Scissor sister

The bank tells me I may never own a house and I'm able to smile it off. My sister, on the other hand, got me mad, and for the first time since my meditation, because she wouldn't (again) drive me the remaining 1.8km to work this morning. I am always willing to walk, it's just... well, I just think she could've done it. Lol. It was like my yesterself knew just what I would need to read first thing this morning.

My anger or disappointment was, after half a kilometer, replaced with compassion. She is so angry at everybody, and seemingly at herself, but I don't think she realizes it. She uses my mother's car on a daily basis, thusly leaving my autumned mother home alone without her wheels. The two of them have been getting, um, warm and warmer about the issue. Yesterday, I tried to suggest the realistic concept of sharing a day here and a day there - it bought me an ear full and another day on some dusty streets; like it was all my fault. Oh, and forget any possibility that I might need a car on occasion (i.e. tonight would've been good as I am invited to dinner in the city – and once again a choice between a 10:30 public transit curfew vs. the absorption of a 2 hour bus ride and then a 2km walk uphill).

Somewhere between doing nothing and concern for the well being of others has to exist a tier of constructive and non-intrusive compassion. Reconfirmed is that patience for the challenges in the lives others is a choice merit in situations like these, in trying to help others; ourselves; impermanence.

So sis, I'm sorry you're so upset with whatever it is that drives you to these mad road rage-ish behaviors that I keep seeing. Observation seem to yield that it's killing you softly. I'm sorry I got upset with you this morning, for my own sake at least, and even though I didn't really react. Let me know what I can do help, and let me start with more variable kilometer days on some dusty streets and umpteen hours on city buses. I will not only handle it, but find ways to enjoy it. You know where I am if and when you want to talk.

My dad asked that I keep the family outta the blog, so no more… enter Ms. Pink ;)