rat poison

I have been thinking about character lately... especially because of something my sister said the other day.

"Abby gets mad really easily."

I immediately became angry, replying that I only get mad when I am purposefully provoked. I was defensive because I am rather easy going, and more often feel as though I am being a pushover rather than a hothead. But what sort of virtue is this anyway, the virtue of irregular grace and occasional good temper?

In Mere Christianity C.S. Lewis writes:
"Surely what a man does when he is taken off his guard is the best evidence for what sort of man he is? Surely what pops out before the man has time to put on a disguise is the truth? If there are rats in the cellar you are most likely to see them if you go in very suddenly. But the suddenness does not create the rats: it only prevents them from hiding."

I find that I am often on my best behavior when I am in public, amongst those I want to make a good impression on, the ones who do not love me unconditionally. It is easier to be your unlovable, fleshy self when home, amongst those who must love you with all your warts and blemishes.

I want to kill the rats. I want to be a woman of peace, a woman whose words are patient and true... even when surprised... even when provoked.