Suffering: Apply. Wait. Reapply.

Mi amiga Roberta once said "Pain is mandatory, suffering is optional", which I'll use as a clever segue to how I got in to an email fight with someone. Why is it that email is completely inadequate at capturing mood, tone and emotion--until someone writes and tells you to go *&%^$#! yourself?

So what did I learn other than getting flamed in an email is pretty much like getting flamed in person? I learned that NY State law restricts the possession of semiautomatic assault weapons that hold up to 100 rounds. In retrospect, probably a good thing. I'd been the victim of a an email drive-by and there was little I could do but suck toxic tail-pipe fumes as they drove away.

Problem is, while you're choking down someone else's anger-laced carbon monoxide, you tend to keep replaying the events in your head. It becomes one giant loop reliving itself, the ultimate inner, "He said, she said". And the next thing you know, circumventing the state mandated six month waiting period for a handgun seems, well reasonable. And that's when you better wake up and smell the karma.

Because the more I replayed the events, the bigger more life-like and real the whole thing seemed. I was feeding my emotions big double-handfuls of self-justified anger-kibble and they were quickly growing up and out of control. They had become Rage-Zilla, foot-stomping to matchsticks whole villages of reason and patience.

And then an ancient Buddhist saying came to me, "Dude--shut up". And I realized that it was up to me. To shut up, to stop replaying events, to seal up the bag of anger-kibble, to tear up my registration form for an assault weapon and to just, stop. So I did. And lo and behold Rage-Zilla tucked his tail and vanished.

I realized it'd be wiser to spend the next six months being grateful for a lovely wife, family and life rather then put on one of those semi-knit trucker's hats made from beer cans, waiting for my Fed Ex delivery of a semi-auto handgun. I mean, someone has to stop the madness, why not me?

There's a great quote from one of those old Buddhist Yoda's, about what not to do with one's thoughts. It starts out "Do not imagine, think, deliberate, meditate, act but be at rest...". This doesn't mean "Go zombie" whenever trouble arises, but rather, "...at rest" means to let mind rest in its own ability to be present, intelligent. Don't crank anything up. For that matter, don't crank anything down.

Oh, the other thing I learned is that email is probably the media-crack of the millennium marketed by self serving corporate interests to undermine the necessity of human interaction and create an unhealthy dependency on technology.

Then again, maybe I just need to learn to not type whatever comes out of my brain.