No, thank-you.

This might be the most-important story I was told last year.

I was chatting with a good friend, and asked about being open while protecting myself from abuse. She shared a parable about an abusive old man in a small village. I applied the lesson from the parable later that same night, and several times that week.

An old man in a small village enjoyed intimidating his neighbors. He would abuse them verbally until they felt bad about themselves, telling them how lazy they were, or stupid, or thoughtless. Everyone was afraid of him, and this made him feel powerful. Having mastered his village, he wanted to go further and dominate the guru who lived peacefully in nearby hills.

He visited the guru and offered rotten fruit as gift. The guru declined, saying nothing more than "No, thank-you." The old man feigned anger, and began his verbal lashing of the guru. After receiving each abusive statement, the guru simply said "No, thank-you." Eventually the old man's feigned anger turned to real anger, and he lost control, yelling "What do you mean, 'no thank-you'? That doesn't make any sense, I wasn't offering you anything!"

The guru replied, "When you offer me rotten fruit, I say 'no, thank-you' because I know it is bad for me, and I do not accept it. Then you have to carry your own rotten fruit while you return home."

Almost every application I have had for this lesson has been in defense of myself, from myself. While listening to the story, I missed an important call. When I discovered this, I made myself feel guilty for not returning home sooner. Then I saw how I offered myself that rotten guilt, and accepted it. Finally, I told myself "no, thank-you" and refused to accept the guilt any longer.

The story's abstract lesson, for me, is that I can protect myself without building defensive walls. There's no need to create one-size-fits-all boundaries. Instead, I can remain open but discriminate between good and rotten fruit. Of course I will make mistakes, most likely accepting rotten fruit due to an assumed obligation. When I observe myself compounding those mistakes with additional self-abuse, I simply tell myself, "no, thank-you."