Today, November the 16th, is ‘International Day For Tolerance’.
This global ‘gift’ arriving courtesy of the United Nations. Just one of many annual observances by the UN, which also include ‘Please Be Nice To Old Fred at Number 53 Day’, ‘Hunter Biden’s Laptop Day’ and ‘Have You Seen My Slippers Day?’.
No doubt today’s later news bulletin’s will be strewn with numerous instances of the world’s populous not subscribing to this well-meaning, but most likely futile, observance.
Exhibiting tolerance is a trait which sits uncomfortably with many folk. Whether it be displays of road rage, chagrin at the supermarket being bereft of loo roll, or ranting at an individual bearing alternate viewpoints, there’s hardly a day goes by where displays of intolerance aren’t witnessed.
Not that I’m judging, I hasten to add. God knows, occasionally yours truly becomes irate over minor inconveniences, such as if experiencing issues fitting my contact lenses. Over the top strops which my now adult children receive with mucho mirth.
Many a time I’ve heard the giggles of my offspring after hearing my yell from the bathroom of “These bloody contacts are doing my head in!” An exclamation ranted in frustration after spending 15 minutes attempting to apply the darned things to my eyeball.
Yours truly becoming even more aggrieved when eventually fitting the lens only to find all the faffing resulted in it’s contamination. Consequently, the flaming thing requires immediate removal, cleaning and me spending another 15 minutes trying to re-apply the sight correction aid. With potentially the same irksome outcome a quarter of an hour later.
Over the years, because of this malarkey, there’s been a few instances I’ve nearly been late for work, or merely given up attempting to fit my contacts and gone out in specs.
That being said, as the ageing process has progressed into my 50’s, GJ Strachan is significantly more tolerant and less prone to angry outbursts at minor inconveniences.
The increased tolerance levels consequential of becoming more comfortable in my own skin. This borne from new found realisation of my true worth as a person. I was late to this party, but at least I got here in the end.
Removing some of the toxic and negative influences from my life has also brought a calmness, where once was discord. Seeking out company of individuals whose pint pot is still 50% full, rather than those crying their glass requires prematurely refilling, brings with it huge emancipation.
Don’t get me wrong, I can still be a “Right miserable bleeder!” (as my peers occasionally observe), however these days I’m more dogged with tasks ahead. Thankfully, I’ve lost the trait of falling into a rage if a task doesn’t end successfully first time of asking.
Does this increased tolerance of recent years put GJ Strachan in the frame as a future ‘International Day For Tolerance’ poster boy?…… Not a chance, although I might make the United Nation’s shortlist for their ‘International Not As Miserable As He Used To Be Day’.
Hopefully, ‘Have You Seen My Slippers Day?’ isn’t too far off; I can’t find the bloody things anywhere!!