Skip to main content

God, Everything Sucks Now



God, everything sucks now.  First of all, I just bought a new pack of underwear and they’re all too small. Every last one of them. I tried different colors and they are all definitely tight.
Not to mention the fact that Robin Williams is gone. Wtf? As they say in “social media.” I’m telling you, more and more I feel like it’s time to gird our loins. The universal suffering is nearly unbearable.
We are living next door to people who feel so isolated and in pain that they surprise us with the way they cope. The problem is that we don’t really know them. They live across the hall in our apartment complex or the next lawn over and we don’t even know their name. And, if they come toward us, we back away.
There are some basic tenets of the Gospel and of humanity that are grossly overlooked today, the obvious being that we are all brothers and sisters. And I think it goes beyond that. We are for some reason scared of each other. We’re scared of reaching out and we’re scared of what really getting to know each other might mean. 
Could it be some kind of commitment or getting close to someone who doesn’t fit our idea of “friend” or “neighbor”?  For some reason I don’t exactly understand, we’ve become afraid to reach out. We may be one of the richest countries in the world and most technologically advanced but we suck at love your neighbor right now.
We don’t want to get involved. We don’t want to get too close. We’re leery of what someone might want from us. We don’t want to be used or taken advantage of. This means we’re concerned primarily with ourselves and how every little thing impacts us.
Yet this is not our nature. This is not our purpose. We’re built on compassion, on the idea that everyone who lives in our country will be welcome here.  But is that who we really are now?
Take a look at our political system right now. We’re so concerned about what party said what on CNN last night that we can’t even move policies forward that pertain to our own people. There are kids in our country who go to bed hungry because our elected officials seem to prefer what happens on television to what happens at their house.
There’s something wrong here and it’s not the death of Robin Williams (although if his death moves people to look closer, that’s great and I bet he’d like that). For reasons that probably have much to do with the way we communicate these days, we’ve left each other.
Now we have to re-learn what made us one family to begin with. It probably starts with recognizing the guy who lives next door.
I will say now, these are trying times my friends. Everything is an extreme. Either I see beautiful initiatives undertaken by compassionate young people or I see crazy people telling me why they should control the activities that go on in my bedroom. There’s not a whole lot of middle ground right now.
That whole gird your loins thing comes back to me. Be vigilant. Be brave. Be yourself and be unafraid to touch your neighbor and to love your neighbor. You don’t know what he goes through all day and you don’t know what he dreams of at night.
  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I might need a price check

So my husband Chris works three days a week in America, and I’m trying not to take this personally.
He’s commuting Monday mornings on the 6:30 ferry over to Cape Cod, where he works at an upholstery shop in Hyannis, the Mattydale of Cape Cod, for all you Syracuse readers. I stay here and hold down the fort, cooking up a cocktail of frozen pizzas and mac n’ cheese weeknights for my poor Danny. Chris comes back late Thursday night, all giddy over toilet paper prices and quotes on cheaper rent.
No, no, no, and more no I say. I can’t possibly leave all this off-season quiet and high-priced laundry detergent. There’s no convincing me to leave no matter how many times Chris points out that there’s a Trader Joe’s “over there.”
I want to stay here until I miraculously win on one of those $5 scratchers and can buy my own house here. The difference being that I feel confident that I will someday scratch my way to freedom while Chris thinks we’d be smarter to look into a nice rental “over there.…

Library lady

So today a co-worker who is — let’s just be honest here — 70 years old, gave me a serious run for my money at the library. Some guy was looking for a specific movie, which just happened to be located on the very bottom shelf, and I did one of those pretend searches for it on the middle shelf. She walks over and squats down like she’s going to give birth in some Third World country and finds it in two seconds. Again, here we are. Now I’m at home tearing open the cardboard box of a frozen pizza and she’s obviously at home on a rubber mat touching her big toe to her nose.      I regularly call the doctor to renew my prescription for muscle relaxers, while it seems like the rest of the women on this ridiculously fit island drink hot tea and take a warm bath for their yoga-stressed muscles. Thank God my teeth are relatively good.
     It’s not easy to work with women your age and older who think nothing of drinking spinach shakes and lugging all kinds of crap around. If I tried half the…

Getting well takes baby steps

So I’ve had what you could call a case of the pneumonia. It was not pleasant. And to top it off it happened in San Antonio, Texas. Like I wasn’t sweating before the fever.
I was there to see my niece Michelle, who by the way kept asking me, “Are you going to write about this?” which is funny because she’s a writer too. I naturally said, “Oh no, of course not.” And here we are.
Thinking back, the best part of that trip teeters between meeting my two great-nephews, Oliver and Isaac, and having a couple of beers with their Yaya, my sister, who I haven’t had beers with in decades. Like I said, it’s a toss-up. There’s also the fact that I got to spend time with my niece’s husband Alex. He’s a hardcore military guy. He teaches other military guys how to be military policemen. I’m not going to gamble on writing anything about him. He’s from Wisconsin though, which I like. And he likes to cook, which I also like.
I thought to myself before I ever left my nice cocoon of Martha’s Vineyard to tra…