The Human Condition Book One # 2

If I were a guilt-ridden, 60-year-old man

I answered the door to a draft of cold air and stifled a moan. He was dark, ugly and far too big. Guilt moved to come in, but I blocked him.

“What is it this time?” I asked, hearing the fear in my voice.

He just stood there, staring, right through me.

The nervous silence stretched, until I blurted, “It is my assistant, isn’t it. I yelled at her, and now I am supposed to feel guilty. Well, I have no more room.”

In a vaguely threatening voice, Guilt asked, “No room?”

I panicked and quickly added, “You know how overloaded I am. There is just, well, no more room!”

He gave up trying to come in and leaned against the doorframe, pretending he did not care.

“So you are hanging on to the old guilt,” he said. “Why?”

“Hanging on?” I asked.

He looked irritated and said, “Guilt is just a feeling that says, ‘You missed the target.’ When you yelled at your assistant, you missed your target of treating people considerately.”

“Yes, yes,” I said impatiently. “What did you mean by hanging on?”

He shook his head and sighed.

“After you make yourself feel badly enough, long enough, you have paid for missing the target.”

He looked at me like I was stupid and added, “Once you have paid, you are supposed to let it go.”

My eyes dropped to the floor. Silence surrounded us.

Finally, I whispered what had never been spoken: “After all this time, I still feel awful about hurting my sister. And she died.”

I looked up with tears in my eyes and pleaded, “How much time is enough?”

Guilt shrugged and said, “How should I know? My job is to help you with the next load, although I have to say, you have never needed much help.”

Suddenly angry, I yelled, “Well I have too much now! I just cannot take any more!”

Guilt leaned over me with his towering bulk. I cringed.

His voice rumbled, “Like it or not, you already feel guilty about yelling at your assistant.”

Slowly, I eased back.

He straightened, and with a sarcastic edge to his voice said, “Besides, you are the one in control. You can change your behavior and hit the target, or you can change the target.”

I frowned and began a question, but he shook his head and again looked at me as if I were lacking.

He asked, “How do you feel when you overeat?”

I scrambled to switch topics and said, “Bad. I feel guilty.”

“But you are not overweight.”

“My mom told us that eating too much is hard on the digestive system.”

Guilt laughed and said, “So your mom set the target. When you overeat, is it really too much?”

Thoughtfully, I said, “No, probably not; but wait. Do you mean that I can reset the target and make it okay to eat more?”

With some excitement, I added, “Or I can decide not to have a target at all!”

Guilt turned to leave.

“Wait!” I shouted. “Deciding targets is about stopping new guilt. How do I get rid of the old?”

He stopped, looked back, and with unexpected kindness said, “You can, of course, forgive yourself for being hard on your sister. You were children; you were doing the best you could; and she died from a heart operation, not from anything you did.”

As tears flooded my eyes, I turned back into the warmth of the room, softly whispering, forgive myself?”

36.831206 -121.772506