Resigned Words of the Mundane

It doesn't matter what I write in this space.

The words will alter nothing in the rotation of the earth's orbit, or the policies of the United States government. Neither will they be used to cure cancer or be turned into the lyrics of the next chart-topping country single.

No, these words are simply an expression of the person at the keyboard. A person that has interests, education, and talents in all the things that people don't want to hear. The words typed hear fall not on blind eyes, but eyes that have been conditioned to look differently at the world around them. Having an alternate view on life is not welcome for most. Being different from people means you are a "them" and not an "us."

I'm a "them," and the words written here are merely tolerated. The Internet enables us all to write, to put words into publication through cyberspace, and to be judged from the comfort of anonymity. I sit judged by you, the reader.

These words may not be the next best-selling novel, nor a symphonic masterpiece, but never-the-less they are to be written. They are written by a man on the margins, with little impact or perceived value in the grand scheme of things. What other option do I have other than to disappear completely from the public forum. Already, there is enough distance created that the way of the world has become an enigma; perhaps it is I who is the enigma to the world.

No one is at fault with the situation. The finger is to be pointed at no one. In a society all to eager to place blame and execute swift judgement on the accused we identify scapegoats for our problems without taking any responsibility in the matter. The problem is with "them."

I'm a "them" in that I choose recognize my part of the problem, even if I have yet to discern a solution. Responsibility for not only my own actions, but the actions of fellow humans, are necessary in understanding a way forward. The problems that plague humanity are a result of all of us. There is no denying our own judgment upon the prophets of change which were summarily dismissed by our forefathers, our congresses, or public opinion. We are all culpable.

The words of one finite man, written to a limited audience with debatable eloquence cannot change the course of our history, can it? The thoughts expressed, the situations elaborated upon, the morals professed, or even the convictions maintained are simply those held by the author: no more, no less.

While some clamor for an audience, for fame or increased sphere of influence, their are vain pursuits. Some will like the comments and others abhor them. Disagreement and agreement are natural reactions, all within the spread of reaction to thoughts. No two people think the same; what is it then if there is another voice, no matter how insignificant, that presents their thoughts. After all, it is easy to ignore if their views are disagreeable or sparks apathy in the reader.

To each their own.

Their own ideas. Their own beliefs. Their own versions of reality.

Is it possible to lose all relevancy and yet be correct?

Or perhaps to be unheard or unheeded and yet have even an iota of wisdom?

These words long for hope in the midst of the isolation of the reality of our current predicament. These words long for a loss of "them" to an embrace only of "us." Any excellence done at the expense of another is not truly excellence. An gain which requires a loss by another is a zero sum game.

I'm a "them" that merely desires to know all the other "thems" out there and work together towards a brighter tomorrow. A tomorrow not rooted in self-interest, even if cloaked in patriotism, but rather simply in simple flourishing. Until those willing to think not of themselves, not concerned primarily with their self-preservation, then these words fall on ears that do not hear. And these words want to be heard simply because they long to break down the divisions until there is only "us."