home is sweet, and nurturing. home is at once a term of endearment I use for the place in my heart for the family, and also a term I attach to where I live. after 4 weeks on the road moving from place to place, I was quite glad to be with family again, to not be on the move, and i guess, to be home.

 

yet sometimes being home can be frustrating. i hear irritation, impatience, frustration and annoyance in people's voices. I hear them directed to others, i hear them directed to me. Worse of all, I hear them coming from myself, directed at others, and directed at myself.

 

Sometimes the source of these negative emotions perplex me. Maybe they perplex me only because I have been gone not long, but long enough to be able to discern a difference in attitude and moods from myself. I wondered why a simple question of going to the supermarket became riddled with annoyance; and why we couldn't browse, but had to rush, and why a gesture of buying tea had to be rushed in order to beat a non-existent queue.

 

Aren't these trivial enough? But if they are so trivial, why is there so much fussing? Why are complaints always heard so loudly and why are concerns sometimes greeted with suspsicion, and then dismissed? or why do we keep grumbling about what is lacking, but fail to appreciate what is there? Why are we so sure of other people having closed mindsets but not ourselves? Or do we fail to realise that when we say that other people are too stubborn, it is just that we are too convinced of our assumptions about them to recognise that people can change?

 

It's quite tiresome to have exasperation, frustration, irritation, annoyance, impatience and contempt swirl around all the time. And it's also quite tiresome when I try to explain and not be heard, and in the process I get frustrated, exasperated, annoyed, impatient, and irritated.

 

what a post to kick off post-trip blogging.