I grew in a home that had lots of yelling, and weirdly, hearing screaming and shouting from the other side of the wall STILL makes chills run down my spine. And while I enjoy the low maintenance life of a tenant, but there are days where I wish I could pick my neighbors. Alas, that is not an option. Last night when the screaming started and the doors were slamming, my heart was in my throat, I was a child again, for a moment. Wondering what was going to happen next.
I’m not saying I never raise my voice, but its something that we as a society have come to accept as a “normal” volume of communication. An expression of our disdain when the world isn’t going our way. We have such a shortness of temper, lack of patience, we get out of bed “loaded for bear,” ready to be wronged and willing to fight, even when we’re not right.
Why do we do that?
Where is all this anger coming from?
Why are so many so very, very unhappy?
I don’t know, but I do know what I can do. I can’t change the world, but I can change me. I can be more patient, more kind, more loving, more generous, and more forgiving. I can’t ask anything of the world that I myself am not willing to do.