Flaws

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.