PUT A SOCK IN IT

I’m a bit whiny at the moment, and as usual for these misery moments, I think there are two prevailing attitudes around.

One says I should probably just get on with whatever it is I’m doing, without complaining, without a hint of grumpiness or gloom affecting everyone around me. That, I feel implicitly, is what the Greats would do - like monks who’ve fine-tuned their self-control, they’ve mastered how they feel, and press on through, quietly, while the storm rages inside. The Greats are infuriating aren’t they. Are they even people?

The other attitude says tosh to all of that. Be real, be yourself, don’t be afraid to rant and whinge if that’s how you feel - get it out, be emotional and don’t hold back. You need people around you, and they’ll value your honesty!

I don’t want to hurt people though. And I know that grumpiness can be infectious, and kind of irritating. I wouldn’t want to be around me when I’m volcanically mad. Yet I do need help, I think. Hmm.

Is it possible that the best way to be is a combination? Not ascetic like a super-monk, but not bursting with infuriation all the time either. It has to be okay to be real, doesn’t it, I mean it just has to be! Yet it also has to be good to be wise and controlled when everything in you feels like a rage of boiling lava.

I may be quiet for a while, while I keep trying to find that balance.

So here’s the deal. If you ask me how I am and I give you the kind of reply you’d expect from the abbot in the cloisters, you have permission to ask me again and append your question with a raised-eyebrow ‘really?’ I’ll then be honest, I promise.

Otherwise, if I instantly explode into a rant of atypical proportion, that feels like standing in the path of Mount Chimborazo, then by all means tell me to put a sock in it.

Typical. I’m now imagining a medieval monk climbing a South American volcano with a giant sock.

I guess if nothing else I could just remember that to give myself a chuckle when I need it.