Mary Morony, Author of Apron Strings, Done Growed Up and If It Ain't One Thing

Astride My High Horse

astride my high horseAt a recent dinner in Kampala, I learned how remarkably arrogant and self-righteous I am sometimes. Let me tell you how much I love seeing these unpleasant qualities particularly when astride my high-horse. This disconcerting revelation didn’t present itself until the morning after the meal.

I was glibly explaining how much my friend Stacey had been accomplishing using Applied Kinesiology at Rahab’s Corner to an American physician, whose profession I was unaware of at the time. I detected a subtle, but nonetheless decided, eye roll. The glazed look in the doctors’ eye confirmed to me that her mind slammed shut. I, of course, informed her that I observed that.  I feel the need to share a wiki-definition at this point:

Kinesiology is defined primarily as the use of muscle testing to identify imbalances in the body’s structural, chemical, and emotional energy.

kinesiologyBack to my story.  Nothing irritates me more than trying to converse with a closed mind. Hmm, seems like I might want to explore the topic a bit more. There could be a treasure trove of self-knowledge to be discovered. I completely understand that doctors have put half of their lives into the study of how to cure disease and help their patients. If I spent as much time, money, and effort into any pursuit, I certainly wouldn’t embrace a suggestion that there is a better way.  At least not at the start of a conversation with a stranger and certainly not when presented with a condescending attitude. After I informed my dinner companion that her mind was closed, I extolled the virtues of kinesiology. I employed a winning approach, like clubbing someone over the head with a baseball bat in order to prove the efficiency of the bat’s design. If your audience’s brain is still functioning at this point, it’s looking for the exit, not for the validity of your premise.

As I shudder at my highhandedness. I realize how gracious my dinner companion was that she didn’t punch me in the nose. If this were the first incidence in my life, I would write my hapless acquaintance a note begging her to please accept my sincere apologies and thank her for the lesson. Alas, it is not. I hope I won’t need a repeat performance, but I fear arrogance is a persistent devil especially when it has been given as much free rein and for so very long a time. I will try to do better.

 

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