Was this behavior taught to me by my father or by some other role model with whom I was impressed or was this me being a jerk?
I would suspect that me being a jerk is the correct answer here because it puts the blame where it belongs.
Growing up as a middle child between an older sister and a younger brother, I became the ritualistic clown of the family, entertaining all who would listen to my wild, outlandish, unbelievable stories (always conveyed in a serious truthfulness) about all sorts of crazy topics like the all too familiar story as to how marbles were made, which dramatically changed with each telling depending upon how I was feeling at the time and what might be fresh on my mind.
A few years later, I told them same stories along with fresh variations to my sister's children who were just as easily fooled as she was; and, a few years after that when her children had children, she wanted me to tell them (especially the one about marbles) to her grandchildren; but, I could not and did not as I no longer had the need to be clown-like attention getter.
My sister acted as if she was devastated with hurt feelings that would never be repaired and suggested rather strongly that I had refused intentionally to get back at her for something that she might have done to me... however, I assured her that was not the case and that I just did not want to tell the story.
I guess one could say that I experienced an epiphany while others might say that this was just a milestone or a turning point in my life... because I started to become more aware of what I said and did, and how what I said and did might relate to others resulting in hurt feelings. Thank you sis...
How does one measure hurt feelings?
We all know how “we feel” when our feelings are hurt but our hurt feeling might not even come close to the hurt feelings of others... and, do these hurt feelings change in the way they are felt or expressed as we mature and age? But, more importantly, do we even concern ourselves with the hurt feelings of others... especially, when we did not mean it the way it was taken... therefore, it is more their problem than it is our problem; or, is that just a way to rationalize our comments and our subsequent actions once their hurt feelings have been revealed?
Interesting questions are they not?
No doubt, we have all heard the phrase: “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,” but, that cute little nursery school slogan is simply not true and never was true and never should have been shared with little ones... because, in my opinion, it prevented them from coming to terms with their own feelings that, at some point-in-time, they must do.
In the third grade, for example, I was told that I have big ears and therefore looked like a monkey... which only years later (when I was about 55 years old), I finally realized that I did not look like no monkey at all... (LOL). But, the damage years earlier, had already been done once I told myself... “words will never hurt me,” because they did very much so.
So, here I am today, years beyond 55 years of age (in fact, I wish I could go back) and enjoying our last day at Myrtle Beach before returning home to teach another class and after keeping all my “smart ass” comments in check for a week, I found myself this morning, caught between two different types of feelings and/or emotions that I would like to share with you.
The first of these took place when I was watching a young man, sitting in a beach wheel chair (made of large PVC pipe with balloon wheels) as a result of being paralyzed from the waist down, and was being pushed by his parents out to the water's edge, just so he could experience it. I immediately felt sorry for this lad, who obviously, did not feel sorry for himself otherwise he would probably not have even ventured down here in the first place..
My second emotion/feeling was when this little man dressed in “Jungle Jim” type attire, stopped right in front of our umbrella, and began swinging his metal detector back and forth slowly. On top of his head, he was wearing or appeared to be wearing an inverted, upside down sailor's headgear with the largest set of earphones covering his ears that I had ever seen. When he smiled at us, it reminded me of a motorcycle rider who just rode through a patch of bugs with his mouth open.
Without saying a word, he held up a quarter and moved on... only to return to the exact same spot (or close enough)... sway the detector with more vigor... and, for about 10 minutes, this odd little man dug and swayed and dug and swayed... until he finally looked directly at us and said, “pipe.” My wife and I looked at each other and before we could say a word, he said, “When I was up north, I was finding $5 a day at a beach in New Jersey.” And, with that said, he walked away and we never saw him again.
I looked over at my wife after he was long gone and said, “I should have told him to go back up north.” I said what I did to my wife because this man violated, in my opinion, my personal space... but, then again, so was the young man who was being pushed by his parents in a wheel chair and who had crossed in front of us obscuring our vision.
When I realized what I had said... I immediately thought about the young man in the wheelchair and was angry at myself... and, really felt like a jerk, even though the man with the metal detector did not hear me.
The great thing about like is the fact that human beings, if and when they so desire to be, can be very introspective and use that introspective knowledge to change themselves. And, I can only imagine how wonderful our lives would be if EVERYONE got to the point where no more changes were required of them to make.
We are not there yet... and, I would suspect that we have a hell of a long way to go to achieve my naïve dream; but, you know what... I don't have to care about what others do, all I really need to care about is what I do... and, how I might change...
Perhaps, that is all you have to do is well.
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