This time tomorrow, it will be another decade, another birthday, another turning point. This year is no exception in that having a birthday at a time when others are celebrating makes for leaving out the details of one's personal reality, for better or otherwise. It's not about age, as this has been happening since adolescence or as long as can be remembered. It's just too much at once: a birthday and major holiday at the same time, not unique to anyone who is familiar with the same.
So the celebration is deliberately a quiet one, known only by those close. Forgotten almost as soon as it's mentioned to anyone who might overhear, unless one is a celebrity. Still no regrets there. There might have been another child, though not the same one, who has been a gift and a miracle. As fragile as ever, who brought on the reckoning of another childhood lost, though not so much as others. Knowing the latter neither compensates for or lessens the impact when it's your only family, one's only child, grandchild, nephew, cousin, with their own precious life that passes in minutes, hours, days, and weeks that will not be replaced.
To some, we are not unique, depersonalized and labelled from the moment help and protection is sought. Categorized, stigmatized, triaged, stereotyped, profiled: our social conditioning, the biases of our respective environments, or simply social pressure, sometimes called 'politics', for lack of a better term. No wonder so many times 'no good deed goes unpunished'. In a different environment it's nearly impossible to imagine what happens to others, much less the long-term impact, especially early in life. For those who survive the connections and progression becomes very clear over time, yet those considered elders without awareness or knowledge continue to repeat history.
There is always something to be grateful for, yet for those whose loved ones are unaccounted for or whose whereabouts or state of health is unknown there is no peace. Not everyone loves children, not even their own; for those who do life is never the same once the completely unexpected changes everything forever in the blink of an eye, the stroke of a pen, an uninformed statement, all at once. Over time, there are many tears unknown or ignored, the source unrecognized. There are premature deaths, literal and of the spirit; personalities become completely different from abrupt changes in environment and exposure. And we wonder what is wrong with the current generation or the one before, as if it had nothing to do with the decisions of those who never touched them 'in any direct way'.
Perception is not what we see, any more than what we're told. The evolution of a spirit is only as good as its environment and support system in many regards, though not all. No child deserves to have their childhood taken. Looking at others through different eyes and listening to the words of souls without knowing where they came from one cannot distinguish between who is actually the child, as the most wisdom often comes from who is thought to be the latter.
So as the fireworks go off and confetti descends, the choice is to remain silent, for now.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Domino Effect
I know you didn't notice, unless you were already a follower; I did it again, not remembering the entry day until after the fact, one day earlier than the last...
A big struggle this year has been distinguishing where personal responsibility leaves off and outside circumstances begin, on a very large scale. Call it a blessing or a curse, love it or hate it, when not in the tunnel vision of ‘survival mode’, I’ve been alternately criticized then praised for being able to see ‘the big picture’. To keep that perspective, and a sense of sanity, I seek out to read or listen to anything inspirational and uplifting, including stories of those who have overcome very difficult odds. Sometimes those who tell the stories are not those who have gone through them, though rather others who have become inspired by them as well, who can insert them into a text to make a point. Still, they are not the individuals who endured the same hardships, though they very likely and have had trials of their own.
The media often knowingly shapes our perceptions, though individuals can become extremely defensive of being ‘brainwashed’, for lack of a better term. It is the very thinking they are fed on a daily basis, the uncontrollable need to pick up the daily news or watch it on TV that shapes decisions and judgments. The ‘extremely wealthy’ in our society are largely not affected by what controls the masses; in many instances, the former are the ones who also create the media. Not only today is the gap between the ‘classes’ widening, what most don’t know is the divide between the ‘Haves’ who have consciences, and those who do not. The latter want others to stay poor, and their discontent cannot be satisfied by any dollar amount, thus the extreme rate of their incomes being spent on material trappings, clubs, perks, ‘favors’, and so called ‘self-improvement’ attempts that often abruptly become replaced by something else if any real self-reflection becomes ‘uncomfortable’.
Resources and those it can influence takes precedence over examining root causes that affect and harm many innocent lives the media sometimes tells us with a shred of integrity are in fact the casualties of self-interested decisions several degrees of separation away. Too often, however, we are pounded by the ‘popular wisdom’ that others should pick themselves up by their bootstraps, even if they don’t have boots, or lost them to a higher bidder.
Going to a job one sometimes hates, picking up the paper and coffee, allows us to become numb to how that job, paper, and coffee came into existence sometimes on the backs of innocent children, women, and the elderly. It’s shocking to many that there could even be a connection of these ‘elements’ to each other. The ‘other half’ of the ‘Haves’ will tell a different story. Our discontent and everyday mundane ‘routines’ become an illusion, a ‘shield’ that permits the madness to continue.
We didn’t create the paper (but we bought it and read it, and used it as conversation at the water cooler so as to get along and attempt to bond with the coworkers we are ‘forced’ to coexist with, who make decisions about others). We didn’t make the coffee (but we bought it, harvested from the backs of workers that include children, women with child, and their parents and grandparents in underdeveloped areas). The jobs we hate we cling to, knowing that without trading the hour for the dollar we are much closer to those who reach out with a cup on the train we cannot make eye contact with. The pay that’s never enough is squandered on the ‘necessities’ of newspapers and coffee, to have something to do during commutes so as not to make eye contact with anyone, lost in our thoughts of discontent, reading all that’s ‘wrong’ with the world, in the paper, that we paid for, that paid the ‘Haves’ without a conscience, that we complain are ‘robbing’ the ‘Have nots’, yet it has nothing to do with ‘us’…
A big struggle this year has been distinguishing where personal responsibility leaves off and outside circumstances begin, on a very large scale. Call it a blessing or a curse, love it or hate it, when not in the tunnel vision of ‘survival mode’, I’ve been alternately criticized then praised for being able to see ‘the big picture’. To keep that perspective, and a sense of sanity, I seek out to read or listen to anything inspirational and uplifting, including stories of those who have overcome very difficult odds. Sometimes those who tell the stories are not those who have gone through them, though rather others who have become inspired by them as well, who can insert them into a text to make a point. Still, they are not the individuals who endured the same hardships, though they very likely and have had trials of their own.
The media often knowingly shapes our perceptions, though individuals can become extremely defensive of being ‘brainwashed’, for lack of a better term. It is the very thinking they are fed on a daily basis, the uncontrollable need to pick up the daily news or watch it on TV that shapes decisions and judgments. The ‘extremely wealthy’ in our society are largely not affected by what controls the masses; in many instances, the former are the ones who also create the media. Not only today is the gap between the ‘classes’ widening, what most don’t know is the divide between the ‘Haves’ who have consciences, and those who do not. The latter want others to stay poor, and their discontent cannot be satisfied by any dollar amount, thus the extreme rate of their incomes being spent on material trappings, clubs, perks, ‘favors’, and so called ‘self-improvement’ attempts that often abruptly become replaced by something else if any real self-reflection becomes ‘uncomfortable’.
Resources and those it can influence takes precedence over examining root causes that affect and harm many innocent lives the media sometimes tells us with a shred of integrity are in fact the casualties of self-interested decisions several degrees of separation away. Too often, however, we are pounded by the ‘popular wisdom’ that others should pick themselves up by their bootstraps, even if they don’t have boots, or lost them to a higher bidder.
Going to a job one sometimes hates, picking up the paper and coffee, allows us to become numb to how that job, paper, and coffee came into existence sometimes on the backs of innocent children, women, and the elderly. It’s shocking to many that there could even be a connection of these ‘elements’ to each other. The ‘other half’ of the ‘Haves’ will tell a different story. Our discontent and everyday mundane ‘routines’ become an illusion, a ‘shield’ that permits the madness to continue.
We didn’t create the paper (but we bought it and read it, and used it as conversation at the water cooler so as to get along and attempt to bond with the coworkers we are ‘forced’ to coexist with, who make decisions about others). We didn’t make the coffee (but we bought it, harvested from the backs of workers that include children, women with child, and their parents and grandparents in underdeveloped areas). The jobs we hate we cling to, knowing that without trading the hour for the dollar we are much closer to those who reach out with a cup on the train we cannot make eye contact with. The pay that’s never enough is squandered on the ‘necessities’ of newspapers and coffee, to have something to do during commutes so as not to make eye contact with anyone, lost in our thoughts of discontent, reading all that’s ‘wrong’ with the world, in the paper, that we paid for, that paid the ‘Haves’ without a conscience, that we complain are ‘robbing’ the ‘Have nots’, yet it has nothing to do with ‘us’…
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