RESENTMENT...OUR PRECIOUS CARGO

Why is it, I wonder, that it seems every time we resist anything, to our ego it has somebody or something else's name on it? And our resistance is usually over some fairly unimportant thing affecting our ego alone. The longer we resist this fairly unimportant thing the more precious it becomes to our ego-victory mind.

This precious cargo never stands up straight and walks in the front door, saying, "My feelings are hurt by the way I interpreted a remark you made." No, it sneaks in the back door, whispering, "S/He is so judgmental...mean-spirited, truth to tell...somebody needs to tell her."

We build our resentment until it finally erupts, either within or without, spewing our rigid, righteous and right answer for him...as in, "The trouble with you is you don’t know a thing about acceptance." Which, by our actions, tells the trouble with us: We don't know a thing about acceptance, and wherever we've slung it, within or without, it is mud landing in our own face.

Our everyday actions prove the truth of the adage [paraphrased here] that the mote we complain of in her eye is nothing compared to the plank we ignore in ours.

Thank You.