why did you lie to me
because I'm a wild animal
you are also a husband and father
I'm trying to tell you the truth about myself
I don't care about the truth about yourself
There is a book that I read some years ago, it is called The Gift of Fear. It's a decent read and worth mulling, but one of the sections of the book deals with our tendency as humans to ignore or overrule our instincts in favor of what has been previously determined to be socially acceptable. The passage that stuck with me regarded a woman alone in the lobby of a building, waiting for an elevator, and when it opened there was a single man in the elevator. Every instinct told her not to get in the elevator, but she did not want the man in the elevator to think that she thought whatever whatever. The author points out that despite your nerves and gut screaming at you no no no, that we will stroll right into a windowless, soundproof metal cage and lock ourselves in with a total stranger that we cannot escape from no matter how we try, simply to avoid giving the impression that we do not trust them. Simply to avoid the POSSIBILITY that this stranger might POSSIBLY be offended by our own need to POSSIBLY save our own life, and that there is no other animal on the planet that would put themselves in that situation.
Sometimes I wonder how we have the balls to call ourselves advanced, to assert that we are higher, more intelligent beings when so often we display not the inability to behave in a natural, instinctive manner, but rather refusal to do so because of rules that we have imposed on ourselves. How many times have I found myself in a situation that I could have avoided if I had only listened to myself at the beginning? How many times should I be dead? How many times, I wonder, did I not even realize I was in that situation but was instead extricated prior to disaster by outside forces? I know perfectly well how many times I have pissed someone off by listening to my instincts, and ended up with no other explanation to offer except Because It Feels Wrong. That number is bigger than a breadbox, but the other number is bigger.
We're conditioned from playground one to be polite and understanding and benefit-of-doubt giving and innocent-until-proven-guilty assuming and above all, let-it-go-ing. I know that the majority of that conditioning is so that we can all live in the same world, and is necessary in order to maintain some semblance of respect among us as people. But there is a part of me that misses the part of me that existed a million years ago, the part that my ex-husband's ancestors lived in fear of, the part that this fucking girl's precursors would have recognized, the part that did not ask Who Do They Think They Are but rather answered the question of Who Do They Think I Am in no uncertain terms. The part of me that accepted my instinctive behavior as, well, acceptable. That part of ourselves that shows up to defend and protect and, sure, I'll say it, teach a fucking lesson. Here is the lesson for today, ladies and gentlemen: I am not fucking around right now. You are mistaken in your assumption that I am going to roll over and step aside and stand down for the sake of your fucking HR report, or your god damned attorney, or your incessant restraining orders. Words, words, words will not protect you any more than they have ever protected me and if you think they will, then you have failed to learn anything from the news. Except here is the real leson for today: there is absolutely nothing I can do, because that would not be polite.
you are also a husband and father
I'm trying to tell you the truth about myself
I don't care about the truth about yourself
There is a book that I read some years ago, it is called The Gift of Fear. It's a decent read and worth mulling, but one of the sections of the book deals with our tendency as humans to ignore or overrule our instincts in favor of what has been previously determined to be socially acceptable. The passage that stuck with me regarded a woman alone in the lobby of a building, waiting for an elevator, and when it opened there was a single man in the elevator. Every instinct told her not to get in the elevator, but she did not want the man in the elevator to think that she thought whatever whatever. The author points out that despite your nerves and gut screaming at you no no no, that we will stroll right into a windowless, soundproof metal cage and lock ourselves in with a total stranger that we cannot escape from no matter how we try, simply to avoid giving the impression that we do not trust them. Simply to avoid the POSSIBILITY that this stranger might POSSIBLY be offended by our own need to POSSIBLY save our own life, and that there is no other animal on the planet that would put themselves in that situation.
Sometimes I wonder how we have the balls to call ourselves advanced, to assert that we are higher, more intelligent beings when so often we display not the inability to behave in a natural, instinctive manner, but rather refusal to do so because of rules that we have imposed on ourselves. How many times have I found myself in a situation that I could have avoided if I had only listened to myself at the beginning? How many times should I be dead? How many times, I wonder, did I not even realize I was in that situation but was instead extricated prior to disaster by outside forces? I know perfectly well how many times I have pissed someone off by listening to my instincts, and ended up with no other explanation to offer except Because It Feels Wrong. That number is bigger than a breadbox, but the other number is bigger.
We're conditioned from playground one to be polite and understanding and benefit-of-doubt giving and innocent-until-proven-guilty assuming and above all, let-it-go-ing. I know that the majority of that conditioning is so that we can all live in the same world, and is necessary in order to maintain some semblance of respect among us as people. But there is a part of me that misses the part of me that existed a million years ago, the part that my ex-husband's ancestors lived in fear of, the part that this fucking girl's precursors would have recognized, the part that did not ask Who Do They Think They Are but rather answered the question of Who Do They Think I Am in no uncertain terms. The part of me that accepted my instinctive behavior as, well, acceptable. That part of ourselves that shows up to defend and protect and, sure, I'll say it, teach a fucking lesson. Here is the lesson for today, ladies and gentlemen: I am not fucking around right now. You are mistaken in your assumption that I am going to roll over and step aside and stand down for the sake of your fucking HR report, or your god damned attorney, or your incessant restraining orders. Words, words, words will not protect you any more than they have ever protected me and if you think they will, then you have failed to learn anything from the news. Except here is the real leson for today: there is absolutely nothing I can do, because that would not be polite.
posted by machine central at 10:18 AM
1 Comments:
Very nice writing.
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