#whoarewe

All things in life are a byproduct of what we perceive them to be.  The dog we see walking down the street to one could be the most terrifying thing ever, but to someone else could fill their heart with joy for the rest of the week.  Why is it that one small event an inkling of difference in someone’s mind can have such a lasting effect on an entire life?  What if people didn’t care about the small things, they just made a decision that everything can be whatever and it is our duty as people to love everything for all that it has.  No more being picky, we get exactly what we have and if we don’t like it we have to grow up.  Or is that exactly it? In order to grow up we have to change, so really those around us that are changing faster than us are just learning more, are more curious about the goings on in the world and can ultimately make more decisions for themselves.  

I always wonder how we can be so picky in lives.  I always wonder how exactly someone can get rid of something good entirely just because they are choosing not to like it.  Although I suppose we have been taught to have the best for ourselves? But if that is the case why is it that we throw away an old set of clothes away much more often than we throw away an old friend? Is it not the same deep rooted change that is needed in our lives?  Are those people that we are forcing to stay in our lives really giving us any better lives than those old jeans riddled with holes?  Or perhaps it is a simple question of objectification.  If we can objectify an object it holds no real true meaning to hold on to it.  We use it and get rid of it.  I would say not, if you look deeper every thing you throw away has some sort of memories with you, whether it has been in your life for your whole life or only a day, there are deep seeded connotations to everything.  So why are people so much more important? We debate ably deal with the object more, have more memories with those objects, and yet there are no second thoughts, but when someone toxic comes around it is still impossible to throw them away.

Even if you are slowly poisoning yourself with the company of another often we don’t realize it until we are too late, until we have made ourselves ill.  Perhaps not physically so, but mentally so indeed.  Will we ever change this way of thinking? I doubt it, but perhaps next time you think of throwing food away, or retiring a pair of shoes think about what people may be less important than that object, because after all we all deserve the best and the best things take many pieces, some might not fit the first time, but every piece can be part of the puzzle somewhere, perhaps it just isn’t yours.

A young kid and his dad talk about growing up black in the South. | #WhoWeAre

A woman before him orders a thin coffee. Then him — the usual.

I make his first. Naturally, his first. Bring it to him, while she is still waiting.

He tastes it, looks up: “Is this mine? It tastes … different.”

My face grows hot. I’ve switched the coffees.

“Sorry, I’ll make a new one right away.”

He smiles: “It’s fine.”

But I know: my mistake has given me away. I don’t treat him like a guest — and now he might sense it.

Who are we, when I forget my role in front of him?