You know those times when you're sincerely planning on fixing shit up, and then someone scorns at you for not having fixed shit up? I hope you know the feeling. In case you don't, you feel like dousing all your plans in 100% alcohol and lighting shit up. Trouble? 100% alcohol is hard to find.
Okay, that got too science-ish. Here's an easier one.
You fight with your mom. It gets ugly, you decide to never talk to her again, and pray that your mom in your next life be someone else (if you're 4 years old). Then you plan to go, say sorry, give the old woman a hug, make amends, etc, etc. But moments before you apologize, mom scolds you for some goodness-forsaken reason. And you go like "Fuck it! I'm better off as a frog in my next life."
No, I didn't fight with mom. I do feel like the proverbial princely frog though. Wait, how does one stray, and might I say, slightly scandalous piece of writing come into public attention when there are much better things out there to click on? What is as it is disconcerting is how active people are in front of their computer screens. Imagine if they were so active about their health. Trains would be much easier means of transport.
Anyway, about apologies, I'm thankful that I've never shied away from the word "sorry". And what I write now, I wish it were an apology letter to someone whom I've come to admire a lot, perhaps more than I should. Only that this is no apology letter. Instead, I'm going to talk about situations where push comes to shove.
When push comes to shove, Punch. Oh, let me correct myself. When push comes to shove, punch and then RUN. LIKE. A. BITCH. Mind you, that's plain bad advice right there. I'd rather suggest something that one of my new friends would suggest, and mind you, this chap's smart, even if he doesn't seem so(yes, I'm going to get punched soon). He'd say "If push comes to shove, just walk away from the place." And what this fellow says, works. Always. Maybe you could trip a bum bloke or two on your way out, but yeah, walk away man. Walking away brings me to something called "Letting go".
Yes, that's a troublesome, and many a times, troubling topic. The deal with letting go is simple. You just don't want to, at least your initial instinct doesn't want to. That though is thanks to the faux-fighting spirit that many of us come endowed with. One never wants to quit, never wants to walk out on what seems like a battle worth winning(every battle feels that way, I suppose.) Yeah, that's about all the wisdom for one evening. Yeah, this overdose of smarts comes along when you wear purple shoes. Moral of the story? Don't wear purple shoes.
If you manage to let go, you get inner peace. That thing that Master Shifu keeps uttering in Kung Fu Panda, but never manages to attain. And the fat panda? He bobs and bounces about, getting his tenders stuck between pokey things, and walks away with all the Kung-Fu swag, leaving his surroundings in the wake of his fart. How?
"Peaceful is a man who can live with himself.", says err... what's that monk's name?? Oh yeah! Thích Nhất Hạnh. That's his name. Don't ask me how you pronounce it. For
a) I don't know how to,
b) It doesn't matter, because he never uttered that phrase in the first place.
But yeah, keeping your shit together when it's thundering down under is some skill! I've met a few rare specimens who have it, this skill. Boy are they cool! They probably know the whole mystical letting-go routine. Maybe I should take classes from them. Or maybe, I should say Skadoosh and buzz off. So.... Skadoosh.
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