Monday, August 17, 2009

my mythology

Last night David and I were discussing the Founding Fathers of America and we had a major disagreement about them. (I know what you're thinking - who would want to fight about old white guys wearing support hose?) I could feel my blood pressure rising as we both held our ground - and so I made the very mature decision to slink away to the bedroom to lick my wounds. Later, David came back and apologized for upsetting me, telling me that it was never his intent to do so. It was then that I realized my hurt had nothing to do with my husband. It was of my own making, as usual.

"Anytime you find yourself wanting sympathy,
you’re trying to get someone to join you
in your mythology. And it always hurts."

Byron Katie (from Twitter)

5 comments:

Jane said...

ouch

S said...

Yeah, ok, but who was RIGHT??
Oh? Wrong question?

Steve said...

Founding fathers...ah yes. The group of christian...nope that's not right...deist...well, that is partially right...certainly followers of Jesus...well, that got better as soon as they relinquished their slaves...neighborly bunch of good old boys...well, as soon as they apologized for relocating and disenfranchising two indigenous groups known as the Mexicans located in those out-of-the-way places like California, Texas, and Arizona and the Native Americans who are called Native Americans because they were The Native Americans... not to mention the Afrikaners they took hostage and moved from their very native soil and culture to become our soil and encultured folk. Why, these founders were the kinds of guys you bring home to mama and have a tall glass of lemonade.

Sneaky Momma said...

Some couples fight over bills, some fight over household duties, you guys argue over the Founding Fathers. I love it! :)

My husband would have loved to have been in on your discussion. He's a U.S. History teacher.

Lauralew said...

Living where I live, in the Black Hills of South Dakota, one sees the second picture everywhere. As well one should. Living here has illuminated my sensitivities in many ways. And, I'm ashamed to say in reference to my family, my grandmother was an Oklahoma Cherokee... I should not have needed to move to South Dakota to get my priorities in order. Sorry, Grandma.