Intrusion

Have you ever had one of those moments where something or someone comes barging into your perfectly framed shot? That moment when you thought your composition and framing were just perfect, and you find out that someone has decided that your space is the exact area they need to occupy. If you have, you’ll understand the feelings that emerge when this occurs.

For some of us, when things are arranged just so, we find ourselves in a place of inflexibility. Our expectations become rigid and fixed based on what we believe should be the outcome. We’ve composed the shot and waited until the light is perfect, and it should be captured as God and ourselves intended. Even the slightest derivation causes decompensation, a movement to either passively address the wrongs through murmured cursing and sputtering or more active methods and means designed to signal our displeasure.

Even further, we sometimes take on the role of divine punisher on behalf of someone else. Perhaps we’re along for the story and understand how much that captured moment means. Maybe we know the effort required to keep all the pieces and people together in one place to capture that perfect moment. Regardless, if punishment or corrective action needs to be meted out, we’re there for it.

Over these past couple of years, I’ve found myself prone to reflection — reflection on the paths that have led me here, the movements forward in both my employment and my personal life, and the ultimate reflection on behaviours that once were sufficient but now need to change. It’s led to the self-assessment that we often run away from — a deep and painful look into the shadowy corners of personal experience to sort the gold from the coal if you will.

From the picture above, you would be hard-pressed to tell that I’m not angry, butt-hurt, or otherwise irritated. I can mug for the camera with the best of them, and now, I’m taking up my wife’s perceived offence. She’s crouched at my knees, lying up against the wall of this tunnel in Parc Güell and attempting to frame a shot of the organically shaped columns supporting this masterpiece. In turn, my finger points at an individual (soon to be joined by her friends) who decided to take an extended selfie session at the far end, thus intruding on our sacrosanct space.

Nothing this person did was wrong. Under normal circumstances, she did the absolutely correct thing: she distanced herself from others to engage in her own private soiree. In this circumstance, all the posturing and puffing from our end of the tunnel resulted in no change, no movement, and certainly no shot. Disappointing in the small grain of time we were there, but insignificant. The fact of the matter is, I got this weird shot because of it and a chance to vent my insufferability to you, my dear readers.

Again, we’re given moments to look back and reflect on our responses and characteristics. For all the obnoxiousness that I perceived this person to bring into my sacrosanct space, I was actually in the wrong for judging harshly. The actions of this individual, even if they didn’t fit my unseen and unspoken prescriptions for what they should have done, were done without malice, rudeness, and discourtesy. Should I have taken it beyond a virtual finger pointing them out, my current response would be asymmetrical and unbalanced, prone to the excess of unthinking judgment. Instead, hindsight, being one of our most significant opportunities for growth, has dictated that a non-response was perhaps the best response of all.

I try to make this a habit in my interactions with others. There are a few hot-button issues where I will be less kind and more prone to speak my mind, but those generally fall few and far between. As I’ve been going through this period, I’ve been reminded of my previous interactions with people, as you see above, hapless adventurers who’ve stepped foot into my space and received both barrels. As someone who’s managed people across various cultures, geographies, and expectations, I’ve not always been a shining example of grace and humility. But it’s something I can purpose do more of, to engender more kindness and good intention for those whose paths cross mine.

You are given moments of reflection like these, and when they appear, perhaps accepting the gentle reflection of who you once were is an excellent way to change the narrative around what you will become.

May it ever be so.