I met a man the other day who launched into a rant about a former mutual colleague of ours. This former colleague had done him a bad turn in the corporate jungle, mainly by stealing an idea and claiming it as his own. From then on, skirmishes had continued over the years until they both retired. Needless to say the offender had retired on a better pension and with a better deal all round than my informant.

As he spoke his face grew red. He became agitated. He began to retell stories of old battles, old betrayals, as his wife sat there with the impassive look of one who has heard it all before. For my part, I knew about some of these battles and betrayals. I cared about none.
It's not that I am a saint. There are people walking the earth who ambushed me in the corporate jungle and gave me a good kicking. I have absolutely no doubt that they have fatter bank accounts now than I have. But I have seen too much of bitterness to want to get involved in it – though if the good Lord elects to bring them out in boils I'll be standing by their bed of pain, cheering. That's assuming there isn't something else I'd rather be doing at the time.
Bitter people seem to haunt the corridors and canteens of workplaces all over Ireland and, no doubt, the world. Their grievances give them some sort of status in their own eyes. If the world has done me wrong, then I must be of some significance in the world. Sometimes, of course, they have been treated unfairly over some issue or other. But their bitterness spreads out and out to encompass the whole organisation. The original mistreatment gets lost in a general miasma of conspiracy theories.
Is this more likely to happen to men than to women? I've known more men than women who were caught up in bitterness but I've known some mighty bitter women too. I think, though, that we men just might take corporate politics more seriously than women. Again, as women move up though and beyond the glass ceiling they may reveal themselves to be just as susceptible as the men to corporate politics and bitterness.
Bitter people come across as very angry (especially if you're dodging around corners to avoid them) but there's a difference between bitterness and anger. Anger is honest. Bitterness ends up twisting the whole world into its own image.
And if you meet a bitter person there's always that niggling fear that if you say or do the wrong thing you will become a target of their bitterness too. So, like cowards like you and I agree with them, or at least don't disagree, and they go off as deluded as ever.
Does the bitterness end when their enemy dies? Probably not since it has taken on a life of its own.
What shocked me about the man I mentioned at the start is that he was so animated by his bitterness after all those years. I don't think he is a happy man and I think this is part of the reason why.
What to do to stop this happening to you?
The Buddha said that people who dwell on their grievances cannot have peace. To have peace you must avoid dwelling on your grievances.
Simplistic?
Okay, let's see you do it.