You're probably wondering if I am on a search or on a tirade today, blog. Let me assure you, I never know what's going to be the boat that floats to the top of my mind. Y
es, this is a discovery journey, but hey, I may stop off at a diner, see a movie or watch the sunset on any given day. As I progress through my journey, I find that life really is full of surprises. Even the most mundane day is not really mundane. My day could be a musical composition with melodies and harmonies. The morning could dawn with a beautiful Beethoven sonata and by mid afternoon, life might mimic a sound track from Nightmare on Elm Street.
My point here is that even if my day turns into a paradox, it's my choice on how to react. Do I let small bugaboos ruin me or grab each one up, put it in a box and slam on the lid?
I have choices. I actually can make whatever music I want. It's all up to me. Yes, there are outside sources that may poke at my musical composition, but I have the choice to let it interfere with my day or continue to make beautiful music through bedtime.
Bailey impresses upon me the perfect example of the how and why and when of this orchestration of my day. Every morning, Bailey follows a routine. Potty. Breakfast. Nap time. As often happens, he is curled up on the sofa like a big chocolate fur ball… and then… the Fed Ex delivery truck comes driving down the street. Never mind, the calm, serene, closed eyes doggie whose snoring bellows in the quiet as if a cannonball couldn't disturb him. Then a moment later, he jerks awake, nearly falls off the sofa racing to the window to give that Fed Ex driver "what for." Bark bark bark bark bark. His nap is clearly interrupted. But what does he do? A few barks later, he comes for his Good-Boy pat and then almost like he was never interrupted, he returns to his nap position, eyes closed.
Now, there's a piece of music that he writes every day. When I compare his theater to my day. I act somewhat differently. Interruptions often annoy me, even though I consider myself a multi tasker. It takes me longer to return to my peaceful state. The problem with this delay is the message am I sending to my brain? To my friends and family? To co-workers and clients? I hope that my inner annoyance does not shine like a cold, wet rain coat on a sunny day.
Sometimes, I wonder how interruptions affect the decisions I make? Do I make good decisions when I am reeling from annoyance? Can I think straight? Or is my mind in a fog? It's something to dig out as if it was a seed, and deal with it, so it grows into a productive garden, rather than a prickly weed patch.
When I am even slightly annoyed, do I likewise loose patience. If another annoyance pops its ugly head up when I am still dealing with the first one, does that turn into a temper tantrum? Maybe it takes 3 or 4 or 50 annoyances before annoyance morphs into full blow anger.
In such a teeny tiny mental state of mild annoyance, the trail can and as I noticed (from the news and even from people I know) that an itsy-bitsy spark is often all it takes to go from controllable annoyance to outright atomic explosion, violence and acts that you can't take back.
Yes, blog, this thinking snakes around, but finally lands on how easy it is to batter people you love. Unfortunately, small children become the brunt of this pressure cooker. Women are abused by both men and women who they are supposed to be able to trust.
What about adults who simply cannot control themselves? What can I do about people I might know who run the vicious cycle of abuse and apology and more abuse and more apologies? What can anyone do to help those who are the recipient of any kind of abuse? Last question, blog. Is shouting verbal abuse any less harmful than physical abuse? I think there are many sides to that coin.
One tiny annoyance and the way that little annoyance can grow into something ugly makes it a risk.
I plan to make concerts of my day. As far as my journey goes, I am not an abuser, but I know something about those who are abused. All it takes is a small annoyance, a nudge, pester, agitation to turn the wedding march into taps.
Sorry to say goodbye on that sad note, blog. It's BLTs for dinner tonight.
