I don’t presume to think that what I write is really all that interesting. I don’t expect that people will read this thinking, “OMG that’s the most insightful thing I have ever heard, all my life’s problem are over.” In fact, as I write this, I’m almost embarrassed to consider posting it, for fear of seeming terribly arrogant. Like what I have to write is really worth taking up space on the internets? Ha!
What I do presume however, is that I am not the only person who struggles with the things I think about.
I do make the leap of faith that I’m one of many, “not a unique snowflake” and that I rage against the dying of the light just as much as most others in the world, only… no one really talks about it.
Not really.
Poets and authors a hundred years ago did on a daily basis and then we became cold somehow. The industrial revolution in the western world carried away our ability to think slowly and contemplate things like love and compassion on black smoke stacks, laying cold concrete in its wake. Electric timers robbed us, little by little; of an age when walking was time to contemplate; not to loose those ten extra pounds. We are deprived of that opportunity to question and imagine things. Like… what if the universe was inside a single drop of rain?
These precious, silent and still moments were replaced by power walkers and deadlines and 5am alarms and bosses to meet with bottom lines and CEO’s that all want to make money for as little as possible.
When you stop for a moment, you do remember that those that control these major corporations started out as regular dudes with ideas and dreams, and their dreams manifested into tremendous companies full of opportunities for others’ creativity. We are quick to judge these men and women, but truly, how are we really any different? That’s something to contemplate while you’re walking down the street instead of speeding down the freeway. I have no time for that type of contemplation.
So, anyway… in this world of anger, no time, nothing for free, fast lanes, drive thru’s, 30 minutes or less living, there are those that thrive on it and those that have broken away from it.
There tend to be two kinds of people in our modern society; Those that are above all the rage of modern existence and the angst that can accumulate within the common person’s life, doing what they can to help, or; those that just talk. They talk about others who are miserable, watching reality shows, listening to news radio and raise their blood pressure just by thinking about how angry they are, stroking their own egos as they spout their frustrations, living as voyeurs that would rather watch others fail than live their own lives.
There are very few out there that are willing to be honest. Tell it like it is, in their own minds, exposing everything to 300 billion of their fellow humans and maybe, just maybe… start a spark or two inside the eyes of someone who feels like they’re dying inside.
Okay, okay, maybe not quite as tragic as all that but you get the idea.
I really don’t think that what I have to say is unique. I’m just willing to say it out loud when many others aren’t. Maybe this helps, maybe not. Either way, it's here. Take what is usefully and discard the rest.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
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