This blog is an answer to a question I’ve been asked, more than a few, times. “Why are you so angry?”
That question always makes me laugh.
I am not angry. Far, far from it. I am a very happy and content individual. I have a wonderful, eccentric family; I have 3 amazing men who call me “Ma/Mom/Blondie”, my husband is the personification of every person’s “Shining knight”. I am healthy, okay…weight is an issue but overall, I’m healthy. I have access to all the technology one could dream of – I have a good job with a great boss, co-workers are funny, quirky, by and large, a great bunch with whom to spend the day. Sure, I get stressed but that’s inherent in any job.
My opinions may sound angry but they are actually a disguise for great sadness. I am sad that there are so many people who will never know the blessing that is my life. I write my opinions in the hope that perhaps what I have to say will cause someone, somewhere to think. I do not expect to change anyone’s opinion but I do ask that people who read what I have to say, think about what I’m saying.
I’m not 20 something, I’m not 30 something…I’m not 40 something. I am at the ending of 50 something. I have not skated through my life on privileged wings, I just don’t choose to wallow in the past, or cloak myself in a pity blanket. I choose, instead, to truly appreciate what I have now. I have no control over what happened in my before-50 something experiences except to use them as a ladder toward learning.
I love my life and the people who grace it. It is simply my dearest wish that others could also share, if just a little, of what I have been given.
Yes, I do get angry when others attempt to subjugate or vilify people of race, creed or colour. I do get angry over greed, criminal behaviours and sleazy politicians. I don’t like class warfare – he who dies with the most toys, is still dead. I am no different from the rest of the silent majority with one exception – I’m not all that silent. I write. I like to write. Some folks like golf. Some like hockey. Some are artists, photographers and sculptors. I love words. I like to play with words. I like to mold words to express my creativity, my view of the world, at large.
Looking around at what goes on in this world and seeing, what I perceive, to be gross injustice, cruelty and general twat-wafflery, does not make me an angry person. It makes me an inquiring one. I want to understand why and if there is no logical explanation, then I write. I don’t feel that life is long enough to sit around and let the global situations flow around me. I want to be that twig that can, at times, separate the flow a bit. I just want people to think.