Tag Archives: venting

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3 Key Components to an Awesome Relationship

Today Holden sent me a very insightful email that I would like to share with the world. 

I think the key to getting along and having a fruitful relationship with your spouse, family, co-workers and anyone else has three essential elements.

1. Look Beyond Yourself

The first element is, you and the person you are trying to have the harmonious relationship with need to be able to look beyond themselves. They have to be able to recognize their own bias and remove the cloudiness of their own personal perspective and see other’s perspective.

For example, I never realized just how boxed in and self centered I was until I worked at GISTech and really got my ass handed to me over and over by my two senior co-workers who were as self centered as I was. When you have three extremely self centered people who always think their perspective is the only perspective, its going to spell disaster, and I was the low man on the totem pole so I got shit on there and bullied. I think this might be where Stoicism could play a helpful role. Removing yourself emotionally to free yourself to survey the surrounding environment.

I remember I use to trash my wife’s dad the way your wife will freely trash yours, then I finally realized that despite everything I said being blatantly true and her feeling the exact same way, maybe I should just leave the bashing to her. I still take jabs at the guy, but I shouldn’t. I should just leave it to her, because she really doesn’t need me to remind her that her dad sucks. She knows it, she lived it. It took stepping outside my own little box to realize that.

2. Roll with the Punches

The next element is part reciprocation, part just letting shit roll off your back.

Sometimes people say things that really do not jive with or annoy you. You just have to learn to let it roll off your back, but the other person also needs to learn to reciprocate and return the favor when you’re being the asshole. I think my and your wife’s issue is that she doesn’t reciprocate well. I feel like she expects all of us to simply let anything she says roll off our backs, but she doesn’t take it well when we say anything that slights her in the least. Then I eventually get to a point that I stop letting things roll off my back, and she thinks I’m bullying her and hate her guts. I don’t really how to address the problem. If it were you and I we’d just tell the other to quit being an asshole.

My wife and I used to have the same problem, She’d take my bullshit all day, but then if she dished a little, I would blow up on her ass. Hell, it still happens sometimes. Its a lifelong growing process. I’m still guilty of dishing more than I take sometimes. Its just important that you don’t let me get away with it if I am.

3. Admit when You’re Wrong

The final element is admitting when you’re wrong.

When I do something really shitty (like punching a hole in the wall, throwing a tantrum… etc) I’ve learned just to suck it up and admit I’m a douchebag. Fuck it. I’m a douchebag. The first step to a de-douching yourself is admitting your own douchiness. Some people just can’t admit it. Some people really can’t stand to lose face or look foolish. You have to get over it if you’re going to have successful relationships. You have to learn to admit you’re wrong.

So, there you have it. This is what I’ve been personally working on. The lucky part of my marriage is that my wife just seems to naturally have most of this down and she’s very receptive to me just calling her out, as you are. I’m the one who needs most of the work. Luckily, I’ve grown up enough over the last few years to finally realize it. In your case, the tables are turned I think. I think you know everything I said above to be true and you follow the philosophy. The next step is just bringing your wife along with you.

Slipping Slowly into Madness

I hesitate to write this blog post. Usually my strategy in life is to stay positive, keep chugging ahead, and things will work out. By all measurable statistics that’s exactly how things are going. I have a job that pays well and is full of opportunity, I have a loving and caring wife, I have a house that is well on its way to being paid off, I have money in the bank, and based on pretty much anything else one might objectively and statistically measure success by I’m doing good. The problem is I don’t feel that way. There’s a gap.

I feel like an idiot and a selfish asshole for even complaining. So much is going good for me, but some days I feel hollow. It’s almost like a depression that I can usually get over in a few hours by changing my way of thinking or just forgetting about it. The problem is I’m tired of “just forgetting about it”, and I’m tired of this feeling creeping up on me. The conflict is horrible and it’s not fair for anyone who has to put up with it (mostly my wife).

Sometime this feeling effects my personal life too. There are days when I can’t even begin to give my wife the attention and love she deserves. I’m too selfish and too self concerned with some fucked up feeling of being unfulfilled. God it’s fucked. Worst still is that I am a master at covering it up. I can throw a smile on my face and make almost anyone think I am the most confident and happy person on the face of the goddam planet. Hell, maybe sometimes I am.

The Problem, the Uncertainty

The cause of these undefined feelings are hard to nail down. Is it my life, my career, genetic, mommy and daddy issues, marital, spiritual, or some combination thereof? I have no fucking clue. Sometimes right when I feel like I might have a solution or the culprit of my emptiness identified I realize the actions required to rid myself of those feelings are risky at best – stupid at worst.

Why does the human existence have to be so fucking complicated. Maybe it isn’t – maybe I’m just making it complicated. I don’t know…

Honestly, part of me is afraid. Afraid of making a stupid decision. Afraid of making the wrong decision – especially when my current existence by most people’s standards is pretty fucking good (see paragraph one). I wish someone would just say to me: “Do it. Take the risk. Do “X”. That’s what you should do and you will be happy for it.” I’m no idiot though.

There’s no magical person out there that can tell me what I really need to do to feel full to the brim with satisfaction. If I wanted that kind of lie I would buy a fucking Joel Osteen book.

Vegabond

Also, I keep coming back to this idea of selling everything I own and just traveling and working by doing whatever I can do. Of course I would do a lot more planning than that before I actually took the plunge, but the idea keeps falling back to the forefront of my mind. I haven’t fully developed a plan here, but it keeps haunting me. Is this common? Does anyone else have this?

Every time I meet someone from another country I feel like I become twice as informed. Just having the slightest insight into another person’s thoughts from another place is probably the most interesting thing on the planet. That is definitely a shortcoming of the American lifestyle, but I’ll leave that rant for another post.

What’s keeping me from just doing it? Comfort and the feeling I’ll be giving up so much, in such a good spot, for a big mistake. It could be the biggest mistake or the greatest achievement of my life. The problem: I’m not good with risk. I’ve been calculated and conservative my entire life, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m trading the security of mediocrity for the potential for a life worth living. Any advice?

Marriage

My marriage is rocky. I need to put in some work. We were married too early and been together too long. Sometimes I think that is both a lucky thing and simultaneously the worst thing.

To make things worse: I met a Brazilian woman while I was out of town at dinner the other night. She is 30, interesting, educated, had an amazing accent, eccentric, and was of course beautiful. We hit it off really well, too well, and I developed a shameful crush for her – and she for me. Those elementary school feelings will quickly leave and luckily she is going back to Brazil and I will never see her again, but sometimes I feel like being married so young to a women I’ve known so long has lead to missed opportunities. That’s probably the voice of ignorance speaking, but I know it is partially true. Maybe that’s a blog for another time too.

My wife is great and almost any shortcomings in our relationship are my fault. My failure to accept her for her own personality, my failure to give her attention when needed, and my failure to not marry her if that was the case. I’ve thought about this many times and even if I wanted to I could never bring myself to leave her. It’s the Irish in me, I’ve been told, we will live with something and be unhappy forever if that’s what it takes.

The End

This is getting long and I haven’t even read over it to see if my stream of consciousness writing makes any sense what-so-ever. I feel a little better and if you have bothered to read this far I appreciate it.

The Horrendous Cat Story

I like complaining about family, and believe it or not, I like to hear people complain about theirs! In fact, I’d say that one of the core elements to me and Atty’s friendship is our shared history of dealing with shit family.

Today I’m going to tell you about a stray cat that started a small war in my in-laws family. As you read it, you might think it sounds a bit like a cheesy reality TV show. If so, you’d be right about that.  Enjoy.

A new addition to the Family

A little over a month ago a stray cat showed up at my wife’s grandmother’s house. I think the cat was a little too clean and pretty to be a true stray.  I assumed yet another bunch of asses moved off and abandoned the poor thing.

My first instinct was to tell them not to feed it and it’ll go away. But then I thought to myself, “Eh, I’m not here four days a week, what do I care? Feed the damn thing. I won’t have to deal with it

As time went on, the cat became quite the family pet. Everyone fell in love with this beautiful, white fluffy cat. My older daughter especially loved it and asked incessantly to go see the damn thing. She never could decide on the cat’s name either. One day he was Wilbur, another Charlie, and another Tom.

After having the cat around a little over a month, he was pretty much the new family mascot. I even caught my wife buying food for it. The cheap bastard in me wanted to protest but then I once again thought to myself, “Eh, what do I care. I don’t have to deal with it. It lives over there…”

But oh, how the tides do change oh so quickly.

The Cat bit my Grandma!

Last Friday I was sitting at my computer. Fridays are my work from home day, and despite what anyone thinks, I was actually hunkered down in my sad, lonely little corner of the house working. Then I heard my wife on a call.

What…. It bit you? Really? But it’s such a nice cat…. Huh…. A tetanus shot? You really think you need a tetanus shot? Well I can’t take you, Holden is working and I can’t carry the girls with us to the doctor. Let me call momma and see if she can take you.”

My wife had been talking to her elderly, hypochondriac of a grandmother who will find any excuse to have someone carry her to the doctor. Immediately, my wife phoned her mom.

Hey, well the cat bit grandma. She wants someone to take her to the doctor…….. No, I can’t take her…. Well, if you can’t who will?  Yeah, I guess we’ll just have to call animal control…….. no, you know what, I always knew something wasn’t right with  that cat…………no, I said I can’t take her…… what, She’s calling you now? She KNOWS I’M ON THE PHONE WITH YOU! Why is she calling if she…..alright, I’ll just talk to you later.”

About now, I sat back in my chair and sighed, cause I knew shit was about to get dramatic.

15 minutes later my sister in law calls. She’s hysterical.

Hey…. Yeah I already called animal control…… no they aren’t going to kill the cat…… no they won’t put it to sleep, it’ll be fine……. What? It’s not MY fault the cat bit her, what do you want me to do about it….. calm down…..”

My sister in law is a bit peculiar to me in that she appears to value the lives of animals more than humans but has no problem devouring a bacon cheeseburger. I have seen the woman get in heated arguments over whether or not dogs actually do go to heaven! She would find a scene in a movie depicting a burlap sack full of puppies being drowned in the river more distressful than a scene depicting the holocaust.

Oh, and my father in law… multiply it by two.  Seriously, these folks ain’t right! -to put it in southern boy terms.

So, a few more minutes later and my father in law calls. About now, I’m pounding my face into my keyboard. I’ve not left the desk and refuse to acknowledge that I have any knowledge whatsoever about what is going on.

My father in law is all but screaming at my wife. The man isn’t quite right in the head. He is a truck driver by necessity because no one can stand to be around the foul mouthed, overly opinionated hick. The guy seriously has to have a job that puts him alone in a small compartment all by himself 99% of the day.

My wife hangs up and starts sobbing. I feel bad for her; after all, what the hell did she have to do with any of this? She’s just the poor soul in the middle of a bunch of morons.  I knew we shouldn’t have fed the cat.

So… lesson learned. Next time a damn stray shows up, I’m demanding no one feeds it and if need be, I will grab up whatever it is and “Re-Home” it.

-Hodlen

I do not speak to my Father

Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. I didn’t call. I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t remind my wife or say anything to my best friend. I thought about it a few times and let the idea fade from my brain until I was busy doing something else instead.

Maybe I could have been the bigger man and gave him a call. I’m not sure he deserves it though. On the other hand maybe it would have been good for me – evidence that all of my harsh feelings towards him mean nothing. I didn’t call though. I want him to know that the life he has lived isn’t okay and that he doesn’t deserve a phone call from his only son.

My Dad represents almost everything in life that I dislike. He abuses the system, he mentally and physically abused my Mother, was never and still is not a good provider, he is the most selfish man I have ever known, he is a drug addict, and toxic to everyone he’s around. The worst part is that he walks around with a since of entitlement like the world and everyone in it owes him something.

The last Straw
I think the last straw was a couple months back when my Mom attempted suicide. My Dad and me weren’t really on speaking terms then either, but I hadn’t completely abandoned the idea of speaking to him. My Mom called me crying saying that my Dad was seeing someone else and that she “wanted to go be with Jesus.” It was terrible and I was more disgusted than afraid.

After that incident I found out that my Father had been sharing his meth addiction with my Mother. They were both hooked and it made more sense than ever why she was so fucked up. My Father has successfully used drugs and mental abuse as a form of mind control based on insecurity and getting high for the past 26 years on my Mother. No I think its too late for anyone to do anything about it. I somehow escaped.

The Holidays
The holidays are approaching too. This should make avoiding family even more difficult. At this point I completely refuse to speak to my Father or his mother. She has harbored him at a motel he owns where he makes beds and does maintenance for rent. That’s also where he cheats on my Mother and does meth.

The part that most disgust me is that my Grandmother is on this holy trip. She is and always has been “religious” yet she has somehow justified allowing my father to live on her property, have sex with other drug addicts, buy and sell meth, and abandon his responsibilities as a husband. That motel is a compound of irony.

I will not be uncivil – my quiet protest will be my absence. Luckily I have in-laws who are excellent people and I have adopted as my family. That also make my wife happy so it’s a win-win. I will make a small amount of time for my Mother, but her inability to do anything for herself, her mental laziness, and her constant complaints are something I can only deal with in small doses.

Looking ahead
In years to come I am not exactly sure how I will deal with this situation. Part of me says just forgive them and move on. Let them live their shitty lives and let the universe punish them accordingly. It is not my place. The best thing I can do is let it all go and move on.

Another part of me says just never speak to them again. Forget about it completely and move on in a different way. However; honestly I am not sure which method is the right one. If I maintain a relationship with my parents does that set me up for more heartache and trouble? Does it give my parents more opportunity to suck me in and make their problems my own? That is the risk.

Either way this whole thing has taught me the value of being a decent human being and a man of integrity. I am thankful for that.

You have a Problem Child Sir! Medicate HER!

This awesome blog post is brought to you by Holden.

The last few days of work have been killer for me. My team is up against a tight deadline and we’ve been pulling insane hours. I didn’t leave work until about 10pm the last two nights in a row, and after work you either go back to a lonely hotel room where there is basically little else to do but watch reruns of crappy sitcoms on TBS or you hit the hotel bar for overpriced drinks and conversation with a lonely bar tender.

At the same time I’m embattled at work my wife has been having a meltdown of sorts at home. My four year old and one year old are being challenging- fighting, screaming and destroying shit, and as you found out in my last post, my wife is up against a bit of a cancer scare.

And to top it all off, there is yet another issue at hand, the quiet war being waged against my four year old and the endless, quiet suggestion that I put her on behavior altering drugs.

Would you prefer the red pill or the blue pill……

A few weeks back my wife went to visit my bat-shit crazy family out of state. I warned her it was a bad idea, but she’s a bored stay at home mom and wanted a change of scenery. While there, my mentally retarded, nutty ass aunt and grandmother pummeled my wife with their opinions regarding my wife’s parenting style and the mental health of my four year old.

Yes, my family whom we barely know told my wife she was a shitty parent and that my kid needed to be put on behavior modifying medication. This is why I live 500 miles away from these fuck-tards.

My wife being who she is took this to heart and has let it bother her. Now fast forward a few weeks to pre-school and we have a pre-school teacher also conferring her very professional medical opinion upon us, insinuating that maybe my four year old needs some help. I’ve been asked if her hearing is bad, maybe she has Attention Deficit Disorder, maybe she has this, maybe she has that….

Instead of my wife, the teacher, the family member actually dealing with a four year old the way you should (with structure, discipline and consistency) they’d rather suggest we dope her up. Why? Because this is the state of our sad, downward spiraling society plagued with incessant laziness and endless propaganda from big pharma suggesting that we need to medicate EVERY MOTHER FUCKING PROBLEM UNDER THE SUN!

The Spitting Image of Her Father

I see so much of me in my little girl that it amazes me. She is my greatest source of pride. When I was a kid, I had behavior issues too. I got bored easy, I didn’t always pay attention or listen, and when I got out of line my dad busted my ass.

Today, we frown on real punishment in favor of bullshit games and medication. Yes, we’ve traded hard love for pills and games. We are slowly hobbling and handicapping ourselves.

I only imagine what would have come of me if my parents had medicated my problems away, stripping me of the very characteristics of my personality that have ultimately driven me to go above and beyond in many aspects of life. It isn’t so much that I deny some kids (possibly even mine) have legitimate issues that might need medication to correct, its more so that I think we’re not giving my daughter our all and are instead looking for the disgusting easy way out.

How to Fix the Problem…

Ah… the golden question. It is easy enough to sit around and whine but what do I do to fix this problem? First things first, I need to chill out and calm down.

I’m on the road four days a week for work, I can’t change that. My wife simply isn’t the type of parent that is going to figure out this issue on her own, I can’t change that either. But I can try to manage it and create structure from a distance and be extra attentive when I’m at home.

This is a double challenge. A challenge of coaching my wife up to rise to the occasion and a challenge of giving my daughter the attention she needs to correct a problem. I need to create goals and tasks on how I’ll achieve them then attack this from the top down…

More to come on this in time.

-Holden

How to get over Mommy issues, Daddy issues, Family issues, and All other Generally shitty happenings in life

There I am sitting on the plane ready to take of to Dallas, TX.  My phone rings.  It’s my Mom and she’s upset and crying, again.  We are literally on the verge of taking off so I tell her I will have to call her back as the flight attendants are prompting me to put away my phone.  For the next hour and a half I ponder why the fuck I am stuck dealing with parents like this.

Is this some cruel punishment for something I’ve done to the Universe?  Of course I don’t believe that, but I can’t help but complain about the injustice in the world.  I have mommy issues while my friends actually benefit from having GREAT parents. (Then again I wasn’t born with aids in Uganda – that’s unfair.)  I digress.

Anyhow – I do not want this blog to become a place where I complain about mommy and daddy issues.  I’ve done that plenty.  If you want to ready about that you can read this or this and by that point you will probably had enough of my whimpers.  Instead I want to talk about what I’ve learned from all this grief and a lifetime of dealing with shitty parents that continue to plague me – I’m sure there are others out there who might read and maybe even benefit from it.

So here are three simple steps for dealing with shittyness:

Deal with it, Move on

When you have something bad happen to you in life you have two basic choices: Dwell on it or move on and enjoy life.  The trick is choosing the latter 100% of the time.  I have spent hours of my life stressing about what I am going to do with my parents (as a child and adult) and at some point you have to realize living YOUR life is the priority.

It may sound shitty and perhaps a little selfish and over-simplified, but at some point you have to look out for number one – that’s you (and your wife/kids).  Stop thinking about your depressed mom and your shitty drug addicted father and move one.  Think about how beautiful the world is and explore it.  Think about the people you can help, that are in your situation, and help.  Make your dreams come true – it’s cliche’, but fuck it, I’ll say it again – make your dreams come true.

Metaphorically Punch your Parents in the Mouth for being so GODDAM SHITTY!

It’s okay to be a little angry at your parents.  If you are like me and dropped onto this earth for no apparent reason to unreasonably shitty parents who squandered every opportunity – I feel you.  Instead of yelling at them, arguing, hating them, and even the risk of physical violence to have your sweet, sweet revenge – don’t.

The best way to metaphorically punch your shitty parents in the mouth is to just be happy.  Ignore there issues and focus on your family.  The instant you could care less about their issues and you feel at ease – you’ve won.  Then revert to the bullet point above.  Be happy.

Be incredibly fucking Awesome!

Sorry for all the vulgarity, but let me just say I have found that the best way for me to knock off the dirty build up of life’s shittyness is to be incredibly fucking awesome all the time.  Yes, I’m serious.

Pursuing happiness and adventure with a passion, living life so damned hard that President Obama would do a speech on it after a stock market crash to console people who lost everything, to be so damned awesome that what other people are doing means shit to you.

Invent something, write a book, travel, have adventure, love, build, help, and do everything else you always wanted to do.

If you aren’t doing that – then look at your life and ask yourself what’s keeping you from it.

My mom attempted Suicide today

My Mom called me while I was at work today. She was upset, but that’s not terribly unusual. She often calls me crying when my father and her have had a fight. I stepped outside to get some privacy and that’s when she said it.

“I just swallowed a whole bottle of Klonopin”.

She was sobbing almost uncontrollable at that point and the adrenaline hit me in the face like a hammer. I almost started to shake and I could feel my lungs contract a little because my body was preparing itself in a fight or flight sort of way.

“Mom, call 911 right now.” She refused. “Mom, for your only son, please call 911 right now.” She refused again and the crying became more intense. “I just want to go and see Jesus” She said. The crying became uncontrollable at that point so I hung up. I took a deep breath and knew it was essential that I stay calm so I could handle the situation; however I couldn’t for the life of me remember my Mom’s address to call 911.

By the time I was able to reach 911 I was informed that parametics were already on the scene. Apparently my Mother also called her sister. I honestly believe that her “attempted suicide” was more a call for help than anything else. She didn’t really want to die.

More to the Story
Oh, but the story gets more interesting. After rushing to the hospital some hours later I find my aunt who has interesting news for me.

“They found Meth in your Mom’s system.”

My only question was who is she getting it from. “She’s getting it from your Father – he’s addicted to.”

So great – though my parents are separated they occasionally share a few hits of Meth together – how romantic. I can’t say I’m surprised though, I’ve had to deal with this shit my entire life. Fucking druggies and liars – you can’t really have one without the other. My parents are both.

I immediately called my father to get the whole story because as it turns out my aunt is a notorious liar too. I have to be a goddamn CIA agent to get any truth out of anyone. So my tactic was to seperate each, question them, and compile the truth from each of their corroborative stories.

Not surprisingly my Dad lied. He first said he had no idea what I was talking about. He said it so convincingly I’m sure he believed it himself. After about a half hour of questioning and begging him to simply “man to man, level with me” he came clean. He has himself been on Meth for years and occasionally shared with my Mother. This is not surprising since each of my parents have done stints with drugs that they finally admitted to me over the years. My Dad, though he does Meth daily and will not quit, claims he is not addicted.

So here I am – a guy trying to live his life. A mother who attempted suicide today, a mother on Meth, a Father also addicted to Meth – and just wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with this mess. I have shielded myself and my wife from my family with a veil of selfishness – a refusal to recognize my parents’ problems as my own and continued successes in my own life. I refuse to bring myself down because of them. I’ll handle this shit just like I do everything else. If/When I have kids one day – they will never have the burden of their parents to worry about.

I think the helping my Mom to move closer to me is out of the question now, but we’ll see how this plays out. The idea of bringing that kind of trouble into my life may be worse that leaving her to rot in her own soup of destruction. This requires more thought.

She was asleep when I arrived at the hospital so I didn’t even speak to her. The hospital refused to wake her because she was “extremely aggressive” when they brought her in. More good news.

What’s Next
So for the next few days my Mother gets to stay in the hospital. I get to drive 60 miles (one way) to visit her and eventually they will transfer her to some sort of mental hospital for a week or so. At least I’ll have something to write about for the next year decade.

The Thoughts of the Simple Minded

I hate to keep bombarding the loyal readers of this blog with garbage from Facebook, but wow does it give me a lot of good material to complain about – which is also the sole factor preventing me from deleting my account and all of these good ole’ boys right along with it.

In any case, below is a lovely conversation between a village idiot I went to high school with and happily a few people that seem like they might actually have a brain in their head.

Yes, this is life in the South at times.  There are some good guys, some bad guys, and a lot of idiots.  Enjoy shaking your head and wondering to yourself if the world is doomed after all.  Just in case you were wondering – no I didn’t comment.

Continue reading

Evil by Omission

Mankind is flawed.  We have the tendency to exploit the less-powerful for our own gain, we tend to rule the weak, we tend to abuse those less powerful than us, and we tend to make mistakes even when we know it’s a mistake.  That’s us – crooked and flawed.

I know what you’re saying: “Not everyone is that way!” I agree and disagree.  Not everyone is that way all of the time (or maybe even most of the time); however we have all fallen short when it comes to perfection/morality.  I’m not religious, but one thing that I have always found true about Christianity is what the preacher at the church I used to attend would say every Sunday “We have all fallen short of the perfection demanded of us by God.”  If there is a truth in religion that is it.

The good news is we have a lot of good in us too.  I can only examine myself, but I know internally I have a strong urge to do what’s right and to make the world a better place.  I’m not sure why – either.  Perhaps it’s out of my own need for self preservation or some instinct for the preservation of the species – maybe something else.  I have to believe that we all have that in us; though some have become more adapt in ignoring that feeling than others.

But maybe that is the first step for all of us.  Realizing that we all have this duality of good and evil in us.  That we all live and walk a different path with factors affecting our personalities and decisions that another person probably couldn’t even imagine or come close to understanding.  That shapes who we are.  Those facts can also help us understand and deal with everyone else.

Maybe armed with new information and new understanding we can set new rules for ourselves and society.  One where we understand and empathize with those who aren’t there yet.  A society where we can do the right thing even when it’s hard because ultimately we understand that it’s the right thing to do.  Maybe this is just the beginning of social responsibility and recovery of a flawed species capable of so much creation and destruction.

Maybe we can reconcile our needs for self preservation and perpetuity of the species until those two influences come in perfect harmony.  The problems of war and famine from yesterday will become lessons we teach our children in the future.  Maybe borders will seem silly in the future.  Why we value an American, Canadian, African, Muslim, or Christian life more or less than any other will seem absurd - maybe it already does.

I see a younger generation, some of us, already headed there.  Others I see as devout as ever toward a cause no more just or moral as the very “enemies” they so passionately hate.  Maybe its a man living in a mansion while somewhere else a child dies or maybe its an art student trying to make the “big time” in music while forgetting, even for a moment, there are people out there starving.  We’ve all been guilty of ignoring our fellow humans, especially me, so how do we get past that?  I do not know.

What I do know is that until we can get the little things right – we aren’t even close.  Until we can get involved in our own back yards, all of us, and do what’s right – that hopeful light of helping those somewhere else seems very dim.  Do I expect a Utopian society?  Of course not.  I’m not that foolish.

I do know that we can all do better though.  Maybe that means helping out your Mom who has been trapped in the house for years wasting away.  Maybe that means donating a little time to charity.  Maybe that means cleaning up your neighborhood when no one else will.  Maybe it even means doing something big, because you can, and change everything.

Just do what’s right.  Not with words, but by example.

She doesn’t get it

I like Facebook because it really is a good measure of what people are thinking. That’s also what scares me, a lot. Take a look at this conversation that I was FORCED to comment on. She clearly didn’t get my point. Keep in mind this is a college educated women who is working to become a doctor – God help us all. My comment is in the red box.

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This isn’t the first such rant this women has posted online. So if you were wondering, yes, there really are people like this out there.

The funny thing is – I’m sure she didn’t get my point at all.