I Get The Point

It bothers me, the way time slips away without a whisper sometimes. I didn't feel it; I felt sharp points. I have never appreciated nor tolerated sharp points well. Give me curves and blunt instruments. Sharp points, as a child came as flu shots my bad aunt wielded like pick axes. My bruised swollen arms took weeks to recuperate. Plunging, stinging points came in swarms on three different occasions when I stepped into ground honest nests. Razor sharp knives cut off the end of my left index finger when it was where it shouldn't be in a hungry wood chipper. Needles are what I used to administer insulin to my diabetic cat. Damn, I hate sharp points.

It bothers me, the way my life is now scarred by sharp points. There are the obvious ones, like the medication I have to administer through shots every other day for my M.S. And there are the needles used when I need a contrast MRI, or chemotheraphy IV day long treatments, and the countless bloodtests, and lately, the revisiting of the CAT scan color contrasts and the new octreatide scans with those nuclear marker IVs.It's amazing how the scientific community just keeps coming up with new ways to pentrate and accost the body.

And then there are the not so obvious sharp points, the ones that really do more than numb the spirit; they numb the soul. The past couple of weeks have been difficult at best. In the city there are many, many people, and some of them gather together to help others. Actually, New York City has one of the highest rates in volunteerism even before 9-11, and I am definitely in that percentage. In our axuiliary police unit, we strive to live up to a motto--"To be mature, knowledgeable, professional, and above all, courteous." We patrol and we have each others' backs. We are diverse in every respect of the word. I have been with this unit for over 14 years, and I have always experienced the best of humanity; we are a family. But this feeling was sharply severed a couple weeks ago when some of the individuals succumbed to a feeling of self importance and self entitlement which rose above what we really are there for--the community. And this darker side of humanity arose in the shadows rather than out in the open. We have worked hard to not let this betrayal destroy the rest of the whole, and I think we have succeeded thanks to openness and honesty. Our better nature prevailed, but we are left with wounds and a relization that even we are not immune to sharp objects.

I guess I put these kinds of sharp objects in a basket called the dangerous side of being human. And in this basket are feelings like: arrogance, self importance, self righteousness, greed, and entitlement. I have seen these run rampant in my workplace at times, too often to count. I have seen them now run amok in my volunteer space. And I have certainly experienced them through the years in many forms and degrees both in the city and in the montains. This destructiveness resides in each and every one of us. I think we are tempted to use them when we are afraid or angry. It is up to each and every one of us to be vigilant and not fall prey to them. I am afraid I am very intolerant of who are not. I am pissed off that I have recently lost time to these kinds of behaviors lately, and because of that, I must now make sure that I do not let my anger turn into self righteousness. Damn, life is so complicated, full of sharp turns. I prefer curves.