Don’t Get Me Started

Today was a beautiful day, and I was able to enjoy it despite a slight hangover….

But, as I was walking home from the grocery store, I was assaulted. Well, my senses and sensitivity were assaulted - by a gentleman doing yard work, of all things. He was putting the final touches on his craftsmanship: blowing leaves into the street, the storm drains and the neighboring yard.

And, so it started. By the time I reached my front door, the list of pet peeves had grown exponentially.

We’re often asked what we like most – you know, as a networking ice-breaker or as an introduction to self-study. But, rarely are we asked about what we dislike. Without any urging, my brain had constructed the following list.

Yeah, I hate leaf blowers! There is a special place in the hereafter for the person who invented them, thinking it was a great idea (I have to concede it was apparently a profitable idea). Why not a leaf vacuum? Then, you could bag up those leaves and compost them instead of clogging the storm drains or moving them across the property line so they become someone else’s problem.

I strongly dislike the words “empower” and “empowerment.” They are overused and imply that one person holds all the power, but is willing to mete out a bit of it to chosen minions; and so, with a wave of the scepter, you are EMPOWERED - granted powers that were heretofore beyond your mortal dreams. No one has the power to empower me; I have to do it myself.

I really dislike cobblestone pavers (like the ones at the Piazza d’Italia in New Orleans). The architect who thinks that these quaint reminiscences of antiquity should be installed in a pedestrian way, anywhere, in this century, should have to walk in high heels over those same cobblestones for the rest of his life (I purposefully use the masculine form of the pronoun, because no woman would put these ankle-breakers on the ground).

I resent the corporate decisions that discontinue products I’ve used for years. They never ask ME how I feel about it. They never reassure me that their new product is “all that and more.” Sometimes, they don’t even introduce a new product; they just stop selling the one I’ve been buying. So, I have to start all over, alone in the grocery or drugstore aisle – reading labels, guessing what’s really inside the packaging, hoping . . .

I hate elected officials who think it’s their job to micromanage MY life. It seems to me they’ve got a big enough job to do – one that I don’t envy – without dictating how I should proceed, as long as I don’t endanger innocent bystanders! I don’t believe we can legislate morality. I don’t believe it is government’s role to be MY personal risk manager. Sure, public safety and public health are within their purview – so let them fix the bridges and set standards for construction; let them treat the water and waste . . . but, I’ve got issues with the presumption that I can’t decide whether to wear a seat belt or a helmet, whether or not to eat raw oysters, or what medical procedures I might choose.

Okay – enough! Like I said – don’t get me started!

The mind moves from the known to the known, and it cannot reach out into the unknown. You cannot think of something you do not know; it is impossible. What you think about comes out of the known, the past, whether that past be remote, or the second that has just gone by. This past is thought, shaped and conditioned by many influences, modifying itself according to circumstances and pressures, but ever remaining a process of time. . .

J. Krishnamurti, The Limits of Thought