Question 288 of 365: Are we picking fights?

I am offended by the things that might happen. Not the things you are saying or doing, but the the things that you might say or do if allowed to continue. I will argue with you now in the hopes of not having to argue with you the next time around. I am trying to help you. I’m trying to convince you that it’s going to be better in the long run. I’m trying to lay the groundwork so that political paranoia doesn’t spoil every decision we make. And you aren’t listening.

This is me choosing to pick fights now. I am going out of my way to be contrary. I think that I might be proving a point, but it seems as though I am doing nothing but losing face and momentum. As much as I speak about collaboration, I’m worried that I’m choosing to be difficult with some. I push my own agenda and I am afraid of what will happen if I stray.

I am also afraid of the fights I pick, or at least of the people I am picking them with. I am afraid of what they will say and where I will end up if I lose control of the conversation. I am afraid of losing my workflow and my identity simply by agreeing. I have decided that because they are wrong, I must develop a counter opinion. It is a sick game I am playing across the table. Every move is about trying to move into a stale mate, a cats game.

The pressure I feel is not unlike when I was in 7th grade choir class.

We couldn’t start the rehearsal until everyone’s back was straight and away from the back of the chairs. I always slouched in those days and I had made a point of telling people about this. I thought that I could sing perfectly fine in that position and I would stake my reputation on it. On one particularly strong-willed day, I stayed in the slouching position for 10 whole minutes while everyone in the classroom from the teacher to other would-be slouchers were trying to convince me to see the error of my ways. Some called me names and others simply rolled their eyes. I was going to wait them out, or wait for the teacher to break. I didn’t have any trouble being sent out of the room. I wanted to take my own position, quite literally. I made no friends that day.

I sat the way I wanted, just as I sit across the table and debate the minutiae.

I want to prove something, but I’m not sure what.

I want to collaborate, but on my terms.

I want to frame change, but I want to decide what goes in the frame.

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