“Between stimulus and response lies a space. Within that space is our ability to choose how we respond.” ~Viktor Frankl
I briefly lost sight of that space.
Whenever conflicts emerged in my life—with my employer and subsequently with my insurance company—I held back from reacting with fury or sending hasty emails.
My method appeared to be more rational.
I constructed arguments.
I formulated intricate, organized explanations with references to policies and rational links. I thought if my case was unassailable, it would be indisputable.
It appeared reasonable.
But it was devoid of peace.
When Conflict Impacts the Body
The conflict wasn’t limited to my inbox; it influenced my physical state.
I woke up rehearsing arguments and reexamining sent messages for flaws. Silence didn’t alleviate my defensive mindset.
My jaw was tense. I remained alert, feeling insignificant within formal structures.
Fear lingered, albeit initially unnamed.
Fear of misinterpretation, rejection, or reasoning gaps being taken advantage of.
Thus, I strove to eliminate gaps.
The Urge to OverExplain
Conditioned to think methodically, I naturally sought structure. When issues arose, I scrutinized the connections.
Under stress, this instinct intensified.
The more nervous I felt, the more elaborate my explanations grew. My emails turned out to be complex, thorough, and heavy.
And draining.
I came to realize that my desire for completeness wasn’t merely a matter of discipline.
It represented anxiety in disguise.
Addressing every aspect didn’t yield tranquility; it kept me in a whirl.
The Strength of the Pause
The change didn’t occur overnight.
It commenced with interruptions.
Prior to sending certain emails, I began to create distance. Sometimes I stepped away for a day or revisited drafts, posing questions:
Is this understandable? Is it overly detailed? What result am I hoping to achieve?
The revelation wasn’t in the feedback, but in the pause.
Instead of adding further explanations, I began to strip them away.
Half of what I composed was justifiable yet superfluous. I didn’t have to forecast every rebuttal or justify fairness’s philosophical basis.
What I needed was precision.
And precision paved the way for calmness.
Finding Clarity
As I streamlined my communication, clarity emerged.
Each message became more impactful.
I began to witness the relief that a more concise approach could bring.