Fair is fair
Drip a drop a tiny stone leaves meandering ripples
I am not perfect. I am aware of many of my faults. I am sure I have faults that I am currently unaware of.
I know I can be indecisive.
I know I do things because it feels right and I totally trust in that feeling. I feel guided.
I know I think I am always right. Or at least that I know better.
I know I have a hard time receiving praise, gifts, affection with an open and welcoming soul.
I know I’m not good at staying connected with those I love.
I also know that I have a hard time imagining why anyone would think I am interesting. I don’t see myself as exciting, thought provoking, intriguing, sexy, or any of those things. I am just me.
I know the saying, “hindsight is 20/20” has always bothered me. No. I don’t think it is. I think we think it is. I think we delude ourselves. And you know… I know better.
I know I am impatient when it comes to: inconsiderateness, selfishness, hatred, greed, and other self centered behaviors that are focused on our own planned obsolescence and not on the overall good for the world…. and I know that I am frequently impatient with myself for some of those reasons.
I am tired of worrying about fair when the world is burning.
That’s not fair! There is so much that is “not fair” in this world. Poverty, housing, wealth, the whole capitalistic system, the iceberg that hit the titanic, the tornado that blew through a local town, the dog I hit one Thanksgiving night as I drove to a party… so much that’s not fair that we just go along with. So much that is not fair that we don’t really do anything about.
Fair would have Trump… and so many others with wealth and power, behind bars. But they know how, and have the wealth, to play the fair system. And they are so good at it that we think it’s marvelous that they’re so clever… uhm… yeah. NO.
Fair would have the mom and dad that both work 60 hours a week at minimum wage able to afford a house and not have to worry about food for their kids.
Fair would have those with wealth and power do their share of physical actual labor… and actually work for their $1,000 a minute… or whatever absurd income they have that they “earn”… uhm… yeah. NO.
Work is work. The rest is just rules made up by those with the power to make rules. (If they’re making up rules about “work”, they’re probably not working).
Fair would be a world where state lotteries didn’t exist because everyone already felt like they have what they need… Lotteries are odd.
Fair would be leaving a world that is livable for the next generations.
Fair.
And then someone screams,
“That’s not fair” and invariably… I really don’t care. No, it’s not. But what you are screaming about is minor. Yeah, that person cut in front of you in line. Yeah, that kid got a lollipop and you didn’t. Yeah, I got the last donut - and enjoyed it. Yeah, I have to take the trash out every week while my fellow apartment dwellers don’t even seem to notice… Yeah… Fair is… annoying.
If you want to get things done worrying about fair can be a waste of time. It could be done by the time you’ve finished complaining.
Fair.
At some point in our relationship Katie and I realized that fair is not equal. If one enjoys the giving and the other enjoys the receiving… that can work quite well. One might provide stability and the other chaos. As the stability provider it is amazing how welcome a source of chaos can be. I need it. Really. And she needed me to settle her down. And it worked. Not evenly. Not equal in any way.
At least I needed a lot of chaos in the past. I don’t know that I still want the chaos I sought before. Elke, Nicolle and Katie all provided an extensive set of chaos. I was just me. Their chaos has left me with a constant feeling of insecurity.
I worried a lot. Too much. I think maybe now I just want a little chaos and less worry. That would be fair. Bring me a loving, caring, chaos.
Chaos. If I don’t have any I get complacent. I don’t do things. My creativity dies. I’ll just sit contented and let the world wither away. I need to be fixing things. Supporting things. Helping things. Milding the chaos to a tolerable level. That’s what I do.
Milding… I made that up.
Fair… Katie would be so mad at me! Here. In this substack I’ve posted things that she would have never let me talk about. I’ve shared things she would never have let me share. If I had gone ahead and shared them she would have ripped me a new one. Yup. Fair. Sorry Katie. It’s all out now. I honestly don’t think the approach of hiding things was healthy.
Regardless, she can’t argue with me now. I can post all the emotional stuff I want to about her and our relationship. I do have the end goal of hopefully making life better for someone else. Maybe what I write will connect. Maybe what I write will help someone through a tough time. Maybe life will seem more “fair” if they realize someone else was going through the same thing. If it doesn’t, I do know that it offers me a certain amount of catharsis. Catharsis that I didn’t have for years.
Fair. Katie, my love, I hope you know I’m trying to help. It is not to spite you.
And then sometimes I want to write things - emotional things - about people I know now that might be reading this substack. That’s hard. But this is my dumping ground. My space to show that emotions and thinking are okay. Sharing is okay. Being open is okay.
And it’s not fair to them. I should probably talk to them first - but I’m working it out. This is the process and I don’t want to censor my brain… hmmph. Fair.
Today I knew I needed to create a little. I wrote some Haiku. There are two Haiku clusters. Two stories - flows of thought, if you will. They do sort of flow together.
(note: photo taken after the haiku were written - I just had a mental image while writing)
ONE Water Delicate Hangs a bomb, tendril, tear, clear mirror and window Left to right, balance Symmetry in spherical Spin, delay, linger Encapsulated Inside… a tiny landscape A foreverland A transparency Refract, condense and disperse Prism as solitude Until it tumbles A waving circus mirror Sphere falls to shatter and TWO Gauge the intimate. Her hands touch, touch, touch, hundreds. I feel only hers. I am a drop, one in a glassful she pours out every day. Giving. I am a drop, one that is my entire being. It settles my soul. Drop, or no, a stone in a giant, firm, brick wall. Insignificant? Slight breeze, rain, earthquake. Stone I am falls away. Speck that goes unnoticed. Or - Stone I am, small. A thousand others on my mighty cornerstone Or - Drop I am, small. Seeping deep into dry soil, Hydrating the soul.