rid of them.” He chases the fly with a rolled-up newspaper, often knocking the table and spilling his coffee. “Look at the way that car’s parked.” My neighbor glares at it, seething with contempt for the thoughtless driver who dared park at a slight angle. I know better than to join in and remember to change the subject. He has insomnia, and a lack of sleep, like many other disorders, can reduce your acceptance of imperfection.The problem with fault finding, when we’re not okay, is that we imagine our discomfort is caused by something or someone external. We rarely recognize we’re anxious or mad because we need a little TLC (tender loving care). Instead, we rage at others, demanding…
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