Hurt feelings can cause emotions to get even more breakable. They do not become softer with use, they become brittle. It doesn’t matter whether the actions or omissions that caused the feelings to be scuffed were intentional or even legitimately hurtful. Hurt feelings are magnetic for more of the same. And the greater the number of real or perceived hurtful behaviors, the more delicate the emotions get. Psychological Catch-22. I’ve been there. It’s painful. It’s even more painful to watch it take place—or think it’s taking place—in someone else, someone you wish could just cast the feelings aside and start over. So, that’s a bothersome thought on my mind this morning. Witnessing someone experience pain that you can’t fix. Not a pleasant situation.
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I managed to drop an unopened bottle of wine onto a granite countertop last night, flooding the counter, the floor beneath it, and the “appliance garage” beneath the wine rack with pricey red wine and a million shards of glass. And when I began to pick up the pieces, I managed to insert a few slivers of glass into my left thumb. My allergy to even the slightest bit of pain kicked it, so I whined a little as I extracted glass from my flesh. And, then, I picked up broken glass for about ten minutes, after which I scooped up pieces of glass for the next ten minutes (times are approximate, estimated by a brain unhappy with its owner). I’m not even sure what I was doing to cause the wine bottle to drop. I doubt I got all the glass up. Or the wine. I suspect I will continue to encounter glass for weeks. And I will smell red wine in places where the odor of red wine is inappropriate. Like the drawer that houses aluminum foil and freezer wrap and such. Oh, well. It will be a memory, augmented by the senses.
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Two meal engagements are on the calendar today. Lunch with a couple of friends to chat about various and sundry things and dinner with a couple, just to re-connect after several months without communications between us. Before lunch (if I move quickly enough…I need to take a shower, shave, take care of a few “to-do” items, etc.), I’ll participate in a “spiritual practices” Zoom meeting. We’ll see about that. I allow myself to get too busy sometimes, but it’s busyness that I enjoy; except when there’s too much to do and not enough motivation to get it all done.
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My brain sometimes gets so scrambled that I cannot decide whether a thought represents a memory or just a wish. For example, I want someone to come visit me…did I already ask them, or is my intention to ask simply sitting idly in my head, awaiting action? Is that a sign of intellectual decline? Or have I allowed too many mundane things to fill up empty spaces in my skull?
It’s not just those scrambled bits and pieces, either. I allow myself to get distracted by matters large and small. Frequently, in fact, I will push aside important matters (filing taxes, paying bills, scheduling medical appointments) in favor of other things that are not necessarily “important” but are so much more appealing and attractive than the stuff that truly should command my attention. I suppose we’re all like that to some extent. But it’s not infrequent that I feel a little like a self-launching ping-pong ball, rushing from one thing to another, but not pausing long enough with any of them to feel like I’ve given it the attention it deserves. Like this morning’s post so far (and, almost certainly, as it moves forward for another paragraph or two); short bounces between a thousand paddles.
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I learned yesterday that the Brubeck Brothers Quartet will play live at Luther College in Decorah, Iowa next April 1. And I want to see them! I think it’s a “sign” that my interest in Decorah, Iowa should not take on immediate importance. Rather, I should wait for a while; take it slow. But I have put the concert on my calendar already, so the plan to see Decorah is in motion. Just not immediately. The way I learned about the concert date will be fodder for another blog post one day, along with other elements surrounding that happy accident. Well, it wasn’t an accident, but it was happy. More later. One day.
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I have so many things on my “to-do” list. Or things I keep forgetting to add to my to-do list. Like getting my eyes checked and getting new glasses. Like getting painful little bump removed from my left foot (perhaps the third time removing the same painful little bump will be a charm). Like discarding my dead electric smoker. Like power-washing my deck and the front of my house. Like cleaning out my garage. Like…on and on and on. First, though, I think I’ll take a shower. Prepare to face the world head-on.
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One day soon, I’ll get back to writing something that matters and makes sense. For now, I’m just acting like my fingers are printer ink-heads; they need to be used, whether anything of consequence flows from them or not.
