My discussion of the boat was more than an exaltation of the vessel itself. It provided the necessary context to understand that making comments about other boats is neither proper nor appreciated. I only have eyes for my boat, and the comments muddied that fact. Even if my comments were not intended that way, I can understand the effect of such statements. That is not an effect I want to have. I will not ask others to understand and temper their feelings for my benefit. I will change my behavior to respect the feelings of others once something becomes known. I will still defend against the should have known criticism, but that is not a defense of my speech, nor is it an attack on the other person's sensitivities. Those sensitivities are not wrong.

I made a mistake previously. I tried to get others to understand and accept me without first understanding them. I put myself out there in bold fashion without much thought for how my words might affect another person. I used to think (previous, past tense, not any longer) that if another person got offended, that was their fault. If only they knew better. If only they understood. They should know.

It was a selfish way of thinking.

That way does not invite others in. It pushes them away and builds walls instead of bridges. The walls are covered in spikes too. Spiky walls are difficult to navigate. Minefields are difficult to navigate as well. I now have a deeper understanding of how someone can choose to approach the spikes and navigate the mines because they love the person who built them. That someone keeps coming back. I find myself in that position, and that is where I gained an understanding of this concept.

There are spikes, and I am willing to be cut. There are mines, and I am willing to be exploded on. All of this exists, and my intense desire to get past the defenses is what keeps me coming back. The defenses do not destroy who I remain throughout the process. I feel the blast. I feel the cuts. I heal. I take that risk with caution, but also with consistency in my response. The underlying thought goes something like this: "I don't care if I get hurt in the process because I am gentle, kind, nice, patient, and here to understand."

There's good news. The good news is I am using these processes with intention in my interactions with others. I am building bridges. I am also looking inward, tearing down walls, and digging up mines.

There's bummer news too. The bummer news is people who once only knew the spikes and mines may be afraid they still exist. That's a very valid fear. My own experience teaches me this same lesson. I understand.

I use the skills discussed above to keep all of this aligned with respect for the other person. I do not attack their experience or what they learned from that experience. I seek to understand. I change my behavior. I do not attempt to make them understand so they change their behavior.

I'll throw another thought out here: Do I do this for everyone?

Oh man...

That can get confusing to navigate in practice, so I need to explore the nuances of its application. Immediately, I see an obvious group where this would always apply: the people I genuinely care for and love. Those are the people who receive my utmost care and understanding. I am not out to change them. I am here to understand and accept them as they are. These folks often do the same for me. That mutual respect is part of the foundation of the relationship.

After the first group, I see a group of people that would not be candidates for my highest level of understanding and care. I want to pause and clarify something: this group does not get rudeness or a lack of empathy. I can still feel empathy for those people. I can choose to disengage rather than change myself for them. I can take a moment to repair the damage, if repair is possible. I am then allowed to decide if this is a person I would want in my life. If not, I can move on knowing I meant no harm, repaired what I could, and practiced empathy along the way.

I started to say there is a third group of people that fall somewhere in the middle. I stopped myself. The grouping was starting to become too much like a formula, and people are not classified so cleanly. The second group has a qualifier that sorts people into two categories: those I want in my life and those I don't. Which means I accidentally created three groups already: the people I care for, the people I don't, and the people I would like to get to know better.

After this writing, learning happened, and now I see that people are not classified into groups. It starts with a baseline of humanity. Then, discernment is applied to determine where someone falls along the continuum.

What I am discussing turns less on groups of people and who gets empathy and compassion. It becomes a continuum for all people. All people deserve empathy and respect.

The turning point comes back to me. Who gets access?

It does not depend on their treatment of me. I said above, "these folks do the same for me." That is not a condition or prerequisite. It does not change what I choose to do.

It could be said that my deepest reserves are for reciprocal relationships. This also does not mean that I must abandon myself because I love someone. It does not permit cruelty, meanness, or manipulation. It makes no promises about the future. Past access does not equal future access.

My humanity can be defined simply: treat people with kindness and empathy, avoid unnecessary harm, repair when possible, and discern an appropriate level of access.