Is the Devil in the Details?

 

photo by Anna Reavis

 

Today I've had reason to consider details and why they matter to some of us.  Personally, I don't care about them at all on a metaphysical, life-changing level, but you let my keys get put where they don't belong, and I'm like a hound on the scent of the ever-elusive rabbit.  I'm a very careful person when it comes to things like keys.  I'd like to think I'm a very careful person when it comes to things like hearts too.  But sometimes, things like hearts give me a hard time.  I try to be considerate, kind, loving, and patient.  I know how to be considerate, kind, loving, and patient.  Does that mean I always am? Nope.  But I am at least aware of these short-comings.  People are hard.  Interpersonal relationships are hard.  Love is hard.  So how do we manage it?

Well... I think we all need to realize that each of us comes from a different place, that each of us speaks out of a personal, past experience that none of the rest of us has had.  On top of that inlay our own personal belief system.  I think dates are stupid; you think dates are important.  You think remembering the details of exactly what is said matters; I think remembering the gist of it is what matters.  And so on.  Here what really matters is that you love other people enough to get beyond these kinds of differences, to understand that the truth of who you are matters more than the details of what has happened to you. 

What I personally believe is that the concepts matter, not the details. I suppose for some people, knowing the details helps in the understanding of the person, but not for me.  For me, it is enough to know if you are my kind of person, and if you are, that's all I need to know.  And what is my kind of person?  Kindness, peace, love, generosity, justice, mercy, humility...these are my nouns.  I don't care where you come from.  What has happened to you does not define you.  What you've done or not done does not define you.  What defines you is who you've become because of it, who you've chosen to become.  And that is what I care about.

The Year of Introspection

photo by Anna Reavis

Instead of blogging this year, I've chosen to spend my writing time in my personal journal.  Most of what I've needed to write this year has been too personal to share publicly.  Sometimes I wish we could all have the freedom and the courage to share our deep personal thoughts, like characters do in novels or the long-dead are able to do in posthumously published journals, as I feel certain we could help each other so much in this way, but it's hard for the living to admit to less than perfection, isn't it?  I think maybe that's what's behind all these ridiculous "selfies" and "look how fab my life is" Facebook posts.  My life on Facebook looked fantastic a few years ago, and I was miserable.  My life on Facebook now looks mundane, and I am happy.  Go figure. I worry about the up and coming generation who seem to think their social digital profiles reflect some kind of truth about them personally, who don't seem to know how to be healthy and happy without their online connectivity.  I feel like maybe it's time for a new digital revolution, a revolution wherein we all admit publically that we are screwed up, all of us, but that we are still fabulous.  All of us.

I promise to try to have a book review ready for Sunday.  I've missed you all.