An old Buddhist text has the Buddha tell of a king who gathers every man blind from birth and brings them to an elephant. One feels the head and calls the animal a jar. Another touches an ear and gets a winnowing basket; another finds a post in its foot, while the tuft of its tail is plainly a broom. Then they start hitting one another with their fists, each insisting the elephant is like this and not like that. The elephant, meanwhile, doesn't get any simpler. Your next argument will begin the same way: you've got hold of the money, your partner has the tiredness, your mother has the worry, and each part feels remarkably like the whole from up close. Before you answer the first disagreement today, at the table or on the phone, name the part you're actually holding and leave room for the rest of the animal.