I’ll admit that I used to believe I was the only person to have my own particular brand of problems. It didn’t seem likely that anyone else would have experienced what I’ve experienced. As though I was special in my own world of fucked up. But the truth is, no one is that special. People go through life with the experiences of feeling like they’re the bottom wrung, bottom of the barrel, rock bottom, butt related idiom etc., and are just as special as I am. And the trick to it all is grace, simply speaking.
Recent conversations I’ve had have unearthed this realization. The first was with a woman who was in her 40’s. She’s been unemployed for a year, lives with her family, and last week, her dog of 12 years had passed away. The death of a cat would be easier, but a dog… that’s real loss. Living with her family is a slap to the ego, and being in your 40’s only meant the slap was fiercer. Joblessness, well, most are jobless. My own peers experience what she is going through, fuck, I’ve experienced what she’s going through. The real problem is in one’s thinking that they’re at fault because they can’t keep they’re world from crumbling. The other conversation, same deal. They think themselves inadequate because their world is falling apart and that, to me, is the problem.
Because it isn’t their fault. Who the hell said it was supposed to be this way or that way in order for one to live? Who the hell said this is the only way to be happy? Who the hell said being happy like everyone else was the right way to live? Deep down, everyone knows that much of the world is full of trite bullshit with improper applications of hope in all the things that don’t and never have mattered. Deep down, we know that the unwritten rules were just that; unwritten rules imprinted into our lives sociologically. And if our subconscious tells us this, and our subconscious if the reveler of truth in our lives, why does one berate oneself for this seemingly external source of social inadequacy? The best and only way for one to build the world they deserve is to let that fucked up old world crumble to the rubble. They really have no real explanation for why they’re fighting so hard to keep it up once you ask them. They’re unhappy doing it, and they were never really happy to keep up the facade of maintaining it in the first place. Once that clicks into the right gears, grace happens and she’s beautiful.
Life is a loud foghorn, and our lives are but murmurs and whimpers in a different key. With the proper application of hope, not for the future but for the moment, one realizes how much time they have been wasting. We must remember to live with intent over anticipation.