Hateful

One of my grandma’s favorite things to tell me when I was a teenager was that I was a hateful, hateful child.

Yeah, whatever. She was (in my teenaged mind) a nagging old hag (by the way, she was probably all of 50 years old when I was a teenager, so…yeah, let that one simmer.)

These days, my grandma is a lovely 91 year old lady with lots of awesome stories to tell. She has the softest hands and always smells like roses. So sometimes, we can grow out of being hateful.

Except, while I’m no longer hateful to my poor, dear grandmother, I am hateful at other times in my life.

I find myself muttering, “I hate that guy.” I do this while at work.

While in the car, I mutter much worse (is there much worse than hate, though?) I hate people who drive the wrong way in a parking lot. I hate people who pull through parking spaces and then ‘have’ to drive the wrong way.

I hate that one guy that ALWAYS pulls out in front of me when I’m on my way home. I hate to tap my brakes because even though he can see me coming, he pulls onto a state road, drives all of 40MPH for a freaking mile and then turns off the state road. I hate him sooooo much.

So yes, I’m so hateful these days.

I should probably do something about that. It can’t be good for my soul to be so full of hate. I need to find my zen.

Any advice on doing that?