Aka; persistence, tenacity, determination, sticktoitability. Basically doing what you should do, whether you want to or not. And today is a perfect example of this for me.
I made the commitment to myself ten days ago that I was going to focus on an attitude of gratitude for the following 30 days. And I would journal those results daily, in essence keeping a visible record of many of the reasons I had to be grateful.
Not only to hold myself accountable but also to give myself a virtual Report Card of sorts. A means by which I could quickly glance at things that I am able to be grateful for whenever I felt I either didn't have anything to be grateful for or had started to take some of the things I did have for granted.
And as I mentioned earlier, today is a perfect example of just how much I've strengthened my ability to persevere. To do things when I don't want to. Or even more accurate in todays situation would be to say when I really don't have the time to do it.
I'm extra busy this afternoon with other 'stuff' going on and to be honest, writing this post could quite easily be pushed way down on todays list of importance. And it would be if it wasn't for the fact that I made a commitment to myself to write a post each and every day. No ifs, ands or maybe laters about it. I have to do it, whether I have the time to do it or not.
I committed myself to doing it, therefore I must make the time for it. And I am making time for it, time I supposedly don't have. And not a half assed quickie version of a post. A legit, full length post. After all, what kind of lesson would I be learning, let alone claiming that I've learned, by stating that I've grown in my ability to persevere if when I looked back, all I saw was a lame three sentence post regarding my ability to persevere. Not much of one, that's for sure. And in this case, the proof is in the post.
So today's reason for being grateful is in just how much I've grown in my ability to persevere. Especially when the old me would have just rounded up a few excuses, co-signed my own bullshit and gone on my merry way, doing my best to ignore that overwhelming feeling of severe procrastination.
And so today I'm grateful for my ability to persevere, when I really didn't want to. When it would have been extremely easy not to. Turns out I did have the time after all. Because it's time I 'created' when I normally would have been busy making excuses.
Day 12 ~ Common Sense
Yep, good ol' common sense. I can hear some of you right now saying, C'mon, common sense?" That's pretty much a no brainer, isn't it? And you'd be more correct than you might think. Definitely a lack of brains involved.
Lately it seems as if I've been running across more and more circumstances where common sense is in severely short supply. Either that or it's no longer the default 'go to' for most people as far as reasoning or problem solving is concerned. In fact I happened upon two instances just this morning alone where it appeared that common sense wasn't even an option on their list of options. Not for these two particular people anyway.
I had to run a few errands relatively early this morning and with people starting their post holiday trek home, I was anxious to get it over and done before the true crazies hit the road.
So as I'm driving down the second busiest street in the entire area, a relatively skinny two lane paved road with 'graded sand' for shoulders, up ahead in the distance I began to detect some 'out of the ordinary' movement on the other side of the road.
As I got closer I could see that it was a woman jogging. Which wasn't all that easy to spot since she was wearing a dark gray hoodie and black pants. Sure, she was jogging on the correct side of the street, facing traffic as the law states. Only problem is there's about 1ft. of asphalt on the shoulder side of the white line and about 10ft. of sand and then open desert.
In her infinite wisdom she decides that she will jog in the 1ft. wide 'lane' of pavement between the white line delineating the edge of the auto traffic lane and the sand of the shoulder. Basically 1ft. between her and the cars flyin' by @ 55mph. And again, she's legally facing traffic so she won't get a ticket. But what she's more likely to get is somebodies side view mirror slapping her in the face at 55+ mph.
Then, when she's in the hospital in a 'Halo' she can tell (or more likely write down on a tablet until her jaw heals and she can have the wire holding her jaw in place removed) her lawyer that she knows her rights, that she had the right away and it's all the driver of the cars fault for hitting her.
The driver who is traumatized for life from hitting her on accident because he didn't see her until it was too late to swerve. But had she been wearing brighter clothes or perhaps even jogging within the 10ft. of sand on the shoulder, she'd still be getting her exercise as opposed to eating her dinner through a straw.
Lack of common sense? Say it ain't so. So after running the few errands I needed to take care of, I once again headed home. As I mentioned, it's the second busiest street in town and that's because there are very few streets that go East to West from town to town. And even though this isn't THE main drag, it is the default drive thru for many folks.
As I'm heading back home, sure enough in almost the same relatively open area where I saw the woman jogging earlier, was what appeared to be a bicyclist heading the same direction I was. Which again, he was 'legal' because he was riding in the direction of traffic. But he too was wearing some type of a dark shirt, dark pants and zero lighting or reflectors to speak of.
He was pretty much setting himself up for a game of "Bowling For A Bicyclist" and had I not seen him as early as I did, he might have experienced a 'gutter ball' the likes of which he would not forget anytime soon. That's if he even woke up from the probable coma and remembered his name or where he was.
Once again, just a bit of 'common sense' and he would have been wearing some brighter clothing. And some type of a flashing light sure as heck wouldn't have hurt either. He too could have been 'pulp' telling his 'Non Fiction' story from his hospital bed while in traction as they removed the last of the remaining spokes from his ass. And yes, he had the right of way but I'll be damned if he wasn't doing it the oh so wrong way.
So next time you find yourself thinking that common sense is all too common. Think again. And be grateful for the common sense you have. I know I'm grateful for whatever amount I have, that's for certain.
Day 13 ~ The Mullet
Yes indeed, the Mullet. Aka; Hockey Hair. Now, I realize that I mentioned in an earlier post my desire to keep these '30 Days Of Gratitude' posts down to a minimum of humor. Which I am. But believe me, anyone that doesn't understand the seriousness of a Mullet just isn't gettin' it.
Not that I have ever had to experience the feeling of actually 'owning' a Mullet myself but I can only imagine the horror of waking up to such a horrific experience as that. As the saying goes, "It's business in the front and party in the back" but upon viewing someone sporting a Mullet, I must admit the only business I can imagine going on underneath it is either runnin' moonshine in the trunk of a '39 Ford with "Dualin' Banjos" playin' on the radio or perhaps harvestin' Ginseng roots somewhere far out in the Appalachian Mountains. Other than those two scenarios, it's business as unusual.
Same goes for the Mullet's two inbred brothers, the 'Mohawk' and the so called 'Man Bun'. The Mohawk, having been around for quite some time now, luckily enough has pretty much run it's course and for the most part, it's thankfully been kicked to the curb.
The so called 'Man Bun' on the other hand has yet to die down. Matter of fact, for those that don't have the time to allow their locks to grow long enough to get a rubber band around 'em, they have created an option that will not only speed up the process of achieving the 'look' of the Man Bun but will also allow for the actual nightly removal of the crap-paratus itself.
Which as it turns out is a huge bonus for those Weekend Warriors that actually have to go back to work on Monday and don't want any 'tell tail' signs of their weekend of warrioring left behind. Yes indeed, they have created a 'Clip-On' Man Bun and it's kind of a win/win, both for those that choose to wear it as well as for those that are forced to view it. Meanwhile, back to the Mullet.
If you've ever seen the back of an actual Mullet in real life, then you know all too well that the back view can be anything but a party. Actually it's quite disturbing to say the least. From our earliest haircuts, we all grow up with an 'elder' of some sort dictating our hairstyle. A parent, a guardian, a grandparent, someone of authority determines our hairstyle for us and like it or not, we live with it.
Hopefully the decision isn't determined by a particular bowl size or even worse, a bout with Lice as that can lead to a haircut that nobody wants. Cue the Flowbee! I also tend to think a bit of our 'identity' is created by these early choices, which aren't of our own making, and they can have a long lasting effect on the future choices we make down the road. Such as whether or not we have a Parole Officer assigned to us early in our lives. But I digress.
For guys, the Mullet runs along the lines of something you would see derived from the minds of those super sketchy Pageant Moms. I'm sure you know the moms I'm referring to. The ones that never had a Barbie Doll of their own when they were growing up so once they reached their later teens, they did everything they could to get knocked up just so they could have a real live 'doll' to dress up as they saw fit. Hence the 'Stepford Girls' were born.
If you ask me that's some shpookified stuff goin' on right there, I don't care what side of the runway you're from. And the Kid Mullet, aka the 'Chullet' can have that kind of a horrifically hauntingly effect on a young boy. Now, I will say that once we get to choose our own hairstyles, we don't always make the best choices either but having a Mullet forced upon ones head has to be anything but comforting.
I myself will admit to living through the 'long hair' thing as well as the semi 'Flock Of Seagulls' stage, a decision of my own making and without a doubt I lived to regret it. I'm sure we can all look back on hairstyle choices that we made ourselves and wondering WTFlip was I EVEN thinking!
So for today I truly am grateful that I never had to suffer the utter humiliation of rockin' the Mullet. Or should I say 'Heavy Metal Southern Rockin'' the Mullet.
Day 14 ~ Regret
And not in being grateful for regret itself but more so in the way I have learned from the horrible feeling of regret and in how I have learned to use the memory of that unwanted feeling as motivation. Motivation to push through the thoughts of rejection, through the humiliation, as well as the knowing that the wondering "what if" can be a self made prison of its own. And a painful one at that.
Not that I'm by any means completely 'cured' but as I continue to learn and grow, I'm gradually beginning to realize more and more that the pain of receiving unwanted answers to difficult to ask questions pales in comparison to the long lasting effects that regret can have on a person from never asking those questions in the first place.
In essence what I'm attempting to say is that although there's a chance there will be pain in knowing the answer, the pain is pretty much a 100% guarantee in NOT knowing the answer. At least if you muster up the courage to risk it all and ask, there's a chance the answer could be a 'Yes' as opposed to the dreaded 'NO!' But if you never take the risk and ask the question, the answer is surely a NO right off the bat.
Sure, not getting the 'answer' you'd hoped for, whether it be to a particular question or anything else that requires you to put your neck (or any other body part for that matter) on the chopping block, can definitely be brutal. However, speaking from experience, the pain of regret lasts infinitely longer. Sometimes an entire lifetime.
I'm not certain who originally said this but it rings so true for me. "In the end the only things in life you'll regret, are the risks you didn't take." And that couldn't ring any truer for me.
My Dad and I were semi estranged for most of my adult life. Not really too sure exactly why. Too much the same? Possibly. Both stubbornly opinionated? Probably. I moved out of the house at a young age (basically because I pretty much knew everything there was to know about life when I graduated High School at 16. LOL ) and he started a new life of his own after my parents were divorced.
And as the years flew by, I knew that eventually we'd reconnect, but the timing never seemed right. Then upon receiving the phone call informing me that he had passed away, all the feelings of regret came flooding in. All of the things I had wanted to say to him would never come to fruition. It was indeed too late to mend any 'fences' and the regret of that still hurts deep. Even some thirteen years later.
Nothing I can do but learn from that experience. And never allow it to happen again. As with all of lifes 'experiences', we have the option of learning and growing from them. Or not.
And I'm doing my best to use any previous battles with regret as a constant reminder to do everything possible to never have to suffer the feeling of regret ever again.
Day 15 ~ Non Smoker
Yes, that oh so horribly disgusting habit that has its death grip on multiple millions of people world wide. That unmistakable stench of the Cancer Cloud that takes ones breath away. Literally.
Mostly thanks to that overly glamorized lamestream media myth perpetrated on the citizens of the world that smoking instantly makes all men cool and all women sexy. Please, say it ain't so.
Well, IT AIN'T SO! There, I said it. Feel better now? Good. And if you do choose to smoke, enjoy it while you can because chances are you won't be around to support your case nearly as long as those of us that have chosen not to smoke and have found other ways to be cool 'n' sexy.
Ways that don't stink. And don't hold its victims hostage, hooked up to 20ft. hose and a green oxygen bottle for life. I realize that this post will more than likely be a bit controversial as those that do smoke are very adamant about their right to smoke. Yes, I agree. People do have the right to smoke if they so choose. But I also have the right to stay as far away as I possibly can from your smoking.
After all, like it or not, it's a matter of life and death. And I wanna live. To the fullest. For as long as I possibly can. Actually, I'd like to live even longer than that but that's another story altogether. Anyway, back to the butts.
My goal with this post is not to denigrate the people that do smoke. That decision is theirs and theirs alone. They are aware of the supposed repercussions in doing so and are willing to take the risk. Feeling invincible and that those bad 'things' we continually hear in regards to smoking only happen to other people, they continue on committing suicide. One coffin nail at a time.
Having had both of my parents lives shortened due to their being smokers, I tend to feel quite a bit differently about the subject. And the pain and heartache of watching my Mom slowly pass away is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. But she wasn't able to muster the strength, the inner strength, as well as the physical strength, to fight the evil grip of tobacco and its 5,200 or so insidious ingredients.
Having first started smoking in her early teens, she spent nearly all her life smoking. There were 'gaps' in and amongst those years. Times that she was able to muster the might to stop but those gaps were fleeting as well as fewer as time passed. Eventually smoking took her life and she was physically powerless to do anything about it.
But to be honest, this is more than just a post about my family experiences. This is truly a subject that I feel extremely passionate about. Even if it hadn't affected my family as it has, I still feel it is one of the most disgustingly vile habits known to man.
Yes, thanks to the addiction of smoking creating the funding for the tobacco industry to thrive, television, movies, advertising in general has done its best to glamorize smoking. And as unbelievable as it may seem, it's still extremely prevalent in todays society. You'd think 'we' would have learned by now but obviously not.
Just as you can't 'feel' the cold temps in a picture of a snow covered mountain, neither can you smell the stench of a room filled with cigarette smoke. And I admit I might be a bit extra sensitive to it but to be honest, the smell alone makes me wanna hurl. Which is why I'm continually blown away when I see a woman work so diligently on her hair, make up, clothes, the entire package, only to light up a grit and immediately flush all her hard work right down the drain.
I mean, even if a woman as gorgeous as Margot Robbie said she wanted to be with me forever but only on one condition. That being she was a smoker and would continue to be. Amazing as it may be, I'd have to say "Sorry butt, No Go Margot" and walk away.
It would be difficult without a doubt (Ok, it would take every fiber of my being to walk away. Ya happy now? LOL) but I just couldn't be with a smoker, no matter how gorgeous they are. It's my No. 1 Dealbreaker, no ifs, ands or butts about it. Nobody wants to kiss an ashtray. Except perhaps another smoker.
Me, I like makin' out. And as far as a guy being 'cool' because he smokes, I learned the summer before 8th Grade that there were many other ways of being cool besides smoking.
In fact I remember one particular episode as if it was yesterday. My best friend at the time Jim, who's parents were divorced, which meant his Mom was always at work. And it left us kids plenty of time after school for wrong doing of sorts. Which of course we took advantage of on many occasions.
One such episode in particular involved him, his two brothers and me and our introduction to being permanently inducted in to the 'Club Cool'. Yep, this was it. We were gonna try smoking because there was no quicker way to establish your 'cool factor' than to hang out after school while suckin' on a grit. At least that's what we were led to believe anyway.
Well, long story short, turns out Jim and his brothers were gonna turn out to be new members of the Cool Club. And me, well, there would be no secret handshake in my immediate future. At least not with the help of smoking anyway. I still managed to be hella cool. Turns out it just came naturally. And that's no smoke.
Anyway, my buddy and his brothers seemed to get the hang of smoking pretty quickly and before I knew it, they were cruisin' down Tobacco Road without a hitch. Like they'd been smoking forever. Me, on the other hand, somehow got carjacked in the middle of flickin' my BIC and I ended up having to take a completely different road down to Cooltown.
All it took for me was one partial puff. One small attempt at an inhale and I was done. My cool factor was instantly blown out the window. Although it seemed like 45 hours, it was probably more like 45 minutes before I finally stopped hacking and coughing long enough to fully catch my breath.
My throat instantly felt like old shoe leather that had been left in the desert for 25 years. My eyes watered like they just had two freshly peeled onions violently shoved right in to them. Suffice it to say that my experience with smoking wasn't a pleasant one. And as I mentioned earlier, this was an experience that happened forever ago but one that has lasted a lifetime. And an experience that I'm eternally grateful for.
Who'd a thunk that the uncool fool I made of myself that summer afternoon saved me from a lifetime of one of the most horrible habits ever known to man. Or woman. Probably saved my life. While my thoughts surrounding smoking might upset a few folks, so be it. They can scream "Butt Out" all they want but I'm still gonna speak my mind on this.
I've always been one to speak my mind and stand by my words, regardless of whether or not it ruffles a few feathers. My intention isn't to upset anyone but to merely point out that their friends and loved ones would enjoy having them around as long as possible. And the longer they smoke, the less time they will be around to enjoy life.
If this post gets even one smoker to take a second look at their life and think twice before lighting up again, then that in and of itself is something I am truly grateful for. As well as being grateful that I myself am not a smoker. Don't be a Butthead, it just isn't sexy nor is it cool. The proof is in the picture.
