There are times when my eyes open wide enough to see clearly, and suddenly, I am aware of my actual size. I am aware of how so small I am.
In comparison to so many things, I am aware that we are all so infinitely small, and yet, I am also aware how something so small can be so amazingly huge, enormous, in fact—like a child, for example—or like an infant, or like a two year old I had never met but donated platelets from my blood. Then of course, there was a small boy that I only met for five minutes, but yet, this brief interaction changed everything for me.
Make no mistake that life is literally the most precious thing we have. Make no mistake that we take this for granted.
We argue and we complain and we fight too often. We fight with each other. We fight amongst ourselves. We fight to no avail because we never seem to realize that no matter how hard we try, one ever really wins a fight. Everyone loses . . .
The time we waste is unalterable. But worse, the time we lose is irreparable, which means there is no fixing it.
There comes a time when we think about the people in our life, such as the people we love (or should I say loved) and then we look back at the time that passed between us—like say, two years or maybe more, and then we realize that we can never get that time back.
We realize how much we’ve missed, such as birthdays or holidays or special occasions that no longer anymore.
I can attest to this.
I can attest to looking back at life before an argument and then living through the aftermath—and then I go back and start to wonder, was being right really that important?
Even if my point was valid, was it really worth the relationship?
More and more, as I grow and as I age, I realize the power of words. I realize that words can either build or destroy.
I have learned that a joke might not be funny to others. I have learned that sarcasm can be hurtful. I have learned that an angry tongue is as sharp as the sharpest blade, which cuts deeply, even if we’re careful.
I had to ask myself, is any of this really that important?
I had to ask myself why my ego was so fragile. I had to consider where my core values came from and where the core of my subconscious programming began. Where did I learn these lessons? Who taught them to me? Were they right?
And more importantly, if I don’t like the lessons I’ve learned and if I don’t like some of my behaviors that came as a result thereof, then why do I hold on them?
What needs to be reprogrammed?
What needs to be wiped away from my personal hard drive so that I can begin clean and start to improve my boundaries?
I look back at the lessons I was taught about how to treat people. I was told to do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
I was also taught about boundaries. I was taught about the roles we carry. I was taught the difference between dominant roles and subservient ones. I was taught about the pecking order, which I obeyed and understood (to some degree.)
However, I was also taught the art of warfare. And to be honest, we are all taught about the art of arguing.
The saying “Shit rolls downhill,” comes to mind.
We all learn this from someplace. This is how we develop as we grow—whether we engage or retreat is different and whether we argue or we admit defeat, only to go and sulk in our lonesomeness and wish we said differently is not the subject here.
We have all been taught lessons. I can say that of course, I grew up in a loving home. I have a family. I grew up with a Mother and Father but this does not mean my parents came without flaws. This is where I learned my boundaries from. This is also something that flashed in my thoughts when I had that “Ah-Ha!” moment and realized where I need to make my changes.
There were times in my young life, which hurt me and scarred me. There are times when boundaries were crossed. There were times when although the intention did not match the imposition, still, I struggled with the traumatic aftermath of what had happened to me. Therefore, I learned my reactions here.
For as long as I can remember, my only goal was to believe I was safe. By the way, notice that I did not say “Feel” safe.
Notice there is a difference between thought and feeling. In fact, there is even a difference between feeling and emotion, which is innate.
Emotions are within us that range from the following: Fear, loneliness, anger, pain, and pleasure. Feelings are the branches of our emotions, which we base on thoughts and opinions, past experiences, biases, concerns, and so on.
For as long as I can remember, I wanted to believe I “Fit” and that I “Belonged,” and that I found my place in the circle “Comfortably,” and I could live out the rest of my life, satisfied, content, and happy.
For as long as I can remember, I have also had the fear that the above would never be a possibility.
I believed in the lessons I was taught. I believed the impositions I had faced and the wrongs I had seen or felt against me, as if they were fact, and furthermore, I believed that my perception of truth was certainly and most definitely, in fact, the absolute truth.
But no, this was not so.
We are all too impressionable. We are all too moldable and as we form, we go through life believing lies and thinking inaccurate thoughts about the way life is.
Sometimes, my eyes open wide enough to see that yes, things have happened and yes, things were wrong, but the wrongs I have seen and the arguments I have faced are not worth the time or the years off of my life.
Somewhere around the year of 2005, I met a young boy whose goal was to just meet the princesses at Disney World. I was there at a time in my life that was not working well for me. I was with my child and her mother. We argued a lot during this time. We hated a lot. We forgot to enjoy the most important things, which is the simple fact that we were in Disney, which is literally supposed to be the happiest place on Earth.
After a long wait, and after there was trouble with our photos that we waited for, we were moved to the front of the line to take pictures with all of the Disney princesses.
This is where I met a little boy with his Mom. I asked if their pictures came out wrong too
Turns out their pictures were fine and free. Turns out they never had to wait on any lines at Disney. Turns out, they had the royal treatment.
I asked why.
The Mom pointed to her son, who, by the way is one of the most beautiful little boys I have ever met—and then she said plainly, “Because it was his dream wish to come to Disney.”
This little boy never hurt anyone. He probably never even told a lie or stayed up passed his bedtime, and yet, he was dying fromcancer.
And here I am, complaining?
Sometimes, I regress, like we all do.
Sometimes I see the world I’ve created and then I look back at myself and say, “Come on now, Kimmel. You know better than that.”
Well, maybe I do and maybe I don’t.
Maybe it depends on the occasion.
I just know I don’t want to have an “Ah-Ha!” moment when it is too late to do anything about it. I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to lose people in my life anymore.
I just want to find my place, be satisfied, be comfortable, and be happy.
It’s hard to do this when my eyes are closed to the things I need to see most about myself
Know what I mean?