Tiny Plastic Houses

Note to Self:

• People are NOT Slippers.
• Relationships are NOT like riding a bike.
• Friendships are NOT like in the movies.
• You do NOT have to bend so far you break.
• Loyalty is hard to come by.
• Adulting is hard.

I find it problematic how I readily attach myself to people and then five minutes later watch that adoration turn to distaste. I wonder if it’s just me or does everyone experience such gut wrenching (and sometimes sudden) turns of favor? Or are they turns of chance? Turns of perception?

The war betwixt good and bad, right and wrong, rages behind these eyes everyday… and the question of what makes it “right” vs. “wrong” and who decides what’s right for me and mine taints nearly every interaction I have.

My moral compass is strong, but it does not always point in the direction yours does — So does that make it wrong?

I’ve always taught the children compassion thusly: Villains and heroes are exactly the same depending on which line you stand behind. If a wiry teen out for a joyride with his buds steals a stop sign, then he should be punished by the law of those that own it as he is surely a deviant… Right? What about his friends — The ones who worshipped him as a god following? To them, trouble or not, he is a hero. Ok – a little too far into the gray area for some, so let’s try this scenario: A man holds a gun on an unsuspecting teen manning the counter of a local gas station. He gets away with $300 in cash and a slew of grocery-type items and scares the crap out of the youth immensely. He should be caught and punished like the criminal he is… But what about his family that can’t afford groceries, clothing, or any number of simple necessities. When he walks in the door with a box of Twinkies, a two-liter of Mt. Dew, a new pair of sneakers for little Johnny and an extra $250 to be put toward that errant water bill that keeps threatening to be shut off, he is a hero.

See? It’s all subjective and every situation has to be looked at from all sides. Sure, I play stupid most days. It makes it easier for people to accept me. That action of “letting them get one over on me.” The letting them have a secret to feel comfortable enough to address me with is a small price to pay for the friendships that blossom and sometimes grow… And I am the jovial master of all and none.

Confusion, it seems, is a bedfellow of mine — and one I know all too well.