The Conflict Fly: A Lesson


Ah, Spring is here. How can I tell? A fly, the size of a gerbil with wings, was buzzing around the garage today. From there, these filthy creatures often get inside the house. And then I hunt them like Osama. So, the garage is where I make my stand like Afghanistan. Or Pakistan, to make the parallel reference correct.

I get much too fired up about flies. Unlike terrorists, I shouldn't be so uptight about a fly in the house. I am usually pretty chill about most things but these flies really rattle me when they buzz around the domicile. Lina, my wife, finds it amusing, to see me so annoyed. Probably some psychological projection onto the fly of all of life's little irritants that buzz around my head perpetually which I am really in denial about.  

I got in combat mode today, armed with my sandals, seeking to squash the fly like sandwich baloney, in the garage. And then it hit me. Why don't I just open the back door and let the winged nasty go out as it came in?  I manned the door to try and keep out other flies, and waited to see if the fly would leave. He did. That saved me a lot of hassle and aggravation. It took all of ten seconds, rather that five to ten feverish minutes of the hunt.

There was a lesson here. We should always be inclined to open the door on problems and show light, a way out, requiring a lot less conflict. We have to disengage the ego and decide if the fight is worth it. Some fights are, most are not. Let it fly away. Then close the door.        

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