This a thing that makes me nuts. We are told over and over again, “Do not get invovled.” “It is not your business.” “This does not concern you.” “Don’t raise a rucus.” “Do not go against the grain.” “Keep your head down.” (this last a very in-the-trenches-war-reference. Because your life IS in danger.) “If you tell her he is cheating on her she will only get angry with you.”
Each of these admonishments are WRONG on all counts.
If I, you, they, and we do not get involved then, they win. More to the point, WE loose. Is this what we wanted? Did we intend to allow them to intimidate us into submission? Because, by not getting involved we have not just allowed them to take over, we walked right up to them and handed them the bright, shiny, gold covered, jewel encrusted key to the city of our souls.
Consider this new phrase, “They beat us into Quran.” What? You did not know the literal translation of Quran into English/Angleet means submit? Surprise, it does.
As long as one submits one no longer has to think about things. You no longer have to consider the purpose. You don’t have to consider the meaning, the impact, the results, or conclusions that can be drawn from a statement, response or action. One no longer has to think at all.
Wow, it is easy to submit. Give up. Let someone else do all the work. You will just be a good little worker Bee. You no longer have to use your brain. You do “not have to go against the grain.” You do not have to take any risks. No risks. “No pain no gain.” “No risk no reward.” “Ah, the sweet life.” But, is it so sweet?
these concepts are in a duel I grant you. However, it seems to me that the greatest historical figures, good and bad, took risks. They literally put their necks on the line across the guillotine. They stuck their necks out so you would not have to. What did you, we, or I do to help them help us?
I have so many questions. The only answers I seem to come up with are the ones that force me to put my neck on the line. I usually get my head (figuratively speaking, of course, otherwise how else would I be writing this blog.) chopped off. I am a looser. Sad, but, true.
In the Game of Life I loose. A lot. Even when I am right, somehow it all goes wrong. I know I am partly to blame. I wish I were one of those people who were charming, and self-confident, and fiercely independent without being fiercely frightening or off-putting. I am off course in my discourse.
You see it is Yom Kippur. A time of year when we Jews consider our past behaviors, their impact on others, and upon ourselves. A time of year when we try to make amends directly to those we harmed. I would say very Alcoholics Anonymous of us Jews. But, really that 8th Step is very Jewish of AA. We do not get to bypass the person(s) whom we hurt. Either intentionally or unintentionally. We do not get to sit in a closed little box where all the bad stuff is locked inside and shared with no one or one other person, unidentified, who cannot truly offer the offender the forgiveness they need and the forgiveness or not of the one that was actually harmed. It is a painful and humbling experience to have to stand in front of the actual person you have harmed and then, ask for their forgiveness.
At this point they have choices. They can ignore me, as if I am the insignificant worm on the wet sidewalk after a warm summer rain that is slithering out-of-the-way unnoticed. They can look me straight in the eyes and say nothing with their voice. Though, their demeanor will be a crush of sound and information. They can yell at me all the vile, awful, desultory thoughts that have built up in that section of their brain labeled ‘her’ and let them flow. They can say, “Thank you.” Thus, acknowledging the offer of apology but, not resetting the relationship to its prior status. It seems only the very strong actually are able to accept an apology, an offer from an offender that they see true remorse and allow it to be removed from me as a wet wipe washes a baby’s dirty behind.
The weak simply say, “Oh, that’s ok.” Not meaning a word of it. But, not wanting to “make a scene” or be seen as too harsh or unforgiving. Even though, it is pretty clear they have now taken up the mantle of my hurting them onto their own shoulders where they carry it into this spacious room inside the luxury apartment house inside their head. This apartment building or complex is luxurious as they have now given me and my hurtful action free rent inside their head. Now, it is no longer me deriding them. It is the me they formed inside their head that speaks the derision directed at them, and them alone. Silently in the deafening expanse of this free-living space inside their head.
Yom Kippur is a very difficult time of year. It is difficult in terms of my relationship with myself. I am notorious in my own head for berating me over dumb, insensitive, and thoughtless statements I know I have made over the year. This last year I had one that bothered me for months before I had to finally contact the person I hurt and offer my apology. My words and tone were thoughtless to her at a time of deep sorrow in her life. While trying to be helpful I was anything but. It bothered me day and night. Until I contacted her directly to take responsibility for my statements. I have not heard back from her. I do not know whether she forgives me. Maybe because I have not heard back she has not been able to forgive the burden I added to her already painful load. I do hope she is able to get past my stupidity.
Either way, I know I finally did do the right thing. I took responsibility for my actions. It made me feel less like the dregs of the earth I had been wallowing in for those several months. I know that some day this once and future friend of mine will be able to let go of the pain of my arrogance. She is that kind of person. She is a loving, fun, intelligent, strong, and independent woman . She is one of the women I want to be like when I grow up.
Wow, I don’t think I even know what train station I pulled out of today. I ain’t just off track I think I have lost the caboose!