Christmas Concern

Greetings from the Pobble! Hopefully everyone's holiday was as merry ~ or at least bearable, as I know I'm not the only one here in cyber space with family issues. Christmas in Connecticut with the Lovely Cats (ah ~ alliteration!) was delightful. There's something especially nice about Christmas with children.

However, all that being said, a concern did develop for me over the holiday. I'm concerned I'm becoming hard and/or cold. See, there were a couple times when I wanted to look at the Tom Cat and the Lovely Cat's mother and say "Seriously, relax. The situation is what it is. You don't have to bring this kind of drama into it." But I was the only one who seemed to be thinking that. And that's my concern.

Now, I thoroughly enjoy not having drama in my life. I mean, let's face it; life has drama enough without us creating more. When the Silent Prince got lead poisoning and had to go to and stay in the hospital until they could release him to a lead-free environment, that was drama. Having now been through a divorce, I understand: Divorce equals drama. When another friend's mother went into the hospital for knee surgery and ended up dying from complications? DRAMA. Unexpectedly losing your job; catching the cooking oil on fire; car accidents...Drama comes at us in all shapes and sizes all the time. So why should we make a dramatic situation more dramatic?

And yet...I don't want to be hard, either. I don't want to be one of those people who has no sympathy for others. Who cannot step back and say "This is important to this person in this moment." Who flits around indifferently to the pain around her ~ or perhaps even caused by her. And when she does notice it, holds it in scorn.

Before I went down to Connecticut, interestingly enough, the Lovely Cats and I had a conversation about pity. What I realized was I really have no use for it. I have use for sympathy. I have use for empathy. Both are vital in healthy, strong, important relationships. But pity? There are very, very few people I pity. Does that make me hard?

Am I a product of my environment ~ a dead father; an ugly divorce; an indifferent mother; and a sister who doesn't understand me any more than I understand her? Can I help but be hard? God, I hope so.

I know I've gotten harder these past two years. My insecurities are fewer and better protected ~ which makes it interesting when they come out, of course. At that point, I'm sure friends would tell you there's unneccessary drama. Hey, I never claimed to be perfect! But I am hoping I am not becoming Hard. Stronger, less dramatic, more confident ~ those I can handle. I just don't want Hard.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.