Pride
An Evil Flower Blossoms

 My indignation
blossomed
like an evil flower
Pride everywhere


It astounds me how instantaneously and how vigorously indignation arises.

Since moving here, I have assumed to be one with the (admittedly small) Crescent City, California early-morning walking community. We are kindred souls, that’s my take. Souls often besting the wind and even rain to get our daily mile or two in no matter what.

So it seems only natural to wave and say hi to each other when we pass, just that briefly raised arm, perhaps a murmured ‘morning if wind or rain does not get in the way of audible speech, or a loud Good Morning if the sun is up and shining.

And I’d say that in nine cases out of ten, this is a reciprocal undertaking, there’s always the return wave, the return mumble, or the return Good Morning.

As for the tenth: never even a glance. Ignore, seems to be the policy.

Normally, I didn’t give this tenth a second thought. Oh, well, that person has something going on, who knows what. Problems at home, work issues, who knows. Then again, a lifted arm isn’t too much of an effort now, is it?

Then one morning I let that kernel, that tiny mustard seed of resentment creep in and take root and within a breath or two this thing had grown from seedling to raging tree. Near enough shocked me, actually.

Who the hell does he think he is? Is it too much to ask for, just a return wave? What am I, way below your caste? Untouchable, is that it?

He saw me wave, didn’t he? Clearly.

And, and, and… Whoa, wait a minute. I grabbed the reins and pulled hard. Easy now you mad dog. Deep breath. And one more. There now. All right, that’s better. Why did you have to fan those flames?

No good answer to that; I wasn’t really aware that I had fanned them, but I must have for they exploded into a near-fatal case of indignation.

Pride seems to be the best kindling ever.

::

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