Archives for posts with tag: don’t become the thing you despise

I woke feeling much better this morning, to the sound of the very irritating alarm that reminds me to take my morning medication, which goes off a couple hours after I am usually up. I groaned quietly and silenced it quickly, hoping not to wake anyone. I got up, dressed, and made coffee for my Traveling Partner to enjoy when he wakes, appreciative of the heated mug that makes that possible.

I headed out happily, eager to be on the trail, aware that my rare sleeping in and late start this morning means I’ll be walking the trail at dawn, enjoying the sunrise. It’ll be weeks more before that’s a regular experience. The bitter cold hit my face and filled my lungs before I even got to the car. It’s another cold one.

A sliver of moon, a winter morning.

When I got to the trailhead, I wasted no time putting on my boots, and wrapping up in my scarf, hat, fleece, and gloves, and grabbing my cane. I started down the trail with nothing else on my mind but the trail ahead and the dawn on the horizon.

My footsteps crunched along the frozen path. The frosty marsh grasses sparkled as I passed. The marsh ponds were frozen along the edges, the smallest of them frozen all the way across. The sky was streaked with abalone pink, and the air was quite still. Even the flocks of geese passing overhead were silent.

Further along the path, oaks stand watch.

I walked the trail without much on my mind this morning. Breathing the cold winter air, grateful for the solitude. Some mornings I walk with my thoughts, this morning I just walked, watching the dawn become a new day. It was too cold to take many pictures, and it was lovely to simply walk and be, focused on the moment, present in the marsh around me, without preoccupation or concern. The world can wait. These moments were mine.

I walked on, cherishing the familiar miles. Grateful for this beautiful place to walk. Content and joyful, and satisfied with my life as it is, and feeling a little foolish to ever doubt or feel discontented when I am so fortunate. I breathed the winter air, and exhaled my warm breath as a fog. I relaxed as I walked on, present in the moment I was living and feeling pretty good in spite of the humdrum reality of physical pain. The joyous moment seemed quite sufficient and then some.

I returned to the car, ready to begin again. Grateful for the lovely morning, the beautiful sunrise, and the life I am so fortunate to live. It isn’t “perfect”, but it’s definitely enough.

… Later I go get my hearing aids…

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.” (Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet)

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!” (a damned lie from childhood; some of that shit stings for a lifetime)

“That’s just semantics.” (A corporate management professional who should know better)

“I didn’t mean it that way!” (Nearly everyone, at some point)

Words and meaning – they do matter, don’t they? It’s how we get our point across (short of frustrated sobbing, or shouting, at which point no one hears the meaning over the volume of emotion).

“Use your words.” (A thing generally said parent to child, and potentially far more useful that a lot of other advice about words one could hear)

The point here is clear; gentle honesty, authentic civility, being “real” without willful offense, being truthful – and also accurate – seem wise and purposeful, constructive, ways to use language, on the “word delivery” side of things. I’m not saying people seem intent on wise use of their words, I’m just calling out the potential. We’re human primates; it is not unusual to see the worst of our nature. (I make this observation on an Easter Sunday, after reading new reports of police shootings in the US, and suicide bombings in Sri Lanka; we’re the scariest and most dangerous of all the primates, no doubt about it. 100% “most likely to destroy their own world.”)

I’m also contemplating the listener’s obligations in the face of some torrent of untruthful or hurtful bullshit, delivered in the form of words (spoken or in print, bullshit is bullshit). Clear, explicit communication is useful stuff; we sometimes allow a personal agenda of some kind (or fearfulness, or baggage) to nudge us away from truth, accuracy, consideration, necessity, kindness, and wisdom. Capable of spewing some heinous vile nonsense, we often also seem rather unprepared to deal with receiving it. What then? What to do when the world piles on, and we suffer the weight and the pain of it, feeling unable to defend ourselves, feeling compelled to try?

I’m not sure I have the best advice on that one; my tendency (and my practice) is to detect drama (or bullshit) and, if possible, walk away from all that. I attempt to avoid having drama-prone, hostile-seeming, or trolling-inclined associates join my social circle in the first place. I attempt to defuse discussions headed toward drama, explicitly, gentle, firmly, and without argument; I’m not interested in loosing the wild dogs of emotion in conversations that are ideally handled less passionately. I’m not interested in being provoked.

The world we live in can be exceedingly provocative, in all the worst ways. I mean, seriously? We’ve built a world in which people feel entitled to make their point by blowing up explosives in crowded places, taking innocent lives by way of gunfire, or using torture. How does any of that not provoke decent people (of all backgrounds and ideologies) into wanting to fight back, to insist on change, to reject the thinking that appears to be at the source of the violence? It’s a strange paradox, though; if we become the fighter, and take to the battlefield, we are immediately at grave risk of becoming that thing we so despise. I don’t have answers this morning… I’m just sipping my coffee, and noticing we have so many better ways to express ourselves, than by way of guns and bombs.

We could each do better. We can all begin again.