The other day I was sitting at home, getting ready to go to bed. Then I see an ownerless piece of paper lying on the floor, I bend down to pick it up, deftly pick it up with my fingers, and straighten up. Well, at this moment, naturally, I hit my turnip against the open window with all my might. All thoughts immediately fly out of my head, except for one - I wish I could tear off the hands of the one who left the window open. I vaguely understand that this someone is me. "Damn me from the past!" - I scream in despair, clutching my bruised head with my hands. When the pain subsided and reason returned, I began to assess the situation more comprehensively. I probably had reasons to open the window. I remember it was hot, stuffy, and it was just getting pleasantly evening outside. “But you couldn’t open the window so much?!” - I still throw insults at myself. “You could have taken care of me, by the way!” But, probably, it’s not only me in the present who has complaints about myself from the past. Surely the future me has a lot to show to my present self. “Go and wash the dishes so that tomorrow morning you don’t have to scrub the dried grease off the plates. And in general, if you went to bed earlier, dear friend, you would feel better tomorrow.” And everything seems to be legitimate, but it’s just so infuriating. In the end, what am I supposed to do to make him feel good there?! And your lip won't crack, by any chance? And then I thought hard. If I can’t come to an agreement with myself, I can’t hear myself and truly understand myself, then what is the chance that I hear others? And when they complain to me, I don’t brush it off, but really delve into what they’re telling me? Or if I am already the victim, then can I perceive that the other had his own motives to act this way and not otherwise? And I don’t mean laying down my bones for the sake of another, not at all. To begin with, just hear, understand, and, if there is no desire or strength to help, explain the reason for the refusal. This is what in Gestalt could be designated by the word contact. But in contact it’s scary, there’s me, my needs, there’s the other person, his needs, and it’s not always possible to combine them elegantly. It is much calmer not to notice the other, concentrating on yourself. And when the other one gets really annoying, then resort to saving altruism in the spirit of “okay, I’ll rinse the dishes so that my wife doesn’t freak out.” Well, what next? And then one person accumulates irritation over unnecessary body movements, the meaning of which he does not understand, while the other becomes dissatisfied because they still don’t hear him, even though they seem to be doing something. Sooner or later, the tension reaches a critical point, is released in some familiar way (scandal, complaints to someone else, passive aggression, such as playing the silent game, etc.), and everything returns to normal. Many problems in relationships could have been resolved solved or prevented if people spoke openly about their claims and wishes, and their opponents listened to them. They didn’t ignore, they didn’t try to shut up, mindlessly agreeing, but they really listened. But it turns out to be not so simple. Of course, I couldn’t do this even with myself, preferring to blame my past self for all mortal sins, and brushing aside the claims of my future self. What can we say about dialogue with others? Well, that’s what I get in the head. On that day from myself, on another - from my wife, on the third - from someone else. That's how we live.