A Cruelty Turned The Landfill of My Mind Into A Hopeful Recycled Space

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Not long ago, my luck in life improved when someone I know gifted me a cruelty that was meant to put me down and raise them up — which it did. I cried for a day at least. But it also opened the door to some wisdom that might have taken longer to access had it never happened.

Since I was randomly caught in the storm of this person’s anger, this was a stroke of luck, I’d say. I did nothing to earn this luck — as is a prerequisite for luck. Even though, at the time, I felt like the most luckless person, I knew early on that I was going to mine this experience for gold.

Much has changed in me these last seven years from my coaching training. I knew this broadside hit was an opportunity to mine the rare metal of compassion, both for myself and others. I know now that when something gets me down, there’s an opportunity to learn and a gift of goodness to discover, no matter how small or hidden. I knew there had to be something in this experience just waiting underneath the surface of my tears and anger.

There was.

I think in many circumstances, I can be naïve, even though I’m a keen human observer, too. My life hasn’t been spent in fast-paced, dog-eat-dog environments that many people contend with in their careers. I’m not used to the possibility that someone will be so out of control that they’d hit anyone in their path. I’ve had a relatively safe life this way, so I’m shocked when it happens to me, which it rarely has.

This might be why I was stunned to read a scathing, though disguised, article about me by someone I thought was a peripheral friend. Of late, this person’s anger had grown because of others’ success — if you can call it success. It’s been more arbitrary markers than anything. Eventually, the anger became too much for this person, and they released it by exploding in a seemingly innocuous article. While it was easy to see what this person was doing if you were aware of all the pieces, it’d be hard to recognize by a reader just passing by.

In the day or two afterward, I went back into the article and read the amused comments by others. This cut further into my heart, but I knew they didn’t know, and this helped a little. This is the moment the mining started. I sensed a tinge of perspective emerging from my sad mind — a bit of logic about the situation, a bit of organization of the various truths.

More than anything, I didn’t want to be brought down by anger. Anger is a bunch of fiery neurons and a fast heart rate. I’m a whole person who wants to live in goodness and have a positive effect on the world.

As I dug my way to the lesson this situation offered, I had to dispose of the accumulating dirt. I’d mine for the logic and healthier perspective, but then I’d ricochet back over to the anger and hurt. I needed a place to dump this unhelpful waste.

And, speaking of dumps, I love them.

My earliest memory of visiting a landfill — or dump, as it’s sometimes called — was the one my future husband and I visited a few times in California when I was an undergraduate making large-scale sculptures. There was a dump in the area with a metal scrapyard adjacent to it where you could search for old mechanical parts, metal, and assorted objects to refashion into functional things. My boyfriend scavenged with me, both of us looking for detritus we could turn into the next fine art masterpiece.

We did find some cool items. We did turn them into masterpieces — by junkyard standards. We did schedule some of our early dating in front of mountains of refuse. I did fall madly in love with landfills.

I understand that look on your face. Landfills are at best stinky, rat-infested ick-places. But I’m not saying I love mounds of decomposing foodstuff. Ew.

I’m amazed by these unique spots. First, they show you how much trash we generate as humans. This is a valuable thing to see. Second, they’re so different from the rest of my daily life. They’re industrial but in a trashy sort of way. There is a constant flow of business, all in the service of getting rid of things.

This is eye-opening — to know you contributed to this. Yet, it’s inspiring once you see it. How will you live differently now? Even just a little? It’s got a serious though casual vibe that invites you to observe, learn, and contemplate.

This is exactly how it was with the trash in my mind. It was eye-opening and an invitation to observe, learn, and contemplate. I kept generating thoughts of revenge disguised as humility. Since I was an innocent bystander, the other person sat in a vulnerable position. I had the option to respond publicly in a way that looked humane and humble, but which would have sunk their ship.

This was trash — and I knew it. The anger in me would spur these thoughts, but the person I’ve always been would never have allowed it. Yet just because I wouldn’t have followed through, didn’t mean my mind didn’t go there. Here was the pile of trash from which I wanted to learn.

So, I did.

Every time I dove into the pain, I stood back up and smoothed myself out. Years ago, I’d have kept feeding the monster of hurt and anger. This time, I looked for every instance of peace and gratitude during that handful of days — and I amplified them, acknowledged them, and thought about them. It was certainly true — I was fortunate not to have to contend with jealousy in my life and the anger that comes from it. I banished jealousy from my mind decades ago when I watched what it did for people in my life. It’s been persona non grata all these years. It’s not that I don’t feel it peek from the darkness sometimes, but I say, "Sayonara, baby," as soon as it tries to dump its load on my soul.

Before long, I could see it — the gold. It was a tiny glimmer at first, but eventually, I held it in my hand. Here I was, unscathed, and this person, my peripheral friend, was still housing anger. As a resident in our minds, anger is the worst. It grabs, spits, and bangs the walls all night, never once paying rent. That’s a crappy dump in which to live, a hard life, and this makes me sad.

I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, though I don’t have any enemies. That friend certainly isn’t one. That friend is struggling, and I hope they feel better soon. I hope they find a way out of their dump, and I wish them peace. There’s a lot of gold in the world yet to be mined. How amazing it’ll be once it’s discovered.

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Have a nice week, everyone. Happy Autumn!