Maybe It’s My Age?
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I’m glad I grew up in the world as it was not as it is today.
I can’t imagine how confused young people must be right now.
My upbringing wasn’t perfect by no means but I understood right from wrong and good from bad.
Now it appears there are no lines, few guidelines and a sort-of-anything goes mentality.
I’m worn out by it all.
I’m tired, torn and close to throwing my hands into the air.
It’s easy to blame social media, the current administration, politics and the aftermath of the pandemic.
I think they all share in the blame.
But the bottomline is….it’s us.
We are intolerant, arrogant and hard of hearing.
As someone who is diagnosed with moderate to severe hearing loss I understand what that means.
There are tones and sounds my ears, even with digital assistance, can’t pick up.
Someone says a word with a certain sound and it goes right past me.
Our world conversation is a lot like that.
We hear what we want to hear or what sounds familiar to us, everything else is a conspiracy or something designed to shut us down.
Rather than strain or ask questions we assume and you know what that brings?
We seek for the truth but how the Hell do you find the truth in a world where lies are so intertwined one can’t distinguish between good, evil or anything in between.
I used to believe sharing both sides of a story or issue would result in people making the right choice.
I used to believe that.
We are a culture that hears only the sounds from its own camp bullhorn and nothing else.
I read in a devotional this morning to run with patience the race you have been given.
I find myself asking God for a pitstop.
Perhaps it’s time for a new race.
One that has no rats.
Honestly I don’t know if such a race exists these days.
Maybe I’m like my parents, my grandparents or those old people I didn’t want to become.
Perhaps it’s just the way it is, natural.
God I hope not.
I would like to leave this blog on a positive note but remember I’m tone deaf to certain sounds and right now the only thing I hear is a high pitch scream and the echo that follows.
The cultural vacuum known as the echo chamber.
I scream and the only noise coming back is the sound of my own voice.