I feel a rant coming on. I’m tired. I’m frustrated. Outside my window the thunder is crashing and the lightning is flashing. The storm is an audible and visible manifestation of what is going on in my heart and mind–I feel tempestuous.
I can’t stand it when people twist my words. I hate it even more when they will not give me a chance to explain what I meant. Why do people do this? Jumping to conclusions and then not giving a person a chance to re-word, re-phrase, re-illustrate, re-state, or even “re-spond” seems unfair. Before I even knew there was a battle, the lines were drawn and the firing had commenced. What I thought was a philosophical discussion became an angry and accusatory argument. How did it happen?
First, I think things like this are more likely to happen when people are tired and/or stressed. Tired people are more likely to take offense where none is meant. Stress causes tension. I understand that. Just give me a chance to explain what I meant!
Secondly, there’s the possibility that it had little or nothing to do with me. Bad moods come to most of us from time to time. We can be spoiling for a fight without even being aware of it. Stuff happens. I get it. We can also be upset with one person and take it out on another. It’s unfortunate, but it happens–it’s part of life.
It’s the third possibility that really worries me. I think that sometimes when this happens it’s a sign that there was already a problem–a chip on the shoulder, an old wound that wasn’t healed. Unaware, I dislodged the chip, or bumped the wound. Yikes! I still think the best thing to do is talk it out; wounds don’t heal and chips get right back up on the shoulder if we don’t deal with the real issue.
In the end, I have to admit that I do not know which, if any, of these is true. It could have happened for a combination of reasons. Or maybe it was just in the atmosphere today–tension building toward release, kind of like the thunderstorm raging outside my window.
In any case, it’s over and done. I’ve had my rant and thought things through. It’s spring. Thunderstorms are common. I could choose to let the storm continue to rage. I could probably even whip up a tornado if I tried, but that would be destructive–to me and to everyone around. Better just to forgive, to let it pass, to soak in the gentle rain that follows the storm and let it refresh my soul–to wait. If I allow the storm pass, surely the sun will be back tomorrow. That sounds good, very good.