Anger

Sometimes I can't stand people. I don't mind being around them but I don't want anything to do with them, if you catch my drift. Today's one of those days. I've been foraging on, doing the next right thing and the next right thing only to find myself slamming the grocery cart into its stall, jumping into the car and slamming the door. I realized I was angry, furious, in a rage. I coud be the author of that Puritan tome: "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God." Only I don't know how I'd cast myself--as the sinner or the angry god.

It built slowly, this anger. It started with me growling at other drivers and even at the Liberty Tax woman in her Statue of Liberty costume by the side of the road. Pretty soon, I was screaming as I drove. I could see my poor dog cocking her head at me curiously out of the corner of my eye. Another scream from me.

That's when I started to wonder about the insomnia I've been experiencing lately. Could it be that all this spirituality, this turning things over to a divine force, this effort I've been exerting to be a better person, is just another sign that I don't love my self? or God? or you? or my poor dog? or anyone at all for that matter?

I don't know. What I do know is that it's time to kick rocks, to metaphorically slash and burn. It would be the day to go to the firing range if there were any way to do that in New York State. Ka-boom!

It's probably no coincidence that I've been engaging with life more in recent times, making new friends, visiting old ones, joining family events. It's too much. It's so much EFFORT to be growing spiritually or whatever you want to call it. I don't want to do it today. Not with people. I want to roll in the grass, sink into deep water, light a fire against the night and sit by it. Alone. By myself.

I DON'T want to go to meetings, teach my classes, dine with friends, answer the phone, or pass the time of day. I don't want to pray. I'm sure this too will pass but, please God, not just yet. I'm sick of folks and I'm ok with that. Roxie