How I Accidentally Became the Thing That Annoyed Me

Lately, I’ve found myself in a bit of a conundrum. I’m at the stage of life where peace and kindness matter more than ever—and yet, that seems to be in short supply sometimes. The habit some folks have of talking over one another, teasing until someone reacts, or pushing buttons just to get a rise out of people—it wears me down.

More and more often, I quietly excuse myself and slip back to my apartment. I’ve even tried speaking gently, one-on-one, with a few people to let them know how their behavior affects others. As you can probably guess, that hasn’t made much difference.

When I moved into this apartment community, I imagined friendly chats, laughter, and the easy company of people my age. Instead, I often feel like I’ve landed back on the playground—just with older "kids.” It’s disheartening. I’ve known people who turned into those “grumpy old men and women,” and I’ve always promised myself I wouldn’t be one. As they say, good intentions.

The other day, I was visiting my sister. She goes all out for Halloween—think yard inflatables, lights, skeletons, the works. Me? I decorate a little for each season, but not for specific holidays. After years as a single parent doing all the buying, setup, teardown, and cleanup, I was perfectly happy to scale back once the kids were grown.

My dad was a big yard decorator, too, so I can see where my Sister gets it. Still, I couldn’t help but say something about how over-the-top it seemed—and I hurt her feelings. She truly loves it and believes people who drive by or stop to look enjoy it too. I wanted to roll my eyes. 

But later it hit me that her Halloween joy is the same as my joy in tending my flower beds. I spend money and energy on plants, dirt, and garden knick-knacks because it makes me happy. It soothes me. It’s my thing.

So last night, I asked my daughter to drive me over to my sister’s house (I try not to drive far at night). I made a point to tell her how wonderful everything looked. I took pictures, admired the lights, and said every appreciative word I could think of to compliment her work. It was my way of saying, “I get it now.”

Funny how life has a way of showing us our own reflection. The same behavior that bothered me around the Talk Table—the teasing, the judging, the little unkindnesses—was exactly what I’d done to my sister.

I’m learning that peace doesn’t just mean avoiding chaos; it also means catching myself before I add to it. I still wish my neighbors would be a little gentler with each other, but for now, I can at least make sure I am.

More later ...