The Choice of Choice...
Dec. 12th, 2008 12:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaHere's a funny thing. I've heard a lot about a Family of Choice. But, oddly enough, I don't feel like I had much of a choice in the matter. I mean, I'm not dissing them. These folks that have adopted me, with all my funny (Not ha-ha funny either) flaws are pretty darn incredible, and I'm lucky they accept me pretty much as I am. But I don't necessarily think it was a choice. Or, at least my choice.
I'm not, repeat not, complaining. I'm like that wounded bird that Falconer Bob picks up, or the wounded kitty that any of you would take in, or the rabbits that Capi's brother takes in or the neighbors dog that Capi shelters.
Somebody (Somebodies) out there saw something in me that was worthy. I don't have any idea of what it was. I know that, even with my healthy ego, I didn't see it. I still don't, but I've learned to not ask what it was. Nobody can exactly answer that without it sounding like I'm begging why folks like me and the other person looking at me like I'm begging why folks like me. And you know what? That's perfectly all right. To ask someone to enumerate why they like you is an incredible pressure. It can't be done. There are too many immaterial concepts involved.
I'm not the easiest to get along with. Heck, I wouldn't wish my long term co-existence on anyone but the strongest, and I would even wish them the very best of luck. I tend to be blunt and less than subtle. I've got a smart mouth and it's not always a kind one. I think far too much about my intelligence and far too little about my humanity. My feelings get hurt easily, and I can fall into a sulk. And when I'm frustrated (not angry... frustrated), I tend to bite those that love me most.
Still, even for all these flaws and warts, I was found worthy. What in the world could be more valuable than that. Me finding me worthy? Heck, I'm far worthy enough for me. But to be worthy to another human being? To have found not only acceptance, but glad acceptance? Not enough sheckles in the 'verse for that, my friend. Can't be bought. Can't be sold. Can only be earned. And I earned it, I guess, by a very simple rule.
Heinlein said it best. "Social Politeness is the oil that keeps the gears and cogs of Society running smoothly." Maybe it's a paraphrase, but Laz long said it, and so did the Hon. Jubal Hershaw. And it's true.
I will be kind to strangers, always. Even if I say something mean about them, I will always be kind to them. Does that make me a hypocrite? Yeah, probably. But out of the same mouth that says something mean about them, might also comes words of trying to understand their position in life (Or so I hope). I'm finding that, with exposure to this family of mine, I'm becoming less a hypocrite and more of a nicer me.
The mean guy is that Chester who stopped liking people because people will just leave you, or make fun of you, or lie to your face while they smile. He's kind of a small minded little bastard who lives in a place where he was poked with a stick and made fun of because of his... oddities in intellect or because he lacked social graces. He may never get over that poking with a stick, and he's still there, but he's much smaller and much less important to my survival than he used to be. The reason for that is that he's much less scared than he used to be. There's no need to be such a bastard to people any more, because the reason for that fear doesn't exist as strongly. He's still there, but now when he comes out, I feel... unclean.
I will be kind to friends and loved ones. The other Chester, who I'll call Pockets, is the one who lives at the core of me, below all the anger and rage, and is a wonderful person full of smiles and jokes and hugs and will drive in a blinding sleet storm just to make sure that someone he cares about is all right. He's not cynical and in fact he's a bit naive, still believing that people are basically good and that Santa Claus does exist in the hearts of humankind and that the Spirit of Christmas can be held in the heart all 365 and a quarter days of the year.
It's one of those really romantic sort of stories. The one where I look into your eyes and smile shyly and say quietly, "You make me want to be a better person." Because it's true. I am a better person, because of you. The ones who chose me.
Now, I feel that the word choice is kind of a misnomer. In honesty, I don't know if there was any choice involved. No more choice than the Moon orbiting the Earth. No more choice than the wave against the shore.
Yes, I could do things so horrible or so uncomfortable that I would find this Family move away from me. That, see, is where I think the choice is. <>Leaving Family But not in finding Family. I don't think there's much choice in that. Maybe. Unconsciously. Maybe we make some right turn or we pet the right cat or we sit in the right seat at the right time. Maybe it's something like that. Some sort of synchronicity that binds and weaves lives so that they MUST mingle and merge on the road of life.
And it's not just kindness that binds a family. Heck, you can be kind to a bum on the street and never see them again. I know. I've done it. It's understanding THEIR needs. It's the putting aside of YOUR self and seeing the other persons through eyes not yours, and seeing yourself through someone else's eyes.
It's not even just kindness and understanding that binds, either. It's respecting those needs and that understanding and that kindness. And trusting without judging. And a thousand other things mixed into the pudding that makes a family a family. Heck, I've known family without ever meeting them face to face. I've accepted family simply because the other members of my family says "Yeah, they're good people". And you have too, or else you aren't exactly a member of my family. Maybe a close relative, like a cousin or a nephew or something like that. It doesn't mean that I like all of this large and extended family. I don't have to. But I want to respect the fact that some of my family DOES like them, and because of that respect, those folks I may not like are still family.
Notice I said "Want to respect", not "Have to respect". I don't have to respect anyone, but man, I'd be one lonely S.O.B. if I didn't, huh? So, I want to respect, rather than have to respect.
But in my family, you TRUST your family. Even if they say you're being rude or lacking consideration or even social skill. They wouldn't say that unless they thought they had your TRUST, and that trust causes you to pause and turn the mirror to your face and cause you to go "Hmmmm.... maybe I have been an ass****" And yep, it's been done to me. And yep, I did hold that mirror up to my own face. Because I know in my heart of hearts that my family would correct me out of love and consideration and yes, kindness and respect.
It's possible that there are words said about me, NOT to my ears, that might be upsetting to me. Like I said, I'm kinda hard to take at times. And that's perfectly all right, too. Not that I'm not curious. Not that I don't care. But when folks talk about me to each other about some sort of behavior I exhibit that might be unsettling to some members of the family, I know, I TRUST, that they're talking about it to try to figure out the kindest, best, most gentle and understanding way of bringing it to my attention. They aren't sniping me. They're working FOR the betterment of me, so that I can work toward the betterment and cohesiveness of the family . And if I don't agree with them, then we agree to disagree and I'm understandably left out of things and events where I'm a disturbing influence.
Sounds like a cult, doesn't it? Yeah? Well, tough. If it's a cult, it's a cult of one. One and one and one and one and one and etc, ad naseum. The only membership requirement is that you leave your small ego and petty drama at the door or the curb or better yet, at home where it belongs. Or even better yet, give it up.
That's not to say there won't be drama. Life is full of it. If it's something that needs more heads than yours to figure it out, bring it up. If it's a legit thing, folks will help. That's what family does. If it's not a legit thing, folks will help there, too. Be careful, though. Understand that the cure might sting just a bit, either way. It's an ego thing.
If I wanna be included, I gotta understand and I gotta play by the Rules of the Social Encounter. I have to be Socially Responsible and Socially Polite. I have to leave my Solitary Reality somewhere else for the mean time and join in the Group Dynamic. Life is a game, and this is part of that Game. Otherwise, I can pick up my marbles and go shoot aggies by myself. It really, truly is that simple.
So, after all this ramble, this is what I want to say: This Family of Choice offers choice. The choice to leave it. To be a member of it, of this family, you don't have to make any choices at all. You just have to be more human and less your own petty ego and open yourself to the possibilities and realities of other folks. Yeah, okay. That might be a choice... I'd like to think it's just the nature of people and not a choice.
The way I figure it... I'm pretty damned lucky. I got family that will rise up and defend me against my worst enemy. Myself. And they Choose to do it.
I'm not, repeat not, complaining. I'm like that wounded bird that Falconer Bob picks up, or the wounded kitty that any of you would take in, or the rabbits that Capi's brother takes in or the neighbors dog that Capi shelters.
Somebody (Somebodies) out there saw something in me that was worthy. I don't have any idea of what it was. I know that, even with my healthy ego, I didn't see it. I still don't, but I've learned to not ask what it was. Nobody can exactly answer that without it sounding like I'm begging why folks like me and the other person looking at me like I'm begging why folks like me. And you know what? That's perfectly all right. To ask someone to enumerate why they like you is an incredible pressure. It can't be done. There are too many immaterial concepts involved.
I'm not the easiest to get along with. Heck, I wouldn't wish my long term co-existence on anyone but the strongest, and I would even wish them the very best of luck. I tend to be blunt and less than subtle. I've got a smart mouth and it's not always a kind one. I think far too much about my intelligence and far too little about my humanity. My feelings get hurt easily, and I can fall into a sulk. And when I'm frustrated (not angry... frustrated), I tend to bite those that love me most.
Still, even for all these flaws and warts, I was found worthy. What in the world could be more valuable than that. Me finding me worthy? Heck, I'm far worthy enough for me. But to be worthy to another human being? To have found not only acceptance, but glad acceptance? Not enough sheckles in the 'verse for that, my friend. Can't be bought. Can't be sold. Can only be earned. And I earned it, I guess, by a very simple rule.
Heinlein said it best. "Social Politeness is the oil that keeps the gears and cogs of Society running smoothly." Maybe it's a paraphrase, but Laz long said it, and so did the Hon. Jubal Hershaw. And it's true.
I will be kind to strangers, always. Even if I say something mean about them, I will always be kind to them. Does that make me a hypocrite? Yeah, probably. But out of the same mouth that says something mean about them, might also comes words of trying to understand their position in life (Or so I hope). I'm finding that, with exposure to this family of mine, I'm becoming less a hypocrite and more of a nicer me.
The mean guy is that Chester who stopped liking people because people will just leave you, or make fun of you, or lie to your face while they smile. He's kind of a small minded little bastard who lives in a place where he was poked with a stick and made fun of because of his... oddities in intellect or because he lacked social graces. He may never get over that poking with a stick, and he's still there, but he's much smaller and much less important to my survival than he used to be. The reason for that is that he's much less scared than he used to be. There's no need to be such a bastard to people any more, because the reason for that fear doesn't exist as strongly. He's still there, but now when he comes out, I feel... unclean.
I will be kind to friends and loved ones. The other Chester, who I'll call Pockets, is the one who lives at the core of me, below all the anger and rage, and is a wonderful person full of smiles and jokes and hugs and will drive in a blinding sleet storm just to make sure that someone he cares about is all right. He's not cynical and in fact he's a bit naive, still believing that people are basically good and that Santa Claus does exist in the hearts of humankind and that the Spirit of Christmas can be held in the heart all 365 and a quarter days of the year.
It's one of those really romantic sort of stories. The one where I look into your eyes and smile shyly and say quietly, "You make me want to be a better person." Because it's true. I am a better person, because of you. The ones who chose me.
Now, I feel that the word choice is kind of a misnomer. In honesty, I don't know if there was any choice involved. No more choice than the Moon orbiting the Earth. No more choice than the wave against the shore.
Yes, I could do things so horrible or so uncomfortable that I would find this Family move away from me. That, see, is where I think the choice is. <>Leaving Family But not in finding Family. I don't think there's much choice in that. Maybe. Unconsciously. Maybe we make some right turn or we pet the right cat or we sit in the right seat at the right time. Maybe it's something like that. Some sort of synchronicity that binds and weaves lives so that they MUST mingle and merge on the road of life.
And it's not just kindness that binds a family. Heck, you can be kind to a bum on the street and never see them again. I know. I've done it. It's understanding THEIR needs. It's the putting aside of YOUR self and seeing the other persons through eyes not yours, and seeing yourself through someone else's eyes.
It's not even just kindness and understanding that binds, either. It's respecting those needs and that understanding and that kindness. And trusting without judging. And a thousand other things mixed into the pudding that makes a family a family. Heck, I've known family without ever meeting them face to face. I've accepted family simply because the other members of my family says "Yeah, they're good people". And you have too, or else you aren't exactly a member of my family. Maybe a close relative, like a cousin or a nephew or something like that. It doesn't mean that I like all of this large and extended family. I don't have to. But I want to respect the fact that some of my family DOES like them, and because of that respect, those folks I may not like are still family.
Notice I said "Want to respect", not "Have to respect". I don't have to respect anyone, but man, I'd be one lonely S.O.B. if I didn't, huh? So, I want to respect, rather than have to respect.
But in my family, you TRUST your family. Even if they say you're being rude or lacking consideration or even social skill. They wouldn't say that unless they thought they had your TRUST, and that trust causes you to pause and turn the mirror to your face and cause you to go "Hmmmm.... maybe I have been an ass****" And yep, it's been done to me. And yep, I did hold that mirror up to my own face. Because I know in my heart of hearts that my family would correct me out of love and consideration and yes, kindness and respect.
It's possible that there are words said about me, NOT to my ears, that might be upsetting to me. Like I said, I'm kinda hard to take at times. And that's perfectly all right, too. Not that I'm not curious. Not that I don't care. But when folks talk about me to each other about some sort of behavior I exhibit that might be unsettling to some members of the family, I know, I TRUST, that they're talking about it to try to figure out the kindest, best, most gentle and understanding way of bringing it to my attention. They aren't sniping me. They're working FOR the betterment of me, so that I can work toward the betterment and cohesiveness of the family . And if I don't agree with them, then we agree to disagree and I'm understandably left out of things and events where I'm a disturbing influence.
Sounds like a cult, doesn't it? Yeah? Well, tough. If it's a cult, it's a cult of one. One and one and one and one and one and etc, ad naseum. The only membership requirement is that you leave your small ego and petty drama at the door or the curb or better yet, at home where it belongs. Or even better yet, give it up.
That's not to say there won't be drama. Life is full of it. If it's something that needs more heads than yours to figure it out, bring it up. If it's a legit thing, folks will help. That's what family does. If it's not a legit thing, folks will help there, too. Be careful, though. Understand that the cure might sting just a bit, either way. It's an ego thing.
If I wanna be included, I gotta understand and I gotta play by the Rules of the Social Encounter. I have to be Socially Responsible and Socially Polite. I have to leave my Solitary Reality somewhere else for the mean time and join in the Group Dynamic. Life is a game, and this is part of that Game. Otherwise, I can pick up my marbles and go shoot aggies by myself. It really, truly is that simple.
So, after all this ramble, this is what I want to say: This Family of Choice offers choice. The choice to leave it. To be a member of it, of this family, you don't have to make any choices at all. You just have to be more human and less your own petty ego and open yourself to the possibilities and realities of other folks. Yeah, okay. That might be a choice... I'd like to think it's just the nature of people and not a choice.
The way I figure it... I'm pretty damned lucky. I got family that will rise up and defend me against my worst enemy. Myself. And they Choose to do it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-12 08:08 am (UTC)It is *so* hard to criticize those we love that often, we'll go to almost any length to avoid it. But offering gentle correction, with love and respect is offering a real gift. Whether the person decides to accept that gift is up to them.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-12 04:28 pm (UTC)