I have been trying to be a little calmer, and nicer. My wife has been practicing the power of positvie thinking ever since I have known her. It works really well for her. Nothing rattles her resolve, with the exception of my raised voice. I have been spending some time everyday making my internal monologue encourage me, instead of calling me a dumb ass. I try to imagine accomplishing goals, without being stressed. I build a picture of the success making people happy. I want to be a guy that gets things done without conflict.
"How's that working for you?" Asks my internal monologue.
"Be Quiet." I reply.
I am back in the music business. I have had a few meetings and calls with industry folks lately. My last foray in the business, left me with a lot of psychic baggage. I was not the best person I could have been. I want to learn to get things done without doing what the band used to call, "rearranging someone's D.N.A.."
I had a meeting in Orlando Wednesday and over all it went very well, but I was surprised how quickly I turned back into Ari Gold. I was talking fast and the evil was creeping back in.
Last night I was on a ride with the boys and I was determined to be patient with one of our newbies. He means well but his energy is usually expressed in bad passes, twitchy steering, goofing around at bad times....you know all the stuff I did when I was new and still do now. I tired to compliment him on his good points. He rode some tough sections really well and I told him so. Eventually he couldn't help himself and while screwing around almost locked bars with me, you know , like I have been doing to Big Worm for years. This lead to me completely unloading my whole week on the guys head, and a really long silence from the boys.
"Nice one!" My internal monologue says.
I had to make a call and left the ride early. I had plenty of time to watch the instant replay. I said "Dammit!" to the empty woods. An argument could be made that he desrved it or that I was having a crazy week but I am reminded of a quote from Calvin Coolige.
"I've never been hurt by something I didn't say."
Is it possible for the scorpion to ride the frog's back accross the lake without stinging him? I am not sure, but I have a new steamer trunk in my psychic luggage.
Go ahead and kick my ass in the comments, I've got it coming.