According to society and every health care professional I deal with, I’m supposed to be setting goals. I guess that it’s what healthy people do with their lives, just like shaving my face every day and showering and eating meals and getting out of bed. Thankfully, growing beards and dressing like a slob are the norm for men these days so I can pass off to most people. At the very least it keeps them from worrying about me too much. Today, for example, I made it out to my old work to have a coffee and write this. My mother sees this as a good thing but in reality I’m pushing away from her and just needed to get the hell out of our shared space before I freaked out. This is not a healthy coping mechanism. On the way home I will be stopping by the store to pick up food binge ammunition because, as I found out last night, no matter how much I love turkey stuffing it doesn’t temporarily fill the void in my soul the way Little Debbie snack cakes do.
I am simply coping, in any way I can to make it from one moment to the next. I have things I’d love to do, things I’d love to accomplish but setting them as goals seems like a monumental task these days. But why should I be forced to do what society wants of me at a time when simply going out for coffee is rolling the dice as to whether I will live to see my birthday or if I’ll catch the virus and die with a tube shoved down my throat. Survival is my agreement to life’s terms and conditions, until it revokes its side of the contract and cuts me down.
Perhaps fate agrees with me. As if I was getting a sign from above, a firetruck just sped past the window with its lights and siren begging for me to notice it. Life and survival are far more tenuous than what most people will admit. Whether it be by my own hand or the universe deciding it’s my time to leave, that loaded dump truck will eventually hit us all, at any time.
Sitting here writing this seems like a futile effort to convince myself that something of me can survive beyond the rotting of my body and soul. I’m not Robin Williams, Descartes, or anyone else who will be remembered long after they have gone. I’m just a man trying to get from one moment to the next and perhaps that is the only way to honestly live a person’s life in this world. For years, mankind tried to find a way to leave something of themselves behind, to change the world in some way, leaving themselves a legacy and where has that gotten us. The world is literally developing a fever, which we are responsible for, as it tries to rid itself of the vermin which threaten the existence of every other life form upon it. I can’t be the only person wondering if humans, in any way, deserve to remain.
So, if the here and now is all we have and is likely all we deserve why am I bothering to plan for anything else. What are the purposes of goals in an existence such as ours? Why do we need something to forward to, something beyond what and who we are in the here and now? Shouldn’t we be focusing on the here and now and the effect we can have on the lives of others instead of our own personal goals?
What if simply choosing kindness could be the goal we set for ourselves. Kindness towards ourselves and others could be a great place to begin and end our lives yet it seems so difficult for so many. Working around one’s inherent selfishness, self importance, and self preservation is an impossibility for many, based on what I see on a daily basis. People refusing to wear a mask during a pandemic which aids the health of those around you because it infringes on their own rights. When did treating people in the service industry like equals become something which deserves praise rather than simply being the way it should be? I don’t claim to be the King of Kindness by any means, especially when I am battling my inner demons but perhaps it is the acknowledgment of those demons which makes me see others as deserving of respect. I know that seeing myself in a negative light makes me feel like I need to treat others like they are better than I am. Is that too much? Do we really need to see others as superior or simply as equals for kindness to take over? Is that why we’ve been fighting for equality for so long, because some people just don’t want to feel they are equal to those around them or is it a need for superiority. Surely there are many who fall into the latter category but how many people could extend true kindness to their fellow man simply by seeing their fellow man as a peer?
The prevalence and success of much reality TV content tells me that the number of people willing to accept that they are equal to those around them is in the minority. We are too quick to seek the flaws in those around us and far too ready to celebrate them. Shows which focus on the negatives that people are going through or celebrate the seedier sides of people’s personalities are far too prevalent to expect that humanity can, at least in the near future, come to a place of understanding amongst ourselves.
So why do I have to try to treat myself with the kindness that we can’t even extend to each other?
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