“You're mean!”
It's my daughter. Although, to be fair, it could so easily be a client.
Because sometimes the things I say, are mean.
To a mind.
🤷🏻♂️
And what has provoked this snap judgement of my character, you may ask?
Oh, I can't remember. One of life's little irritations. It'll have been stairs-related, surely? An item of clothing perhaps, that should (🚩) be here, when it's not – it's there, instead?
All I know is that one minute I can hear carefree singing coming from the shower downstairs, and the next minute—up here—there's crossness and shouting and things being flung.
How do I respond?
Well, if you've been paying attention you'll know that I don't really get to choose. My response will depend on the way I'm seeing the world, right there in that very moment; what level my ‘consciousness elevator’ is on.
So…