Sunday, January 8, 2012

How to apologize - lunch, Bonza rent-a-bike & getting connected

While my mother was here in Sydney over the holidays, we had a bit of a blue. (That's an Aussie term for a fight).
No words were exchanged.  I just up and left before desert, before I chucked a spazza (that's a politically incorect term for 'get mad').

She was probably feeling a bit miserable about it.
So the next moring I sent a text message. "Sorry I got cross. You ways and mine are different, and there is no reason you should do things my way. Would you like to go on a bike ride after lunch?" 

Sunscreen, as supplied by Bonza Bike tours

That wasn't so hard. And it is all true.
Just because I'm right and she is wrong doesn't mean I cannot say "sorry'. 

"I'm regretful that things are not harmonious between us"
Thats what my apology actually means!  She has no idea. But it doesn't matter. 
Every one alive knows we are all partly wrong and partly right, in mesures we would never be able to calculate.

And everyone alive loves an apology.
Nobody really teaches us how to do it, apart from the rare souls who give us a memorable one.
Words are a bit too cheap and easy, especially with shameless types like me.
Actually doing something for somebody, something that takes a meaningful chunk of time or money, is the way to go.
About 2 hours of our wages or time seems about right to 'clean up' after snapping at someone. 

So, my happy mother and I met at Circular Quay. We found a cafe, and shared a very big hamburger without relish, without pickle, without mayonaise, because she likes things plain.  All the condiments came on side for me, because I like things fancy. 

That's design to accommodate differences, before conflict strikes. 

I'm finding that if I apologize EVERY TIME I get annoyed, and make it a 2 hour apology, with flowers, cooking dinner, or a trip, then everyone gets better at putting in effort to avoid going crook (an old-fashioned word for 'get mad').

Yes, this is very Japanese. 

My mum, as we cycle under the miraculous Sydney Harbor Bridge

After lunch we got our bikes, and got all decked out with helmets, maps, scenic directions and sunscreen by the lovely man at Bonza Bike Tours.    
Yes, Bonza Bike Tours were bonza (thats an Aussie term meaning Bloody Marvelous)

I love it when people put my helmet on for me. I feel petted and 'looked-after.' 
We WERE Looked After.

We coasted and peaddled, and saw lots of nice things up close. 
Its so cute at The Rocks, with all the stone and wood low-tech buildings. 

I like that they are crooked and lumpy and leaning, which makes them organic and alive,  as if they had their own gait and calling noise. You can imagine them getting up and galumping down the street.

Some even sprout their very own miniature doorstep gardens.
There are many lovely things in this world, but life in an unlikely, barren place is up there with the best.

Apologies are like that, little miracles of life.

I've got another 60 or so years to refine my skills in this area.
I will be bloody marvelous at it, one day. That's the wish.

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