Hatred is Hell. The way we tense against what we detest. How we constrict our breath and harden our heart and close our mind like a door slammed shut in a prison cell, impenetrable steel, unyielding.
My neighbor left her car running. Old car, noxious fumes, so loud. For over 30 minutes. I willed it to blow up (I’m ashamed to admit this but it’s the truth. She wasn’t in it). I thought to climb in and drive it to the dump where it belongs (my impudent, self-righteous judging self agreed, smirking. Suddenly mean as a sleeping animal you’ve accidentally stepped on.)
Then she turned it off, without going anywhere. It’s not my business, but my reaction is curious. It was loud, it smelled bad. It offended me. When all you can do is breathe, you need to un-clench your annoyance and give in to it. Not saying you’ll enjoy it (that’s farther down the road), but release the hounds of hating it. All those dogs with all that rage, just looking to start a fight. Give them a quiet corner and a tasty treat, and tell them to settle down. They can’t begin to understand their rage but you can. So the car stinks and the relentless noise annoys. Is there anything you can do to make it stop, which wouldn’t make it worse? (mostly they won’t even open their front door). ‘Let it go’ has become cliche but no less true. Your anger impacts you. Your neighbor could give a flying fig about your hatred towards her car!
Nice girls don’t get angry is the way I heard it, but after years of stuffing it in every closet I ever owned, I simply ran out of room for it. ‘Clean out your closets’ is an apt metaphor, as surely as ‘Replace your crappy windows.’ To the poet, everything’s a metaphor. When I find one for cars on the cusp of dying (oh, I think I just have), I’ll let you know.
LBM 12/10/2018 (addendum: the new windows were an insanely noisy install, which went on for *hours*. So I am chagrined to have complained).