In My Space

At a club with friend suffering from Parkinson’s. Lots of shaking of legs. Sitting beside someone who suddenly expresses exasperation, though the involuntary nature of the shaking is obvious.

“You are in my space,” she says.

This is a club, chairs and tables, people sitting down. Didn’t know there were demarcations or unseen railings.

She could have said something along the lines of I will move away a bit to make it easier for you, or made light of the involuntary circumstances of the trembling.

“In my space” instead, Somebody with some bent sense of the utility of assertiveness training, if not therapy. A phrase that involves little civility, let alone compassion. A phrase that focuses exclusively on self.

We moved. She sulked. Then walked out when the dance floor in front of her got too crowded. Too much in her space.

About brucelarochelle
This entry was posted in Ottawa Reflections, Psychology, Various life philosophies. Bookmark the permalink.

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