There is a little piece of paper taped up on the wall of the office my husband and I use. It reads;
“In the realm of all things great and possible, does this really matter?”
Meaning–whatever is making you crazy, feeling like you are ready to rip someone’s lips right off their face, ready to pull somebody’s hair out through their nose, ready to let go with a line of words that would make the sun melt–are these things happening to you at that moment really worth spending your most valuable commodity on, your precious time? We, well I, taped this up after a particularly rough time.
Nothing earth shattering, just your normal rough patch that everyone occasionally experiences. But I do remember that the well at the house was out of commission. FYI; if you live in town you still can have access to water when the power goes out. When the power goes out at my house I not only have no power, I have no water because the well needs power. In town the water comes to your house by gravity from a storage tank. At my house the pressure tank provides water to my house but only when it is pumped up by the water from the well, which needs power to pump. Any questions? Not to mention that the first, I mean the VERY first thing that happens when the well goes ka-fluey or the power goes out; I have to go to the bathroom. He, the husband, says it’s a woman thingy. He likes to refer to this syndrome as the attack of the BB bladder: as in the size of a small BB. Yes I’m referring to the BBs shot from Daisy BB guns owned by youngsters. Can’t you just hear mothers saying, “Be careful, you could put someone’s eye out with that thing!”
During the Thanksgiving season our family tried to come together for family closeness. I grew up in a, well let’s just say ours was a busy, loud but loving home. As we all grew up, moved on and came back home for the holidays there was always confrontation. But we never caved into agreeing just to stop the madness. I learned to stand my ground, but only if I was in the right. Like I knew my husband and I were right to go to the red light district in Ely, Nevada and bring my ex brother-in-law home for Thanksgiving. Why? Because mom said to, that’s why. (Must be why he ended up the EX brother-in-law.) Oh those holiday memories! Truthfully, you have to have some good old family memories to share too… Share them around the table this season.
That is what that little yellowed piece of paper stuck to the wall does for us. Helps us put things in perspective along with helping us to restore what little bit of sanity we cling to daily. However, there are times when I feel that in the realm of all things great and possible, it, whatever it is, really does matter.
Case in point: Where did this “Let’s agree to disagree” come from? If you tell me the sky is green, never in a million years will I believe or agree with you. Furthermore, if you continue to tell me all about this lovely green sky you see and then I continue to disagree with you and you start to back paddle because you can’t win or convince me, I will never “agree to disagree” just to appease you. A disagreement is not something that both sides can agree on. That is just idiotic. I’m trying my level best in life not to get sidetracked by the train wreck of politically correct-ness. Trying to be PC (politically correct) you can really find some idiotic levels which a normal, sane person, that actually sees a blue sky, will never go.
The idea of agreeing to disagree had to have been developed, created, procured, or just plain started by someone with whom I will agree, had no ability to win an argument. Had no foundation or knowledge of their facts to prove their side of a discussion. Probably also known as having no common sense. There is an unparalleled satisfying feeling of winning a disagreement. We as humans love to win. To win there must also be a loser. The satisfaction, the puffed-up-chest, the ta-da of being right must not be lost by agreeing to disagree. So stand your ground. But just with words. The next step from words moves us to physical confrontation and deciding if the sky is green or blue isn’t important enough to come to blows over. Don’t you agree?
Trina Machacek lives in Eureka. Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle. Share your opinions and thoughts with her at firstname.lastname@example.org