My mind is a garden. I lovingly planted seeds of compassion, understanding, and acceptance. The sunlight of my attention enabled them to grow strong. Every once in awhile a weed of anger, frustration, or resentment sprouts. I notice the sprout, accept it's existense, and understand its potential. I then leave it to whither away from neglect.   Last night a storm blew in, the garden became a disheveled mess, and I discovered that while that little sprout of anger looked shriveled and puny it's root was quite strong.   It was a short lived storm, but while it raged I still called someone I have often naturally and effortlessly held with compassion a two faced bitch. At the moment it doesn't matter that she is in fact a two faced, often bitter and angry woman who gets lost in the words swirling around in her head. It doesn't matter that she has been hurtful to many people I care about. It doesn't even matter that just hours before we had a conversation about these things being the reason my SO doesn't talk to her after she threw one of her emotional fits at me about him not talking to her.   What matters is that I did this. There was even a moment of awareness that I was about to step from center. I knew what was happening, and I still took that step anyway. I willingly and intentionally stepped from the place of peace to metaphorically slap somebody who is lost in their own suffering upside the head.   Today I'm back to watering flowers.