I am tired.
I am tired of being doubted, repeatedly enough that it feels like always.
I am tired of micro-aggressions that nick and crackle at my patience and soul.
I am tired of half-truths and secreted things that breed more negativity.
I am tired.
I read a story about Buddha in the last day that was wonderful. He was being abused by an angry man who thought he didn’t have the right to teach. Buddha asked, “If you give me a gift, and I refuse to take it, who does it belong to?” And the angry man said, “I do. I bought it.” And the Buddha said that the anger was like that. If he didn’t accept it unto himself, it simply turned on the giver.
I liked this, because it’s true. But it also means that the anger feeds and increases on itself. And that part wasn’t mentioned. It’s wonderful that the Buddha can let go and not internalize anger and hatred. And it’s definitely something to aspire to.
But it’s not something that most people can do. That’s why the Buddha, Jesus, and others who have preached only love are so special. It’s hard to do.
Because really, anger isn’t inherently bad, any more than sorrow is inherently bad. When they feed, when they don’t have a healthy outlet and become unthinking tangles of so much frustration and deep depression that lash out like a wounded animal when prodded, bad results. Often, things occur that are not even the things the tangle-bearer would have dreamed of intending.
And that more than anything else, makes me so tired.