What separates us from the psychopaths, sociopaths and other human deviations?
What make us “normal” and some other individual an object of fear?
Is it, very simply, the ability to control your emotions in times of stress and turmoil? When your base instinct is to inflict harm but instead you walk away … is that the dividing line?
For example, yesterday a moment of intense and unadulterated rage. So intense, so encompassing and a s aresult of a person whome one is supposed to respect behaving like an uncouth, inconsiderate barbarian – think Atilla on steroids! My immediate thought (honestly- straw that broke the camels back scenario) was over the balcony much like Lady Macbeth and her ever present spot.
Instead my “normalness” won the day and I retired to my office to contemplate my fate over a cup of tea and Van Halen on the ipod.
Can it be that simple – the dichotomy between functional and dysfunctional?
which I’m told means – damn awful day. I had a spring basket brimming with wonderful anecdotes and delicious stories of our touristy trip to Umgeni River Bird Park on Sunday accompanied by a plethora of not bad pics 🙂
Thanks to a stressful work day infected with stupidity, poor service and general lackadaisical malady I am now so brim filled with acidic viperousity I shall spare the world in general from my ugly mouth and instead share some of the 221 images taken (currently weeded to 130 – more culling definitely required.)
Winston Churchill said “By swallowing evil words unsaid, no one has ever harmed his stomach”. Yet, does the human race fully comprehend that power that is wielded by the spoken word? While pondering the merits of merlot versus cabernet sauvignon I chanced to overhear the conversation between a father and his son. Well perhaps conversation is too polite a term for the verbal onslaught that ensued.
With puce face and dark cavernous mouth in perpetual motion, words like “useless” and “embarassment” flew like barbed arrows towards the child striking him with an almost physical intensity. I cannot begin to envisage the justification for this tirade (could there be one?) but when it was directed at a boy of no more than ten it just beggars belief!
What saddened me /angered me and engendered emotions of most unladylike content, was the look of humiliation tinged with fear on this child’s face. Knowingly or unwittingly that father has irrepairably changed the makeup of his son’s psyche, irrepairably altered that sacred firmament of childhood that your parents are the safe haven where you can do no wrong. Without question the parental right to chastise their offspring is not being challenged, it’s part of the bigger picture but it’s the choice of words that has the greatest impact. Do you flex your authoratitive muscles to wound or guide?
“Human conversation is largely an endless attempt to convince others that we are more assertive or clever or generous or successful than they might think if we did not carefully educate them.” –John Ortberg
I’m so blown away on this fine African summer’s afternoon I actually don’t quite know how to begin. Over a hasty cup of coffee tucked in between meetings (should be banned, what a waste of precious time), I came across this article on a girl called Sarah. Be warned it will stop your heart and my mocha chocolate was liberally flavoured with salty tears. Now the thing is, it wasn’t so much the attack as such – as dreadful a thing as that is to say one has almost got used to to violence againt women – fabulous is the human race 😦
What freaked me out was the process – the cold, calculated set up by someone close. The deliberate, evil intention to do harm to this precious being AND the response by so many people to fulfill her supposed desires. What does this say about humanity (some of the locals felt sorry for the attacker!) – where is the compassion, where is the (excuse the pun) humanity?
Do yourself a favour today and read this article – tell others – and never let it happen again. My hat off to all the survivors and to everybody that has had the courage to speak out.
“Evil flourishes when good men do nothing.” ~British statesman Edmund Burke
often go awry said Robbie Burns and John Steinbeck AND me. So the weekend was good, we had a braai (pork sausages with bits of apple in them and chicken kebabs – apologies to the vegies out there) – gorgeous weather during the day, frosty and wet at night (so utterley fabulous re the wetness of it all as we’ve had an incredibly dry winter). Then we had “outlaw” issues – urrgggh – oh and yes anybody who says be nice to them has obviously never owned any!
The outlaw thing then led to, shall we say, a difference of opinion with my Himself who continues to buy the bullshit and the sob stories and the whole gloomy guilt trip of being their son (one of five children just by the way). Which led to Himself having a dropped lip (is the SULK not just the most destructive of emotions in a relationship????) and the level of concentration degenerated into a grunt fest that cavemen would have aspired to back in the day! And you know all I wanted to do this past long weekend – read my book, potter in the garden and do some cross stitch (very therapeutic for the naysayers out there).
On a good note, I did manage to avoid telling the one who pays my salary what a complete arse he is (that must count for something even if it’s true) and lunch was GOOD – in the fresh air, under a stripey brolly, avocado on health bread brimming with nuts and seeds and a vase of delicious mocha coffee.
The best bit for today (obviously discounting health, family and all that good stuff) is the dearest friend who made a big dish of butternut and feta canneloni last night and brought me enough for my dinner tonight (Himself is thankfully out of town until tomorrow).
Have you ever had that heavy feeling on your chest when you wake up?
No not the cat, or the health-related kind where a trip to the quack is probably your best bet before someone has to choose coffin handles but the kind where you know for a fact that there’s crap on the horizon a.k.a. what will happen if I don’t investigate that electrical burning smell! So I’ve been doing the whole thing for the last few days and initially thought the
nasty “black dog” of it all had popped in for a visit but after some serious thinking last night and into the wee hours of this morning I’ve come to the conclusion that being depressed has got diddly squat to do with bugger all. The bottom line is I’m “gatvol”, I’m mad at the world, I’m irritated and brassed off and generally fed up with everybody and everything. My nice fairy has gone on vacation and the old witch caretaker has moved in.
Now you might say “wow an epiphany, an ah ha moment, she has seen the light” – fair enough but now what? I’m pissed off, hooray for me and then?????