What we’re really thinking.

I have five blog posts in my queue, little notes about things I’d like to think more about later.  I’ve looked at them over and over again and keep thinking, “Ugh. Boring.”  You see, they’re on important topics like reconciliation, genocide, dialoguing with people who live not only on the other end of the political spectrum but (some days) in an alternative ethical universe.  And who cares?  Honestly, today, I don’t.  I’m worried more about filters.  Conversational ones.  Because, really, I’ve got a bit of a problem lately.  And talking about genocide, while a noble and necessary task, isn’t going to change the fact that on most days lately, I’m harboring a bit of hate in my heart for just the regular ol’ people I’ve got to deal with. And until I deal with that somehow, I don’t think I’ve got much righteous ground to stand on.  In fact, I don’t think I can understand widespread hatred very well at all without figuring out where such overt violence finds its source.

I’ve confessed this to a couple of friends already, but I’m going to step out on a ledge and lob it out into the open air of the world wide web.  I am full of some pretty mean thoughts.  These thoughts come into my head and I don’t even know where they come from.  It’s like they were waiting, lurking, holding out for just the right wrong moment to *bam* snap through my brain cells into that space over my tongue, banging to get out.  They have sounded like this, lately:

“What the hell do you know?  I’m the one with the degree here.”

“Please, don’t sit by me.  I don’t want to talk to you. Please, please, please don’t force me to be courteous.  I don’t wanna pretend like I care.”

“Oh my God, just shut up already! No one cares what you have to say about [fill in topic here].”

“If only you knew what I am thinking right now, you’d realize how stupid you sound.”

Okay.  You probably don’t need to hear more – there’s obviously a theme.  Somehow, during the last few weeks, I’ve somewhere picked up the idea that I know better than other people what is right, good, reasonable, smart, interesting, important, meaningful.  I’ve decided that other people are wasting my time with their wandering around out loud, their figuring out, their trying to fit into a group, their mistakes, their slips, their opinions I don’t understand or agree with.  In other words, I’ve turned into a jerk.  A meanie who thinks, basically, that other people are dumb and I’m not.  That other people aren’t worth quite as much as I am.  I’ve caught the pride virus.


Some back story.  Earlier this year, I made a personal promise to take definite, concrete, and intentional steps away from gossip.  I’m not claiming I’ve succeeded, but it’s on my daily “remind yourself to be a better human being” list.  I’m trying.  It means stepping back or away from conversations other people start that include bad-mouthing colleagues and friends.  It has meant limiting my exposure to certain classmates. It means admitting when I find myself gossiping.  It means a lot more prayer than I’d like to admit.  However, I’ve got to say, the no-gossip rule (well, the less-gossip rule, anyhow) has caused my commentary to go… underground.  It’s staying in my head.  Where it’s getting loud and proud.  Maybe this is the first step toward phasing out bad thoughts about other people that would otherwise have come out with friends.  Maybe those meannesses are rattling around, used to having their daily feed, getting a bit hungry.  I seem to remember Jesus telling some story about clearing a house of one demon only to have seven more move into the renovated space.  So, consider this post one of my outer-perimeter mental home security systems.  I’m shining some light on those demons in my head.  Maybe they’ll shrivel up a little bit and start to waste away.


1 Comment »

  1. Nancy Day-Achauer Said:

    Wow, I could have written this! I’m so glad people can’t read my mind.

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