Darth Grampus Cares

A conversation I had today reminded me of an adage: people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care. Though I can read through my posts, my subjective view isn't solid-enough proof that I've tried to articulate how much I care over so much of what I think I know. So, and in effort to create that proof, I thought I'd write about the reasons I care. Perhaps knowing that is worth much more than knowing how much I (think I) know.

My first grand baby came into the world almost a year ago. Such an easy one, right? Of COURSE I care about my grand baby, all his future cousins, and my kids! But intricately woven into the sincerity of my caring for them is care for all of you and yours, too. 

Why?

Darth Grampus Cares Because...

Because your good is potentially their good. If more good comes to more of you, the impact will undoubtedly affect those I love most. I can't claim to have all this hope, or that I care so much for their futures if I don't have that same care for yours. I don't want my sons to become tyrants, or energy vampires, or thieves. I don't want them to exploit others, or to play unfairly. I hope their moral compasses are set firmly on virtue, and that they resist all temptations to deviate from that moral compass. I don't want their good at the cost of yours. 

And so, if I want my kids and their kids to have a better future, that seems like a much greater possibility if your kids and their kids are living happier, healthier and more fulfilling lives of purpose and gratitude. That's the better future I envision; a break in this madness that puts a premium on truly living and the sharing of that experience. Where human beings aren't cogs in a machine built to imprison them, then made wardens of those prisons.

That, and life is truly precious to me. Not in a clingy way, but in the miraculousness of the experience. I know each of you have complex minds that are always thinking about something. I know each moment you're actively or passively noting an experience. I know these moments are few. Many of us fear death, in part, because we don't want this experience to end.

I truly want your life to be wonderful. I'm not claiming to have THE pathway to that. I believe there are far many more pathways to "that" than I could list, but I do encourage you to "smell the roses," to reengage with wonder, to consider your relationships, your responsibility, interesting and weird things that could happen in the future, how we're all at fault. 

This is how things look to me. I care enough to risk ridicule, continual proof of failure in pitiful readership (my fault... I'm working on it), all to dare voice unpopular opinions or uncomfortable insights into our existence. I spend my days trying to think of ways to communicate my concerns in ways that are familiar to lived experience, if possible. If not, then in some way that causes you to compare what you think to what's presented. I don't claim to be right, I just want to contribute in ways I think are meaningful to the developing consciousness.  

My criticisms don't make me any better or smarter or insightful than anyone else. I'm not somehow above any of you, and my criticisms are aimed as much at me (perhaps even more) than they are at anyone else. I'm not blaming anyone, and my intention isn't to make you feel bad. I provide my assessment and analysis from nearly 50 years on earth across three continents with extended exposure to many different cultures. Add to that too many mistakes to even begin trying to list them, and perhaps there is some value to be found in the perspectives I share.

Keeping On Keeping On

It's difficult to grow a reader base when you're telling people exactly what they want to read. How much more difficult when what you think of as medicine is considered too bitter to consume?

I persist because I must. Otherwise the good I claim to want for you, your children, their children and all of mine is just words. It's empty. Impotent. Flaccid. A waste of words and time. Writing seems to be the one thing I can do to legitimize the claim. And the hope that even one thing may provide real value to one person is sufficient fuel for the climb. 

I thank God more for my struggles than my triumphs. That isn't a request for more struggle, Lord, just acknowledging that each and every moment of this existence is an incredible blessing. The fruit born of struggle seems sweeter. 

But maybe we can change our struggle. Maybe we could reevaluate what we want most and why. Maybe we could take just 15 seconds in the morning to say "thank you," and allow ourselves to feel the joy all over the miracle of our existence. We woke up. We have air in our lungs. We're protected from the elements, have serviceable clothes, have our health, AND the ability to realize all this, evaluate it, feel wonder, and express gratitude. We all have that choice.

Maybe part of my purpose is to be a reminder of that. I can't say for sure, but that sounds like an awesome way to spend a life. 

If you've read this far, thank you. Since you have, please let me know what you think in a comment below. Do my motivations count at all in your decision to read or not read what I write? Is the future I envision worth pursuing? Idealistic? Naive? What else could we do to put us on a track for a better future?

Thank you very much for your time. I hope you got value equal to the time investment.