Category: Life Issues (page 1 of 2)

Roberto Trombetta via Compfight

Fridays seem to be the worst and best of times lately.

The worst, because it seems the darkness feels heavier and the hope feels fainter.

But Fridays are often the best, because for whatever reason, my brain often kicks into another gear and I think about more stuff more deeply.  So here’s a rare installation of some the random thoughts that drip out on a typical Friday. Like today…

• There are racist charlatans on all sides of the political and cultural spectrum, including some I’ve been proud to help along the way.
• The best thing we can do as advocates for others is to model what we advocate, e.g., if we advocate for people’s health, maybe we should set a healthy example, etc. Extrapolate that out to whatever area of life in which you seek to influence others.
• The problem with clients is that they really don’t know what they want. So when they tell you what they want – and you do that thing – then they change it. The other problem is that they’re paying the bill so they pretty much are entitled to change it. The other problem is sometimes, they aren’t paying very much on the bill, so it seems a lot like unreasonable expectations.
• I really need some outdoor time. A good dose of a state park or a beach somewhere might be just what the doctor ordered. Or it might help me avoid the doctor’s inevitable order.
• The mornings seem to be a blur these days, and I’m not sure why. There’s plenty of interaction with others, and there’s plenty to do. When quitting time comes, though, it appears that the time has whizzed by with no recognizable features.

Tom Simpson via Compfight

This morning, I’m asking a lot of questions and not finding many answers. Questions like…

• Am I just being lazy?
• Am I due for a much needed break?
• Am I avoiding responsibility?
• Is there anything I’m missing?
• Is there something I need to do next? Now? What is it?
• What different things do I need to do?
• What do I need to stop doing?
• How can I improve my attitude?
• Is the Cynical Old Coot the real me or is it a mask I once put on and can’t get off?
• What if my best days are indeed behind me?
• What do I do now?
• How can I change my trajectory?
• If I quit one of the side gigs, what would we do without the income?
• Is the income from the side gigs worth the anxiety?
• Is giving up the side gig income worth a different kind of anxiety?

Frederick Buechner says we often build castles to protect ourselves from others and the outside world. But we soon find those castles become the prisons of our own making, that hold us captive and restrict our freedom to function as we were intended and designed. He goes on to say that the simple words, “Help me” are the keys that open those gates, and release us to our better selves.

If that’s the case, then the questions may help us get to the place of asking for that help.

Vernon Barford School via Compfight

I like to think I was too busy learning to be bothered with school. But looking back, I have to admit it may look like I was too undisciplined and too unmotivated. The truth is I was afraid. I was afraid of failing. And I was even more afraid of succeeding.

I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t reading. As a first grader, I was reading the fifth-grade reading book. By myself at a table in the classroom. I seem to remember my teacher, Miss Peggy, talking with my mom about moving me up a grade because of my reading. My mom demurred, arguing that my other academic and social skills were not as advanced as my reading. She may have been right.

By third grade, I had discovered girls and a love for writing. Mrs. Kight’s third grade classroom was world headquarters for the periodical Odd Sane Dog, a handwritten, hand-copied, and hand-distributed counter-culture newsletter. Well, it was as counter-culture as possible for a third grader in southeast Georgia. But there also was Molly Cannon in the third grade.

Oh, Molly.

Good golly, indeed.

I fell hard for Molly. Too bad for me, she didn’t give me the time of day. I guess the OSD was too out there for her.

In the fifth grade, I discovered the power of getting other people’s attention. There was the time I got sent to the principal’s office for talking too much about our Little League game from the day before. The principal had a novel way of dealing with loquacious fifth-graders. He made us sit out on a bench in front of his office with white adhesive tape crossed over our mouths. Imagine the looks we got as our colleagues passed by on the way to recess or lunch or wherever. Funny, ha ha! Imagine the look I got from my mom (who worked in the school office by this time) when she saw me like that!

As a seventh-grader, I became a published poet. No, for real.