Never answer when it's private

On the way to work today, the build up got the best of me and I felt explosive. It may have been the song, it might be cyclical, or some other variable I can't take into account.
Nevertheless, I probably got all blotchy and disheveled, a vision if you will, to oncoming traffic.
And then, there's the temper, and by that I mean the experience that brings it into focus and evens things out, as opposed to the other temper which is not going to do shit to make things better or solve any problems.
Upon seeing me, a colleague shared some really terrible personal news, out of any one's control, weeping, heartbreaking news.
I'm schooled, lesson learned, cue the Julian Cope song for the soundtrack of my life, averted.

When all is well and well is all for all

Self importance, being opinionated, both things I avoid. I have opinions, I don't however feel compelled to share them all of the time. And in regards to my role in this place, I would like to think that I manage with humility and, well not grace because of late I'm knocking everything over that I come within ten feet of, but with a sense of true value and station.
There was a train accident in Buenos Aires yesterday. I emailed Gus, just telling him I was checking in, not mentioning the accident, and his response; "I'm fine, and I wasn't on the train." Now Gus, he's opinionated, and he does know me awfully well, even when he's 5,418.9 miles away.

The noises of destruction

One of the first things I noticed in Japan, regarding social interactions, was how high women's voices would get when they were either talking to a male, a child,or especially a male child.
As Jake, or Kobi-Chan as he was known there, was a cherubic nine month old ginger, there was a guaranteed shattering of glass on most every encounter.
We got used to it, and it became somewhat normal.
As I was working in the children's department of the library yesterday, and noticed a similar set of behaviors from the female staff in reference to the parade of cuteness walking in the door, I thought about that child of mine, and realized, that was exactly how I've seen him, through my eyes, in reference to me.
Well, it's time to recognize, that it's not about me. That the best thing I can do, is actually, see him in relationship to himself rather than to me.
I've been selfish, narcissistic in fact. In the process he is going through at this point in his life, the best most insanely sane thing I can do is to acknowledge, about many things, that I've never seen it that way before.

To see another day

Being as smart as I am, why do I let my self live in terror all the doo-da day? It's plain that I understand anxiety,and have expounded on the theory that it is primal, it's a part of our most basic function to stay alive, and it's merely gone a little overboard in some, or most of us.
I've accepted that being in the ridiculous state of worry is as much a part of me, as, well, me.
THIS HAS ALL BEEN ESTABLISHED.
So why then, does it rule me still! I have and will go to any length to lean up against that status quo, even though I don't want to remain in the same place. So, if it's time for a change, does that mean an internal or external, or do I just skim the surface of modification, move again or try a new regime.
I have finally realized that parental behavior sets a standard, and mine at times, has either been so low that it's negligible or set so high no one could ever stand a chance, not even me.

Just whisper

I'm trying to figure out what you do when you get to the point with someone, when every conversation turns into an argument.
I'm going to guess that avoiding them is the best possible strategy , but if that is not entirely an option, then what? I.G.N.O.R.E., or silence, neither of those seem to be conducive to resolution .

It's hard to get back to a place where you don't sample from the reservoir of anger, frustration, recrimination and general anxiety with every encounter. Being a full fledged adult helps, but it's not going to kick in every time. Every once in a while, you will succumb to the internal four year and join the ranks of most families by screaming until your horse, and coming up with amazingly creative and awful names.