March 17, 2018: Incubate

It seemed a moment too late.

The anger in Hershen was real, and so were the words that revealed her anger to the world. It all happened so fast. She reacted suddenly. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes narrowed, and her will surrendered to her anger. First, she yelled, but she was alone in the room. This angered her even more — people must know! Second, she slammed her fingers onto her computer keyboard to compose the email that she wished she didn’t send soon after sending. A spoken word that falls on ears has a different effect — there is tone, timing, and tension in the voice. The written word remains there, in your face, reminding the reader what you wrote, and showing you what you just revealed. Hershen’s written word was composed in anger. She shared it, in anger. She would have used different words, but instead she used those words. The ones that she could not take back. Had she let her anger sit. Had she let it incubate into a better anger. An anger that she would keep to herself until it was ready for use, until it had reached a maturity. Then, Hershen could have sent her anger toward her ambition. She could have used her anger as fuel to fulfill ambition. She could have embraced it. Instead, she surrendered. She only realized that a moment too late.



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