My gruntlement levels are plummeting faster than the markets, but yet, my promised screeds are nowhere to be found. What gives?
To answer that in Jules terms… I’m trying real hard to be mature about this. My life’s pretty darned amazing despite the accumulated slings and arrows of peevish fortune. I mean, I don’t want to get all whiny and “Occupy Blog of the Nightfly” about it. And above all, I’m trying to be mindful of Jesus’ words, that it is not what comes from outside of a man that makes him unclean – it is from the heart of man that you get all sorts of wickedness in word and deed.
The upshot is that the common run of life’s nusiances pelting about my ears right about now is less of a problem than my possible reactions. My choices are:
- MURDEROUS RAGE
- What you are currently reading
So I tread carefully, carefully. I try to think before spraying acid like a carotid-slashed Alien. I remind myself that life is not to be taken personally. And thus far, I’ve actually gotten to the point where another one of those “brief upshot” lists looks like a good idea. (Is “brief upshot” a redundancy? Hm…) I’ve been able to sort the various events of the past couple of weeks into three rough-edged categories:
- Circumstance: stuff that happens to me
- (re) Action: stuff I did my ownself
- Consequence: stuff done in reaction to my own idiocy
This could be refined, of course. My first insight was a 2×2 grid, a Punnet Square of Peevishness – covering whether a thing A- is or is not helpful; B- is or is not my own doing. Two drawbacks: first, a dearth of items in the “helpful/my own doing” box; second, the open question of what came first, my chickenshit deeds or the egg on my face.
That’s when the insight came along: that lack of any positive actions or reactions is what’s really eating at me lately. I’m really falling down on the job of being human. It’s to the point where I paralyze myself through my self-disdain, and then disdain myself further for my lack of motivation. Sometime in the past month I joined the cast of Daria without meaning to.
So I think this isn’t really slacking; I’m just spinning my wheels in the sand. Step one is to throw that much out there, and see whether or not it catches something solid. Then I can get pulled back up onto the road.