“Don’t Take Anything Personally.” That is the second agreement from the book “The Four Agreements” by Don Miguel Ruiz. I thought I understood what that meant until recently.

I have the honor of facilitating Sunday services at my church once a month. A couple of weeks ago, my talk was called “Presence in the Pause.” I talk about those conversations where we get an emotional charge and immediately shift from listening to waiting to respond. You know the ones where we start thinking about all the things we are going to say to defend ourselves.

The funny thing is that our emotional response is never about the person in front of us. If we pause and ask ourselves where this comes from, it is probably from our past and has nothing to do with the person in front of us, and that is the very reason we should “not take things personally.”

In early February, I met someone at church. While talking to them, I spilled an entire cup of coffee on the white carpet. I was embarrassed and panicked, desperate to clean it up. My minister also tried to help clean it up, then assured me it was OK because we sold the building. The person I was talking to seemed completely oblivious to the situation. I immediately put up a caution flag.

Then a few weeks later, I went to lunch with the same person. As we walked to the restaurant, I tripped, and they kept walking without saying anything for a few minutes. Now I had more evidence that this person was obviously a jerk.

See, the story running in the background at the time was about my dad. He and my mom went to the Poconos for vacation. They went out on the paddle boats, and when they returned to the dock, my dad got off and started walking away. My mom was getting off; she fell between the boat and the dock, and my dad had no idea.

I remember them laughing as they told the story, but my younger self did not find it amusing. I worried about my mom’s safety, and I was mad at my dad for not making sure she got out safely.

When I tripped, I was not mad at them. I was brought back to this moment and mad at my dad.

As our relationship developed over time, I discovered that they are a very kind, sensitive soul. I confessed my earlier judgment of them, and to my surprise, they shared with me their perspective on both instances. The first one was in church with the coffee spill; they heard the minister say not to worry about it, so they didn’t understand why I was trying so hard to clean it up. And the second time, when I tripped, they didn’t want me to feel embarrassed, so they said nothing.

My Creative Harmony communication style showed up in these interactions, and I projected how I would have responded. I would have helped clean it up, and I would have asked if they were okay after they tripped. They are Action Template, so in the coffee situation, why waste time (Action) on doing something when the authority (Template) already told me not to worry about it. Then, with the tripping incident, Action communication styles don’t like to be embarrassed, so they were projecting onto me how they would like to be treated.

If I hadn’t shared my experience with them, I would never have heard how they experienced those circumstances, and my stories could have stopped me from spending time with them and getting to know them. I would have missed out on getting to know a beautiful human being. It wasn’t personal; it was a projection from my past into the moment, and it could have had huge consequences on my future.

I believe this is what Don Miguel Ruiz is trying to teach in his book: that it is never really personal, which is why I remind people to pause and take a breath when those emotions rise.

“What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream.”
— Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

So, the next time you feel an emotional spark when speaking to someone, can you pause? Would you get curious and ask yourself who or what it’s really about? Then ask yourself whether this story still serves you now.