I’m a numbers guy, so, as much as possible, I like to reduce my life to numbers. They are reliable (two is always two), though probably more comforting to me than they should be. As a computer programmer reminded me years ago, “Garbage in, garbage out.”
I also like to put my relationships into categories and then assign numbers to each category. My scale ranges from 1 for awful to 10 for perfect.
For example, I had a relationship with a coin dealer for many years. In the entertainment category he was a 10. For persuasion a 10. For honesty a 10. That was until one of my sons suggested that I have three of the rare coins I had purchased from him appraised, and discovered he had overcharged me by 33%. As a result, the coin dealer’s score for honesty slipped to a 4, although I probably should have downgraded him to a 1 and ended our relationship.
Silly me. I continued doing business with Mr. Coin. Four years later I sold a coin back to him for a substantial amount (amount, not profit). He paid me with a personal check. A few days later my bank told me he had stopped payment. I called him.
“Hi, Mr. Coin. You stopped payment on your check.”
“I know.”
“Do you need a few more days?”
“No.”
“Can I redeposit your check?”
“No. I decided I didn’t want to pay you.”
As I said, silly me. I sued him, and eventually collected most of what he owed. Of course, almost half of what I recovered went to pay attorney fees.
During the three years since the litigation, Mr. Coin has contacted me more than a hundred times by email and text messages, promising “great profit on a new business deal.” I now give him a score of 10 for persistence, and zero on everything else that matters. I will never communicate with him again.
A music school is seeking a new vocal instructor. The head of the school told me, “I recently interviewed a gentleman 
who was a great singer. But he was also a jerk. My teachers have to be team players, not prima donnas.” I guess that’s a 10 for singing, and a 2 for team skills. No job.
Each of us has many people in our lives. They may be partners, friends, coworkers, or relatives. Every single one of them will rank as a 7 or better in some areas, and a 3 or less in others. For example, if you were to score me on remembering either names or the clothing a coworker wore to work yesterday I would never receive more than a 3, and that might be generous.
A trial attorney I know employs Mark, an associate who is a great attorney but terrible at meeting with clients. She has Mark prepare pleadings and make court appearances. She does not allow him to meet with clients.
My point is this: everyone in your life has plusses and minuses. Try to isolate the plusses. Have an accountant handle your money, not your advertising. Ask a sympathetic friend for emotional support, but not to evaluate your investment account. And keep toxic people out of your life forever. In this way, your life will be lifted by the hot air balloon of joy because you will have released the heavy weights of negativity that hold you down.
And if you like that metaphor give me a 10. If not, perhaps a 7 for trying. (Maybe a 5 for humor?)
Thanks.
Alan
Good advice can come from unusual places.
ething I don’t want, I feel my body shifting into anger mode. That is normal, natural, and probably a survival skill. If I hold on to that anger, however, I create a coldness in that relationship which, after two years, or twenty, is certain to result in personal permafrost. Holding onto anger isn’t healthy for the relationship or the individual. But the physical and psychological benefits of forgiveness have been well documented. Last Saturday evening it warmed my heart to see Roger and Glenda, two friends who divorced thirty years ago, tenderly embrace each other in a local restaurant.
There are times when a good memory is distinctly unhelpful. An example is my vacation to Antarctica in 2008, which now seems like a lifetime ago.