Some days, you wake up to butter-paper wholesomeness. It's usually the day when deep wisdom comes your way in some tasty, sweet baked treat. For me, it's also the day when I head to Bandra.
Yesterday, I was to meet a friend I'd had a falling out with several months ago. This year, in a bid to reconcile, I'd gotten his number (had lost it) and called. I'd said "Hello". He'd laughed in response. And yesterday, we met.
For much of last year, I'd been very hard on myself on account of my temper. Now, it's better - the temper and, more importantly, my acceptance of it. It's there, sure. But that's not the only thing that's there. As long as it co-exists with a capacity to say sorry and mean it, it's okay. This equation with my friend, F, was always tenous. But he's someone I've known for over ten years now. And friends from so long ago become important - like bookmarks you use in a rivetting book; the one you dip into every spare moment you get. Sometimes, one changes so quickly through life that you need these bookmark-pals as reference points. They knew me when...
As soon as I met him, though, I wondered if any of this was important. He looked me over and asked if all the salons in Vashi had shut down. I said "No." "Then the point of you looking like a hairy Yeti is...?" It occured to me that I may have overestimated the role of bookmarks in the larger scheme of things. Heck! Who'd even notice if you stopped reading?
But we had a lovely time. Went to Infinity Mall. And at 5 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon, this mall is succulent! The Food Court had just the right amount of people. Lots of those chrome-type tables and chairs were empty. We got our hazelnut coffees and bickered for a while. Then, for the longest time, we stared at the bright, smooth sky visible through the skylights. Suddenly a sparrow flitted in from somewhere. It almost did a little pirouette and flew out from a crack into the vast, blue yonder. There was so much freedom and sunlight in that moment!
Later, I met up with another pal in Bandra. We went to this really cute little Cinnabon outlet on Carter Road. There was far too much consumption of sugar than is advisable. But, sometimes, one gives in to advertising. We just happened to agree with Cinnabon's tag-line: 'Life needs a little frosting.'
I came back with such a sense of well-being - like my soul had spent a day at the spa. Then a friend called and we chatted.
Now, this friend, E, is a very intelligent chap. He is so cheeky about serious matters that you would, okay I do, sometimes worry. I'm not sure he prays. But if he does, the prayer most probably consists of him calling the Lord an 'A#!@$-hole' and meticulously providing facts to substantiate that observation. E makes us realize that if Adam was anything like our friend here, one could really understand if God chose to forsake our kind.
We were talking about relationships and got around to my fixation with tall men. I am, at a visceral level, very very certain that only tall men can understand me. In fact, only tall men want to. For other men who are not 6-3", I usually seem to be someone they figure out in a few minutes. Then they proceed to label and file me away in the category, "I know her type." Tall men are different. They listen. They understand. And if they don't, they ask. Shorter men only talk. That's been my observation.
As far as E is concerned, my life experiences could very well be a bowl of dirt (which is what he calls most vegetarian dishes anyway...and I'm vegetarian; so his loathsomeness must have pretty much hit the 'Hazard' mark.)
He asked me if I had any guy friends who weren't 6-3". I had plenty. He asked me how they could 'get' me and 'understand' me and 'ask questions' if they were short. I replied that it was easy for them because they were only friends. They were not attracted to me. And when there is no attraction, there is usually more understanding. Hence, the friendship. Hence, no romance. "It's friendship, E...it isn't lover kind of love."
E, very solemnly, remarked, "All relationships are the same feelings at different levels."
And suddenly, at midnight, my thinking took on a few highlights from the day gone by - freedom, sunlight, and little bit of frosting.
Yesterday, I was to meet a friend I'd had a falling out with several months ago. This year, in a bid to reconcile, I'd gotten his number (had lost it) and called. I'd said "Hello". He'd laughed in response. And yesterday, we met.
For much of last year, I'd been very hard on myself on account of my temper. Now, it's better - the temper and, more importantly, my acceptance of it. It's there, sure. But that's not the only thing that's there. As long as it co-exists with a capacity to say sorry and mean it, it's okay. This equation with my friend, F, was always tenous. But he's someone I've known for over ten years now. And friends from so long ago become important - like bookmarks you use in a rivetting book; the one you dip into every spare moment you get. Sometimes, one changes so quickly through life that you need these bookmark-pals as reference points. They knew me when...
As soon as I met him, though, I wondered if any of this was important. He looked me over and asked if all the salons in Vashi had shut down. I said "No." "Then the point of you looking like a hairy Yeti is...?" It occured to me that I may have overestimated the role of bookmarks in the larger scheme of things. Heck! Who'd even notice if you stopped reading?
But we had a lovely time. Went to Infinity Mall. And at 5 o'clock on a Thursday afternoon, this mall is succulent! The Food Court had just the right amount of people. Lots of those chrome-type tables and chairs were empty. We got our hazelnut coffees and bickered for a while. Then, for the longest time, we stared at the bright, smooth sky visible through the skylights. Suddenly a sparrow flitted in from somewhere. It almost did a little pirouette and flew out from a crack into the vast, blue yonder. There was so much freedom and sunlight in that moment!
Later, I met up with another pal in Bandra. We went to this really cute little Cinnabon outlet on Carter Road. There was far too much consumption of sugar than is advisable. But, sometimes, one gives in to advertising. We just happened to agree with Cinnabon's tag-line: 'Life needs a little frosting.'
I came back with such a sense of well-being - like my soul had spent a day at the spa. Then a friend called and we chatted.
Now, this friend, E, is a very intelligent chap. He is so cheeky about serious matters that you would, okay I do, sometimes worry. I'm not sure he prays. But if he does, the prayer most probably consists of him calling the Lord an 'A#!@$-hole' and meticulously providing facts to substantiate that observation. E makes us realize that if Adam was anything like our friend here, one could really understand if God chose to forsake our kind.
We were talking about relationships and got around to my fixation with tall men. I am, at a visceral level, very very certain that only tall men can understand me. In fact, only tall men want to. For other men who are not 6-3", I usually seem to be someone they figure out in a few minutes. Then they proceed to label and file me away in the category, "I know her type." Tall men are different. They listen. They understand. And if they don't, they ask. Shorter men only talk. That's been my observation.
As far as E is concerned, my life experiences could very well be a bowl of dirt (which is what he calls most vegetarian dishes anyway...and I'm vegetarian; so his loathsomeness must have pretty much hit the 'Hazard' mark.)
He asked me if I had any guy friends who weren't 6-3". I had plenty. He asked me how they could 'get' me and 'understand' me and 'ask questions' if they were short. I replied that it was easy for them because they were only friends. They were not attracted to me. And when there is no attraction, there is usually more understanding. Hence, the friendship. Hence, no romance. "It's friendship, E...it isn't lover kind of love."
E, very solemnly, remarked, "All relationships are the same feelings at different levels."
And suddenly, at midnight, my thinking took on a few highlights from the day gone by - freedom, sunlight, and little bit of frosting.
Comments
However, sad to point out that getting angry and then saying sorry doesn't quite make up for it. It just doesn't. You cannot break a moment, then try to superglue it to old glory a minute later. But patience works, and people change. And everyone who has a temper issue can patiently work on them selves and genuinely change to be a calmer influence around them. In that change the bitterness of being yelled at just dissolves, and all moments somehow become part of a beautiful, happy experience! (my 2 cents, anyway!)
If on the other hand, genuine appology is followed by genuine whining about how hard we try, but we can't, just can't keep our temper when it comes to it.
Then, I am sure, a broken communication is all the change I can see...
*firstly because it is a difficult conversation to have with hypothetical examples; and secondly because people going, "yay Mukta" would hardly help in a healthy discussion...
You mentioned that temper is followed by whining. It isn't whining. It is regret. (Sometimes it could be whining, though...but even that leads to something more substantive later on.)
You dissipate anger when you forgive it. You forgive its existence, you forgive its expression. And a person who can't forgive is only looking for an apology to satiate the ego, right? What good is that?
And finally...what's wrong with yay mukta? :-D Okay, here goes...'Yay Anonymous!' he he he!
However, if (and only if) the short tempered person finally gets over their habit, there can still be some communication.
The problem with "Yays!" in general is that it becomes a black and white discussion, not very useful. I could be wrong, but that is what I think anyway.
Peace and Out!
Been long I spoke yeah .. Things are fine here .. Hows it going with you?