Found yourself in a political minefield?

I’m at my desk trying to answer an email. I want to word it right, so it’s taking me a bit of time.

I jump. A sudden tap on my shoulder.

I look up, and the person tells me they want a word. Now.

I step out of my shared office into the corridor, following the person. They turn abruptly and suddenly burst into a tirade.

Startled, I instinctively lean back.

They’re close because they’re trying not to shout, but the anger is clear.

I’m at a loss as to what exactly it is that I’ve done.

Eventually they finish.

I tried defending myself, but this seemed to make them even more agitated, so I stopped and just shut up.

It ends with a ‘don’t do that again’.

A put down, like I’m a child!

I don’t reply. I don’t want to prolong this.

I take a long deep breath and try to recompose myself.

It takes a long time for me to get over it.

Eventually, after a number of days, I speak with the person. I get anxious before I see them, so much so I’m unable to stop thoughts about this meeting crashing through my mind. My palms are sweating.

I just don’t want to end up facing another outburst.

It’s calmer and a conversation this time. They acknowledge that they flew off the handle. We discuss what happened, and how we can avoid that happening again.

Afterwards I feel a little relief that we’ve spoken and I better understand their point of view. Still I make a mental note that I need to be careful around this person.

So they don’t explode in my face again.

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Listening to what’s being said, I begin to realise that my stomach clenching into a tight knotted ball.

The conversation is almost like watching a couple of cats at play. Cute at first and then the claws come out. A swipe and a hiss. A tussle. One pinned down and the other dominant and oppressing. Tension held taut. Then separation before it snaps.

Then it starts again.

I can’t follow what’s happening anymore.

Then one says my name, and I bolt upright with fear. They want my opinion.

My stomach squirms.

It’s like I’m on a tightrope just out of reach and I’ve just been told to jump down, into mauling distance.

I manage to formulate something that keeps me on the tightrope.

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Playing The Game.

I don’t enjoy it, in fact I simply don’t like it.

I’d much rather have straight forward conversations, where we all get something from it.

But it seems that everyone has their own personal agenda, and empires to build.

And perhaps it’s not a matter of how I can avoid or escape The Game, but how I decide to play it.

I’ve been most uncomfortable when I’ve felt without power or control. When I’ve been at my most vulnerable to the whims of other people.

This is when I find it hard to think straight, to work out what’s in my best interests. Instead I ending up trying to appease everyone else, to stay out of danger.