Wise Up!

"We can never judge the lives of others, because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation.  It's one thing to feel you are on the right path, but it's another to think that yours is the only path."

The above is a quote from Paulo Coelho.  I had never heard of this Brazilian novelist until I stumbled upon this quote, but I have to admire how well he has crystallized my own scattered thoughts on a difficult topic with words.

     I noticed a "friend's" comment to one of my Facebook posts. The comment made contained only one word.  But I, with my insane hypersensitivity, felt the heavy sarcasm in that one word.  I am being judged, and lumped with the "leeches of society," and I am not surprised.  I knew it was coming.  I just didn't know from who or when.  

     There was a time when I would have been just as judgmental as the one-word commentator.  Except my life events have allowed me to really experience the pain and renunciation to which Paulo Coelho refers.  In doing so, I would be incredibly ignorant if I did not recognize that others also experience pain and torments of their own, stuff that is kept private and of which even their closest confidants are unaware. None of us really knows what any other person goes through.  

     Even though I know that my early retirement funding does NOT come from the taxes paid by my hardworking one-word commentator, he does not know that.  Therefore, he sees me as a "lazy bum," and he mistakenly resents me for it.  Or at least that is the feeling that I got.  I bet he'd be amazed to learn that my early retirement benefits from a private pension fund are even taxed, just like regular income.  He also does not realize that the benefits to which I am entitled serve as a sort of "insurance," in place because I no longer have the ability to do what my years of training and experience are all geared toward.  A teacher does not simply go into another line of work.  Many employers simply do not think teachers are able to do much of anything besides babysit, which is not a skill set they are looking to hire.  Of course, any teacher knows that this is a misconception, but unless the potential employer has been a teacher, the misconception wins the day.  

   Also, teachers do not simply change school districts.  Once a teacher has so many years of experience, he or she is stuck right where they are.  At hiring time in a school district, the cheapest candidate available has the edge.  

  I won't even go into the questions that a 21-year veteran teacher would have to answer in a job interview with any employer.  Stuff like "Why did you leave your last job?"  Any answer, honest or not, is certain to scare away any potential employer. 

  I really hope Mr. One Word Sarcastic Commentator reads this, but I'm betting he won't take the time and luckily, I'm determined to not let it bother me.  There is so much about the teaching profession outsiders can never truly understand. 

   Anyway, back to the main point, which was my inevitable judging.  I tried to blame myself for reading too much into one word, but another comment came on another post which was a thread within an event posting.  

   My gut was right the first time, yes, he had stereotyped me.  When will I learn to listen and quit giving others the benefit of the doubt?  Probably never, because I know that I could wrongly judge another person if I did not give second chances.  However, third, fourth and fifth chances are things I have eliminated.  I don't have the time or patience anymore, and I've finally wised up enough to know that it's a futile idea that those persons who need more than two chances will accept me for who I am.  Best just to cut my losses and drop those folks from my life. 

   Just like Mrs. Frills, the only contact or impact I plan to have on Mr. One Word Sarcastic Commentator's life in the future is to pray for him.  I know he has experienced things I can never know about and he has a lot of bitterness. No one can be happy living like that.

   I pray that Mrs. Frills & Mr. One Word find peace in their lives so that they both can function in a positive way for the benefit of those who must tolerate them.  

   It's the least (and most) I can do.  

  

   

That's What It's All About

     I have spent a lot of time pondering life.  By pondering I mean, what is the point of it all?  We get up, we go to work, we clean our houses, take care of our kids, if we have them.  We go to sleep (or try to) so that we can get up the next day and go do it all over again.   When we get paid, we pay our bills and spend our hard-earned money on stuff that we need.  If we are lucky enough to have money left over, we spend it on secondary needs or the occasional "want."

     This endless cycle seems to be the norm for most of the people I know.  For years and years I have wondered what is the deal??  Is this all there is to it?   Why would God put us here just to do the same mundane stuff day after day, until we finally die?  What if I just can't do the same mindless song and dance anymore, then what?  Why do I think there must be some reason besides "just because"?

     I can't remember when I started wondering about these questions, but I know it was pretty early.  Probably around the time I had to write my first research paper in high school or maybe had to try to analyze MacBeth.  I just thought "What is the point?  Is this the reason I am living?  Just to make wild guesses about some cryptic messages that were allegedly cloaked in all sorts of gobbledygook?"  I didn't sign up for that!  

     Even though I was a kid then, the world still puzzles me in the same way now that I am a supposed grown up.  Most of the stuff we do in life just seems like insignificant nonsense for the most part.  

     We do these things in the pursuit of happiness, usually our own happiness or that of our immediate family members.  We do them whether they really make sense or not.  

     This is NOT what it's all about, folks.  

     It has taken me over 4 decades to figure out what it is all about.  It is all about your impact on others.  I don't want to make this a 9/11 post, but the events of that day in 2001 and subsequent stories of heroism and just generally being good to others and helping are the ultimate illustration of what it's all about.  

     There are other much smaller, yet significant examples I could give.  But I think my readers should spend some time coming up with their own.  Think "random acts of kindness." If you've had any proper upbringing at all, you know what this means.  It means doing something nice for someone for no reason.  Doing the right thing, whether anyone else will know or not.  If it can be done anonymously, all the better. If it's something kind done for someone you may not even know, icing on the cake.  

    Why?  Because your willingness to do so shows your true character.  Random acts of kindness are not done for recognition.  They are done to make someone's life a little better.  THAT'S what it's all about.  

     Pass it on!  

25-Year Class Reunion

     I haven't thought of myself as a very social person in a long, long time.  But last night, I had one of the best social experiences of my life.  It was my 25th class reunion.  The experience of reconnecting with the people that were my friends during the formative and sometimes awkward teen years was just amazing.  25 years later, and it really felt like we picked right back up where we left off.

     What is most stunning about that to me, is that most of us have been outside of our little isolated community during the time that has passed.  We've carved out a niche for ourselves wherever we have ended up in the world.  We've had jobs, careers, marriages, children, divorces, illnesses, and losses.  We've been experiencing life, disconnected from each other.  Yet suddenly, 20-30 of us are in a room together.  We are visiting, laughing, crying, catching up, and reminding each other of funny things that happened during high school.  

    It is true magic.  

    I am so thankful that social media has allowed us to have some way to connect to each other.  Most of us have been able to interact through Facebook.  We've had virtual conversations, and been able to keep tabs on life events because technology has allowed us to do so.  We've been able to browse each other's photo albums and poke around profiles to see where each other is working, who we're hanging out with, and what part of the world we now call home. We are able to read each other's posts and commiserate over life's frustrations and trials, as well as rejoice in celebrations and blessings together, even if only in cyberspace.  

     Wow, we are so fortunate!  We still know each other.  Reunions are a lot less awkward this way.  

     For me, social media has really given me an anchor over the past eight months. When I left my job, I instantly lost almost all of my day-to-day friendships.  It was mostly my resurrected high school friendships that allowed me to realize that who I am was not completely killed off with my career.  People have encouraged me through Facebook posts and messages.  Most of them don't even have a clue that some of their random posts were encouraging to me.  Some, unknowingly, have even saved my life.  

    This post has totally not gone where I expected it to when I began writing it.  That's ok.  This is my blog, and my thoughts can ramble wherever they wish.  So I'm just gonna go with it.

     I remember not long after I graduated, my dad said there was just something different about my class.  We seemed, for the most part, to have a certain closeness.  I know he was right.  I am truly grateful for this wonderful group of people that is the Class of 1988.  

     I hope the Class of 1988 gets to see more of each other.  I've really missed these friends.  I'm so thankful that they still accept me, scars and all.  Not one of my classmates who knows my whole story of leaving my career have turned their back on me.  My dad saw something special in this group long before we ever could know how important it would be.  To this day, I can't identify what it is that made us "different" from other groups of classmates.  

    For me, it's enough to just accept the explanation that my class and the friendships we've shared is true magic and I am just one lucky girl.