Patience

I think I am a patient person.

Well, to be accurate, I have learned to be. I have leaned to tame that quick tempered aspect in me, able to get me burst at the tiniest provocation.

Not that I have learned to swallow. Maybe now I can sense provocations with more humour than before. Putting everything into perspective. Like a mindgame where I try to outsmart my opponent.

I think that I have always been fascinated by patience. It dates back of the time when I was fascinated by those anime characters: always getting themselves in the worst situations...and always take it calmly, being mature, not being defeated by insults or naggings.

Best example? Saint Seya. Where the fights would always begin with a sarcasm. The foe judging his ennemy's strenght... Ten times would you hear the hero groan...His eyes trembling, his body tensed. But he would never let anger blind him.

I lost control many times. For reasons that I believed to be true, and that I consider now with a smile. I remember one day, I was around 19 years old, I tear down a book. My body was emprisoned ina cold fury, and my mind was watching my body frantically reducing the book to smithereen. It was an old book about the USSR, a book given to me by a rich man. "this will be helpful in your studies". I took it as an offence, as a rich man's getiing rid of some old book, to a girm struggling with her classes. And underneath struggling with herself, with a life she felt she hadn't chosen entirely.

That time, I remember, my mother wouldn't approach me. She told me she was sincerely afraid I might hurt her, hit her. The I was seeing her fear, the more I was getting out of control. She called my dad. My dad screamed louder than me. I ended up crying away in my room, exhausted. His power only had been enough. Ackowledging his authority upon mine, without hitting me physically, was enough to turn the anger into shame.



I couldn't apologize. Only enprison myslef into a mute defensive attitude. Then, life would go on, smiles would appear again.

Every now and then, my mother recall that afternoon, when some innocent book had been slaughtered without mercy. And as she lightly talks about it, I smile in a pityful way..knowing that under her smile, she remember the anger, the monster her daughter had become...

It is generally enough to make me think twice before getting angry.

Of course, the old reflexes remains... Sometimes some persons (liek my boss XD) seems to know how to push the buttons, leading to that ancient wrath....But hopefully, and little by little, I strenghten myself against my old demons.

And the soothing presence of the man of y life leads me out of this darkness of anger, day after day.