It has, blessedly, been fairly quiet on the silat politics front around here of late. Partially, that's because I have disengaged from the repartee. Of course, I still now and then see something pop up on the web that makes me want to grind my teeth. The folks who don't agree with me, or each other, are still out there, I just stopped getting into debates with them. Serves no purpose. Even if I automatically assume I am right–which I have to admit isn't a given–minds-changing in this arena are as rare as hen's teeth. Zealotry hasn't died out, that I noticed.
Better to take a deep breath, spit out what I don't like, and go on my way. Ever so much better for my blood pressure. Life is too short to spend much of it like Donald Duck in a squawking rage.
So, Steve, Mr. Mellow, why even bring it up?
There have been recently a couple of things I've found interesting.
In one instance, there was an overture from somebody not-well-thought-of in Sera circles, wanting to tell me his side of the story.
There was a time when I would have turned a deaf ear to this. Instead, I listened, replied and the conversation was civil. I could even see his point.
On one hand, that's what has to happen if there is ever going to be any kind of peace. On the other hand, trust is not easy. You can give somebody the benefit of the doubt, but you also keep your eyes open–"forgive" isn't the same as "forget."
In another instance, I saw a posting from somebody I used to respect and enjoy talking to that indicated he's still somebody I wouldn't want to turn my back on if he was within striking distance. Having felt his metaphorical (and quite unexpected) knife twixt my shoulder blades once before was, like touching a hot stove, enough experience to make the case. Before I go there, I need more evidence that I'm not going to be a target and what I'm hearing doesn't offer such.
People can move on, and we have all made mistakes for which we would like redemption. Allowing for that possibility in others means you have a shot at it yourself. But it's like the old joke: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb? Only one–but the light bulb has really got to want to change ...
Sometimes, leopards might alter their spots.
Sometimes, assholes continue to be assholes.
So it goes. I can shrug and acknowledge that the tempest still exists without wading into it up to my neck, and for me, that's an improvement.