A Godless Communist
There's
something about home cooked meals, hours of sleep, and conversations
with loved ones that resets an inner compass. This essay is no more
political than a love note. Granted, love can be a controversial
subject at times.
After
a battery of debates with my father regarding different 'hot button'
issues, the most recent of which was my stance against civilians
owning military grade fifty caliber sniper rifles able to tear a hole
through the side of armored vehicles. I was described in jest to my
mother as a Godless Communist. Now obviously, there's some truth to
his statement, despite the love backing this portrayal. Despite the
brevity of my escape to the motherland of red mud, cowboy hats, and
barbeque joints, I was able to pull to the surface some much needed
strands of insight from their dormant abyss. Ben warned me about his
trip back to Oklahoma. He said that it was the best conversations he
had ever had with the parental units. In fact, it persuaded him to
stop running – at least for now. It always seems that reflecting on
my values, and seeing my roots, tends to make problems shrink.
My
father and I went back and forth every chance my mother wasn't there
to intervene. Father - son bonding time I reckon. Whether we were
discussing homosexual rights in regards to the Boy Scouts of America,
gun control, socialized medicine, homicide rates in the 'developed
world', the importance of a standing army, abortion, or taxes, two
themes continued to circle like vultures as we realized we were
arguing in a similar direction, with different solutions. People
should have incentive and accountability. Why is food service in New
Zealand often abysmal? Because they don't treat front of house staff
as well respected members of society. Commission and percentages
speak a hell of a lot louder than wages. Why do you have to be
extremely cautious when picking your favorite saltena vendor in
Bolivia? Because you're not getting a dime out of anyone in court for
losing three weeks of your life to the oral and anal flood that will
ensue if you choose poorly. People must have accountability for their
actions, and they need incentives to perform immaculately.
Of
course it seems like I'm derailing this blog, but I can assure you
there is a legitimate point I'm trying to build. Through the midnight
hours of discussing possible solutions to the myriad of issues that
are continuously thrown into simple yes/no bins of patriotic
conservatism, or flaming liberal propaganda I began to realize this
isn't so different from the issues I'm facing in my life. I don't
honestly give a shit if someone wants to call themselves a member of
the Tea Party, or a libertarian, or a progressive. It doesn't really
mean much to me. Secondly, I don't think it really means much to
the progression of solutions for our society. It's easy to get worked
up about things that seem awful in our lives. It's easy to join the
ranks of some new hope, fighting the villainy of past transgressions.
It's easy to do nothing in your life while you scream bloody murder
on Facebook. It's a lot harder to sit down and think about realistic
options available in the wake of grief or chaos.
I've
been trying to dig into my own issues with this affinity for
accountability and incentive. There has to be a way to pull myself
back on course. Back to the love I know is within me, and the
strength to be a good steward, while maintaining an optimistic and
realistic view of the future. Of course there is, and I believe,
finally, I'm headed back to the right path. What is a Godless
Communist after all? An indirect compliment? I think it's probably a
way of describing my love for life on earth, and passion for strength
in our families and communities. Obviously, it's a bit of a false
moniker, as I would describe myself as more of an agnostic who finds
serenity in the sacred tabernacles of nature, and a capitalist with
heavy socialist leanings as far as community outreach and general
standards of living are concerned, but I think he was on the right
track. It has become clear to me that disappointment is directly
related to expectations and goals. Bethany and my quality of life are
products of our accountability to one another and the incentives to
reach our expectations. Our incentive is a product of the
expectations of our goals, which are completely up to us to decide.
Furthermore, the accountability to remain dedicated to achieving our
goals is also completely up to us. So perhaps redefining my goals is
in order. I know I've convoluted a relatively simple argument for
apparently no reason. But I suppose it's therapeutic for me to work
out all of the little twists the rabbit takes in my mind. The
elevator pitch of this entire essay is straightforward.
Bethany,
I started to find myself lost without the clear goals we had spent so
much time establishing, and subsequently eased my grip on my own
accountability towards such goals, which threw me into quite a
spiral. But I see once again, so many of those goals we once set are
truly subsidiary. The only priority I absolutely have to work on
right now is getting the two of us through this mess as smoothly as
possible. Everything else can wait. And, in due time, bit by bit,
we'll start building our empire once again. After all, as a Godless
Communist, I'm only here to survive, there are no pearly gates for
me. So I'd better make the best of it then, and I need you for that.
So what do you say babe? How bout we get back to basics, and start
focusing on just you and me? I'll see you in the morning.
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