Tag Archives: complaining

Cross to Bear

Cross to bear: burden or trial one must put up with

It’s not about how much you’re carrying; it’s about how much you’re grunting and complaining.

From an honest heart, I will tell you:

Many of the things we feel we suffer are self-inflicted wounds we’ve refused to treat and therefore, they’ve become infected.

Then we bitch about the infection, failing to notice that we’ve ignored the open wound.

Although there may be validity to the notion that each one of us bears a cross, much of the burden that is upon us is self-induced, self-prescribed and self-contained.

How do we know the difference between a difficulty that requires perseverance and one that is waiting for us to drop it off at the emotional dump heap?

Two quick questions should help a lot:

  1. Have solutions been offered that I’ve rejected because I’ve decided I’m stuck with my predicament?

Because if I get caught in a fire, rather than acting doomed, I’m at least going to try to piss on it to put it out.

It is ridiculous to accept our lot—especially if we believe it’s been divinely thrust upon us by an interfering deity.

  1. Is there any way I can share the weight of a particular responsibility with another person without hurting him or her, or coming across as a complete wimp?

Very often in my life, the box that needs to be carried into the house is much lighter when I ask a friend to help—but often I don’t, Because otherwise, how could I stumble into the room, breathless, screaming for someone to find a table where I can put it down?

There is great drama in believing that we are so important that some tribulation has purposely targeted us.

But for me, I’d rather sit on my big fat ass and think things through to a conclusion than try to find nobility in suffering.

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Creator

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Creator: (n) a person or thing that creates.

The top four things, in order, that wear out my soul in order, beginning with Number Four:

  1. Serious discussions that end up with people pouting.
  2. Feeling sorry for myself because I’m stuck in traffic.
  3. My own intolerance showing up, exposing me for the fallible son-of-a-bitch I sometimes am.

And now, Number One:

Incessant barking, preaching, complaining, questioning and postulating on the subject of God.

Is there a Creator?

Let me be blunt—I only have one reason that I want a Creator. It’s because it makes me feel more valuable.

Without a Creator, I have to envision that I am a stop on the evolutionary chain, somewhere between protoplasm and infinity.

Yuk. I don’t want to feel that way.

It makes the other three things I mentioned even more aggravating. Traffic seems more congested, my intolerance tends to have some deeper meaning, and for some unrealistic reason, getting serious about ludicrous matters makes me feel grown-up.

I need a Creator because I need to feel created, so that I will want to be creative.

Did you get that?

Creator, created, creative.

When I don’t feel created, I have no desire whatsoever to change my circumstance when bitching about it seems to adequately fill the time.

I do not find that believing in a Creator makes people better, and that disbelieving makes them worse. But sometimes, cuddling up to the idea that we are purposely constructed by a divine order does make the journey seem a little sweeter.

Otherwise, we begin to look around the room, the nation and the world, rolling our eyes, thinking internally: Hell, is that all there is?

 

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Craw

Craw: (idiom) to rankle

When I received the menu at the Getting Older Cafeteria, there were many items listed which were unappetizing:

  • Chronic pain
  • Memory slips
  • Aching joints
  • Slower movement

But some of the nastier dishes afforded to those who are joining the Gang Just Over the Hill are:

  • Fussy
  • Self-righteous
  • Judgmental
  • And cranky

All of these particular offerings place those with “graying futures” in dispositions where things start sticking in their craw.

It’s an old-time phrase—matter of fact, many younger folks would not know the meaning (and should be commended for their ignorance). But they would recognize the phrase easily if you changed it to a word they are more accustomed to: bratty.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I guess you reach a certain age when you just can’t be a brat—so what you have to do instead is “get something stuck in your craw.”

The two conditions certainly appear to be the same. The sour facial expressions are identical. The grumping and complaining, spot-on.

But once your birthdays have accumulated to a certain heap, you are no longer allowed to be a brat. You just get things stuck in your craw.

I, myself, am very careful to make sure this never happens to me. So intent was I to guarantee that nothing got stuck in my craw that I actually went out and had my craw removed.


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Converge

Converge: (v) to meet in a point or line

Let us take this morning and see if we can get some of our ideas to converge. Don’t feel pressure, but I will offer some possibilities which will allow for convergence in our thinking, and therefore unity in our purposes.

  1. Talking a lot about God does not make you godly.
  2. Arguing about politics doesn’t seem to solve problems.
  3. Pointing out the differences between men and women is not helpful for acquiring the harmony necessary for human life.
  4. Judging people by the color of their skin is just as ridiculous as having favorite colors in fruit.
  5. Faith without works is dead.
  6. Having a conversation via text will never be as intimate as sharing a cup of coffee.
  7. The end of the world cannot be stopped by any one person, so we should singularly enjoy the Earth until it is no longer available.
  8. Complaining stops learning, which stops understanding, which promotes war.
  9. The world is filled with tribulation, so our best bet is to be of good cheer.
  10. Agreeing with someone else doesn’t make you stupid or absent ideas—just agreeable.

There are a few beginners—where we might converge our energies and work together instead of standing afar, peering at each other like cave people who are afraid that “those strangers over there” are going to steal our mastodon.

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Constant

Constant: (adj) occurring continuously over a period of time.

I call them “weenie words.” These are exaggerated terms we use to either gain sympathy or establish our prowess.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Constant is one of those words.

“I am constantly in pain.”

I’m sorry–highly unlikely.

“I am praying constantly for you.”

I hope not. Please set aside some time for your life.

“I am constantly exercising to stay in shape.”

So what’s the advantage of being in shape if you don’t have time to flaunt it?

“I am constantly wrestling with insomnia.”

O-h-h-h, I don’t know. I’ll come back in about fifteen minutes and see you dozing.

There are certain constants that would be good, but you rarely hear them:

“I am constantly learning to be a better person through my mistakes.”

“I am constantly being reminded that I’m not as good as I think I am.”

“I am constant in my need for people to inform me when I’m being an asshole.”

Constant is a weenie word–a choice of language we make when we’re trying to impress, complain or insist that we’ve done everything humanly possible.

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Consequence

Consequence: (n) a result or effect of an action or condition

It is astounding that the Creator, along with Mother Nature, allows infirmity for those who have become wiser, and grants energy to the stupid.

When I was much younger, I had a “F.A.T. Me” philosophy. To put it in common, everyday, street lingo, it stands for: “Fucking Adjust To Me.”

I recognized that people did matter, traditions were in place, and even, to some extent, that the natural order of the Earth cycled in with purpose.

Yet if any of that contradicted my immediate desire, my attitude was “F.A.T. Me.”

It took many years of consequences–which refused to adjust to me–to finally conclude that pain was certainly worse than me evolving toward reason.

Now, what makes this interesting is that the transition I’m speaking of is not determined by age. God knows there are people in their seventies, even eighties, who funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
still think that everyone should “fucking adjust to them.”

They start out with a frown, then heave a deep sigh, hoping to scare you away from your objection, and then, if you persist, come with a full onslaught of incessant complaining.

If you give in, you are subject to the height and breadth of their insight.

If you decide you don’t want to battle the entire Earth, but instead, stand against their predilection, you will have to endure some really nasty attitude.

There are consequences that have been in place for so long that they are not impressed with the F.A.T. ME.

The sooner you realize that the Earth has been doing the Earth for so long that it pretty well knows what is “Earth-like,” then you can grow up–and be a successful Earthling.

 

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Confess

Confess: (v) to admit or state that one has committed a crime or is at fault in some way

I am fat.

At least 51% of this is my fault.

I am a recovering “liarholic.”

Please help me stay away from the booze of explanation.

I am self-piteous.

Not as much as I used to be. (Of course, adding that caveat expresses a little self-pity.)funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I am egotistical.

But I have been careful to immerse myself in the beauty of humility to avoid the cesspool of humiliation.

I am still somewhat opinionated.

Yet I am generally able to avoid this vice by putting invisible duct tape over my mouth.

I am capable of judging people.

This one is especially dangerous, since I am incapable of being judged.

I am occasionally ungrateful…

As I learn to be grateful for every occasion.

I still catch myself complaining.

I am so relieved when I stop and my brain opens back up for business.

I am vulnerable to sin.

I do so much better when sin and I take different paths home.

I am learning to confess.

Word has it that such an endeavor is the only true doorway to healing.

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Coated

Coated: (n) a layer of covering

I, for one, appreciate and enjoy the candy coating on my aspirin.

I know it’s just a brief whiz-by of sweetness, but it keeps me from tasting any of that aspirin flavor that sticks in the back of your throat and makes you cough.

It’s just damned considerate.

This crossed my mind about twenty years ago, but I didn’t really do anything about it until last year. (Sometimes it takes nineteen years to work up the gumption to follow through on one of your own pieces of brilliance.)

But twenty years ago, I thought to myself, the problem with human relationships is that they aren’t candy-coated.

We walk around with some adult, grown-up notion that things should be nasty, and the more bitter they are the better it is–because we’ll end up with such a great, complaining story.

It wasn’t until last year that I realized that this applied to me. I was waiting for somebody else to put it into practice. But then I sat down one afternoon and realized that I am sometimes hard to swallow:

I can be bitter

I can be nasty

I can be sour.

And the truth of the matter is, my responsibilities require that I use candor and truthfulness to get the job done. After all, can there be anything worse than a writer who’s a liar–which may force him to write more lies later?

Yet there are human ingredients of sweetness that can be added to truth, so that we can feel love as we embrace reality.

May we never lose kindness.

May we never forget the power of being gentle.

May we always take into consideration a sense of humor.

And certainly, may our daily lives be blessed by the power of apology and the simplicity of a thank you.

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Chronicle

Chronicle: (n) a factual written account of events

It is a rather humbling thought–that each one of us basically makes our appearance on Earth and disappears, all within a hundred years.

A hundred years may sound like a lot if you’re five years old, but by the time you reach fifty, it is melting like summer ice.

Truthfully we all leave one lasting impression behind. How did we chronicle our journey?

Because we do chronicle it–through our attitude, our faith, our persistence, our interactions and our willingness to evolve and adapt.

Some people choose to chronicle Earth by acting like they’ve been placed here to critique it. They always seem to have a negative side to the most positive results. They will gladly tell you it’s just their nature–their way of helping to maintain quality control.

Some people chronicle the Earth by refusing to participate.They develop four or five ideas which they refuse to amend no matter how much evidence comes to disprove their assertions. They are proud of stubbornness.

There are those who chronicle the Earth by ignoring it and waiting for heaven. Their whole focus is in achieving an eternal life which has been heavily promoted but not seriously reviewed.

But for those souls who believe in simplification, the best way to chronicle the Earth is to stay silent until it is time to count one’s blessings. Obviously there will be some struggle in achieving good. There will be many errors in the process of getting there. And there will be moments when the Earth will seem like the hell we’re escaping to get to the heaven we desire.

Yet it is such a boring way to live–complaining about the status quo instead of announcing the coming show.

I shall chronicle the Earth, though I will only be here for less than a century.

I will make sure that century is peppered with good reports, bold experimentation and a faith that includes myself and others, with the presence of God.

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Chewing Gum

Chewing gum: (n) flavored gum for chewing

Early on in my life, I decided there were two types of people I did not want to become: argumentative and complaining. I find that anyone who pursues these two qualities always ends up turning off anyone they know and feeling very alone.

So I am not going to be argumentative, nor do I share this story with a complaining spirit.

One night I fell asleep with a huge wad of bubble gum stuck in my mouth and woke up the next morning with it lodged in my hair. (It was
 back when I had hair. Lots of it.)

The gum, for some reason or another, had managed to distribute itself all throughout my locks. When I went to a barber to ask what could be done, the suggestion was made that I shave my head and start from scratch.

I was twenty years old. This was unacceptable.

So a friend of mine decided to look up in the encyclopedia (since there was no Internet at the time) how to remove gum from hair.

There were three suggestions. Being barely out of our teens, we decided to try all of them.

The suggestions were to smear the gum with mayonnaise, peanut butter or motor oil. We divided my hair into thirds and sampled all of the solutions.

None of them worked.

Except… for some reason, the peanut butter and the mayonnaise clung to the gum, making, if possible, an even worse mess.

I did not know what to do.

Finally, another friend of mine attempted to surgically and carefully cut the gum out of my hair, leaving behind whatever part of my “do” remained.

After this process, my head looked like crab grass with dried-out places in between, apparently caused by drought.

It took six weeks–yes, six weeks–before my hair grew out and all the gum was completely dispelled from my scalp.

I still chew gum.

But never as a nocturnal practice.

 

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