Waking from a bad dream

Tonight, I'm going to try to be terse. Anyone who reads this blog will know that this is something I'm not good at.

I am sorry. I let myself get caught up in self-righteous indignation. I have called others stupid.

It is I who has been stupid. Even if I've made one salient point in the last week of posts, it doesn't matter. I have been thinking and writing from a place of fear, and when fear takes hold, anger and bitterness grow quite easily. I can see it in others, but it takes longer to see it in myself.

I had said I was sad that this political season has turned into the same old bitter partisan politics. So, what do I do when I see that happen? I throw out my own principles and join the fray. Does that make any sense? No.

I have a desire to delete all the posts I've written that have anything to do with politics. I feel ashamed of how I let myself become intoxicated with anger. No wonder I have had a headache.

I kiddingly asked for an intervention to make me stop writing this stuff. Well, I got one, but it came in the form of a movie, "Gangs of New York."

New York City, circa 1862, was a place of intense corruption and violence. It was not that long ago. At some point while I was watching, it suddenly popped into my mind that the political parties of today are no better than gangs. This may not be literally true, but it made me think, "I want no part of it."

I will vote come November, don't get me wrong. But, I'm getting off the soapbox and getting back to whatever it was I used to write and think about.

I've got lace to knit and bird feeders to fill up. The leaves are starting to turn.

And I know that the people who scare me are scared themselves. Maybe we are not as different as we think we are.

Image note: Shakyamuni Buddha, reminding me that I have been living in the realm of differences, instead of the one of connectedness.