10 years. A milestone for myriad occasions. High school graduations, marriages, employment. A nice round number: long enough to have seen many changes, not so long as to make you forget where it all began, so you can still recognize change. 10 years since two planes flew into NYC skyscrapers, one into the Pentagon, and one into Terra Firma, PA. Truly a turning point for our nation, but in retrospect, it seems like we may have made a wrong turn.

Historically, tragedy has been a force of growth and definition for our country. Pearl Harbor, for example, galvanized a nation to war, proving beyond doubt our military and economic prowess, which netted us global dominance in many arenas. Granted, we already held international respect for many of our accomplishments, specifically our burgeoning trade and industry. WWII, though, showed the world that we meant business, and while the attach in Hawaii was tragic, it slingshot us to greatness. At least for a time.

Countless regional disasters have also served to gird the loins of American prosperity. The Chicago fires, the major earthquakes in California, etc. Each of these led to a reanalysis of laws, policies, and they were expanded–sometimes created–to create a better place, safer and more conducive to our lifestyle. And after these, we succeeded. We became wealthy, successful, and respected. Not by everyone, of course, but what country is? Then came 2001. We were coming off of a largely economically successful presidency (and there are always arguments on either side of that issue), and hopes were high that it would continue. Then came September 11.

The events of that day plunged our country into a panicked frenzy. Mobs were attacking any brown person around. Merchants were gouging consumers, who were equally scared. Our people were hurting our own out of fear, and maybe even a little greed, but even with that, we eventually learned to quell the violence. But many never learned to quell the hatred. Our news media, the purported voices of reason, spread fear and hate for ratings, and what’s worse, there are people who take the pundits at face value. They spew hatred and intolerance, and people just eat it up. Internalize it. Realize it. As a result, our reputations has become that we are the pulse of intolerance and ignorance. And, simply, it’s repulsive.

It’s now 10 years later, and a lot has happened. We entered two unending theaters of war, we found and captured one dictatorial leader, who was hung amidst celebration by his mistreated people. Then, we actually found and killed the man believed to be behind the very attacks that happened 10 years ago. We killed him, too. Amidst these military victories, we have also given up a number of civil rights, and pieces of our sense of decency. We’ve allowed our disabled and elderly to be humiliated at the hands of under-trained and overzealous airport security guards. We are as confused and scared and flummoxed as ever, and this is after 10 (T-E-N) years.

The media will be talking all day about how we should be honoring the memories of the people who died. But we’ve done a pretty poor job of that in the last decade haven’t we, then? Our grand memorial at ground zero has barely been started, largely due to money grubbing and squabbling amongst contractors. We have let fear take over our media. There is still wide-spread and unilateral hatred of anyone with brown skin. What have we become, really?

We have not honored these peoples’ lives. And we won’t ever, not until we step back and reprioritize. We are losing money hand over fist to two wars, despite our crippling debt, which is made worse by inactive political leaders, too powerful corporate lobbies, and corporations grabbing for every last dollar without giving back to the communities which fostered their grown from their infancies. It’s made worse by desperation and frustration of the millions looking for jobs. It’s made worse by helplessness and hopelessness in change. We really need to just step back and look at what it means to be American. To be us, not to police the world, not to tell any other country what government is good and what is bad.

We need to just “do us,” for a while, at least until we’re back on our feet and not still reeling from poor decision making and a sucker punch that happened 10 years ago. We need to regroup, refocus, and look at what we lost. Then, we need to move forward. Build from that loss, and do what we’ve always done: come back better and stronger than ever before. But how?

I don’t know. How do you get out of the wars we’ve started? How do you step back and regroup? I have no idea, but something’s got to give, and it cannot be the already flagging American vigor and livelihood. The successful plan is the plan which brings us back to our roots. The plan that reignites the ingenuity and sheer force of will that brought us through so many tragedies in the past. That’s the plan I’ll be looking for.

**NOTE: I understand that not everyone who will read this is an American. I am, though, so please excuse me when I say “our country.” I do not mean to imply that you are included in the collective, just me and the rest of the Americans.

We never really spent any time together, with few small exceptions. But you were a pretty cool guy. Just quiet. And at the time, I didn’t know what to do with that. I had not yet reached that point where silence was understandable. Even a good thing.

We progressed through high school, never being much more than just acquaintances, despite that we were always in the same classes. Seeing each other, never knowing each other. I’m sorry I wasn’t more open and didn’t pursue more of a friendship. I was kind of a jerk back then.

I wonder where you are now. How you’re doing. What you have made of yourself. If you ever became more assertive. Will I ever find out? I don’t know. I hope you are well, and I hope we run into each other sometime.

Sit back and let your mind get blown by the genius of this man.

Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.

This is sort of a silly prompt. I don’t live my life for anyone. I live my life because it’s my life to live. It’s not a matter of selfishness, because I have often (and will continue) to give parts of my life to other people. Much of my life has been given to my wife, my family. But I don’t live it for them. I don’t stay alive because of them.

That’s not to say they haven’t been a source of inspiration in my life, a pick-me-up when I get frustrated or tired. How could they not be? I mean, when you’ve given so much of yourself to these people, it becomes a matter of making sure you can continue to do that. Perhaps this is the same thing as “living your life for them,” but I don’t think so. The whole idea presented in this prompt is a bit melodramatic, I think.

I picture a man trying to swim across an ocean, and the only thing that keeps him going is some lost love on the other shore. Otherwise, he’d just quit and drown. I don’t guess I’ve reached that point. I may have given up on a few select projects or what have you, but I don’t imagine I would have laid down and died.

I also realize that this post is, on its face, contradictory to my last post. But I also don’t think it is. Just because I can’t really fathom a life without my wife or family, that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it, or that I wouldn’t continue on. It just means that I don’t want to, not that I can’t.

In any event, I guess this is all a non-answer to the question. But I don’t think you should ever live your life for someone else. You can choose to include others in your life, and you can choose to give of your life to other, but in the end, it’s your life. Not anyone else’s. And if your life isn’t worth living but for another person? Maybe you should reevaluate your priorities.

The selfishness, the anger, the ridiculousness. It never ceases to amaze me how childish you people can be when you don’t get your way. When you don’t get the blue one, because only the red ones are left. When the store IS RUINING CHRISTMAS for your children because they have the wrong Spiderman action figure. Ugh.

I just want to grab you and shake you until you’re dizzy and drooling. Tell you just to chill out. Because, hey, they’ve still got Spiderman toys. YOUR CHILD’S CHRISTMAS IS NOT RUINED. Because they’re still getting presents, they’re still going to feel loved, they’re still going to just disregard them in a few days anyway.

CHRISTMAS IS SAVED, but the world is a worse place because you can’t seem to grow up. Can’t seem to see past your own nose. Can’t seem to comprehend a world outside of you. So get over yourself. Take a long look at your life, your family. Be happy. Get the other toy instead. Because, after all, it’s still going to be awesome for your kid. The world won’t collapse. Your child (probably) won’t murder you in your sleep. It’s still going to be great watching your kid tear into all those presents you bought.

No matter what, no action great or small, can ever stop the world from spinning. Remember that.

Sincerely,
Thursday’s Child

He’s self-sure, and convinced of himself. Demanding, and controlling, a modern-day Napoleon. Tweaking and primping, and doing anything to make sure he’s still in charge. He is not a big man.

She never smiles, though she would be beautiful if she did. The daily grind, it seems, has her down. Her hair never teased, her clothes always a little wrinkled, with a few stains from her children scattered about. But she shows up every day, and works hard. Is that the American Dream?

Hunched over, white beard reaching halfway down his chest. He hobbles along, determined to get through the day. He doesn’t have anyone else, but he manages all the same. No electric help, no wheels, nothing but his own locomotion. He is a big man.

Her hair is a different color nearly every day. She’s young, and she could be beautiful, but her lack of confidence shows through every pore. She’s struggling; her eyes tell a hard, bitter story. Angry and confused, she’s just doing what she knows, and that’s to survive.

When you are 15: When I grow up, I want to be a teacher. A soldier. A college student. An executive. A doctor. A Lawyer. Rich.

When you are 25: When I grow up, I want to be happy. Successful. Rich. A mother. A father. A business owner. My own boss.

It’s funny how dreams and goals change as we get older. They become less fanciful, more practical. And I guess that makes sense. As we get older, we have a better grasp on how things work, on how the world really plays out, and it’s less a matter of being jaded, more a matter of being realistic. Pragmatic. And that’s a good thing, for sure. I mean, not everyone can be an astronaut or a fairy princess.

I guess I’ve just found myself thinking a lot lately about dreams and goals, and how to make them happen. It struck me as funny today how drastically different they are today than they were 5 years ago. 10 years ago. 20 years ago. Today, it’s graduate school, and a PhD, some day teaching as a professor. At some future date, I would also like to open a restaurant, or at least have a giant kitchen where I can cook lots of food for friends and family.

I once had dreams of being an engineer. Of developing weapons. Making things that protect some people and kill others. I don’t now know why I was so interested in that field, but that’s what I wanted to do. R&D development for GE. Now, I can’t even imagine doing that job. I realized that engineering would drive me nuts, and as for the weapons part, I cannot imagine myself building machines made to kill people. But that was the plan. The goal. The dream.

Now, I’d prefer to trade the lab coat for tweed, the calipers for a pen, and a lathe for a poem. And I’m okay with that.

What were some of your old dreams or goals that have now changed to better fit who you’ve become?

Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.

This is a tough one. As a general rule, I don’t stay mad for very long. At least, not any more. In days past, I was quite the grudge holder, but it’s become apparent to me that holding such grudges doesn’t result in anything positive or productive, so I tend to get mad, get over it, and move on whenever someone has wronged me in some way.

The movies and TV have a common trope, “I’ll never forgive you for that!” But, really, I just don’t see that working out in general practice. I mean, I suppose this could be possible in theory, if you were to catch a cheating spouse, or something along those lines, but I’ve never run into that before.

If I had to choose, I have one instance in mind, but I haven’t really thought about it in a while. I once had a person in my life with whom I grew quite close, we’ll call her Susan (since being vague can be confusing). Susan was a great friend. She believed in me, encouraged me, saw talent potential in me that no one but my parents had ever really seen, or at least verbalized. She even helped me through some dark times.

Until one day, there was practically nothing. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know why there was such a sudden disconnect, but disconnect we did. The break was dazzlingly abrupt, and will forever go without explanation. I was pretty disenfranchised with people when this whole thing went down. I just couldn’t imagine how drastically a relationship could shift in such a short time. I was bitter about it, and I was angry. But, I worked around it. Was able to continue on anyhow.

And I guess, I just got over it. It took time, but I’ve found motivation in myself and in the others around me to continue to push, to reach my goals, even if I don’t think anyone really quite gets my goals as well as she did. But, when it’s all said and done, I’m okay. I’m moving forward, if a bit slowly, and that’s what counts.

I forgive you for just suddenly disappearing. It was tough, but it’s all worked out okay.

In other news, well, there isn’t a lot of other news. Eat, work, sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s such a drag sometimes, waking up every morning to do the same thing over and over again. Bells, beeping, screaming children. But like I wrote last saturday, it’s just a means to an end. Just a stepping stone on to something greater.

But I got to thinking even more about that. I suppose it’s more than a means to an end. It’s also a wealth of experience, not just on a resume, but also in terms of life. I have seen the bowels of society, but I’ve also seen people at their best. Helping others, being kind, and (above all) being gracious to those who don’t know better. And in the end, that’s more valuable than any of the money, and it really justifies all those bad days, all those days spent flitting from one irritating situation to another.

Those are, each of them, a part of who I am now. They will always be with me, even when I can no longer remember specifics. They will continue to inform my choices, my mannerisms, my whole being. Forever. They can either make me cynical or they can make me learn, and hope that maybe there’s something different. Or, for the good ones, they can make me aspire to be so selfless. Or so caring. Or so gracious.

Good bad, ugly, and soul-sucking. Everything counts, and everything affects your life more than you might realize, whether for good or ill. Even if it’s something as mundane as your days at work.