Long ago is a distant country
I'm thinking much these days - obsessing, really - on the nature of disagreements, feuds, and grudges. A quote I like a great deal is "Fornication? But that was long ago and in another country, and besides, the wench is dead." -The Jew of Malta (Marlowe, 1633) Being me, though, I have it zipped into memory, compressed if you will, in the idea that the PAST is a distant country and the person I was then is gone - not the person I am now. For my experience, this is a truth. What happened in the past should stay in the past, past offenses should not be dragged out like preserved corpses to be displayed as justification of present atrocities.
However, I'm not normal. I don't *like* emotional upsets and I'm really bad at carrying grudges. I prefer to confront people and clear the air and then put what happened behind me. Can only do that when the other person cooperates, though. Only possible when there's closure.
Grudges are like a mouse that has died in the wall - it lingers like a bad smell, corrupting the air, spoiling the taste of everything, sickening everyone in range. If I can't get closure with the person, then I close them out of my life. I need closure, one way or another. With some people, though, I know that they are still there, spreading their poison among our shared kin. Sharpening their knives, holding their anger at my perceived crimes against their person close to keep them warm. They are never at fault and my insistence that they take responsibility for their own failings - as I take responsibility for mine - irritates the hell out of them. They don't understand why I don't grovel at their feet, accepting the truth that drops like pearls from their lips.
Yeah - okay, maybe I do hold grudges. A few. I resent that I cannot get these people to stop sniping and talk rationally about what's bugging them and that resentment festers. The problem at the moment is that the new wound is festering around my baby sister and I am afraid that it will lead to a permanent fissure because ... In this instance, she was entirely in the wrong. She accepted a tattling report and didn't check the facts, she didn't even have the courage to come find out herself what was happening, instead she passed the tattling report on to our mother (I do not know for a fact, but while I know that the initial bit of tattling was exaggerated and essentially erroneous, I suspect that the second was painted even more virulently) and she sent our mother to yell at everyone who offended her.
And Mobile phones should be banned as the work of the devil!
However, I'm not normal. I don't *like* emotional upsets and I'm really bad at carrying grudges. I prefer to confront people and clear the air and then put what happened behind me. Can only do that when the other person cooperates, though. Only possible when there's closure.
Grudges are like a mouse that has died in the wall - it lingers like a bad smell, corrupting the air, spoiling the taste of everything, sickening everyone in range. If I can't get closure with the person, then I close them out of my life. I need closure, one way or another. With some people, though, I know that they are still there, spreading their poison among our shared kin. Sharpening their knives, holding their anger at my perceived crimes against their person close to keep them warm. They are never at fault and my insistence that they take responsibility for their own failings - as I take responsibility for mine - irritates the hell out of them. They don't understand why I don't grovel at their feet, accepting the truth that drops like pearls from their lips.
Yeah - okay, maybe I do hold grudges. A few. I resent that I cannot get these people to stop sniping and talk rationally about what's bugging them and that resentment festers. The problem at the moment is that the new wound is festering around my baby sister and I am afraid that it will lead to a permanent fissure because ... In this instance, she was entirely in the wrong. She accepted a tattling report and didn't check the facts, she didn't even have the courage to come find out herself what was happening, instead she passed the tattling report on to our mother (I do not know for a fact, but while I know that the initial bit of tattling was exaggerated and essentially erroneous, I suspect that the second was painted even more virulently) and she sent our mother to yell at everyone who offended her.
And Mobile phones should be banned as the work of the devil!