Life, or something like it.

This is really kind of strange. Here I finally have made time and provided myself with an outlet for writing, yet the words that normally flow so smoothly for me seem to disappear when I put the computer on my lap. I can always think of topics when I’m in the shower in the morning, or while driving to work, anytime that I can’t actually write down what I was thinking. Why is that, I wonder?

Earlier this week I was going to rant about political correctness but when I was done writing it sounded more like whining than a logical discourse on the extremes people will go to in order to avoid offending a small group of people. I usually try to stay away from political topics; there are plenty of people out there willing to cover all ends of politics. I see no reason to piss people off by adding to the noise.

Next thought was a nostalgic trip through the mid-80’s. While driving to work a song came on the radio that reminded me of a fun time in Junior High with Jenni Davis, Monique Renne, and Danielle Bird. So many memories of mine from that time are fuzzy at best but that one stuck in my head, mainly because of the audio recording I used to have of it. Listening to that song and remembering that spring day made me almost wish to be that kid again. Then I remembered other things, like being accused by my friends of stealing Shannon’s watch during volleyball practice. I’m still not sure why they thought I was the one who had done it, but life was not fun for a while until something else distracted everyone from coming down on me.

My point in the paragraph above? Sometimes we choose to remember only the good times, to the point where we see that time as golden. Really, there are good times and bad times at every age in our lives. What makes the difference is where you choose to direct your focus. I choose to remember the fun times from my childhood but not to the point where I wish to go back to it. I’m happy being the age I am. 40 may not be perfect but it is the coolest age I’ve gotten to so far. If 40 is this cool, I can’t image what waits for me at 50, 60, 70, 80. You get the point.

Life is good if we choose to live it. Memories of the past can be good as long as we just remember them, not live in them. The future is bright as long as we want it to be.

Random Thoughts

Random thought for the day – It’s hard to have a random thought on a Monday. Having a random thought requires your brain to work. Mine doesn’t seem to be working well today. Makes completing homework a bit difficult.

One question – Chocolate, good or evil?

Oh well, there’s always tomorrow…

What footprints do you leave?

I think the thought of the day is about trust. It’s not because of anything specific that has happened recently, but a dream last night reminded me how hard it is to rebuild trust once it has been damaged. I’m not going to go into any details of this dream because, frankly, it doesn’t matter. What does matter was the realization that something that happened some time ago is still, subconsciously, having an impact.

Trust is hard to earn but easy to lose.  One simple word, carelessly spoken can collapse a mountain of trust. Teachers are especially susceptible to this. If you think about it there is probably still something a teacher said or did that you remember to this day, that has affected your life and your ability to trust. That teacher may not even remember what they said or did, they may not even remember you, but that one careless comment affects your ability to trust even now.  

For example – a teacher, trying to encourage a student to reach beyond what they know they can do refuses to accept a homework assignment for something as simple as a line missing in a certain place. That student may not see that the teacher is trying to encourage, she just sees all of her hard work on the assignment down the drain. Instead of trying to do better the student may give up, thinking it is hopeless to try. One careless moment from a teacher trying to help a good student do better can ruin the trust between the student and all teachers from that point on.

The same is true of leaders in other aspects of your life. Someone you look up to, a mentor, someone you trust to be looking out for you, that someone says or does something and without even realizing it destroys your trust. The problem really comes to a head when you discover you can’t trust yourself either. You start to question whether that chance comment is really true or not. Maybe you really aren’t as good at math as you thought; maybe you really aren’t as good at that one skill you were proud of as you thought. That one careless comment can turn a person away from a path they were forging well to a safer, more traveled road that lacks the challenges and excitement that makes life worthwhile.

People think of trust in relationships all of the time. You have to be able to trust your spouse or significant other to have a fulfilling relationship beyond the physical attraction. How can you give all of yourself to another when you don’t trust that other to take good care of what you offer? How can you have a true and mutually beneficial relationship when one or the other is not able to give fully of themselves? How do you, or can you, recreate it once it is gone?

I guess the question I have is can you really rebuild once trust has been damaged? That brings me full circle to the dream last night. I thought I had worked my way past the trust issue in this situation but I wonder if my subconscious is trying to tell me I’m not quite there yet.

If there is any advice I can give to whoever might be reading this it would be this – Tread lightly and carefully. You never know what imprint a careless step might make in another’s life.

Welcome to the breadbox

What is the breadbox? To tell you the truth, I don't know for sure. The voice from the breadbox started in Junior High School as a poetry project and has just stuck with me through the years. I guess you can consider the breadbox to be a metaphor for life. We all live within a breadbox, what we choose to put inside it is up to us. Sometimes we hide treasures inside, sometimes we use it for the obvious. Sometimes we forget a heal of a loaf of whole grain in the back until it turns green and smelly.

Rarely do we actually hear the voice from the breadbox or pay attention to it when we do hear it.Does the voice from the breadbox deserve to be listened to? Not necessarily, but I really believe that sometime, if we listen closely we might find that we don't really know what we think we know.

What follows here will simply be the voice from my breadbox. Most of it won't be worth listening too but I hope to find at least a nugget of something worthwhile in the flotsam of my ramblings.

And I have to admit, sometimes rambling away can be entertaining even if it doesn't always make sense.