The Roots of Laziness, Woven into Our Options

I've been accused of being analytically fanatical, even paranoid. I am very literal, sometimes overly logical, my decision making tends to side with methodical, and the description I give to my thoughts is visually articulate. I enjoy dissecting ideas, thoughts, scenarios, and behaviors. Much the way I enjoy taking objects apart, observing their inner working functions, and moving parts. With a better understanding for how they work, I find a deeper appreciation of STUFF in general. My mind tends to work more scientifically than one being driven by fantasy or mystery. However knowledge of science allows me to write more terrifying and believable fantasies and mysteries!
On the other side of the scale, I am very human, extremely fallible, I do have a tendency to stand strong in protest for many things that I deem unacceptable, many would find this fortitude positive, however standing strong and protesting that which has already occurred and cannot be undone is futile. Although I inherently know that this energy can be put to good use elsewhere, I frequently find myself stuck in the rut of what is that's unsatisfactory and how it "SHOULD" be (according to my distorted mindset). Achieving preventative action, being proactive in the future is my main goal in every new found disappointment. 
I push beyond what it is, and note all of it's unfortunates, allowing my vision to illustrate what I can do to improve it moving forward. The sadness comes with the feeling of helplessness when I am reminded that I am but one woman, unable to change the world alone. I am frustrated by my failures, saddened, defeated, and disappointed that others do not share in my enthusiasm to raise the bar, and take positive steps toward creating a better life.
I don't see anything special about me. I think I am a bit more intense than most that I know, but not above average or UNIQUE in anyway. I simply see it my approach to life as a pragmatic one. Wherever and whenever possible, I own the errors of my neurotic ways and do not put it upon others to have to exist within my emotional wasteland. When I receive positive affirmation, it's equally important for me to take it gratefully, without ego, and to not be placed on any pedestal or to be labeled as anything other than me. 

I believe human beings form (in our own imaginations) ideas of what everything "SHOULD" be like. Society does this for us through the media, feeding us what to perceive as the "Perfect Family" from Leave it to Beaver or Happy Days, to the Brady's, the Bundy's, or even the Simpsons. We believe our family isn't "normal" if it's not just like the ones we see on TV and we place unrealistic expectations on our loved ones without merit. We mustn't forget that every resentment is rooted from our own expectation.

We spend our entire lives searching for acceptance, kindness, affection, and unconditional love. When we have it, we find it, or it finds us, and we fail to recognize it at all, we are so preoccupied with our obsession with setting the perfect stage, micro-managing everyone's time and how they spend it, passing out scripts to every character in our lives. We are trying create the movie that plays in our mind of what it's "supposed to be". It is impossible to manufacture "perfect". We eventually find that we've lost what we had because we spent so much time telling the people who loved us that they are doing it wrong.

We fall victim to depression and lack any feelings of satisfaction when fixated on all of the trivial things that we DON'T have. In turn, we fail to feel even the smallest sense of gratitude for all of the amazing things that we DO have. We CAN adjust the ways we think, and we can adjust our perception, merely by changing our perspective. This is true for what we have or don't have materialistically, what we get or don't get from our families, in our relationships, from our education, employers, and with regard to the quality of our own lives. Striving for what we want brings us leaps and bounds above wallowing in what we don't have.

Material has filled this emotional void for so long that when we are down it feels good to get something, to buy something, or for some people to steal something. I am willing to bet that if you were to ask a 10 year old kid in middle class America to give you a mental inventory of what he has at home, he can only tell you about the stuff that "makes him cool" or that which he has and other kids only wished they had... I am even more convinced that if you were to ask that SAME child what he was missing out on, or what he didn't have that he wished he had, that he would give you a far more detailed list.

I believe we as a society have become so lazy because we are addicted to all the "stuff" that provides immediate gratification, from fast food, to the internet, to smart phones, to alcohol, drugs, gambling, shopping, and sex and so on. We aren't willing to "DO" anything anymore, we want everything at our disposal.

Why go to a gym and WORK out, if this pill can make me lose weight?

Why go to the library to do research when I have Google?

Why read the book when I can watch the movie?

Why feel my hurt feelings when they make a pill, powder, or drink so I don't have to? 

Why go to work when I can gamble or steal for more money?

Why do laundry when I can buy more clothes?

Why wait to get home to my spouse when I can have whats here in front of me?

My theory is that we [Americans] are entitled, spoiled, and often unappreciative. I attribute this first to EXCESS and then to that insatiable "hunger for more" we experience before we're through with all that we have in front of us. I believe that we are a gluttonous society and we've demanded more and more stuff and when the price of the stuff was too high, we've demanded more options, and now we too many CHOICES of which SIZE, COLOR, or BRAND of stuff we're gonna get, and just gotta have. 

When traveling to remote places, I feel a sense of ease, or even serenity. Or a tranquil simplicity that just FEELS BETTER. Our bodies and our minds have a way of telling us when everything is alright. Although I have no desire to go and live in a cabin in the woods, I've definitely considered a life of fewer choices, concerns, or so-called "conveniences". In fact, I find that I experience more anxiety and withdrawal from the world when I can't choose the best option as it feels like the best distraction, or the lesser of a multitude of evils. This is not at all because I am indecisive, it's because the options are all the same, there is really not one that is better than another. Then I find myself feeling dumb having even wasted my time, and wondering what I might have been more satisfied to be doing instead. That this over abundance of choices are of things that aren't even really serving a single good purpose, other than to fulfill my need to be entertained in my selfish moment of boredom, and that moment has come and gone already. As a result, I can't help but feel a little ripped off, angry that I can't have that time back, and suspicious that I was purposely diverted toward one thing as a way to distract me from recognizing the truth about something else. I don't talk too openly on this as they build institutions for people who do, and there is a vivid assortment of pills used to counteract this sort of thinking, giving doctors job security and (what do you know?) INFINITE OPTIONS for treatment of an alarming number of patients who believe they are somehow "broken" and are desperately seeking some sort of fix.

Taking Flight

As a continuous work in progress, I try to remain open to the things about me that I can change in hopes to achieve a more fulfilling and productive life. I find that birds of a feather often flock together. However birds that hang around in one place for too long pick up some hitchhikers along the way. 

I'm the bird who loves to fly, I fly with friends, I fly with strangers, I fly alone. I  am truly at my best when I am flying. I feel free; free of worry and anxiety, free of fear and free of sadness. I have no need to stress out about anything, all I need to do is take in the beautiful life I have been given. However this bird can't fly forever. I need to stop and refuel, I need to interact with other birds, I need to find birds who want to fly like I fly.

I find a spot to land, I introduce myself to new birds, I spend time with lifelong friends, I share tales of my journey, I listen to the stories of others, and I hear sad stories that touch my heart. Before I know what I am doing, I take the sad birds under my wing, I introduce them to other birds, I take them with me to some of my favorite vantage points. I share my zen-like appreciation for this whole wide world. 

The sad birds appear happier, they enjoy the experience, I think that for them it is life changing, and I must be helping them. I can see this because they continue to come back more and more to spend time with me.  It feels good to be wanted, needed, loved, accepted. I feel good knowing that I am the one they trust to help them with their sad lives. But each time they return they bring with them another chapter from their original, sad stories. I have become attached to my friends, they have spent some of the most beautiful moments of their lives with me. I have shared some of the most intimate feelings about this great life with them. I am wanting to fix their lives to eliminate the pain, I want to take them in, tape them up and nurse them back to health. Except, I'm no nurse! 

Their pain becomes my pain. I want them to experience the great days that we used to have when we first met, I want to see that profound change in their faces their smiles emerging from the deep frown lines in their faces. But that is gone. As they continue to return to their own lives and the sadness that rules them, I am frustrated and hurt, I feel as though I failed them, that I was helping them. The frustration transforms to anger, they chose their shitty life over this world of beauty, they deserve the misery, stupid fucks.

Like awakening from a deep sleep, I realize that days have gone by, weeks, months, I've been busy sulking about losing friends after wasting all that time trying to solve the problems of all of these wounded birds. I've become sluggish, emotionally weighed down. I don't even have the ambition to fly, and my friends are no better off than they day we met. They would rather stay there than move on beyond the sadness. I almost feel helpless, I've begun telling my sad story. Nobody seems to want to hear it. I feel so alone, and I have a small fire burning inside of my head, in the right light, you can see it in my eyes. 

There is no need for all this sadness, I pull myself up, I see that I've wasted all of this time and missed out on my life, and all of the great things in it that I enjoy, flying high and soaring above the stressors of life looking down upon them with a new perspective. I'm empowering myself again, I'm giving myself the opportunity to fly, and I am leaving all of the sad birds behind. I've let go of the resentment that I harbored toward them, they have seen a light at the end of their darkness, I have left the door open for them, should they choose to enter, but I am not going to go back and carry them through. When they are ready to end their sadness, they will take flight, until then, I cannot waste anymore of my life trying to bring anyone to a better life. I have hope for all of them, I wish to see them all some other day, on the other side. If I could do it, anyone can.