Don’t Pet the Gorilla
You’ve been warned.
It seems obvious but isn’t always.
When I first heard someone say this in a recovery meeting he used a colorful adjective between the and gorilla. Many work. And it was uttered with the same intensity as someone would tell a child not to touch a wall socket.
This idea, once I heard it, I took it to heart, meaning I splurged and bought a little purple squeezy doll gorilla.
At the time of this important purchase I was living in a small apartment. My grown kids and kids-in-laws placed a box of extra toys from the overflow at their respective homes to entertain their kids, my grandkids, whenever they would come to visit. This made me a very popular guy. I was the keeper of old toys.
But this gorilla, for a few years, didn’t live in the toy box with the others. He stood high on a shelf and overlooked all human activities below.
At first, when my grandkids saw him staring down they would ask the obvious question. Why was he up there and not down in their toy box? I would then tell them that he is up there because he’s a gorilla, and we don’t pet gorillas.
Of course they didn’t understand. The reminder was for me.
I have petted a lot of gorillas in my life interfering with their peaceful habitats. All for no good reason. Instead of minding my own business and not seriously understanding how rapidly peaceful situations can erupt when provoked, threatened, or embarrassed, I would make that small innocent-sounding comment or joke at another’s expense.
What made this behavior so difficult to identify in myself as a disrespect for others was a subtle belief that I was free of wounds and embarrassing touchy subjects of my own. I didn’t realize a gorilla was quietly sitting in me. I thought others just needed to grow up.
Love is sometimes best measured by what I don’t say and how well I don’t say it. Eventually little purple gorilla was aloud to join the other toys.
