Crossing the Line

Crossing the Line

I suppose I have crossed many lines in my life even though I didn't mean to. All I wanted was to have some excitement, getting as close to the line as I could, causing some raised eyebrows and sighs of annoyance. That has been the intentions of all my unconventional acts and gestures. However, unfortunately sometimes I misjudged the topography of the terrain, and the momentum of my actions carried me over the line, setting off fireworks and explosions in the minds of the spectators. And they all went home, hopping mad, stewing and plotting punishment. They then in turn went a bit too far. Now we are locked into this vicious cycle of cause and effect, feeling injured and small at the same time.

So, what is the solution, apart from adopting a life of a hermit? Moderation and gentleness could be the answers. Holding back a little bit of what you want to dump on the guy who caused you unhappiness. Maybe having a quiet, private chat with him before staging a public lynching of him. After all, he is probably very much like you, a little bored and little lonely, and yet very sensitive. He probably just needs a few gentle reminders and he will back off. Don't humiliate him publicly unless his crime does deserve such ostentatious application of punishment and allusions about power, unless you want to cross the point of no return. This reflection and reminder, of course, applies to him as well. Like all sensitive humans, he perhaps feels pain, perhaps deservedly. Like all intelligent humans, he is saying to himself: "Huh. Hm. Wow. Oh, my goodness." But he stops short of dwelling on the past. Writing these words is part of the healing process. It's time for him to move on. He does not have much time left on this planet. Alzheimer is waiting at the door. He wants to have an audience with the man of the house.