I haven’t written any blog posts in a while because, to
be honest, I am just content. There isn’t
much that bothers me, saddens me or angers me. I haven’t been in a writing
mood much lately because I find myself using any extra time outside of studying
or my duties in the hospital for pleasure reading, relaxing, working out and
sleeping more—things I enjoy. The drive
to/from Athens from/to Atlanta is a great one for putting the windows down and
playing some music. Various thoughts
inadvertently come through my head during these long drives.
I was discussing flaws with a friend of mine some time
ago and there is something about that topic that I can say with
conviction: I love flaws.
Flaws make a person more real. Actually, most of these “flaws” are just
things that we consider different. How
are any of us to judge what is considered a flaw and what is not? For example, is the fact that I'm in a wheelchair a flaw?
I meet and have met a lot of people. I have spoken to them and sometimes listened
to their stories. And sometimes I am
surprised; it really surprises me the way some people—a lot of people—think.
It seems like a lot of people are obsessed with trying to
live a perfect life, raise perfect children, become the perfect student/professional/husband/wife
and expect their plans to unfold as perfectly as possible.
But we are not perfect.
Life isn’t perfect. Things rarely
unfold as expected.
We do things that our family and friends don’t know
about. We do things other elders or
religious folks would look down upon.
We make mistakes.
Sometimes, we are the mistakes.
And that’s okay.
We all have a collection of life experiences. Sometimes when I see people striving towards
being perfect to the point that they judge or look down upon others, I somewhat
have pity on them.
It baffles me sometimes when I think how close-minded
some people are, even by most of those who do not consider themselves
close-minded at all. I encourage everyone
to try meeting new people regularly, especially those completely different from
us and who “our parents told us to stay away from”. But do not limit it to just “meeting” these
people. Almost everyone has contact with
new people all the time. People should
take this one step further and learn
about the person. Learn about their
experiences, their views, their “flaws”.
Listen to their stories.
In the same manner, I also somewhat have to shake my head
when I speak with those who have never truly left their small circle. They may attend college or have jobs but they
still live in the same locale that they always have, they have not left their
security and safety nets, they still have the same “type” of friends that they
always have had and some even have lived at home with their families most of
their lives.
I write to express myself. I write to think things through.
Another big part of why I write is to show people that
though I may be different, others can relate.
My experiences may be unique but so are others’.
When I meet people who have lived in a metaphorical “box”—and
there are many like this—I am not very
impressed, no matter how intelligent or pious they may seem to others. Who do I admire more? Those who have experimented, who have messed
up, who know the disturbances life can bring to people, who have tried and
failed—and kept going, despite all of this, and have changed their
circumstances so that they are in a different place, figuratively and possibly
even literally speaking.
Move out. Move
away. Explore.
Widen your circle of compassion. It’s okay to fall.
