Anger Management…

Take two Bach cello suites…and call me in the morning.

bachoff

Over in the Snark Tank, I wrote about my determination to continue making a Ridiculouswoman of myself in public (you might have to scroll down a bit for that entry, because I have some new Snark going up over there, in the nature of the further adventures of things about suburban living that can knock me off the path, if I don’t watch out. It’s pretty snarky. Which it is why it is over there, not here.)

Meaning I intended to express joy through music, or dancing or goofing around, whenever I felt like it, even if other people thought it was ridiculous.

Unfortunately, instead, I had a few episodes of making myself ridiculous for the wrong reason – anger.

It is not possible to live with love and laughter if you allow anger to consume your joy.

I won’t go into detail, because the details involve politics (exhausting) but suffice it to say I was very ashamed of myself, for giving in to rage, publicly.

It’s been burbling up off and on since the Fatherless Day slump, particularly when I’m driving (surprise. Have you had to endure suburban driving when you are trying to catch a train, or get your kid to work on time? OK, so you know what I mean.)

But it isn’t good for me or for our daughter.

So I look to the radio (and the CD player) from whence cometh my help.

Specifically in the form of the sublime music. There is no such thing as hearing the Bach Cello Suite No. 1 too many times. I could survive on a desert island if that was the ONLY piece of music I was allowed to have.

But thanks to Mike’s wonderful CD collection, and to WFMT, Chicago’s exceptional classical music station, I have all the Bach cello suites, most of the cantatas, and right when I was about to lose it again the other night, an exceptionally lovely (and they are all lovely) Palestrina motet on the radio.

Aaaaaahhhh.

Life is too short to spend another nanosecond of it expressing anger. I’m here to try to convey lessons I’ve learned from Mike’s passing, and laughs I could generate or share for the time I have left.

Only God knows the number of our days, so make each one a good one, if you possibly can. Nobody ever changed their mind because someone got really pissed off at them. Quite the opposite. Anger tends to make people dig in.

So I’m working on it. I’m getting better and finding and sharing the love, and trying to find the funny again.

Stay tuned. I’m sure to do something ridiculous (in a joyful way, I hope!) sooner or later.

Until then, I remain,

Your loyal, devoted, breathing deeply,

Ridiculouswoman

Author: Ridiculouswoman

When my husband entered hospice I finally learned that love, gratitude and laughter are what matter. All the rest is noise.

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