brainwane: My smiling face, in front of a wall and a brown poster. (Default)
[personal profile] brainwane
The constant low-level radiation of mailing list fracas led me to idly fantasize this morning of sending a beseeching plaintive-yet-rousing post to one of them: Do you think there is no darkness in my heart? Do you think I do not also have these impulses to bray, to taunt, to cut down, to lash out with terrible anger, to poison all joy present and future? But I don't, because I am a grown-up. Part of maturity is doing the constructive thing instead of the destructive thing, pausing and sighing and stifling the childish impatient id. I didn't do it, and I won't. It wouldn't do any good.

Leonard was about to head off to brunch, and I knew I'd feel better if I also went outside, to ensure that I left the flat at least once today. Bleh, I don't wanna, inertia said, but I reminded it that I'd be happier if I did. And along the way I should drop off that neglected dry-cleaning. Bleh, I don't wanna, procrastination said, but I mentally replied that if I didn't do this errand, it wouldn't magically get done.

Holy crap! I viscerally felt the proper relationship between the bratty kid inside me and the adult I am. I can listen to the kid, but it also listens to me. I knew that those urges only sometimes represented a neglected inner child, but now I have another useful analogy that will help me manage them properly: mailing list flamers. The voices of perfectionism, anxiety, impatience, cruelty, and laziness are just frequent posters on sumana-l. I'm not going to killfile any of them, just try to skim, roll my eyes, and move on.

I walked Leonard to brunch. The dry cleaning place was closed, so I'll try again tomorrow. I came inside just long enough to drop the bag and grab tea and my book: The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson. I sat outside on my apartment building's stoop and read for a while. My neighbors came and went and I chatted with them. A light rain started, stopped, started, and stopped again. I came back inside to write this.

Date: 2013-08-19 10:19 pm (UTC)
ivy: Two strands of ivy against a red wall (Default)
From: [personal profile] ivy
I think plaintive-yet-rousing works best if a) they already respect you and see you as a model to aspire to, and b) it's a private message. Best yet if it ends with some kind of praise for things they do well or vote of confidence in them. (I have occasionally succumbed to the aspirational desire.)

Leaving the house is super critical for my happiness too. Working from home, I find that it matters out of all proportion to what I'd expect, so I have just kind of accepted that as How I Work. Too bad we're not neighbors (or don't have teleporters); I'd totally go out to lunch with you if we were.

Date: 2013-08-20 07:05 pm (UTC)
chevdelachar: (Default)
From: [personal profile] chevdelachar
"Do you think there is no darkness in my heart? Do you think I do not also have these impulses to bray, to taunt, to cut down, to lash out with terrible anger, to poison all joy present and future? But I don't, because I am a grown-up. Part of maturity is doing the constructive thing instead of the destructive thing, pausing and sighing and stifling the childish impatient id."

This is just really lyrical and lovely.

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