I Waited For This?

The old adage “good things come to those who wait” definitely came from the mouth of an optimist. Being a pessimist, I have a hard time agreeing with this; my version sounds something like this “good things happen randomly, often with no explanation, to people who don’t have a clue.”

I’ve heard some people say, “What’s better than pleasure itself? The anticipation!” But I believe that sometimes the anticipation is the only satisfaction you’re gonna get. Have you ever waited and waited for something so long, you built it up so much in your mind, that by the time it arrived you’re thinking: that’s it? This is what I waited for?!?!

In contemplating the topic I found an appropriate quote: “If something anticipated arrives too late it finds us numb, wrung out from waiting, and we feel - nothing at all. The best things arrive on time.” ~Dorothy Gilman
Now, there are no absolutes in dealing with things of this nature, so it’s hard for me to agree whole-heartedly with Dorothy. But I will say more often than not, I have felt this way.

Perhaps I’m wrong about what I am, maybe I’m not a pessimist at all if I’m constantly disappointed in the outcomes of things. Maybe I’m a pessimist claiming to be a realist who is really an idealist that refuses to be categorized as an optimist. Okay, that’s way too much self-administered psychoanalysis for one blog (and now I’m more confused than ever!). Or it could be that I blindly hope for the best and that hope breeds the disenchantment that I find at the end of the day.

What is the remedy for disappointment? Any thoughts?

Words

From as far back as I can remember I wanted to be an author. Growing up I could often be found with my nose in a book whether I was enduring the hour and a half long bus ride to school, alone in my room, or in our make-shift tree house at home on the farm. That’s probably where my interest in writing came from. I loved writing short, fictional stories just to pass the time and was always dreaming of new plots and characters for the next one. Something could catch my attention and I would write it into a story, even if only a page or two. Later, I discovered poetry and by the time I finished college had almost 100 attempts at poetry composed. It was my goal to, one day, publish a book.

I never imagined, however, that the most meaningful words I would ever write would be the ones written in memory of my father. Significant and impossible. How do you express the profound impact someone has had on your life in a few short lines? How do you string together the words to contain all that embodies a person? A person that you’ve know literally your entire life, someone who shaped the very person you have become, that person who had a part in creating you. All words seem trite and incredibly insufficient. But they are the only tools you have. And they will be the words he is remembered by. I didn’t pause to recall my literature training; be verbs and ribbon principles were the furthest thing from my mind at this point. But we worked through the memories and grammar as a family even though eloquence seemed lost in the fragmented stories.

As I recall my aspiration of writing a book I realize that the notion itself is like a story. A story that was heard so long ago that the memory is faded and the ending forgotten. It’s likely that the childhood fantasy I kindled will never ignite into any action. The last honest desire to write something longer than a blog was way back in my first year of college. Since then I’ve turned into a realist and that optimistic adolescent has become jaded, less creative and more analytical. And in that journey I am able to embrace the fact that a novel pales in comparison to the eulogy that will live on in the legacy that is my life. Beyond the words, through what my father’s left behind, I hope it is a worthy story that my life will make.

Give.Live.Love.

To give genuinely exposes you to the threat of being taken advantage of. Sharing what you have takes sacrifice to an extent that is risky. There is no guarantee what the outcome will be. There may not even ever be an outcome at all. It's all so sketchy. But that shouldn't stop you from giving. You could get hit by a truck on I-4 driving to work in the morning, but that shouldn't stop you from driving to work every day. Results should never dictate our giving.

To be passionate about something leaves you exposed to being rejected and discouraged. There is little worse than the feeling of rejection and failure. All the emotion, the questions, the self doubt, the fear. But does the potential for all those negative things out weigh the benefit of caring? I don't think you can cease to care about anything at all, for the rest of your life. I just don't think that's possible. But I do think its possible to not care enough to act. True love yields action.

To love deeply is allowing yourself to be open to being hurt deeply. The more intense the love, the greater the pain that comes from disappointment. While this is inevitable, knowing that it is only a matter of time before you get hurt, doesn't seem to lessen the injury at all. Disappointment is only a small fraction of what can come from loving. And the bad doesn't hold a candle to the good love offers. It's love that defines us.

Without doing these things you're not really living at all. You're merely existing. Without loving, and caring, and giving, and sharing, you're not living richly. You're just taking up space. So I say:

Give genuinely.
Live passionately.
Love deeply.

Service with a Smile (sort of)

The question: Why do you find the same faces in service?

This is a question I don't have the answer to. I have some theories, but am pretty sure there has to be more to it than my speculations. Because if only those assumptions were true, we could find a solution to our shortage on selfless actions.

My theories:
1) There is a very small group of people that happen to be passionate about people (that is, people other than themselves). And since that group is small, you see the same people doing all the work in the many different service projects there are.

Aside: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has." ~Margaret Mead. Though I believe that quote, I also believe that if you have a small, committed group, after a long enough period of time they will get burnt out. Then there will be no one to take their place. And where will we be?

2) People are too selfish to care. They are satisfied with feeling justified in their supposedly already 'busy' lives by saying there's just not enough time to help. Yet the reason there's no more time is because they spent all their time on themselves, their families, their obligations, their work. Is there a theme here? (here's a clue: count how many times you see "their" above)

3) There are no new projects to help with. Okay, that was sarcasm. People are full of excuses as to why they don't spend time in service. But why does anyone feel the need to excuse their actions? Most of the time excuses are used is when something wrong was done.

Assuming these theories were true, you would think we could use them to create a better situation. To overcome a problem you need to understand why there is a problem. The problem in this case is that there are not enough people helping others. And that yields a ton of other problems I don't really want to go into. But I can't understand WHY that problem even exists. There are so many rewards that come with helping others. You feel good about what you've done, they feel good because you've met a need that maybe they couldn't, others are inspired...there are just so many positives. So I just don't get it.

And honestly, I'm sick of guilting individuals into doing things that are good for other people. I'm tired of convincing friends, acquaintances, and strangers to do the right thing. I'm fed up with coercing the richly blessed to sacrifice for the sake of the less fortunate. I'm exhausted at the attempt of doing it all by myself. And I hate the fact that I've mentioned "I" seven times in this paragraph when this issue is not about me at all! It's bigger than me, and its bigger than you.

The Illusion of Importance

Why is it that we often get so caught up in titles? RN, MBA, Col., JD, PhD, VP, Sgt., CPA, VIP. What is it about these silly little words that matter so much? They define what we do professionally, or our level of education, or accomplishment, or whatever, but they don't define us as a person.

I've come across people who are hesitant to share their job title out of embarrassment; like they've already made up my mind for me that what they do is insignificant. It seems as though that because they don't have a string of letters chasing their name, they aren't valuable to society.

And it's not only that we allow ourselves to be titled but we embrace it, crave it, want to flaunt it. And I don't get it! It could be that we want so badly in life to feel like we're important. We want to make a difference and be recognized for it. And somehow with a title we feel validated. We create an illusion of importance by giving ourselves titles.

Yet titles are just words! You go from one company to another and the same word that commanded respect in one turns out to be the word for the entry level position in the other. It's so pointless to put so much worth on words.

Good-bye Means I'm Glad You're Gone (p)

Those vapid eyes and rabid lust,
How could I thought to ever trust
A man with words but actions none
Wish I could say that it's been fun.

Manipulation’s an ancient game
Coincidence is, it’s your middle name!
You hide deceit with a charming smile
And ask for me to stay a while.

But I’ve learned my lesson, a time or two
And this is what I know is true:
To stay is pain, to love, insane;
Investing in you will yield no gain.

You can't hurt me if I no longer care
And I think that I am finally there.
So you can call me, write me, insult away
But you are less to me than a forgotten day.

Can a Girl Get a Date?

Why is it when you send your RSVP with a +1 that it's so hard to find a date? I mean it's easy to find them when there is no reservation required. But for some reason, once you commit to bringing someone other than yourself, that other is nowhere to be found.

It could be me, but like I said, there are plenty of people to hang out with on all these other occasions. It could be the event, but I don't even get that far into the explanation before I'm denied. It could be the timing, October does seem to be a busy month. It could be a million other things that I just don't get.

Maybe its time I admit that it is what it is, and call on my real friends. At least my girlfriends won't get the wrong idea when I invite them...