“The wish to undo an evil that was done to you in the past is the very model of senseless obsession. If you cannot abandon it, you will be trapped in the sterile self-defeat of rage without revenge, pain without relief.” – Susan Neiman, Evil in Modern Thought
I know that long-standing rage is unhealthy, but I do wish I could hold onto mine a little longer sometimes. When someone does me wrong, I think, YOU wait. You’ll need something from me eventually and I won’t help you.
But then of course, by the time my big opportunity comes around, I forget to be angry, and the other party gets second chance to bite me on the ass before I’ve gotten my turn on the roundabout.
Mmm. Ex texts this morning. . .
When I was a kid, I used to think, “I’ll get you all, just you wait,” when faced with bullies and taunters against whom I had no defense. I would think, “One day, you’ll see… one day.” It’s a wonder I didn’t turn into a killer or a mercenary or a politician.
But what I turned into was a writer! Ha ha! Thought vengeance would be mine through that, but what happened was not vengeance. A good writer doesn’t use the pen to get even. A good writer uses the pen to express the unity of human being.
As it turns out, that has been my revenge.
There are all kind of writers. All kinds.
You’re absolutely right, Tetman. Maybe my forgetfulness is a byproduct of outgrowing the need to get even.
Or I could be growing amiably senile. Is it too early for that?
Anger is a heavy burden to carry. There was someone in my life once whom I wanted to kill, I was so mad at her. I swore that if I ever saw her again, I’d cold-cock her. But fifteen months later, when our paths again crossed, I was civil (I was also a little tipsy).
Often I go to comment or reply on a blog when I have only a few minutes available. I didn’t completely respond to your comment because of that. And sometimes I just don’t know what to say, so I might not respond at all. And sometimes I resist appearing as though I’m trying to get the last word in.
But no, I don’t think you’re growing senile. We get older and we get more careful about the battles we choose to fight.
You can do no wrong with me, I’m an easygoing sort of friend.
No wrong, no last word, nothing but interest in your thought and writing man.
Thank you, Chris, and you, too, Averil. You are too kind. Don’t cut me too much slack. I’m a selfish and grasping man whose head easily gets all swolled up.