Just because you don’t want it to happen, never meant that it won’t. And when it happens, there’s the heart wrenching pain of realising why you never wanted it to happen. That’s as much as I can say about losing a parent.
As it became apparent that I was going to greet 59 in isolation from the pandemic, I thought I’d discover whiteboard animation. A subscription to Video Scribe, and here you have it. At no better place to start than…
According to the widely accepted sequential mathematical numeration of the Gregorian calendar, I am 52 today. And I feel I’m in a good place. But I often find that even though I feel that way many seem to perceive it differently. They seem to find me grumpy, frumpy or simply call me out for being grouchy. No matter that I’m feeling just fine. What gives? Is it just simply expected of the age group? That over-50s would just be expected to be grouchy each time we express ourselves?
I don’t know really. Because the more I inquire the grouchier I’m deemed to be. But I’m going to try recollect some moments when I’ve being called grouchy despite how I really actually feel.
They call me Grouchy because . . .
I get exasperated when folks make a song and dance about questions rather than actually answering them.
At 52 I still believe in change for improvement while others still reminisce for things to remain the same.
I can’t stand indecision. Or the wishy-washy attitude that stands in the way of committing to a decision.
I refrain from discussing with idiots because I just don’t have enough experience at being one to get my points across.
I don’t consider stating the obvious in a more caring tone as being good advice.
I don’t have the need to be around other people or let other people know to validate my deeds, my thoughts or my feelings.
I don’t berate preachers for stating the obvious as lessons in life, but do despair at the masses that need them to state the obvious when learning about life.
I recognise fallacies in arguments and but still couldn’t get any sense across with those who simply augment fallacies for arguments.
I prefer the religious approach that serves humanity over one that is more about serving salvation for the self.
I ignore clichés because they merely generalize situations rather than offer actual solutions on how to deal with them.
I find that dealing with upsetting someone by constantly justifying yourself and what it does to you is merely looking to make yourself feel better that you upset the person, but does not alleviate anything between you in the long run.
I no longer gloat that I recognize the right questions, but actively seek to find the right answers rather than waiting for some popular media figure to give them.
I choose reflection rather than deflection when dealing with personal issues.
I deplore those who constantly choose to turn away or quit because it’s lazier/easier to do nothing and feel bad rather than face it and make efforts to feel better.
I don’t spare much time for fatalists who attribute everything about their life to fate rather than accept the consequences for the choices they’ve made.
I refuse to simply accept that human error is just about being human because to me being human is being given the capability to recognise and rise above such errors.
I say and do and practice all these, and if it’s not familiar or at odds with a person’s standing or beliefs, it’s mentally easier to just dismiss them as the grievances of a grouch than to think and look into them for what they are.