“Gossip, n.: Hearing something you like about someone you don't.” -Earl Wilson
I cannot tell a lie, I have been guilty of rumor-mill-blathering on more than one occasion. Chances are, so have you. I think we all fall prey to this wicked pastime in one form or another. Heck, I read Perez Hilton’s column as religiously as some people read the Bible. Then again, I also read Ann Coulter. I’m diverse that way.
What strikes me as droll about this idle (and somewhat malevolent) pastime is that gossip tends to genuinely vex us when it is “about us.” Because it is only when we hear the end result of the rumor mill that we mount the white horse of morality and ride that high horse into the sunset.
Then again, why bother? I never was much of an equestrian.
Over the weekend, I received a warning. A cautionary tale about someone I had corresponded with, but never actually met. Apparently, that someone was talking poorly about me to whomever would listen, and my generous pragmatist thought I should know.
I appreciate a good pragmatist.
“Regulators, mount up.” My white horse of morality waits.
Normally, I can shrug most of life’s plot twists off. You see, as an author, I am skilled at writing people out my personal script. However, this time, the news caught me at a dreadful moment. I had just put my dog of 13 years to sleep that afternoon. I did not have the time, or the patience to ride the propaganda wagon on “Old Blue” –a.k.a. my imaginary morality steed.
However, I am no shrinking violet either…
Later that night, as I licked my wounds while swilling a bottle of red wine, I thought about questioning the perpetrator-elect. I started and ended about four different paragraphs in an email, and then shook my head in utter disgust. I wasn’t shaking my head in disgust with the words on the page, but rather, with antipathy for myself.
Why bother with this nonsense? I am not in high school anymore.
To go down this path would mean fueling the infernos of odium, envy and rumormongers. I would give them supremacy. That is not my style.
In order to try to drag me down, you would already have to be beneath me to begin with.
Ultimately, the truth comes out. It always does. I choose to stay the course. I choose to evade gossip and sidestep drama. I elect this, because I would rather be who I am as opposed to just talk about who I am --or who or what someone else isn't.
People who despise you and gossip about you are just confused admirers. They simply cannot figure out why everyone else loves you instead of them. Remember that the next time you start getting riled up over the town crier, and then…choose not to. The best kind of karma is the sort you don’t have to lift a hand to enact.
How do YOU handle the rumor mill?
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