The silent treatment

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For me, there is nothing worse than the silent treatment. It was the anger technique my mother would employ. We we were not a family of yellers. Me, I became a walker-awayer in times of conflict. My mother would not walk away, but simply would not engage. Ouch. So, whenever I encounter someone who does the silent treatment, all kinds of buttons get pushed. Into that deep dark pool of silence, I always project the worst.

I sent an email to my teacher on Monday night, knowing that she was back from Festival. In the email, I over-explained myself (as I am want to do) in stating a simple truth – I was dropping out of class, though I would be available to help support the center. I thought it was the fair thing to do – to let her know before she got home. With only three people in class now, she needs to decide if there should be a class at all. Ultimately, it may come down to a decision whether or not there is a basis for a center at all. There is a shortage of qualified teachers in our tradition – perhaps it is time to set her free.

Of course, perhaps she is simply lacking email for whatever reason. Perhaps she is silently fuming at me (which would be out of character for a Buddhist nun). I have had only one communication from her in almost a month and a half. And this is a woman who normally kicks out multiple emails per day to me. It’s weird. Some moments it is all about me. Others I wonder if she is OK.

Everyone else who has returned from Festival has likewise been uncharacteristically quiet. I want news, I want gossip, I want wisdom – not necessarily in that order.

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