It's 3:33 - Afternoon Tea Time on the outskirts of London. You've just settled down with your girlfriends in the back parlor to a cup of Twining Earl Grey.
Your thoughts are simple: "No pets to take care of, no worries, exams finished. Finally some time for ME."
Diane didn't mean it, your friend that is, but her skirt caught on the fork sticking over the edge of the table. Like a catapult her saucer flew, and your own new silk dress got drenched - and stained - with TEA.
"You are SUCH a klutz!" you explode, turning red in the face... Diane bursts into tears... You storm off - wet - to your room...
Only 30 minutes later, after changing into something dry, are you able to apologize for "exploding." You reflect how you will need to "learn to control your reactions in the future."
May I ask a question? Why are we so focused on removing the pain ... but rarely the problem? Why do we want to address the symptoms ... but not the cause?
Why do Doctors give us pain killers to remove our headache, but rarely help us find out WHY we've got a headache in the first place?
Why are we quick to take drugs for anxiety without ever asking ourselves WHY we are anxious?
Maybe it's only obvious then, if we do this with our bodies, that it will happen with our souls too.
The real cause in this example is not "lack of control" but the reason WHY she would even get mad in the first place. When a dry dress is more important to me than the feelings of my companion the deeper problem is pride and self-love.
To act better in the future, it's not enough to address the external symptoms - we need to go to the root of the problem.