I'm mad right now. Seething, actually. And I have never been comfortable with anger. It's a natural human emotion, the fuel behind the "fight" response so important to biological survival.
But for me, it's always been like a tool I don't know how to hold in my hand, much less use. Almost without exception, I wind up turning it inward, blaming myself. Probably so I can maintain a false sense of retroactive control over whatever situation has caused me to suffer and feel that fight response in the first place.
While today's ire is in response to a specific action by a specific person who is behaving like a spoiled toddler, lately I've found myself more frequently irritated by the shenanigans of people all around me.
The lickknobs riding my bumper no matter where I'm going or how fast I'm driving that almost always wind up right in front of me at the next red light.
The neighbor a few doors down who has always been pleasant to me directly, but somehow doesn't understand that cranking up his car stereo so that the whole neighborhood can hear just the baseline of his music is, well, a little rude.
The media blowhards constantly stirring people up into a froth because they get off on watching people hate each other.
The person who spent his time and energy coming up with a "joke" email to circulate, ridiculing fat people.
The woman at Target who parked her cart right in front of me, completely disregarding me as if I didn't exist, and probably not even realizing she was doing it, she was so self-absorbed with what SHE wanted at that moment.
The lack of patience and kindness and tolerance and understanding and compassion and personal responsibility I encounter in others on a daily basis that makes me really worry about the state of humanity and where this is all headed.
Since I can remember, I've always been aware of the space I take up, the impact I can have on others, the fact that my existence, my choices, my actions affect others and the world around me. I don't mind being responsible for myself. I'm getting weary of accommodating people who refuse to do the same.
I try to "play nice." For example, I would never expect the rules of a contest to be changed to suit me. I don't feel the need to lean on my car horn because the driver in front of me isn't halfway through the intersection as the light's turning green. I don't hover impatiently in the personal space of the woman in front of me at Einstein putting cream in her coffee.
Is it really so hard to behave like an adult? To control your impulses, to wait patiently, to share the world around you with others?
What's happening in our society that so many people don't ever seem to mentally progress past the age of three?
I recognize that people are flawed, that they often act out of pain, and I try to be patient with the other humans that cross my path. At the same time, I don't get that kind of consideration in reverse, and I'm feeling today like the Golden Rule is a bunch of bullshit.
That's probably the anger talking, though.
Copyright 2010 Melissa LaFavers