As a kid, I had a toy which looked like a radio and had a string. When you pulled the string then let go, as the string retracted, a recorded voice would play a few snippets of 'speech'. There was a limited number of snippets, and you never knew which one you were going to get. When someone upsets me, they're yanking the string, but the narrative is prerecorded and preceded the interaction. It's not about them and it's not about the content of the situation. The other person is usually behaving positively or neutrally. When they're behaving badly, the crime is almost always trivial. The problem is mine, not theirs. I must not project my reaction onto them, as they are not the source of the reaction. They have occasioned its broadcast, but the broadcast was prerecorded. My job, instead, is to recognise I've had an old narrative activated, quietly switch it off, and get on with the day. Almost never is any analysis required, because the 'concrete detail' is merely form; the content is always the form: a sense of wrongness, guilt, and fear within me, stemming from the error that I am separate from God.