Go Ahead – Push My Buttons
push (one’s) buttons verb
• Make one react, or react unfavorably; to aggravate; to show off another’s character faults; to taunt. She knows how to push all his buttons.
Unfortunately, most “button pushers” get a bad rap. They’re considered rude and inconsiderate. They are the difficult people in life. Teachers send them to the principals office, parents scream at them, and bus drivers make them walk. Many parents try to protect their kids from button pushers.
We see them differently. We see them as vehicles for change. They definitely challenge us to tap into where we are stuck. If we’re willing to go there, we find more freedom. The more buttons we discover within ourselves and the more we learn how to notice them before we react in a way that does not serve us or the button pusher, the better we will be able to serve the world.
Constant comfort, pleasure, and ease won’t get you grounded and it certainly won’t get you elevated. So how do you know a button has been pushed? Usually your breath gets shallow. Your jaw tightens. Your eyes harden. Parts of your body contract. Perhaps your belly gets agitated like a turbulent plane ride.
You feel angry, hurt or withdrawn. These patterns prevent us from knowing our highest self. Remember, when a button gets pushed – you’ve just discovered another area for growth. So instead of plotting your next comeback for when a button gets pushed, stop, and tune int o your breath. Notice where you feel tight or contracted. Tap into the direct experience of the energy that informs those negative reactions and move from that awareness.
May we dare say honor the people who push your buttons. They will take you where you need to go.
As Earth Day approaches this year, I am struck by what it means to truly foster Peace on this planet. I remember as a child, learning about anti-nuclear protestors who chained themselves to fences and were forcibly removed and jailed. These brave souls became my heroines and heroes in the late 1970’s and 1980’s. I was moved to tears singing Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind” and hearing stories of civil disobedience and the message of non-violent resistance. Later in the 1990’s, when I danced barefoot on my very first Earth Day, a lump would form in my throat when I celebrated each small victory (and the Gigantic Hearts) of environmental protestors who sacrificed so much to save a single tree and worked to preserve open space for our children’s children. Peace.
