Category Archives: Deep Thoughts

A Crisis of Childishness.

arts education, commentary, Deep Thoughts, Fundamentalism, human behavior, political commentary, psychology, public education, social behavior, social commentary, sociology, truth, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

 

Kindergarten.

The term itself is Germanic in derivation and, I believe, the concept as well.

Children, able to be separated from their parents for a single school day, brought together in groups according to their chronological age to be led by a competent adult, because socialization is considered vital to the success of an earthly civilization.

I remember what we did in Kindergarten. The year was 1962. Mrs. Williams’ room was the largest one at Lincoln School, with the bay window where the painting easels stood.  We each had a spot on the rug, sat cross legged, and faced her laced up shoes as she stood in front of us. We always opened each morning with a song, then the day of the week and the weather. We always made pictures, had a nap, played games and ate a snack.

But, beyond all this, a sentient sage compiled all the things that made it truly important and put them onto a lovely poster: “Everything I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten”. Herewith, a couple I’d like to add to that list:

a.) Keep your hands to yourself.

Goodness. Need we say more?

b.) Be kind.

How about:

c.) Tell the truth.

Are there any questions?

Does everybody understand?

Over the past couple of decades, I have watched the nation I call my own collapsing into a puddle of human depravity. This has made itself manifest in the form of fundamental behaviors we used to tell children were unacceptable.

Grown ups, touching each other inappropriately, but with sophisticated persuasive tactics that would make a chemist blush. And, then, going to equally intricate lengths to scrub out the crayon mark tracks they leave behind.

Alleged adults, grasping after power over one another’s things, taking what doesn’t belong to them with such drooling greed that even the 5 year olds would stop, stare, and wag an admonishing finger.

Moreover, the leader of our country, who is supposed to be the model for doing what is right, paying money to keep quiet those who would tell on his bad behavior to the people and then saying to everyone that, even though a girl said a man didn’t keep his hands to himself, we should let him into the little club where they make all the rules for good behavior for the whole country.

In fact, just today, all the leaders of the other countries laughed at him.

I don’t know about you, but I am embarrassed.

I’m mortified.

I suspect the Chancellor of Germany is appalled.

Our country is remedial. We need a retake, and a redo. We could do well to start over. Before we know it, the bell will ring, and school will be out.

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© 9/25/18   Ruth Ann Scanzillo. All rights those of the author, whose name appears above this line. Thank you.

littlebarefeetblog.com

 

 

The Impression.

contemplation, Deep Thoughts, healing, performance, Uncategorized, , , , , ,

 

“That’s impressive.”

Sigh.

Have we not tired of being impressed?

Yet, in tandem with the dissolution of standard bearing, implicit honesty, and conscience, now we are subject to presentations intended to do just that.

Fast. Agile. Loud. Complex. Obscure. The “wow” factor.

But, impressions, even those privately gleaned through earnest searching, are at best shallow and short lived. Why? Because the motives behind the actions of their source are fed by ego.

One voluntarily seeks to impress in order to obtain something. Perhaps merely praise. In other cases, promotion, or a kind of awe which generates momentary respect.

Whenever ego is the driver, what is brought forth actually creates distance. Watchers and listeners are put off, pushed away, intimidated. Such impressions serve only to separate, even segregate, people from one another.

Used to be those who were “trying to impress” were looked down upon as conceited. All this serves to support the theory: impression is without soul.

That which is of inspiring value is self-sustaining. Beyond merely making its mark upon us, it bores through the superficial layers until, reaching who we are, it leaves a lasting change in us. And, the source of such a profound experience is then sought after. We are drawn to the one who provides accessible value to us, rather than being left to gaze from afar.

Don’t impress me. Just move me. Provoke and unsettle me, heat me up. Make me think, expand my perceptions, broaden my vision, open my heart. Make me feel, touch my emotions, stir me, feed me instead of yourself. Make a valued connection, with me.

If that is not your purpose, pack up your show. Move on down the road.

I will be happily unimpressed.

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© 9/8/18  Ruth Ann Scanzillo    All rights those of the author, whose name appears above this line. Please respect original material. Don’t be impressed. Thanks!

littlebarefeetblog.com

 

 

 

 

There You Are.

contemplative essays, Deep Thoughts, drama, grief, health and wellness, human behavior, love, memorials, psychology, relationships, social behavior, social commentary, sociology, tributes, truth, Uncategorized, , , , , , , , , ,

 

Once you enter into the life of an addict, you are there. Not only are you there, but you might often find that you are no longer here.

Here is where only you are. But, you are no longer. A barnacle, superglued to the other, not sucking life but giving, your purpose becomes it.

Every time you try to extract, the primordial ooze of regret suffocates you like a stagnant oil spill. You are sure that, without your presence, the addict’s return to dissolution will be far worse than the time before, perhaps tragically. So, you return, just to make the sludge drop off before you shower.

And, then you go to Al Anon. Al Anon is where everybody goes who can’t leave. And, they sit around, and follow all the rules of the meeting, and bite their lips during the droners and chew their tongues when somebody cries out for an answer. And, when it is finally your turn, you know full well that everybody else is either biting it or chewing it but you adopt the mantle of denial just long enough to say your piece so that your face doesn’t come off your head and melt under the lights.

Being at Al Anon serves one purpose. It helps you accept that, from within your particular demographic, there are between nine and twenty two other hapless partners and spouses whose lives are as inextricably caught as yours is.

There are two ways people exit these meetings. They either bolt out as quickly as they arrived, or linger interminably, usually gathered around the latest newcomer. When you are the newcomer, you experience a few minutes of comfort realizing that the rules of the meeting can be bent just long enough for some actual human contact.

Thirty eight minutes later, legs crossed in a standing position, you still haven’t shaken off the last, most desperate proselytizer, the one whose week was by far the most traumatic. That one really needs you. Without you, at least in symbol, the meeting will have been meaningless.

When you finally get into your car, momentary relief that you can finally go floods your being. And, this going is of the highest value. By leaving the meeting, you have performed the only true act of departure you’ve made all week.

And, you drive away.

At this point, you have two choices.

You can keep driving. Or, you can return to the arms of the addict, who waits anxiously for you.

And, everybody knows where you will go.

You go back. You go there, because that is where you are. Even when you leave, you are still there.

There you are.

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© 4/4/18  Ruth Ann Scanzillo     All rights those of the author, whose story it is, and whose name appears above this line. Thank you.

littlebarefeetblog.com