Yesterday, I asked the question, “What’s in your wagon?” The wagon is that load of psychological, emotional, and religious baggage that we drag around all the time, often without even knowing it. Well, as is often the case, I no sooner asked myself that question than life presented me with a reminder. I hate it when that happens.

What led up to this was one of my editorials that was printed in the paper last Sunday. I got lots of affirmation from friends for what I wrote. I felt good, particularly since I had been nervous about sending it in. I feared that I might sound arrogant and privileged in my response to a previous editorial that sounded arrogant and privileged.

writingI want to write with a respectful, circumspect voice, and I want to be honest about my views. Sometimes those don’t go together. But the problem is that I also want to be liked. That definitely does not fit into the equation! Something has to give.

Then, two days ago, in a letter to the editor, a writer ripped my article apart. And he ripped me apart. He accused me of being arrogant. He said I was “disingenuous at best, diabolical at worst.” I’ve never to my knowledge been accused of being diabolical. This was new territory for me.

These days, writing is one of my ways of being known. I no longer teach or counsel, so I write. Sometimes my desire to be known and my desire to be liked do not play well together. This is one of those times.

My first reaction was anger and defensiveness. I wanted to immediately write a response that would explain my perspective better and would also blast the letter writer. That’s when my tendency to pace around and mutter to myself comes in handy. I talked myself down.

So here I am now recognizing that one of the objects in my wagon is a neatly wrapped package that reminds me to be nice so that people will like me. It looks very neat and nice, but it weighs a ton! I have been unloading that package for decades and there is still a lot in there! One of the things I have found with all the “be nice” stuff is a few piles of arrogance. Who knew!