Tag Archives: comedies

Decompress

Decompress: (v) to relax; unwind

When I was nine years old, a friend of mine jammed his finger.

It hurt.

No doubt about that.

But over the next week, through the urging of his mother, the jammed finger went from being a painful incident to a potentially lethal trauma.

Every day when I saw him, he had a new angle on how a jammed finger could lead to some sort of bizarre complication, culminating in a contorted death.

Honestly, I started avoiding him, waiting for his finger to heal, so that he could become normal again.

That has been my inclination with the human race.

Since most people think they have a jammed finger, they are prepared to exaggerate their wounds to make themselves feel more endangered.

Therefore I hate the word “decompress.”

I hear it all the time: “I am under so much pressure that I must get someplace and decompress.”

Really?

I guess I have a different definition for “pressure.”

To me, pressure is when you realize you’re going to die.

And even then, it’s a good idea to get a second opinion.

Everything short of death is problematic—and by problematic, I mean solvable.

I am just completely flummoxed as to why we think our lives are more intriguing when we express levels of breathless desperation.

Why is it more enticing to say, “I don’t think I’m going to make it,” than “I’ve had a bad week.”

Why must we think the world is going to end simply because we can’t find our favorite jar of pickles?

How in the hell important do we think we are?

For the record:

I do not need to decompress.

I do not require escaping somewhere to spend even more time musing over my plight.

I need to expand.

I must be around people who also have problems, and together, we can develop the good cheer of realizing that there doesn’t seem to be anything life has come up with that can destroy us.

If we reach that point, we gain a certain lightness of spirit—an irrepressible joy that makes us love ourselves and valuable to those around us.

Don’t decompress.

Just don’t get yourself in a position where you take things too seriously.

In life there are no dramas—there are just comedies, and sometimes we don’t get the joke.

 

Clump

Clump: (v) to form into a clump or mass.

There is an unwritten command to never challenge contradictions–especially if they are well-populated or in some way garner profit.

Yet it is what maintains the presence of a universal ignorance, which on occasion, rears its head and growls at humanity because we refuse to rectify the obvious.

The objection should be simple.

For instance, we maintain that human beings are individuals unto themselves while insisting that we have a predilection to “clump together.” Our excuse for this anomaly is that there are times when we want to be autonomous, and other occasions when being part of a group is essential to our well-being.

This paradox is supported all over our society, from religion to politics, entertainment to business, simply because there are so many adherents and it allows us to make a lot of money from lifting up one culture above another.

No one stops to ask if clumping is good for people, or under what auspices linking together is positive, and when it is running for the corner of the room to avoid responsibility.

When should I clump?

Should I clump because I’m in a room with people of German descent?

Should I clump because I’m around a congregation of believers who favor my view of the Eternal?

Should I clump because I have a penis instead of a vagina and find those who share that appendage?

Should I clump because I like romantic comedies better than adventure films?

And once I decide on clumps I want to pursue, how do I escape them to gain my own uniqueness and flavor?

Maybe there’s only one clump–the human race. And we escape the human race by temporarily splitting off to our own thoughts, which prepares us to come back and be more gracious to one another.

 

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Aladdin’s Lamp

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Aladdin’s lamp: (n) a talisman enabling its holder to gratify any wish

I guess I’ve thought about this. Who hasn’t?

What would I do with three wishes?

It’s been the plotline of dramas and comedies throughout the history of entertainment. And indirectly, both religion and politics have alluded to such an unlikely possibility.

I guess, for me, it’s easy. Before pursuing three wishes, I would have to deal with my own needs. Maybe I should use a wish for it: “I wish I understood my own heart better.”

What is my heart?

  • It’s the emotional part of me which controls who I am, which I publicly deny as having any authority over my being.
  • It is how I carefully learn to maneuver my selfishness into a practical application which still includes room for others.
  • It’s where I learn to budget sufficiency until it becomes wealth.
  • My heart is a place where I am no longer afraid to express my feelings for fear of transparency
  • It is a journey into a cave with the hope of finding light at the end of the tunnel.
  • It is admitting that I have love for myself which I should translate equally to others.
  • It is taking my position as the “light of the world” and the “salt of the earth” without it ending up being a pompous boast.
  • It is stopping to think that if I am thirsty, someone else might need a cup of cold water.
  • It is clearing out my inner being without being afraid of discovering too many rats and spiders.

Yes, before I could rub Aladdin’s lamp and promote my three wishes, I would have to understand what I really desire and why it is of value to me.

After all, what is of more consequence?

The idea? Or the person who thinks?

The prayer? Or the faithful soul?

The well-sung hymn? Or the passionate singer?

Sometimes we forget: wishing for things means they have to be used by people.

In order for that to be effective, we should wish for understanding.