On Wednesday, John Brennan was all set to be confirmed as the new director of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) by the United States Senate.
Unless.
Unless someone did something.
And just before lunch, someone did, as Kentucky Senator Rand Paul took the floor and announced he was beginning a filibuster to bring light to recent comments by Attorney General Eric Holder regarding the dangers of drone strikes on U.S. citizens.
“I will speak until I can no longer speak”, he said. “I will speak as long as it takes…”
When Paul finally yielded the floor – over 12 hours later – realistically, he had not changed much. Delaying the inevitable, really. Brennan will still most likely be confirmed, possibly this weekend, and the discussion on drone strikes will fall back out of the public eye.
Unless.
Unless Paul did something just a little bit more than provide a speed bump to the legislative agenda of the Senate on a random Wednesday. Maybe he sparked an interest group to pick up the mantle and seek further dialogue with the White House on the matter. Maybe some journalist will write an expose on drones. Maybe he educated another 10 percent of the population on what the threat of a drone strike even was.
The point isn’t necessary what happens in the future, but that something happened in the now. Paul got attention – and then he used it for something. It doesn’t necessarily matter what the something was, or if you agree with it or like it. It doesn’t particularly matter if you like Paul or his politics or the filibuster tactic in general.
The world has changed so rapidly that time indeed feels like it moves faster to us, even though it doesn’t. We often remark how life moves at a faster pace than it once did. When I was a child, it seemed like the years were two or three times as long as they are now. Is it because my sample size was so small? Or is it because I actually remember so much? Naturally, we remember days and events when they are distinct and unique. It’s what, you know, makes them, well…memorable.
Early life is filled with firsts. First time you learned to read, first time a friend spent the night. A first game. The first time you saw your favorite movie or heard that song. Your first kiss. Your first heartbreak. The first time you saw your spouse. The first time a loved one died, the first time you held your child.
What I’ve realized is this world needs more firsts.
It’s the repetition that dulls the effect. We’re all just so busy now, with jobs, kids, appointments and soccer games, homework and functions. Pretty soon, we’ll look up and it will be Christmas season again and we’ll think to ourselves “where did this year go?”
Before we know it, a decade will have passed. And we often discuss doing something more, something different. Have you ever noticed it’s always in the future?
“Oh, I’ll have time for the kids when my job slows down” or “We’ll pay down our debt once we get promotions at work.”
Notice how these statements contradict each other? You can’t earn more money and see your family and friends more in modern America. There just aren’t enough hours in the day, right?
Except there are. There are just as many hours in the day for us as there was for Socrates, Lincoln, Da Vinci, Einstein, Disney, Jobs, Jordan. It’s all in how we spend it. We get so lost thinking about what we could do that we have forgotten completely about what we are doing. We’re not in the present, we’re in the past and the future while in the present. Our bodies are here, our minds are in 1999 and 2021.
Which means, simply, we’re wasting our nows by thinking about what we didn’t do before and what will do tomorrow. Tomorrow will be yesterday soon enough. Be passionate, purposeful and provocative with your time. If everyday looks the same, it’s because it is, which kind of completely the opposite of the point. Life is constant motion and growth. If we’re not eliciting that feeling within ourselves that we had during our younger days, then we don’t have enough motion and growth.
There is no grand finale. Death is the opposite of birth; life itself really has no opposite. The point of it is not for me to say. I can’t tell you what to do. It’s not my place and I’m not qualified in the least bit. I don’t even want to look underneath my own hood sometimes and examine what goes on in this brain.
But I do know that if nothing changes, then nothing changes.
At least Rand Paul stood up and talked about something. Yesterday wasn’t just another day in the U.S. Senate. Paul got attention and he used it to passionately push for change. He did something with the moment and I immediately connected it with the famous line from Dr. Seuss’ “The Lorax”: “Unless someone like you cares a whole, awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”
Dr. Seuss was the pen name of Theodor Geisel, and both were perfectionists. Geisel reportedly threw out 95 percent of the material he wrote until he had settled on a theme. He preferred to be paid when his material had been handed in – a rarity in writing, as most are paid in advance. His first book was rejected 27 times.
But Geisel wanted to make the world a better place and found that he could do it by infecting common ideals that we could all agree on in fun, easy to read ways. He ended up helping millions of young children learn to read with his strange vocabulary, colorful and unique drawings and deeply thought provoking messages, usually around humanity and how we treat one another.
In other words, a morality play – kind of like this.
Nevertheless, Seuss’ books were morality plays that you and I remember. A voice, a message that stands out. Unique.
But we cannot tell what the overall message is anymore because it’s all jumbled together. If no voice stands out, it’s just noise. That’s why our days and years are getting mangled and tangled. We’re not empowering ourselves, we’re just running out the clock. We haven’t made our voice heard. We haven’t delivered that message that resonates. Each day looks and feels the same because, well, it kind of is.
Unless.
Unless we change it. Unless we prioritize and maximize and stop talking about when. I want my days busting with so much activity, either mental or physical, that when I’m 95, I’m ready to go because I’ll having nothing left in the tank. I’ll be done. Live forever? How about live for now?
So individually we can’t solve it all, but we the journey has to start somewhere. Can’t solve world hunger by yourself, but you could donate to a food pantry. Can’t fix a broken relationship or friendship in one day, but it could start with an apology. Can’t fix stop the nomination of a new CIA Director, but can bring light to an issue of importance to the American people.
Speak until we can no longer speak.
Unless.
Unless we’re all OK with this life we’ve created for ourselves. Unless we’re OK with our income, our jobs, our family time, our government, our tax rate, our foreign policy, our society, our faith, our health. Unless we’re just OK with everything.
If nothing changes, then nothing changes.
Unless.
Unless we care a whole, awful lot.
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