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Tuesday, October 03, 2006

attack of the killer dust mite

My anger astounds me sometimes. It isn't that it is so out of proportion with anyone else's anger, or that it causes major issues to those surrounding me, but the three year-old tantrum thrower living in my brain is a terror for me to behold in the mirror of self-examination.

The little things do it. I can be faced with an enormous loss and skip the anger part of grief. I can go through trials with friends and loved ones, and come out with forgiveness. I may splutter for a moment, but I always end up turning my eyes onto what the other side of the coin shows. But a tiny issue, like the fact that I recorded a show on the dvr which I might not get to watch for a week unless I stay up until 3 AM, gets to me. Or just ask me what's for dinner right after three other people asked me within your earshot, and watch the room fill with thunderclouds. Yeah, silly things like that. Then again, maybe they are not so small at all.

Perhaps what is at the root of all these small things is the perception that no one ever puts me first. My continual self-prescribed servitude makes way for the martyr complex as I suddenly get sick of always looking out for everyone else when they aren't looking out for me. I let myself momentarily swell with how selfless I am in the face of constant selfishness. But then again, if I were really so selfless, I wouldn't be getting angry. The truth is, I really must constantly be thinking about myself and how I am setting aside my own desires; I must be hoarding the (sometimes scant) evidence of continual lack of notice for such yielding; I must be striving to make myself appear to be more noble and giving, when really, deep down, I only care about me, thus my anger is really directed at me.

It ain't so pretty when you identify the beam in your eye, is it?


  • Are you old enough and have you been around Christianity long enough to remember Isaac Air Freight? They were a Christian comedy group. They had the funniest bit about the speck and the log. Your last line reminded me of that. So, although, I am sure it was not your purpose in this particular post, it cheered me by giving me a reason to remember something funny!

    By Blogger Mary-LUE, at 9:21 PM  

  • I actually do remember them now that you mention it. I am trying to dig deeper to unearth the routines I have heard...

    I googled it. I was remembering Prodigal Joe just as it popped up. Yes, I do remember it well, though it had completely slipped my mind until you brought it up. I wonder whatever happened to that tape.....

    By Blogger atypical, at 11:23 PM  

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