When I Snap

When I Snap!

Are you a snapper? 
Do you snap at people?
I don’t – usually.
I used to a lot more,
so when I snapped at someone the other day, it was such a shock that I found myself writing a little poem about it.
The sort of poem I imagine Winnie the Pooh or Mr Rogers might write. 

When I snap
it leaves a jangle 
a clanky sort of

nervy mangle.
Tight breath and hot face.
I kind of hate the human race.

When I snap I never mean it.
What comes out is so unseen it
shocks me hard and tight across 
the acres of my chest and leaves me daisy dazed for days until the waves are not so choppy
and my heart is less flip-floppy
and I say, “I am sorry 
for snapping so unhappy.”
and I hope it never happens 

A child part of me wrote that poem. A child part that is trying to make sense of what happened. 
Between you and me it is probably the same part that snapped – that lashed out. A part that felt progressively more pressured and anxious until it reached a point where it snapped and grabbed the microphone.

What is always so shocking is how alien the snapping is. It is like bumping into a glass door you didn’t know was there. It sends you bouncing backward a bit winded.
That’s the thing about unconsciousness, I bump into it because I can’t see it. 
And while you would think that becoming conscious is something to celebrate a different dynamic can occur. 
Other unconscious parts can rush in and start judging what has happened. 
This is the time to use superconsciousness or love, and instead of remorse, regret, and recapitulation, recognise that I am a little bit more conscious now than I was before. 
The action of life has, like the sea, eroded some more of my unconsciousness away and made a bit more space for my true nature to shine through.  
And that is cause for celebration.


Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash


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