It's strange how some people can seem to be doing the right thing but can really irritate you and then you realise it's because it's for the wrong reasons. They take on a strut, an arrogance, a listen to me I'm doing all this, aren't I wonderful, so much better than them, stance, that they don't see themselves. Don't see that in so doing, they are becoming exactly like them.
But maybe we're all like that. It's so much easier to see the grit in someone else's eye than the boulder in your own.
One thing in my favour is that I am scrupulously honest with myself. I know exactly what I am doing and, more importantly, why I am doing it. And more often than not I know I'm doing things for the wrong reason. It doesn't stop me; just makes me like myself less.
It's too late for all this befuddled meditation. Sorry.
* * * * * * * * * * *
At Zac's tonight Jenny and I were trying to remember the missing line:
Little Jack Horner
Sat in a corner
He stuck in his thumb
And pulled out a plum
And said, 'What a good boy am I.'
I had to search the web when I got home. 'Eating his Christmas pie.'