It's much harder to be the offender than the offended. All these little social mores of "wronged" and "wronger". There's a power imbalance inherent in having committed a social faux pas. I wonder, sometimes, about the rarefied air that allows one to worry about casual social slights. I can think of so many things in this world where the offense is far more literal and disquieting. Who can worry about "did I hurt your feelings?" when kids get hunted down in Brazil's streets just for being kids. But I do worry about those things. I hate to offend. I will bend over backwards sometimes to make sure I didn't offend. It's a sort of sinful pride, I suppose. It's a conceit that my actions matter much more than they do. Yet, if my actions matter so little, why, I posit, have I managed to commit so many social blunders in what is still a reasonably short life?
I like the idea of Silent Unity, that buncha folks in Missouri who hang out in Unity Village, trying to attune with the Universal Mind and get things done for folks. But I posit that Silent Forgiveness might be of use--a way to cleanse the problems of imagined slight, without the need for words. Words of apology arise from such a power imbalance--the wronged, the wronger.
It would be so nice to just be able to use a silent glance, and know. You know. Silent forgiveness.
Lately I have this sense that I can close my eyes and daydream into vistas I've never seen. Silently. Maybe I'll try it for real, and imagine what it would like to live where I don't feel social slights so easily, and I never slight anyone. Thank goodness I don't usually have to buy indulgences to cover over sins, as this sounded rather an expensive process. But I'd like to worry about petty things less, and things that matter more. I'd like to be nearly senseless of offense, and quick to avoid offending (and make things right) rather than to live life in melodrama. There's just too much to do in life, and I'm bored of emotions.
I won't become Marcus Aurelius any time soon, but I'd like to liberate myself from the flaming wheel of petty worry.