Realization #1

Just because I've changed doesn't mean other people stop being assholes.

After the momentous "I didn't shoot (literally or metaphorically) anyone" experience the other day, I truly expected a thunderclap. Heavens opening, clouds parting, trumpets blaring...

Of course, there was that earthquake in Haiti, but -- despite dear Aunt Lorraine's contention that I affect the weather -- I don't think that was Heaven's confirmation that I have finally pulled my head out of my ass.  That's ridiculous. 

Is that how illumination comes? It slowly sneaks in and sits next to us, unconcerned that we haven't noticed it, knowing we eventually will?

Is illumination a cat?

Later, I worried that my newfound mellowness would dull my edge. I can be soft, but I prefer not to be, in general. I prefer people to be a little afraid. I don't want to turn into one of those dewy, "Let's all hold hands and sit in a circle and sing 'Kumbaya' " people. Ick. All I want is for The Shadow to stop running The Show. Does letting go of the latter ensure the former?

I hope the hell not.

JoJo pointed out that changes with me do not necessarily precipitate changes in others. As much as I'd like to believe in the Cosmic Ripple Effect, JoJo is right: There are dams everywhere. And pebbles, too. I take solace in that my emerging light will shine somewhere, although the recipient may be totally random.

Sort of like how I secretly hope the rantings in this blog will somehow lead to an engineer in Australia planting daffodils.

While the people Down Under may be basking in the warmth of my Sun, the people closest to me may not. Thus, the potential for encounters and interactions to feed my sharp wit truly has not diminished. 

This realization has made the path I'm on a little less agonious*: At least I still get to stab people. OK, so now most of it is in my head (again the quest for the high road, no matter how soul-numbingly mature), but there's still material. And now this blog. So both my Aurora’s (my Higher Self) and Amanda's (my Inner Child) needs are met.

All right.

I guess compromise (ick) is of a part of balance. I guess that means I am doing the right thing. I guess that means I should stop complaining. I guess bliss descended and I was too trivially preoccupied to notice.

Hm.

Does the silent thunderclap account for the invisible changes?

* Note: "Agonious" is a term I coined while I was working on my Masters in Experimental Psychology at Cal State Fullerton. It means "agony-filled."