The only relationship I’m in is with my head

On a recent Saturday morning, I was sipping sunshine and green tea in my garden. One of those days where I had nowhere to be and nothing to do. Nothing apart from ordering a new washing machine… my old one had given up the ghost the previous evening. The signs had been there for a while. For the past 7 years, the spin cycle was a plane at take-off. And for the previous 2 weeks, it got even louder. If a washing machine could sound like it was in pain, this was it.

So, on that Saturday morning, the inevitable research, purchase, delivery and installation needed to be sorted – because I already had a pile of laundry to be done. I would leave this task to Friday evenings and the weekends because during the working week, there was no way I could have the washing machine on, making that unholy din while I was on full days of Zoom calls.

Back to my Saturday morning, in the garden. The mug of green tea on the 2-foot wall next to me, phone in hand, scrolling through the options of the retailer I knew would have the best range of options at a decent price. Hey, I’d even done some preparation! I’d measured the height, width and depth of the recess the new machine would have to fit into, I wrote the 3 measurements on a post-it, and took it into the garden with me. I was ready…

I narrowed my options that suited the measurements down to 3 based on price, energy efficiency and customer reviews. I clicked on one, chose the add-on to take the old machine away and install the new one and chose the delivery date as soon as they could deliver and where I could be available for half a day when my schedule was open: clear of meetings and calls. The new cost was about 50% of the price of the machine itself with these add-ons. And a memory came back.

The last time I had a new washing machine (19 years ago, it turns out, based on the receipt I’d dug out from a kitchen drawer), the 2 guys who came to install it made a pig’s ear of a job of it. They complained about the plumbing setup, they huffed and puffed, and during the first wash after they’d gone, my kitchen floor became a swimming pool. Not great for a wooden floor. It was a disaster. 2 plumbing call-outs later, and the fiasco was rectified. That said, there were still some occasional leaks that needed my best efforts to tighten up the plastic pipes next to the machine, under the kitchen sink.

And here I was, years later, about to have 2 other people from the same company, install a new machine. I got ready to give them a piece of my mind. They complained about the plumbing set up. They huffed and puffed. They messed it up. I was in my swimming gear, mop in hand, ready to save me from needing to build an ark… All because these 2 guys couldn’t do their job. This time, I wasn’t going to take it. No freaking way! I got angry and got clear on what to say, that they’re work was unacceptable and I would be talking to the CEO of their company. I looked up who this person was so I could name drop them into the conversation with these bozos to give me the best chance possible of this installation to go as well as possible, given these people’s ineptitude and bad attitude!

I looked up at the sky. Blue. A whisp of a cloud, or maybe the remnants of the fumes of an aeroplane that had gone overhead. I looked down. My bare feet. My hands on my phone. My butt on the garden chair.

No washing machine. No one there installing the thing. No flooded kitchen.

I was having an argument with people who weren’t there about a washing machine I’d not even purchased!

Oops! Humans, eh?

Me, being an example of how thought works in a human being, there’s no escape from this. I’m never in a relationship with the world or people. I’m in a relationship with thought. The thought I’m having right now.

Why does this matter? If no one is the cause of how I’m feeling in any and every given moment, then the solution can’t be for me to change someone for me to change how I feel.

(I’m not saying that there aren’t many occasions that having a conversation with someone can be needed. But, I know that the conversation goes far, far better when I’m not in my reactions. When I’m more centred, more calm, more conciliatory, a better listener. These conversations are 100% more likely to have a better outcome and an improved relationship when I’m in a better state of mind.)

Back to the argument I was having with no one on that Saturday morning. I was in a ‘bad’ feeling. What was happening, was nothing. Yet, the lovely peaceful morning was being robbed by me, buying into the thought storm in my head. I reflected. Got quiet.

And realised again: the only thing that can ever rob me of inner peace is following thought, and thinking more about it.

With love and thanks,

Wyn