I recently pinned a photo of a darling little girl with a quote: “I am thankful for all those difficult people in my life, they have shown me exactly who I do not want to be.” I can’t quit thinking about it. On the one hand, it doesn’t feel good to label someone a “difficult” person. Heck, I’m a difficult person, or so I’ve been told, and being called difficult does not feel good. On the other hand, I struggle with trying to figure out why I click with some and can not click with others, and calling them difficult gets me off the hook. (Why do I waste so much energy worrying about not clicking with someone? –> Lizard brain.)
None of us clicks with everyone, and that’s a blessing. How much time would any of us have if we didn’t naturally filter out some people in order to have more energy to focus on others?
But I liked the pin, and I really liked her dimples. After seeing the message, I realized that I spend too much time trying to figure out why I don’t get on with some. Are they a mirror to me? Are they reflecting back to me the stuff I need to be working on? Are they in my life to teach me some new lesson? Could it be that I am the teacher? Gawd! For their sake, I hope I’m not their teacher.
What does it mean that I don’t click with this person?
The pin told me, “You don’t need to dwell on it. You don’t need to figure it out. You don’t have to understand why you don’t get along. It doesn’t have to mean that there is something wrong with you, or with them. The pin is telling you, ‘Don’t go there. Don’t be that. That isn’t meant for you.'”
I started to think of them less as being difficult, and more as guideposts along the way. When I see a person that I don’t click with, I can smile and wave and wish them well and keep moving. I don’t need to stop and over-analyze. I don’t need to set up camp and figure out what the issue is.
I can keep moving.
A couple days after seeing the pin, I listened to Abraham Hicks tapes on “difficult” people. The nutshell version is that finding someone difficult means we’ve let our vibration shift away from what feels good. No kidding. Of course that doesn’t feel good.
I want to know how to shift my focus back to what feels good.
A lot of training has gone in to focusing on others. A lot of years have been spent facilitating things for others. I haven’t done a whole lot of training on how to stay in the place that feels good to me.
It could very well be that I don’t know what feels good any more.
But the other day, I spent a couple hours around some thrivers – some happy, productive, capable folks that shot out good energy like sparklers on July 4th. So, I went back to that place full of sparkling people and hung out a bit more, and sent a mental note up to the cosmos. “This feels good. I like this. Is this what you mean by finding a good vibration? Because I can do this. I want to keep this.”
Random note: What if staying in the place that feels good
prevents reduces the number of mistakes made?
Now when I walk by a guidepost, I can smile (or fake a smile) and close my eyes and try to focus on the feel good place. I’ve no miracles to report. I’m not there all the time. My focus is like that of a squirrel. But there’s comfort in knowing that there is a place that feels good.
Then I stumbled across a discussion where some Hicks folks were talking about difficult people. One said, “There are foods I don’t like. I don’t like all types of music. I have preferences for movies. I don’t need to over-analyze my reasons for not liking eggplant, or country music or slasher flicks. I can just accept that I don’t like those things. And it’s okay to not like those things. Just as it’s okay to not like some people. So I stay away from eggplant and some people.”