by Doug C. Grant

"So why haven't you done it?"

The question arrived by i-mail shortly after I had settled down to read paper. Unlike e-mail, which I can read whenever I feel like it, i-mail demands instant attention. It comes from my Other-Self and is all internal. It can, of course, be ignored. But this simply intensifies nagging.

I put down paper and irritably responded, "Done what?"

"That article you've been thinking about writing."

"Oh, that. Well, truth is, I didn't think I could do a good job of it. The article probably wouldn't be accepted and I would have wasted a lot of time."

"So you decided on instant failure. Is that it?"

Other-Self had tweaked a nerve. "I did not decide on any such thing. It's just practical wisdom. Like somebody said, ‛Anything worth doing is worth doing well.' I didn't think I could do it well so I didn't consider it worth doing. That to me is sensible logic."

"That's not logic. It's borderline stupidity."

"And I suspect, without any urging from me, you're about to guide me down what you consider a far superior road of reason."

"You're quite perceptive today. Consider this. ‛Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly...in beginning.'"

"Oh, come now! Talk about your stupid logic. Why would anyone start out to purposely do something poorly?"

"Excuse me. Did I say ‛purposely'? I don't think I heard that word."

by Doug C. Grant

"Caught you, didn't I?"

Another intrusive i-mail had arrived. I was in middle of doing what I considered to be an extraordinarily good job of relaxing on our balcony. But i-mail message took care of that. Unlike e-mail, which can be ignored or deleted, my internal i-mail demands immediate attention.

"You didn't catch me doing anything but relaxing," I muttered in response to Other-Self's accusation. "And I don't appreciate interruption."

"You weren't relaxing and you know it. You've got everyone upset down here. Stomach is really in a stew."

"Oh, come now, I was simply wool gathering."

"Perhaps. But all your wool was getting knotted up in angry thoughts about money you lost last September."

"Okay. So I'm still a little ticked. I was lied to. I've got a right to nurse some hard feelings."

"Who gave you that right?"

Other-Self has a way of asking such questions. Of course I didn't have an answer so I decided on belligerence as my defense. "I've got every right. I was hurt."

"Oh, that's really smart. You were hurt so now you're going to hurt yourself again and again by dwelling on same hurt. Not only that, but you've just wasted a half-hour composing all sorts of bitter accusations and put-downs for yelling at someone you'll probably never see again."

"Yeah...well, I like to be prepared. Just in case. Besides, making up a lot of nasty things to say makes me feel better."

"Maybe you're getting some mental lollipops out of exercise but not us. The way I figure it, you've just needlessly aged your body 104 minutes during your half-hour of anger-stress. Send down a few more such thoughts and you can go for full two hours."

"Hey, I don't need to listen to this. I'm one up here having to wrestle with all anger thoughts. And they aren't going away just because I tell them to."

"Of course they will. You just haven't tried."

"TRY! What's to try. Angry thoughts just come. So what am I supposed to do? Sit around in a coma?"