I feel like cleaning house again. Not the typical dusting and vacuuming type of cleaning house, but more the “throwing out baggage” type of cleaning house.
Perhaps it has to do with my New Year’s resolution — the resolution in which I let bygones be bygones and move beyond my sordid past. As I’ve stated previously, I am tired of hanging onto those little trespasses we all encounter in our lives. Forgiving, or letting go of those things that cannot be forgiven.
I’m tired of being angry. Mostly, when I feel anger it is because I feel betrayed. The second biggest reason for being angry is when I feel that I’ve been disrespected. Sometimes these are the same thing, I’m not 100% certain.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking about some event (or series of events) that happened in the past and my mind gets locked into a feedback loop where the feeling of anger continues to grow until I feel like I’m about to burst. Then it simmers back down until whatever sparked the anger in the first place comes back to the forefront of my thinking.
Lately, however, I am too tired to be angry. That doesn’t completely prevent the anger from rising up — I just feel a touch of ennui to go with the anger, as if I am angry but don’t really care that I’m angry.
So I want to clean house. I might use my resolution to start throwing away physical reminders of the memories that make me angry; the pictures, the references, the objects tied to those moments.
I’ve done it before, but its never easy. I just have to remind myself that I can’t think of one thing I’ve missed of those things I’ve thrown out in past cleanings. I don’t even really recall what it was that I gave or threw away, so all it was doing was giving a reminder to the festering anger of my past.
I don’t want Rowan to see this type of useless anger in her life.
Today was a day of syllabic experimentation for Rowan. She generally has focused on one syllable at a time, repeating it in a constant tone of voice until she is satisfied with it before moving to another. She mixed up both the syllables and the tonal quality today, although she reverted back to her “dadadadada” near the end of the evening.
She has a cute way of puffing out her lower lip like a bulldog. I can hardly help from laughing when she does it, although she maintains a serious look in spite of my laughter.
I want to be left alone. Interaction seems artificial lately, as if a great number of people say a great number of things that they don’t mean to a great number of other people who respond likewise, all for the sake of socialization.
If I had my way, I’d sit at the tables overlooking the lagoon at the hotel we stayed at a few years back in Hawaii. I’d sit at the table, watch the fish and the tortoise swimming, drinking mai tais. I wouldn’t read, I wouldn’t think, I wouldn’t talk except to order a new round (and this can be solved with gestures and a short explanation to the waitress), but not frequent enough to get drunk; just that warm fuzzy feeling. I would watch the sun go down and listen to the waves break across the reef and I wouldn’t think of anything profound at all. Most of all, I wouldn’t talk.
I wouldn’t even write.
I would just sip and watch the world go by.
It occurs to me as I write that all of these issues seem to stem from the feeling that I need a break from the normal routine. A few days here and there would help, I think, with this weary feeling I have. Maybe I’ll start tomorrow, at least in part.
2 Comments
You are a good father to consider such things. My own father was often angry while I was growing up. To this day I have a hard time handling angry people. It got easier once I realized that they were in “fight or flight” mode. The anger was much easier to address when I saw it for what it was: hurt or fear … some kind of survival instinct flare-up. Good luck to you in facing this. Seems like many people don’t have the courage to do that.
I seem to be mirroring you in a lack of drive to communicate. But I did want to say I understand the distancing, for what it’s worth.
And wish you and your family a warm and meaningful holiday.
Thanks Rena.
I grew up in a male-angry household. My grandfather, when he wasn’t distant, was angry. My father, when he wasn’t distant, was angry.
It is difficult not to be angry when life throws you frustrations — it is what I was taught.
You and I mirror each other a lot these days; which is strange for the fact that we don’t know each other all that well. Yet, we are sharing some of the same thoughts and attitudes. I find it refreshing.
May your family have a safe and happy holiday season yourselves. Cheers.