It is extraordinarily difficult for me to "loose it and let it go" when the thing I need to let go of is a speck on the eyeball of my ego Lucy. I inevitably wind up feeling like I'm arm-wrestling with God...which tells us whose side I'm on...clearly Lucy's, yet trying to make it over to God's.
Here's my even-less-than-petty problem: I have had nearly a half dozen people in the past year or so walk up to me, look me in the eye, and flat-out ask, "How old are you?"
I have no problem with people knowing how old I am, I often say for that matter. But it is the breakdown in social mores (Lucy's on a roll!) that disturbs me. The fact is, that is not only rude, it is disrespectful. Rude I can more easily pull myself away from because that says more about the speaker than the one being spoken to...but disrespectful? That is personal.
And there's the Bingo! nut of the problem. According to me, all relationship problems start when we take any difference personally. I preach that to myself a lot...and to anyone else who'll stand still long enough to hear me.
So far I've been able when asked to just answer the question and consider the source, but a man I barely know walked up to me last Sunday morning and with a crowd of people standing around, asked my age. I have learned to not return rude for rude, or disrespect for disrespect, so I answered (and with a smile). But it sure has kept Lucy on the fret since.
I think the problem has been solved though. Yesterday, I told a friend who said, "It's because you look so young, and you're coming up on 45 years of happy, joyous and free." That may not be the spiritually fit answer, but Lucy is ecstatic...and who's kidding whom? If Lucy's happy, I'm happy. Which gives God a giggle.
Thank you.
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