One of the things I’ve learned to do in my long marriage of 39 years is ignore my husband. Well, no, not ignore, because I pay attention a great deal. I guess what I mean is to not react to certain things he does or says.
Like the other night when we misunderstood one another as to who was preparing dinner.
We’ve learned when not to say anything, to let things go because they are unimportant.
So, when at ten minutes before seven I find him banging around in the kitchen and I asked what’s the matter? And he said I thought you were going to cook, I didn’t react. What I thought was H.A.L.T.—hungry, angry, lonely, tired. He was tired and hungry, having worked all day in the yard. I felt a little cringey on the edges, like wilting just a bit and realized I was hungry myself, which tends to make me irritable, and figured it was only a matter of getting food into both our systems.
When I didn’t react, he settled down, apologized and we had a civil and decent meal together.
I’ve learned to let go, to live and let live, to know when something is important and when something is not. My husband and I do common things differently. For example, we load the dishwasher differently. What does it matter if he loads a bowl one way and I do it another? I let it go.
When we were young, we made so many things important that weren’t. Today, we mind our own business, and the business that is ours together we don’t take so seriously. On a day-to-day basis, that sure makes getting along a lot easier.
Only with equanimity can we see that everything that comes into our circle has come to teach us what we need to know.
Pema Chödrön, Comfortable with Uncertainty, p. 62
Sage advice.