My Inner Bastard

I seem to be getting in touch with my inner bastard. I have always had the luxury of being easygoing. Roxanne was so tough and forceful, we easily fell into the good cop / bad cop routine.

It's much more fun to be the nice guy. So it's always been a bit abnormal when it's been my turn to play the heavy. But now I have to, or the world will roll over me and laugh in disgust at the devastation in its wake. And like many other things in my life, I'm finding that when I'm backed into the corner, I am able to respond with more control and more determination than I thought possibile.

This is where I start hearing Peter Tosh in my head, singing "I'm The Toughest." So I'm becoming tough. That's an asset this time of year. The holidays are approaching - not that they really matter. My family is half way across the continent, so we never do anything around the holidays anyway. I guess I'm fortunate in that there's no Thanksgiving or Christmas table, so there's also no conspicuous empty place at that table this year.

But I'm finding that a think skin seems to help me deal with everyone else's chaos. Everyone is so rushed, so overamped, so frazzelled. So I get to hold on to myself, and be the isle of sanity amid the tempest.

My emotions seem to have stabilized. About twice a day, I lose it, usually for only about 30 seconds, and luckily, so far, I've always been alone whan it happens. Then my inner bastard comes on line, telling me it's time to toughen up. I don't like to think of myself as tough. But it's a character trait that I need to develop, if only to maintain self-discipline.

It's still an effort to stay focused on what's ahead. Toughness is making it easier. More toughness would help. I suppose the new goal is to strengthen my reserve without hardening my heart.

I hope, to steal a popular phrase, that God is still my co-pilot. But it's nice to know that my inner bastard is there, too, crouched in the back seat, nagging the hell out of me for my own good. It's what Roxanne used to do. And it's comforting -- and somehow poetically triumphant -- to know that from our time together, I have learned from her how to find the strength I now need.