UNINTENTIONALLY UPSETTING PEOPLE

Unintentionally Upsetting People

My one supreme talent!

When we see life differently from others, what do we do?
We may decide, “Well, I must change”.
But change into what?
“Why can’t I just be ‘normal’?”
What’s normal?
“Should I keep apologising?”
Or should I write a blog which people don’t have to read? 😀

There are two ways of working with our human and spiritual aspects: one is to soothe the mind with incantations, and the other is to provoke it with reason. We should use both to adjust our balance, depending on our karmic trauma; who dares, wins.

Why do we get so upset, either with ourselves, or with other people?
Did we expect things to turn out a certain way, and they didn’t?
Is someone else’s script from a completely different play?
Are we feeling challenged?
Have we just made up our minds, giving rise to a sequence of events?

From “As YOU like it”, by William Shakespeare

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. 

At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. 

And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. 

Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. 

And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. 

The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. 

Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

A frozen mind is stiff.
A melting mind finds its own level.

…oh dear … have I done it again? … 😀

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