Tuesday, November 27, 2012

PB n J



Sometimes I feel really bad for whining about my problems.  My issues don’t hold a candle to people with REAL problems, so how can I complain when I have it so much better than they do?  Even a lot of people I am close with have much more to worry about than I do.  All in all, I have things pretty darn easy, and I will be the first to admit it.

But then I think… when does a problem become worth whining about?  (Honestly never because whining is a language reserved for pre-pubescent tweens and newborns who are hungry or have soiled themselves, but ignoring that…) And then I go back to this pyramid of needs I learned about in high school, or middle school, or all-the-time school, or something.  As each level, starting with the bottom-most, is filled, one can move up to a higher level.  But if something goes wrong on a level below, the upper levels are temporarily forgotten.
                                                                

                                                            /Creativity, Morals, Fun\
                                                       /Self Esteem, Confidence, Respect\
                                                /Relationships, Friendship, Sex n Stuff\
                                          /Health, Family, Money Stuff (security), Home\
                                     / Food, Air, Water, Internal Body Stuff for Existence\

I don’t think it bodes well for my offspring that it took me two minutes to find the “ \ ”.  Also making that pyramid took way too long for how it turned out… Class break well spent.

Anyway.  Whatever level we happen to be on (and they change all the goddamn time) is what level your worries will be most occupied with.  If you’re living on the streets, you’re not gonna be worried about getting a six-pack; you’re gonna want that pizza you found hanging out the lip of the trash bin.  If you’re drowning, you aren’t gonna be too horny.  If you have your health, basic living necessities, friends and family who are in good health, and some decent self-esteem, your worries might consist of what some people would call trivial things: Not liking that last oak tree you decided to add in to your masterpiece painting.

But this is understandable; it’s how we function.  And, looking back at my crappy representation of the hierarchy of needs (it’s Maslow, btw, for the 0 of you who care), I realize that everyone, no matter what level they exist on, has one thing in common:

We are all alive.  If you can read this, you are alive.  If you are going through a tough break up, you are alive.  If you are living day-to-day, you are alive.  This whole “living” thing is something that a lot of people have not had the good fortune to experience for very long.  Being in my 20’s I realize that so many people have lived much shorter lives than I… even though I feel that mine is just beginning.

Every so often I have to remind myself to stop worrying about my shit, whatever level it might be on, and enjoy my goddamn sandwich.

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