(The legendary characteristics of an ill-tempered elderly male are well-known to me—traits and behaviors that I exhibited a few weeks ago. Not one of my proudest moments. Perhaps these reflections might be helpful….)
Given my life circumstances in this era of grumpy political leaders, crabbiness might seem to have some legitimacy. Like you, I live in testy times, so it seems fair to join in the general ethos–irritable reactions to much of what occurs in and around me.
It’s possible that my crankiness comes when I’ve been pushed to the limits of my patience, forbearance, kindness or caring. Or how about this? My irritability might be helpful or necessary—perhaps others can learn to balance their starry-eyed approach to life with a bit of realistic dourness?
(You can see that my self-justification isn’t working, right? Just checking….)
When I’m grouchy, I hope to keep it hidden. But it always sneaks up into my soul—from some dark corner of my spirit—and forces its way into an emotional cavern that’s been emptied of self-worth. And there it lies, quietly subdued—waiting for just the right moment to spew forth as emotional lava from this old man’s volcanic viewpoint.
When I’m really steaming and fuming in full-blown cantankerousness, it’s just plain destructive. The spirit of the moment, relationships, other’s emotions—all are emptied of their joy because of my grumpiness. The room can go silent as others scramble to redeem the moody moment that I alone have created.
I don’t know about you, but grumpiness is hard to repent of, or to redeem. When damage has been done, my spoken confession and repentance are now necessary. That’s hard to do—how do I drain the bile from my soul and replace it with the love that, down deep, I want to be present?
My contrition can help repair the hurt I have caused, and resettle my spirit back into its more-gracious setting: Grateful Old Bob….
That seems a lot more justifiable, hmmm?
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