We bridle our anger when we stop answering questions we haven’t been asked.
A point of view is utterly benign, as natural as a pelican on a post. Opinions are different. An opinion is an urgent, opportunistic malevolency, a gimlet-eyed mental formation spoiling for a fight.
Life has no regrets. Trees and flowers don’t regret. There are lots of things I can do to waste time. I can twiddle my thumbs, whittle a stick, cultivate opinions, or regret something.
The flames of anger are fed by a man’s ideas and opinions. Once these are eliminated, he’s fine. Birds will perch on his forefinger looking for treats.
We do not easily (or ever!) divest ourselves of our opinions. Sometimes Life takes pity on us, slaps us upside the head and brings us face-to-face with this: “I’ve been wrong about everything.”