Category Archives: Society

American culture, Me Generations, psychology, Society, Time

A Time for Action


Ever listened to the clock, like one of those old grandfather clocks with the chimes that would wake you from a dead sleep in the middle of the night?
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
You can actually hear time passing. What’s interesting that you pick up from observing this is that there is really no such thing as right now, even though Val Halen had a popular song about it. In fact, Sammy Hagar’s lyrics were outdated before the ink probably dried on the notepad he wrote the lyrics.
Even saying the phrase right now takes a second, which inevitably creates a paradox in which you are both speaking of something from the past in the current and calling it the present.
Good and confused? Well, you should be. The passage of time has and will remain one of the great mysteries of our world. 
Men and women have used it and abused it, wasted it and made the most of it for as long as we’ve inhabited the planet. While we’d probably think of the  way we once lived as nomadic hunter and gatherers as naively barbaric , it could be argued that we are still barbarians, just a different kind.
We’re still hunting and gathering, only now, it’s consumption of things.
If you really want to see how fast the world moves, just go here, to the worldometers, a site that measure statistics on a variety of things.
In some areas, it is difficult to even comprehend “right now”. Just watch the birth rate. Or scroll down to the social aspects of the world. Look at how many Tweets are sent every second. The only thing that keeps up with both those categories is the number of CO2emissions this year – measured in tons, of course – and money spent on obesity related diseases. Or cigarettes smoked or world spending on illegal drugs.
Want to know about how fast – and what exactly moves quickest – here in the good ole United States? Then head over here, to usarightnow.com. Watch how fast these categories move: cans of coca-cola consumed, debt, revenue, spending on plastic surgery, text messages sent, energy consumed. 
So we’ve never really figured out this whole “what to do with ourselves” quandary. How is our time best spent, and according to whom? I suppose it’s up to the individual. Some live for family, some for faith. Some for vacations, gadgets, objects. Others live for love – of person, of food, of money. Some live for their work and the task manager mentality of accomplishing something, even if that something isn’t all that well defined or, frankly, important.
Not everything holds the same value when measured by people or, perhaps even more intriguing, by time. It cannot, frankly, otherwise, we wouldn’t know what to appreciate. But that doesn’t mean what we value most is what we spend the most of our time on. Some argue because we can’t afford to.
I’d say based on things are going, we can’t afford not to.
According to most of the statistics, how we literally “spend” our time says all we need to know about us, as individuals and as a society. How we do our now will ultimately determine our later.
We want it all and we want it now.
We want quick fixes and short-term solutions to long-term problems. We want to feel good, so we buy whatever our drug of choice is: movies, music, food. And yet another minute, another hour, another day, month or year will pass and nothing actually changed. The feeling we get from all these things, is, like time itself, momentary and brief. And at the end of it, you have to wonder: what did I actually do?
We’re all about me. Then again, we always have been. There’s just more of us now.
Time just ran yet another story about another generation of young people who are all about themselves and how many people in older generations worry that they won’t be productive members of society.
Oh, but they will.
This story has been told and re-written many times, about Baby Boomers, Generation X, Y, Z and Millennials.  As Elspeth Reeve so eloquently pointed out in The Atlantic Wire last week, this same argument has been pushed as a talking point for over a hundred years, with nearly every generation. And every time, eventually, the vast majority settle down and do what they are supposed to: get jobs, acquire debt, pay taxes and die.
It seems no matter where you look, you find people who are not content or happy with something. And that’s not a knock, we’re all human and we all want and desire and need. But based on what we spend the majority of our time on, none of it is worthwhile to us. Actions speak louder than words, as they say, right?
Who are “they” anyway? Who actually does instead of merely speak? If action is the greatest indicator of doing there is, if so many are sick and tired of so many things, why do we spend so much time talking about it all? Perhaps because, at a young age, we’re told to share our emotions and our feelings as a coping mechanism. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
And so we are a society of talkers.
This runs contradictory to all that we, in societal terms, believe ourselves to be. Our collective and individual self-image and worth is higher than what we actually are, or how we are viewed by others. Basically, we think we’re great, but we’re not all that great.
Yet inherent within the fabric of our very being is the need and the desire for something more. This could be due to the fact that we’re not fulfilled in how we spend the majority of our time. With over 80 percent of the American population reporting they do not enjoy what they do, this can certainly be a large contributing factor to our sense of uneasiness.
It’s the constant pull between the benefits of the here and now versus the hazy, distant outlook of the future. It’s hard to picture the future and see anything but an older reflection of today, or better yet, yesterday.
Do we have the wherewithal and the focus to get past the right now, which we’ve already established doesn’t exist? There’s always another horizon, another horizon – until there isn’t and we’ve ran out of time.
The promise of someday is nothing more than an illusion that makes us feel our mediocrity is acceptable. To actually make someday today, to make our tomorrow, our vision for the future a reality does, in fact, require action.  It requires care, focus and a formidable resolve to see it through.
Society has taught us – or impressed upon us through marketing and consumerism, that all things must occur fast. That speed equals good, that the quicker you get it, the happier you are. We should be mindful of wanting it all to happen now.
There’s good in the journey. There’s quality over a duration of time, a reminder that sometimes – often times – the best things happen over a period of time. Change typically occurs, for good or bad, slowly. Instead of just some picturesque idea or vision of what we dream and hope for, the journey and the determination to do it and actually see it through is the actual change.
Time is ever-fleeting. Not much is ever done or resolved right now, but rather in the moments long before and after it.
So what you do with your time only says and writes the history of you.
The world, as we know, will keep on moving – a grand machine where the numbers are ever changing. But even though they are measured the same – by the rate of time – they are not and do not have to be connected.
An individual’s life is theirs and theirs alone. So to what do we owe ourselves, as opposed to the world in general? Is what we do who were are, and if it is, are we happy with it?
Action speak louder than words.
So the next time you want to talk about how you feel, remember that’s fine. It’s good to get it out. In the end, however, the action you take determines what you truly mean (or don’t) what you say.
The hope and promise of the future will exist tomorrow as it did today and yesterday.
What are we doing right now that will make our dreams and goals of tomorrow a reality?
Tick, tock.
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American culture, ESPN, money, President Barack Obama, Society

The Fog of Money


“Time is money.” – Benjamin Franklin
Ever heard of the fog of war? It’s a often-used military term for the uncertainty in situational awareness experienced by those participating in military operations. The phrase “fog of war” essentially tries to capture the cloud in judgment that can occur during a conflict, military campaign.
There is uncertainty in your rationale, your estimations of your enemy’s capabilities and intent – as well as your own. As one might gather, this is a bad thing, as your judgment, logic and rationale should be clear during such trying times and circumstances. Military’s all over the world have discussed, practiced and prepared for the fog of war for centuries – but it doesn’t stop it from occurring.
The same could be true of American society right now regarding the economy, government and our culture. We’re in a haze socially, too.
This is referred to as “The Fog of Money”.
Because whenever money is involved, we lose all sense of rationale thought, logic goes out the window and our judgment is certainly clouded. What’s worse is own enemies know this and use it to their advantage.
The difficult part, though, is determining who are enemies are. They are not just groups without country in foreign lands, rather, the majority exist within our own borders, inhabiting the same space and occupying the same soil as we do. They could be our own government – both as an institution and as individuals in the institution. They could be the very people who employ us. Our enemies could be family and friends.
If you find this far-fetched and think that this is just another spiel about money being the root of all evil, well, you’d be both right and wrong.
It’s widely known that money certainly drives nearly everything and brings its own aspirations and motivations into any and all situations. It clouds judgment just by entering the room.
This is why they are making more Star Wars movies. Its why your favorite 1970s band continues to tour. It is why you get up and go to your job each day. The fog of money can be found all around us – the desire to get it, to keep it, to use it, to give it away.
There never seems to be enough of it, even though it really exists within the context of our own minds. Technically, it’s just paper that we’ve universally agreed holds some sort of value. As my high school history teacher said, if we all agreed today to burn all money and start using rocks as currency, it wouldn’t create a new system – just a new currency.
The Fog of Money creates an illusion of power, which is something else that’s in and of itself, a fog. Power exists because it is universally acknowledged that someone has it over you.
This week, Politico ran a storyabout how interest groups and the people seeking an audience with President Obama are using advertising time (and money) on ESPN, because they know he watches sports (hope they are keenly aware of this relatively new technology called DVR, which allows you to skip through commercials).
Trade associations and companies are using the media to try and garner Obama’s attention. One strategist indicted that the ads cannot be obvious to the president – he can’t know he’s the intended audience.
Money to deceive the powerful of influence? Who really has the power in this situation? Is it the one running the ad, the president – or the medium itself? Who can tell in this fog?
And it is not just political – Microsoft and the American Petroleum Institute (the largest oil and gas industry trade group) have used the same tactic to try and gain favorable audiences with those who watch ESPN and other networks.
It could be said that all this money would be better spent trying to improve services, trying to better the world through advancing technology and communications. But a message like that cuts through the fog and drips with a sappy message of the advancement of civilization in general. Kind of the opposite point of capitalism, come to think of it.
Thus our contradiction: a country with cultural principles of equality, of kindness, of opportunity, compassion and freedom, but with fundamental economic principles of supply and demand. We’re constantly at war with our two selves: the part of us that wants to do good in and for the world, and the part of us that knows money makes that very world go round.
Case in point: a New York realtor is offering employees a 15 percent raise to those who get a tattoo of the company logo. It appeals to those who are struggling in tough economic times and it’s a walking billboard (and weird story) for all who see and ask about it. It relies on desperation of the powerless, the need to gain any extra piece of cheese or slice of the pie or whatever classic acronym you can apply here.
Is it so different that millionaire and billionaire professional sports owners contemplating adding logos of key advertisers to team uniforms? The money generated from TV deals, season ticket holders, corporate suites, general attendance and merchandising isn’t enough, eh?
To make matters worse, we the people are just as a part of the Fog of Money as those we seem to perceive as running the show – myself included. Every time we “like” some movie or business or show our support for or against some issue, we’re showing that these advertising efforts work.
I’d never suggest removing ourselves from the equation – we’re too entrenched into the modernity of American society now. But we could learn from the likes of those who’ve prepared, as best they can, for the Fog of War.
We can take the time to understand others true motivations and intent. We can learn to draw from our past experiences, do better reconnaissance work and recognize faulty communication. We can slow the tempo of our decision making to a tactical level where there is less risk and better intelligence.
Basically, we can take the time to be aware that the Fog of Money exists.
After all, time is money, and while money buys time, it cannot stop it.
In the end, we’ll be judged on how we spent our time, not the money.
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American culture, motivation, psychology, Society

Why I’m Happy to be a Human Body Pillow


This past Saturday, my eyes opened due to a horrible muscle spasm firing through my back as my body revolted due to the position it was in – which was basically a backwards question mark. 
This might be a good time to point out that my body wasn’t in this position voluntarily. 
Our seven-year-old daughter had nestled into one side of my body, our four-year-old son the other – and somehow – at an angle across the top of my head, was our red-haired 18-month-old son (see visual evidence captured by my wife in the photo at right).
I had become a body pillow.
Not exactly what I pictured myself growing up to become as a young boy.
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It occurred to me recently that the world is filled with irony.
We’re not really evolving as a culture or a society, and mainly because we’ve been duped (we’re easily tricked, frankly). The longer we live, the more we forget the point of living.
You start out as a young child with hopes, dreams and aspirations of doing great things in the world. You play, explore, learn, imagine, dream, draw, paint, color, love. You find what you like, a game, a book, a friend – and you throw yourself into it. There is no set agenda, no one way of doing things, no orderly fashion to life – which allows aspirations of what you want to do seem less like hopes and wishes and more like “someday” possibilities.
Slowly, we become task masters. We get our schoolwork done on time; we go here, we go there, we act like everyone else. And we’re led to believe that acting like everyone else is exactly what we are supposed to do – because being like everybody else means you’re accepted as one of a civilized society.
So you become more focused on what you can realistically do, given a variety of factors like where you live, gender, race, religion, intellect, aptitude. You begin to place things in a box. Instead of asking why, as we did when we were young and curious, we start focusing on the how.
Once we stop asking why, the how doesn’t really even matter.
We’ve become a world of task checkers and project managers: once one thing is complete, check it off the list and it’s on to the next thing. I’ve been terribly guilty of this. It removes spontaneity. It removes the wonder. It removes the why.
How do I pay my bills? How do I make dinner, give the kids a bath, get my work done, mow the lawn, help with homework and still have time for my spouse? How do I have time for my friends? How can I be in three places at once? How am I so busy?
This task-oriented action is what drives us around and around, day after day, year after year. And we go around and around until someone tells us we can stop, or a bank account verifies it, a some point much later in life.
And suddenly, in our advancing age, it will occur to us, as we have nothing but time and no tasks, that we were asking how instead of why. We spent our lives asking the wrong questions.
Why did I do so much to pay so many bills? Why did I do what the world told me to do? Why don’t I know how to operate without a To Do list? Why don’t I give more time to my spouse and children? Why did all those arbitrary deadline matter so much? Why did the grass need to be mowed so much? Why do I need be in three places at once? Why did I allow myself to be so busy, so bothered, so stressed?
Forget the To Do lists. They serve no purpose than from keeping us from doing what we were meant to do. 
We’re led to believe that this task master lifestyle is accomplishment. Of what, exactly?  We think we’re getting things done, but we’re not. We think we’re working hard, because why? Is all work hard? Should it be? We even love to talk about how hard we work as a society. Good for us! We’re the best worker bees out there!
And we’re completely missing the point. For the record, I don’t know what the point is either, I wouldn’t pretend to.
But I’m always learning more about what it is not. Turns out, I’ve actually become much of what I always wanted to be, all because I’ve been given the chance to be a husband and a father of four.
I am a poet, a writer, a reader, a thinker. I am a historian, an artist, an actor. I am a pirate, a doctor, a cook, a mechanic. I am Santa Claus. I am a coach, a tour guide, a guardian, a granter of wishes.
In a way, I became more than I ever could hope for.
I am a human body pillow.
And the question isn’t how, but why.
Scratch that. The question is…why not?
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American culture, Boston Marathon Bombings, Fear, news, Society, Switzerland, Terrorism

The Fear of Terror (Or Why I Think of Switzerland)

In the immediate aftermath of the bombings that marred the Boston Marathon Monday, I did what many Americans did not.

I did not watch TV and get live reports. I did not check my Twitter feed incessantly. And while I prayed for the victims and for peace, I did not post videos, tributes and messages about supporting marathon runners.

Switzerland 78I Googled Switzerland.

It was literally the first thing that came to my mind. It was as if my brain went to a default mode and wanted to be anywhere else, so what not something beautiful, neutral and serene. Thus, my fingers found the letters on the keyboard and suddenly I clicked “search” on Switzerland.

And for a brief period of time, I drifted off thinking about a country that seems to check out highly on all the appropriate categories: low crime, high income, happiness, housing and neutrality in most world affairs.

I thought about how it seems nice there, from what little I know about it. Complete with lush land, fresh springs, quaint towns and a history of being basically indifferent. Nobody messes with Switzerland because nobody thinks about them unless you’re reading the fine print upon viewing a movie that states you cannot make a copy of it.

I pictured my children running through wide open fields, with the sun basking down on their beautiful, smiling faces. I pictured my wife coming out of our historically accurate lakeside cottage telling us dinner was ready. I pictured me just returning from a day of work at some really cool company nestled into a majestic mountain ridge.

Basically, I saw us transported, just as we were, except without the fear.

That fear can be consuming; it is a fear that now lurks in the background of nearly everything we do. From going to sporting events or catching a flight, to walking past a tall building in the city or dropping off our kids at school, there is an unnatural hesitation about daily life in America.

Was it always this way? How would we know? We’re only us, unable to understand what it was like for our ancestors or past generations during their period of life in this country. I agree and enjoy this analysis by David Jones, where he essentially says America has been in worse spots historically and that we live in better times, we’re just more viscerally aware of threats of violence due to all our advancing technology.

While this most likely true and historically accurate, it somewhat negates what daily life is like with that information now. Now that we are more aware, what are we doing about it?

Today, the entire city of Boston was shut down by the manhunt for the perpetrators. Um…ever been to Boston? It’s, uh, a big city. Yeah. And residents were told to stay indoors. Transit was stopped. Without visuals, you picture some strange scene from a Michael Bay film where crumpled newspapers slowly blow through an empty downtown area.

We are paralyzed in these moments. We are paralyzed by the fear of the unknown. This is modern America, with a constant threat of foreign and domestic terror. And no, this is not over-dramatic.

Now, I hate to be a nudge, but are we supposed to just ignore all this? Is it purely a matter of getting tougher mentally and adjusting to life in our modern, American world? I ask mainly because we don’t seem to be doing very well.

Within an hour of Monday’s breaking news, each political party was finding ways to make this about sequesters and gun control and terrorism. Give it another three days; I’m sure 32- ounce soft drinks in New York City can be connected somehow.

We’ve reduced these events to either agenda talking points or punch lines. Or even worse, to justify the removal of liberties granted to us that make us uniquely American. Or, we’re just going to use it as an excuse to fight terror abroad.

Violence simply bringing more violence, in turn simply causing a greater sense of fear. And when people are scared, they will do anything to feel safe. Like give up their right to bear arms, or allow an ever-increasing society of security to become even more searched, scanned and patted down. We’re listening to people who couldn’t protect us before tell us how they plan to protect us now.

Maybe that is too much to ask, too great a burden to place. What is safety and security but a state of mind?

Our state of mind is constantly chaotic, full of information overload, complete with the graphic pictures, eyewitness accounts, news tickers, false reporting and numerous sources.

Here we are, glued and transfixed by the events – yet this information that is so readily available to us seems, well, developing. In a rush to be first, the networks are getting it wrong. Names, connections, the details – you know – the actual news.

At one point, one network featured commentators arguing over whether or not the suspects could be described as American, based on the grainy photos. We’re a melting pot, so how would you even begin to describe what an American looks like? See the problem?

A case can be made that these are indeed more trying times than at any point in human history. Is this a sign? Because these events are so horrifying, so unpredictable and nearly unspeakable, it could be seen as the beginnings of something much more. And that is simply because we live in a world of terrorism.

49749-comicstriponfearTerror doesn’t show decorum. There are no rules of war.

It’s difficult to place and compartmentalize these events, harder still to use logic and rationale. It is our inability to directly relate ourselves to random attacks that has us troubled as a society in general. In any situation, it’s safe to say that if that wasn’t us, it certainly could have been.

We’ve ran races or stood and watched family and friends. We send our children to school. We fly planes and work in large buildings. The events of the last decade-plus are worse than they were a hundred years ago simply because of the context in which they are occurring: everyday life. It’s not a war zone or on some predetermined battlefield where both sides are armed, with trained combat units, camouflage, guns and generals with battle plans.

The attacked are not forewarned. That’s why it’s called terror, because it truly is terrifying and unexpected. There is no time to prepare. The simple fact that while evil has always existed in this world, along with the good, both will find ways to achieve their goals, and this recent (in the context of history) development of terrorizing random people accomplishes more physical and psychological damage than we can probably even comprehend.

Which is what leads a person to go numb now, to draw a blank, in moments like Monday’s marathon bombing.

It is what leads a person as patriotic as me, someone who believes in and loves America and its history, to momentarily question my citizenship for the sake of my family, and the sake of my sanity.

And that’s when it hits you: when did the citizens of the world’s symbol of freedom reach a point where they would contemplate such a thing? Is it the political and social division? Is it the growing skepticism of government? Is it the loss of liberties and freedoms? Is it the taxes? Is it the continued loss of social normalcy and decorum?

This list could go on. Frankly, I’m just tired of thinking about it all, what it means and experiencing so many emotions around what this new world of fear looks and feels like. I just want to get to neutral, be peaceful and serene and eliminate the fear, for my family and for me.

Which is how you get to the point you are staring at a computer screen and typing in letters that spell out what feels like something safe.

Switzerland.

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Dr. Seuss, Eric Holder, John Brennan, motivation, Rand Paul, Society, Theodor Geisel, United States Senate

Unless


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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