I don’t
know what’s happening lately. I don’t
know if it's me or if it’s them, but it feels like I am surrounded by
complainers. I almost can’t stand it.
With
every year that I live, I’m just not sure how much longer the complaints and
complainers can be a part of my life. The
whole business is fucking exhausting. Nothing
is ever right. Their food is always too
cold. Someone is always getting on their nerves. Their probation officer won’t overlook the
one dirty pee test. Gah!
I’m
reading Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. If you haven’t read it, you should. It’s a book that should be mandatory in high
school. It’s one that I just may put on
my ‘Once a Year’ reading list.
Dr.
Frankl survived four different Nazi concentration camps. The first half of his book describes his
experiences in the camps. Reading the pages will tear your heart out. The conditions. The cruelty.
The hunger. Can you imagine
saving one cigarette for months in the hopes of trading it for food? Holy hell.
The thing that killed me was that while
in the midst of all of this, Dr. Frankl realized that the only thing he owned
were his choices. How he would choose to
think and react to each humiliating and soul sucking moment. Even with absolutely nothing – not even his
name - he still had something: control over his mind. He surmised that he could choose not to give
in to the apparent hopelessness of the situation…and he was in a fucking
concentration camp.
Compared to that, we live in the
lap of luxury. We can afford to discard
food. We have indoor plumbing and
electricity. We have the luxury of boredom.
There are no guerilla factions waiting in the wings to stage a
coup. We have access to free
education. Being illiterate is not the
norm. We have fucking Costco. We have the First Amendment.
Opportunities ad nauseam. It’s why people want to come here.
People here complain about the long
line at Starbucks. That ‘there isn’t any Wi-Fi here’. That the blazer they ordered from Barney’s
is on back-order. They complain because
Ben Affleck is Batman. They complain that there are no more sweaters in their dog's size.
It’s like it’s a sport. It’s like it’s the way to be. I’m not immune, mind you. Sometimes, I’ll just throw in an errant
(sometimes made up) complaint just to keep it moving. I’ve noticed that after a while, people expect
you to have a complaint. Have you ever
been in a situation where if you didn’t haven’t a complaint of some sort, it
felt like you didn't have anything substantive to add to the conversation?
I understand the premise that
suffering is relative. One man’s trash
and all, but goddamit, enough is enough.
There is so much beauty all around
us, if we just shut our traps and take a look.
Just start where you are – your
heart still beats.
Looks like you’re
already winning.
