Planes on Fire and the Shaggy Carpet

I had the pleasure of growing up in an era where the plethora of technical gadgets we have now were simply non-existent. We had an Atari game console with few games and we had a computer that allowed me to play one on one with Magic Johnson and Larry Bird. Those "amazing" magic time wasters came a little later in my childhood though. Most of the time I was left with my siblings and our imaginations. We spent a lot of time riding bikes, playing games in the yard and other activities outside ... some we will just say weren't the most safest events. That was the danger of using our imaginations though. In my childhood home we had a fireplace in the living room. We rarely used this fireplace because it was more for atmoshpere (or romance as I got older) because the heat would all be drawn to the living room and leave the rest of the house cold. So, to have mom give the okay to use the fireplace was a grand event! On one occasion, as my two older brothers and I watched the fire one of us came up with the coolest idea. We would make paper airplanes and stand back about six feet and see if we could throw the planes into the fire and watch their demise. Quickly, we gathered paper, made some planes, slowly opened the chain-like gate and began the "fun." I recall not getting many planes in first but then we became pretty good ... probably because we got closer. It was awesome to watch the planes hit the brick in the fireplace and crash land into the fire and burn up. When we realized the flames were different colors with different colored papers we knew we had to get more paper and all sorts of colors! Before we could act on that though our mom walked into the living room. Needless to say we were taught in a firm yet loving way about how dangerous it was what we were doing. We instantly followed with our rebuttal of how safe it was ... purely motivated by how fun it was. We told our mom that the planes simply went into the fireplace, caught on fire and that was it. She simply followed up with the question, "what happens if a plane catches on fire and flies back into the living room?" We had nothing. Our mom was kind enough to recognize our point but also helped us see that pretty much everything in the living room outside of the fireplace was kind of flammable, especially the green shaggy carpet. The airplanes were taken away and we sat and watched the fire and as any young boys would do after they had been corrected by their parent of a dangerous act we fought the temptation to secretly go get more paper to make planes.

Most of my life I have lived by the principle to just keep quiet when I saw some sort of "injustice" happen. This could range from somebody saying a snide remark about someone behind their back to some sort of incident in a public setting  ... or even that unkind person sitting behind you in the movie theater constantly kicking your chair. I didn't like conflict and immediately attempted to stray away from it even if that meant not saying or doing anything. That has changed over the past few years though. It's not because all of a sudden I have this deep love for conflict. I still despise it. But I despise even more the acts of those that think they can "get away" with things by intimidation, threats, fear or pure rudeness. My sweet wife is helping me see that I don't have to take on every injustice that I see ... but to pick my battles. There have been plenty of times when she simply puts her hand on my knee and smiles at me letting me know that I need to let this one go. I have thought a lot about why I have had this change and I think part of it is vulnerability. I have thought long and hard and have even studied the word vulnerable. I have found that for me depression breaks down any walls I have had to deflect anything against me and makes me so vulnerable. I have had something said to me that wouldn't have effected me before depression came in that I have spent days even weeks thinking about how bad it hurts. It is like running into battle naked. After you get quickly taken down you are down for a while and then get back up still fighting with no armor. Yep, it is difficult. Thankfully with the help of the comfort of the leather couch and my psychologist I am learning to put armor on. I believe that is why I now stand up and say something when I see an injustice happen because I know how deeply it can effect people and they don't need to go through that!! My hope is that someday I will be able to be as strong as those bricks in the fireplace and not as vulnerable as the green shaggy carpet.