Sometimes, you can home again-from October 5, 2013

by And the White Lion Roars!

Image

The Great “Why,” According to Me

 
Yah, I picked a rather arrogant title, because the truth is that I haven’t a clue why. And I’m daily given to the despairing thought that sometimes it doesn’t help to worry about it, or try to change things. But autumn is a time for reflection, and I, as usual, have some questions:

Why on earth is the inside of my dishwasher dirty and stained? Especially the door, which doesn’t hold anything dirty, and is daily splashed with water and soap.

Why are there times when I am full and hungry at the same time? Does anyone else experience this? I’m not talking one of those bored times when I just want to eat to have something to do, I’m talking about a physical feeling of hunger when I’ve eaten and feel full. It’s just weird to me, and I’d like to know why?

Why do people so often feel it necessary to spell out simple, frequently used words to people on the phone? Do most people not ask when there is a word they don’t know how to spell? Maybe it’s just me, but sometimes I feel offended when people offer to spell words for me when I haven’t asked; why would they assume I don’t know? 

Why do Americans seem to be incapable of reflection?  From the visceral reaction to Vladimir Putin’s op-ed, to how insurance works, to the fact that stereotypes and anecdotes are not unimpeachable truth, why can’t we apply reason and balance to the questions of life and reach reasonable and balanced solutions?

Why do folks continually say that they are not “defined” by this or that very large aspect of who they are? “My job does not define me.” “My sexuality does not define me.” “My childhood; body weight; height…whatever does not define me.” Well, maybe whatever that is does not define you all by itself, but it most certainly does incorporate into the definition of who you are. And if it is what you are talking about, and then ending a tirade by claiming that “it” does not define you, then it probably is more important in the defining of you than you would like to admit. Being short, fat, the oldest of five, Leo, the first grandchild on my dad’s side, the child of very young parents who married as teens, etc, etc, etc, defines me. I’m not defensive about any of it because it is all a part of who I undeniably am, whether I like it or not. This is also true of you. Why can’t we embrace that instead of fighting it? And by the way, I like who you are, and what defines you.