Quit Your Whining Already

I do not understand why so many parents are constantly complaining about how difficult it is to have children. Nearly once a day I hear someone talk about how they are tired, worn-out or just plain dirty they are because of something that their child did the night before. Seriously . . . what are you whining about?

What right do I have to tell parents to knock it off? Well, I will tell you.

Several weeks ago I was given a plant. Although it was a small plant, it was quite delightful. There were many little buds on it and it brought a smile to my face when I thought about how I become connected to it. We have sat on the balcony together and enjoyed sunny afternoons. We sit in silence while I read and it sunbaths some more. The plant and I . . . we have bonded.

However, my plant is on its nearly ninth near death experience. I am a bad caretaker, but a caretaker who has learned how easy parents of humans have it.

What are you whining about parents? Your kids come to you and tell you when they are hungry. They cry when they are tired and they complain when they have been in the sun to long. If they have too much to drink they make you change them. They tell you what they need.

So I personally think the caretakers of plants have it much harder. We should salute those with the green thumb. For it is hard to care for and nurture plants. They cannot talk. They don't whine. They don't complain. The caretaker mustly simply be one with the plant and know when it is in need. Telepathy is a skill granted to the few.

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In all seriousness, I salute you parents for all of the running around and nurturing you do. You do have a difficult job; a job that I respect. Here's to all the parents out there!

Judgmental Nonsense

What is it with people looking down their noses at others? Why do so many feel the need to sit up upon a pedestal (that they so often do not deserve) and judge others?

I have a job. I could judge those who are unemployed. I have a good income. I could judge those who are poor. I have a wonderful fiancee, I could judge those who are alone. But I do not.

Who I am to sit in judgment of another? Who am I to think that I know so much about how life should be lived, or what others are going through, that I am competent and capable of passing non biased judgment of others.

So many people think that they know a lot about the situations of others when they pass judgment. They think that the person living on the street is just too lazy to get a job, or that the worker at McDonald's is not bright enough to be working somewhere "better" or that the person not going to church does not have any moral or ethical guidelines by which he/she lives life.

These assumptions are presumptive judgments. We assume we know more than we do. Rather than giving people a chance and accepting them for who they are, we reject them for who they often are not.

Let's say we get past the initial judgments, then what? Often we come to some twisted realization that our lifestyle is better than someone else's. Really? How do we know? Who died and made us the arbiter or what is the right and the wrong way to live life? If you believe that there is some higher power out there, isn't that his job?

I just wish that we could all allow others to live their lives. My lifestyle is very different than some of my closest friends. Yet, I do not judge them or belittle them for making "wrong" choices. Their choices are simply different.

Unconditional

Is it possible to love someone unconditionally? Let's discuss.

To love someone unconditionally is to say that you will love them absolutely; love them with no limits or conditions.

Before I begin my critique, let me start by saying that I love many people in my life. I love my fiancee (who just happens to be my best friend and soon to be husband), I love my family and I love my friends.

Does my love for those people in my life with whom I converse most freely and expose many innermost feelings to know no bounds? No. Do I think that unconditional love is even possible? Sure, but the blinders would have to been super glued to the eyes and the body pointed in one position to avoid seeing "things."

Let's say that I love friend Y. Y and I have been always been close. I lean on Y. I depend on Y. I want Y to be part of my life for many years to come. Does that fondness mean that there is nothing Y could do to deteriorate our relationship or make me question my affection? No. I think that Y could potentially do something to hurt our relationship (thus, in my mind, making the relationship conditional). To take my argument to the extreme, let's say that Y tried to kill me. Would I still love Y? That would probably depend on the situation, but the relationship would certainly suffer. If Y stole from me I would question our relationship. If Y beat me, I would question our relationship. In other words, in situations where I get hurt my love could be conditional.

Perhaps I have just been tainted by my past, but I think love is very conditional. We love people so long as they do not hurt us. We love people so long as they do not embarress us. We love people so long as they do not change. We love people conditionally.

Feel free to comment. I am intrigued by arguments on the topic of unconditional love.

Rude

I found out recently that I am rude. I was told. I now know. I am rude. Perhaps five years ago, rude would have been an excellent descriptor of me, but anymore, I do not interact with anyone enough to obtain such an honor. Sarcastic . . . maybe . . . but rude? Wow.

I am an honest person. If you are my friend and you have a spice between your teeth from the pizza you had at lunch, I am going to pull you to the side of the room and whisper quietly to you to check your smile. I do not want to see someone that I care about getting embarrassed like that. Does that make me rude?

I am a sarcastic person. If the moment is right, I tend to make sarcastic comments to lighten the mood. I try to avoid being hurtful, but if I ever sense that I have gone too far I apologize immediately. Does that make me rude?

I am a bit head strong. I refuse to let people walk on me just because they think they are more important. Although I am happy to help people out when they are in need, I do not think that I should be doing other people's jobs or duties for them. Nor do I think that I should be yelled at for things that I did not do. Does this trait make me rude?

As you can probably tell, I am at a loss as to why it is that I am rude. However, another post is forthcoming with more information about why I think the accuser felt the need to use this adjective next to my name.

Dreams

When we are little we are told that our dreams can come true. As we start to age, we are told that we should face reality and try to make something of the lives that we have. We are told that dreaming can get us in trouble. So many of us settle. We settle for the job that was convenient. We settle for the paycheck at the end of the week, even while we are sitting at our desks dreaming of what life could have been.

We give up on our dreams. We give up on our dreams and trade them in for societal expectations. I am tired of it. I am sick and tired of trying to live my life the way I am supposed to. I have a comfortable job. I have a job that many people would love to have. Making a salary that many people would love to make. I understand that. I get that I am fortunate. However, if I am going to be fair to myself I have to admit that this is not where I see myself. I do not see myself as someone else's assistant. So I am going to break with the norm.

I am going to study hard, take the LSAT, and fight my way through three years of law school. Will this journey be difficult? Yes. Will I wonder if I have made the right decision? Probably. Will I worry that I gave up a job I should have kept? Perhaps. Will I want that job back? Probably not.

In life there are things we have to do for ourselves. Things we need to do in order to discover more about ourselves and what we stand for . . . this is one of those things. Law school, how I have dreamed about you . . . Watch out . . . here I come!