The Games Sisters Play

There’s a disturbance in the force today. Yoda’s not around to help so I have to fall back on my own devices and resources. The last few days have left a sour taste in my mouth and if I truly examine my experience I was the one who tipped the spoon of sourness into my own mouth.

On Friday last I had an encounter with a women who played a full gambit of sister games with me. Most women who play sister games are not aware that they are doing so and make competitive noises and moves unconsciously. Often when I have been in the position to inquire, they do have sisters and they competed and do compete with each other for attention, space, material gain or time. What was most perceived as missing became, as they grew, a dominant value that ran their choices in profession, partners or hobbies, in other words it ran/ runs their lives.

I don’t have any sisters so I come to this dynamic disabled and have to break down the stages and types of competition very slowly. Even so I often find myself with my flummoxed face on after an encounter of the sister kind.

A day or so later I was crossing a street, on my way home after teaching a yoga class a car suddenly decided to turn and had to stop suddenly to take into account my presence on the road. I looked up, feeling calm, as you do after a yoga session and walked on. The female driver of the car stuck her head out of her Mazda and screamed, “You couldn’t go any slower bitch?” Dumbfounded I replied, ” …(unprintable)… Only if you ask nicely.”

The ramifications or waves of aggression took a while to settle, but in a way it was a mirror for me. That very morning I’d been driving to the said yoga class behind an incredibly slow driver and while I didn’t scream abuse I did mentally ridicule, roll my eyes and generally internally behave like a hoon… As you become more aware it becomes evident that thoughts have consequences they are attractive, they fly like birds from your head and journey back in a new form. Maybe this is karma. If I had not inflated my self balloon with self righteous indignation at the slow driver then maybe I wouldn’t have attracted the experience of being on the receiving end of negative energy.

So what to do with such an odd experience. Well I usually worry at it for an hour or so attempting to find the key idea in this case the one that made me critical of slowness. The very fact that I was on my way to teach a slowing down class of yoga was not lost on me. But what I really ferreted out was that as humans we listen to the storms of anger and get really attached to them while not taking note of the whispering waves of peace that are available even in the midst of turmoil. The driver was necessary to humble me, and fairly obviously I needed balancing out. My little internal, outburst of road rage was childish, unnecessary and yet enable me eventually to find that place of stillness that is neither storm or blue sky. In that place the female screamer was a great teacher, and to her I say, “Welcome to the world, I trust you will find peace and a slow cooked meal at the end of your day.”
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