I've been sitting on this one for quite some time. Every time I think I want to post this, well, sometime else comes up. So this is the day you get to read what I've been thinking on.
There are some violent waves thrashing the boat of society these days. Perhaps that is putting it lightly. Things are getting a bit scary out there. But let's be honest, this seems to just continue on on with each and every day. I think about my grandmother that has made the trip around the sun over 80 times. As a child she lived through the depression. She learned what it was like to have nothing. She lived through war, after war, after war. She lived in a home where she was made to feel wanted. I bet at the age of 18 she thought that nothing could be worse in the world. And yet here she is and she will tell you just how upside down the world is today. However, one thing I think my grandmother learned is something I learned at a young age. There is always another side to the story. I don't know when the turning point was for my grandmother, but I have been blessed to sit and talk with her often and know that she has learned through her years that we can't always jump to conclusions. I know when I learned this lesson. I remember being in my high school bathroom getting ready for practice. I avoided the locker room. I was trying to make heads and tails of my depression. I was trying to figure out what was happening in my family and my own life. I was struggling. I sought solitude in the bathroom that was not likely chosen. A teammate came in and decided to talk. I was just getting answers out and that led her to get upset. "What do you have to be upset about? You're life is easy." I thought - YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. It was in that moment that I learned, people thought I was being rude with my succinct answers. If they had any idea of the pain I was in, would they have spoken to me like that? I don't know. I never will. But it was in that moment that I began looking for the other side of the stories. I began looking for others wearing masks. The person that makes a scene in school is making a scene because they too are in pain. The person with the loudest shout has the heart broken in the most pieces. I became an after-school special. I am completely and utterly thankful that someone was a jerk to me in high school. I wasn't at the time. In that bathroom I wanted to let the dam burst and spill everything that was going on in my life. Each and every detail was on my tongue on the ready just to put them in their place. But how would that be helpful? Sure, it would make me feel better to explode. That would be it. They would know more about me, but they wouldn't help me. They might feel bad, which would have made me feel good. Now, I see that interaction as so much more. I can look at others with understanding. I can see both sides, or four sides! I don't have to agree with the other side. I don't have to nod and smile and let the other sides win. However, I need to know the other side. Chances are there is a hurt underneath that opposition that needs to be dealt with. My goal is not to belittle what others believe. It's my goal to speak in a way that allows people to hear me. It's my goal to hear others. I have some deep roots. I doubt that people would change my mind on any major issues. But I can at least have a conversation with someone. It seems that common courtesy has long since left us as a society. Is common courtesy too much to ask? Perhaps it is. I'll just leave my favorite bit of history here. Speak softly and carry a big stick. Hmm... I need to dig out my baseball bat.
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AuthorI have a lot to say about a lot of things. Archives
May 2023
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