Contention is a window that simply needs cleaning. Our ideas of how the world ought to behave based upon our personal beliefs are baloney. There will never be a way to make every single human happy at the same time. At least not in the lifetime I’m writing to you presently. (God flexing future muscles well, our peaceful planetary generations to come may look back on this archive with odd humor, assuming extraterrestrials haven’t saved us from ourselves through obliteration, sucked us within their own martianness, or we encountered an untimely asteroid belting pelting). Belligerent opposition with others is a lot of silly effort wasted. What we can utilize is seeking definition from our sore spots. Arguing ourselves straight involves straining the serpentine loop of staying in the fight to come into the light. When we find our emblazoned ardor rising, it’s the artistry of ceasing the quarrel to channel our core that’s fateful.
Me trying or hoping to make you see things through my eyes, my heart, or desperately wanting your tastebuds to mimic my own is on a spectrum from flirty to idiotic. Either you could agree or you won’t. If I take a step further into thinking I have some master powers and attempt to force you into my point of view, well then, I’m just a downright dummy. So caught in our own rhetoric is a blurry mess of conceit. Unwavering bickering bitterly asserts judgments. Similarly, it’s remaining wrapped outside of oneself in rivalry with another that’s sure self-defeat. I’ve met a surplus of incredible humans in terms of their intellect, skillfulness, or affection. Yet, none of these traits have necessarily brewed a proportional relationship between any of them and myself. In fact, some people who amaze me in one fashion utterly disgust me in other forms. The most frank form of conversation is compassion.
The sooner the better that we recognize our squabbles are strictly evidence of our passions. Allowing the cracking is how we become. Anyone good at poking your hot buttons is providing you a favor. Our undoing’s shower us with knowing our intrinsic convictions. Friction is a nebulous surge. Our bodies turn different colors (red in the face), feel queasy (knots or sensing as if we might vomit), and haggle with our brains (unwarranted noise) to stimulate for an all-out brawl. But, consider instead that every sign of dissension that is speaking is actually a telling of us. Discovering there’s a ladder we may climb from fuzzy or fury to fineness is quite a blessing. However, traversing from fade to clear isn’t usually as pretty as evoking the contrast from the abstract tree art to the garden variety image. Perfecting our pale wasn’t internally situated all neatly and easygoing. Despite this, your disputes are a donation.
Circling is the cliché we aspire to avoid in our mortal dealings. There’s little enjoyment in movements that repeat like a broken record. Around and again, and again, rehashing dialogue to patterns to performance (or lack thereof) is maddening. Socializing to sexting with someone who’s bent on their goal over anything else is a rough ride through the humanness of being. I’d rather comply with boredom than dish into the dirty space of dickering merely owing to us having lips to flap words that end in woeful attitude. Also, it’s funny ~ not funny how many I’ve listened to whom continue to needle their offense about another only to be flaunting the opposite angle of the crazy coin. Mind you, I can’t leave myself out of this targeting. Although, any stout therapist is liable to voice that it’s your exasperation pinnacles that push you toward true healing.
Understanding the forest for the trees and each tree inside the forest is our key. There’s always going to be whole opinions and individual ones too. Not even a solitary stray of any of them have to match your position. Nor should you dare venture there will be another during your existence that’s gonna tow the exact same tune as you do one hundred percent. It’s the queer originality for each of us to penetrate our own debate-nature to uncover our authenticity. As in surmise it straight, no chaser (thrown in playfully for you diehard drinkers, AA heroes of the former ilk, or occasional no-fuss hotshots like moi). You may start or be in the argument and you may abandon it before it breaks you. By learning we don’t need to claim who we are so much as be who we are to shine a shit ton brighter. Tolerant, considerate, cultural adulting is the thing that’s missing. Growing because of our dis-ease is our candid candy treat.
May your controversies cull gorgeous clarity.