A long rant....Excuse my venting.
The state of the world and the last ten days have been traumatic for my family. My life in the military has made me proficient at compartmentalizing just about everything, some times to my detriment. Today, I have to get these thoughts out of my mind.
I Don't care anymore.
All this bullshit, the news outlets and emo-media (social media) are pushing me away.
I stopped watching the news two weeks ago, and canceled my cable package. This isn't to live in an echo chamber of dissonance, but more to live a life meaningfully without the easy influence of bitterness and hate that seems inescapable today.
The silent majority consists of individuals not willing to risk social ridicule to express their opinions.
Politics is the new religion, constructing a reality that quite literally forces us to pick a side, disregard context and only see issues as black and white in all aspects of American life.
The silent majority are the vast gray area and dismissed and unacknowledged by both sides. If we continue to exist as individuals, we all we be subjugated to the whims and emotional desires the vocal fringe on both sides. It is the vast gray area that must force a sense of normalcy of balance.
I have decided to protest, but not by my unhinged manufactured outrage of a trendy topic or rioting and destroying things I dislike or erasing someone's life's work. Nor, by exerting my lifestyle or values on others. I will protest by using...my power of choice.
I know this is crazy talk! As mentioned above, I stopped watching news...I'm tired of Trump, BLM, protesting, riots, and coronavirus.
I'm tire being the cause for another's station in life, then led to feel guilty or shame for my skin tone and the perceived privileges I'm suppose to enjoy to the detriment of of others. The grass is not always greener on the other side.
Nonetheless, I did not get to chose my skin color, language, nationality, who my parents are or their financial status. I did not chose to have a racist father (whom I learned to love over the years) who has a little red book in his study titled,The Clansman.
A while back, he saw me pull it out from behind some books on his book case. I noticed the title, flipped through some pages, then looked at him, he looked back, said nothing, while his eyes said everything.
Since then its been hard to look my dad in the eyes. That is went it became clear we are diametric and at core very different people. Its painful to say this, I'm glad I am not him.
Last week my father's older brother passed away.
For the first time in my life, I watched my father cry as he reminiscence about their childhood in the 1950s. He said the defining moment of uncle's life was a health condition he had as a kid that is similar to Polio causing lower extremity paralysis. Uncle lost his ability to walk.
My dad and his brother were ostracized for years as kids. I think my uncle handled it the best way he could and kept positive. It was my dad, who suffered emotionally. Dad was kicked out of school sports, and organizations, treated like shit because of his brother's condition.
Eventually, things went back to normal, my uncle regained the use of his legs, and the experience made him an creditably compassionate person; very warm and friendly to everyone he meets...he was loved by all.
My father became hard, hyper critical and of all. My uncle's heart was wide open for those who suffer. My dad...his heart is harden and bitter.
Yesterday, I watched my dad cry for the first time as he came to terms with his own humanity, and perhaps the source of his pain and the 'why' of who he has become.
My dad loves him some Rush and Fox News and surprisingly, he's stopped watching the news at the same time I did. He, like me, is tired of all the negativity and the religious zealotry of today's politics. He stated yesterday: "The news just makes you bitter and unhappy." I could not agree more.
Uncle's passing rekindled something in him. Hearing phrases like "letting go" and "put our hate aside" are ideas totally foreign to his identity as uncle's side of the family split with my side because of my dad's politics and love of Trump.
I hope his brother's passing, and he coming to terms with his mortality will make him a happier person, less polarized, perhaps soften his heart a little. It has made me question some of my beliefs.
Life is just to short to be bitter, to point fingers or to play the blame game, or not take stock of who we are and the events that have shaped us into the people we are today.
My English Lit professor, Dr. Foster, once said in her eternally encouraging way that we can, "rewrite the myth that is you." The skeptic in me always thought she lifted it from some obscure author...ear candy for the weak minded and lost.
Today, it doesn't matter if she lifted it or not. Its the impactful intent of it....that we, that who we are is not static and written in stone. It's not ear candy, its just a fact; we all can change.
At 76, I hope my dad can rewrite the myth that is he. And I will be his son by his side, despite his flaws and his little red book.
