Of bright and scary brains

Cheryl tells me that I need to unpack the post below a little (which is a nice way of saying she couldn't figure out what the heck I was trying to say). It is a little dense, I admit, moving too quickly from one thought to another without appropriate thought-linkage.

The awkward (poorly explained) transition is here:

"And thus, back to the quote, which I had always aligned with those who are in a position of great financial wealth....For of those to whom much is given, much is expected.

And so, conveniently, self-servingly, I wondered: for those among us who are just occasionally jerks and not consistently one, when we say something hurtful, does it sting more than someone from whom much less is expected? 

The twist is moving from viewing that statement in terms of wealth to viewing it in terms of respect and positive personal attributes. If someone says something about me, but I don't respect them to begin with (think certain Presidents or bosses), it doesn't hurt as much as it would coming from someone I love and/or have great personal respect for, from someone to whom much (of my respect) is given.

Okay, it was kind of a stretch, but that was where my mind wandered and contorted to, and such is the peril of the reader, getting a glimpse inside the scary maze in my brain, with its many dark, occasionally gloomy, occasionally blindingly bright, paths and corners.

"For those to whom much is given, much is expected."

- President John Kennedy

(or Luke 12:48: "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.") 

This past Sunday, that thought kept trying to sneak, eventually successfully, into my large head. It kept trying to squeeze in there among the noise generated by an interaction I'd had two nights earlier with someone who means very much to me (No, not Cheryl), when she misunderstood a few texts I'd sent her, thinking I was being uncaring, when in fact, the intent was the direct opposite. (One of many reasons I hate texting, so maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophesy.)

As I tortured myself that morning, reliving what I'd done, trying to figure the best way to make things right, I must have paused long enough to give some legroom to John and Luke's words.

I am a sensitive guy. For better and worse, and to the possible surprise of some folks who have heard me be too blunt...okay, completely tactless...I really try to be very aware of people's feelings, careful to replace my verbal divots when I go too far. And on the other side, it doesn't take much more than the slightest of slights directed at me to set me in a tailspin, sometimes for hours, sometimes days, wondering if their critique of me has merit, forgetting that no one is liked by everyone, no one's opinions are universally shared and that it's okay to ruffle the odd feather, especially mine.

So, to trot out another of my favorite aphorisms, in the category of Sometimes our greatest strengths are also our greatest weaknesses, such is the case with my sensitivity.

And thus, back to the quote above, which I had always aligned with those who are in a position of great financial wealth. Or to take it in another direction, on a sports team, when the superstar has just an average or even subpar game, everyone howls, but when the guy at the end of the bench has the same numbers, we are thrilled by his big game. For of those to whom much is given, much is expected.

And so, conveniently, self-servingly, I wondered: for those among us who are just occasionally jerks and not consistently one, when we say something hurtful, does it sting more than someone from whom much less is expected? Seems kind of obvious when I put it in writing. 

On the other hand, in a meeting that same Sunday morning, my friend Cate said, "Just because you mean well, doesn't mean you do well."

I have a feeling that is the better quote to explain my texting inadequacy. 

And back to trying to make things right to the person I upset, other than telling her how much I love her, I brought her home a big yummy cinnamon donut. Woulda worked for me!

I have a confession to make that, no surprise, puts me far outside the mainstream of current thought.

I hate memes.

I hate memes for the same reason I hate clichés: they are lazy. Well, I don't know if they are lazy so much as the person using them is. 

But...now that I've admitted that, I'll also admit to having been inspired by one. This one:

 

I saw that on the facebook page of one of my friends, whose page seems to generally consist of nothing but memes, and I read it, paused, and went on to something else. Then, about 3 days later, I woke up at precisely 6:10am (unusually early for me), and I had this thought coming out of whatever dream I'd just had:

If you are perplexed by what decision to make with some pressing issue in your life, the answer should always be:  

Choose Love. 

And if that answer doesn't fit, then neither the question, nor the answer, are really all that important.