Hello again all,
There is typically just a small group of people who receive my blogs, and even a smaller group who actually read them. So if you are reading this, bravo for you. :D
There is a long standing joke, or joking around, that I will pick up any change off the ground. pennies, nickles, dimes, anything. A few of my friends have cashed in on the joke as all good friends do. I have one friend who actually bought a roll or two of pennies and would randomly throw them on the ground just to see me pick them up. My friends would laugh and get a good chuckle. It got a bit tiring and they thought it was a good chain yanker, but it doesn't much bother me what they think or why they do it. I know that they are my friends and they are having a good time at my expense, but I am still going to pick up pennies.
I wish I could say I have some super spiritual reason for picking up pennies. There is a story about a man who picks up pennies because of the phase "In God We Trust". While that is in itself a worthy and noble enough reason to pick up a penny, it isn't my reason.
I wish I could say that I am picking them up to save for a cause, for a cure, for something noble, but I am not. Each time I pick up a penny I say, "Blessed by the Lord."
I wish I could say that I am picking them up to use for some other purpose like making a table of pennies, or using them to decorate, plant in a garden to keep away slugs, line up 16 pennies to measure an exact foot, or just drilling holes in them to make washers (which is cheaper than buying a washer in the store). But no none of these are the reason I pick up pennies.
The real reason that I pick up pennies goes back many years ago. You see, before certain times in my life, I too would not go terribly out of my way to pick up change. There is an OCD side of me that says that having money on the ground is not right and needs to be fixed, but I could forgo some of that urge.
I could point to many times, even going back to my childhood where money was tight. My brother and I would use straws and wadded up napkins to reach for and pull money from under vending machines that other people couldn't or didn't want to reach. I also remember racing through the O'Hare airport back in the day when there were lines and lines of pay telephones. We would go to the airport on 'vacation' to watch the airplanes take off and land from the observation deck. We never got to ride in one, so the next best thing was to watch them take off an land. But I digress, we would frantically run from pay phone to pay phone looking for any change that anyone might have left in the phone. We realized that sometimes coins just got stuck and all you had to do was either press the coin return lever, or bang on the phone a bit to get the coins to drop. I remember a time when we walked out of there back in the 70's with over $2 each.
But the one time that was a turning moment in my life was a time when I found myself homeless, living in my car, without any money except for 31 cents that I managed to find under the seat. My car was nearly on empty and it was a cold fall. I needed my car to get around and for shelter. I had to choose between 31 cents in gas or maybe buying something to eat. This was one of the lowest, most humbling times in my life.
I decided that having gas, even 31 cents worth, in my car was more important than eating. After a while I got very hungry, to the point that I had rationalized stealing food from the store to survive. I even amazed myself what I would do when I was that hungry. I am not proud of this and nor do I condone it. In fact, I am embarrassed and ashamed of myself for this. But at the time, I thought I had no other choices. I would steal canned fish, anything that was open in the fruit or vegetable section, and one time even hot dogs. Over time I found other food outlets that didn't involve stealing.
But I vividly remember coasting into the gas station, as I turned off my car and coasted as far as I could and even pushed when I needed to, just to save gas. When I got to the pump I thought how awkward this is going to be to put exactly 31 cents of gas in my car. And if I do go over, Lord I hope that there is a "Need a Penny" inside. As I got out of my car I saw another penny on the ground. I looked around and saw that someone had actually emptied their entire ashtray, full of cigarette butts and change, all over the ground. I sifted through the mess and managed to pick up another 53 cents. This got me thinking....I wonder if there is any money at the other pumps? I walked to every pump in the station and sure enough, I found more money. I moved garbage cans, looked inside of them. I found enough pennies and spare changed to buy over a gallon of gas. I left my car at the gas station and walked a few blocks down to the other gas station. There too I found a few more pennies.
I pumped my gas and went into pay. It was then I realized that I am about to dump a lot of coins that were on the ground, in ash trays, onto the counter. I went into the bathroom and washed the change as best I could and dried it off. I then came to the side of the gas station counter and neatly stacked the change so that it could be counted accurately by the attendant. When it was my turn, the attendant didn't even count the change. He grabbed it all and said, "Looks close enough, I trust you." I don't know if it was that he was lazy and simply didn't want to count the money, or that he was sympathetic and knew it would be close enough. Either way, I had the exact amount, $2.21.
This went on for several weeks until some other things changed in my life. It took over a year and a very good friend, whom I miss dearly, and some of the friends that kid around with me about pennies before I was able to even have my own place.
I really wish I could share some really cool reason that I pick up pennies, but there isn't one. It is all about survival, and remembering a time when each penny was valuable. It was about a time when I said, "Lord, give me today food.", and then returning and truly meaning, "Lord, thank you for this food today." I know some people will pray and out of automatic conditioning, "OH LORD GOD!. Thank you for this food which is before us today....". Not me! Every time I pray, "thank you for this food", I remember that every penny counted, and still counts today.
Friday, September 22, 2017
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Three little deadly words
Hello all,
As I reflect on my career, technology, relationships and life in general, there seems to be a thread of diametrically opposed philosophies that play in my mind. The struggle is real every day and it all starts with those three deadly words, "I Love you"
Life is hard. And things happen in life, just as it has been for generations before us. I do believe in God, the God of Abraham, Issac and Jacob, and his son, Jesus Christ. I believe the Bible is the inspired word of God, useful in everyday life. And even with this, I still struggle.
With my career position and where i am at in life, it is hard for me to admit this; I struggle with PTSD and OCD, which manifests in anxiety, insecurity and depression. Some days are good and some are bad. Some days no matter what is wrong, it doesn't get me down. Some days no matter what is right, it seems like the end of the world. Some days I need a reminder to just keep breathing.
One part of this that has significantly impacted me is relationships. Throughout my life, relationships were based on what each person could provide to the other. Performance based relationships. If you couldn't provide enough in the relationship, you were not valued and tossed. If you provided too much in the relationship, you were taken advantage up and became the relationship sugardaddy/sugarmommy. It was either suck the life out of the other person or have the life sucked out of you. Achieving balance is like dancing on the head of a needle.
I can not think of a time that I didn't simple assume that everyone I knew was going to betray me or leave me. It is something that I have inside that I cant explain or control. It is difficult to deal with and I know how crazy this is. In the end, I push my friends away before they get a chance to leave. It is hard. I find that I am oversensitive and hyper-vigilant, sometimes making up scenarios in my head or coming to irrational conclusions of what was just said or talked about, just to push them away before I get hurt.
When I hear "I Love you" it simply tears me apart. When my wife says, "I love you", I think "Great! What does she want now? Time to put in another mainline to suck the life out of me to near death again. When I hear my friend say, "I love you man", I hear a request to have some sort of need met in a tit for tat exchange. When I hear "God loves me", I think "SHIT, I am REALLY going to disappoint Him" I can't even sing songs about the Father's love in church. I know in my head that this isn't the love that God has for us, but it is the at odds with the definition love I know and have learned to accept.
In my mind, "I Love you" makes me cringe with despair. It comes with all kinds of strings attached. I did this for you because "I Love you". I am giving you this gift because "I Love you". This is something that we can do together because "I love you" I think of these things as debts that need to be repaid. And the more "I Love you"'s I hear, the more in debt I am.
Tragically, in all of this, I realize that I have sabotaged nearly all my relationships in order to maintain some self preservation.
For those in my past, I am sorry to have put you through this.
For my long time and current friends, I again am sorry. There are no other words I have.
I came to the end of writing this and thought now what? Am I writing this to justify or rationalize my behavior? no. I think I am wondering if anyone else is like this and is struggling too.
If you are, how is that working for you?
For me, I'd like to never ever again hear 'I love you'. And if you need to say something to me that expresses it, how about saying something like "How about dem der Packers, eh?"
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