Letters to my Greatgrand Daughter: Your Inner Samurai
This is a letter about being the bigger man. Earlier today*, someone responded to a question I had asked on a social media platform with a remarkably snide remark. Instantly, I took off my earrings, and took my Taekwondo butterfly kick stance. I was ready to attack. I couldn’t believe the number of sarcastic, so-in-context retorts that flooded my head. They were so good, I think I shivered a little.
Then I stopped. As a (new) rule, I never attack immediately. I wait. Hold my breath and then let it out. Once again, hold that breath, let it out. I close my eyes. I imagine the sun is shining on my face and I let the battle drums fade into the background. Harps play instead—this part takes a while. I think about the consequences. Today, that incident made me think about what I represent. I asked myself what I’d advice someone else to do.
Overlook it, I'd say. Overlook the offense. It's not worth it. Your future is impeccable, your path is sterling. Don't play around in cyber mud.
It was hard. It is hard—doing the right thing. It’s hard to be already half -suspended in the air, arms spread out like wings, ready to flick that ankle and kick her in the mouth, all calculated. No chance of a miss.
I let it slide.
The next time someone ticks you off so much that the only thing they apparently deserve is a fine whack, a polished lecture, a sweet piece of your mind. Don’t dish it.
Offer mercy instead.
They may not deserve it. I know, but life is crazy, in a few hours, you may be in need of mercy, yourself. You wouldn’t want someone to unleash their inner-Samurai on you. Would you?
*written two months ago.