The Truth. Too Much To Ask?

I posted on FaceBook recently to address the way a political group had put together their ‘call to rise’ against…. it doesn’t matter what they are against – that isn’t the point. The point is if you are going to publish or speak an arrangement of words intending to bring people to your point of view, I believe the truth needs no window dressing… and their truth had plenty of window dressing.

I get it – it’s tempting to play the tune in a way that might attract not just those in the choir, but also the parishioners and maybe even a few people walking by the church. When you blur over the specifics and cast a wide net you can sure bring in a lot more people with “THE WORLD IS GOING TO END SOON” as opposed to “Some scientists believe that if we continue at our current trend of polluting and living as we have, the world will self-destruct in 1000 years” (while this could be true – “I” am just making this up – please no one get your panties in a twist).

When it’s laid out like that we can all see the difference. The first statement is accurate as far as generalizations go but “soon” is subjective, as is “recently” and statements that only tell half the story – most often, the part of the story that is most beneficial for the cause.

All I want is the truth, and, if it’s complicated, it would be nice if someone can break it down into smaller bits for me but if not, I’ll either research it or not but the truth doesn’t lean. The truth doesn’t have a side or a position or a political party or a cause – it just ‘is’ and that’s the way I would like it.

Fast and loose with the truth seems to be the way to be today. The United states has a President that seems to dream up things to say that bear no resemblance to the way things are – denies that things happened when there is actual video footage documenting the event, lies so frequently that one starts to assume everything he says is a lie or at least a half-truth and employs a staff of people who’s sole purpose seems to be either explaining why what he said isn’t what we think he said or repeating it over and over again in a manner strangely resembling a 3 year old’s magical thinking.

We now even have a term, “alternative facts” a term that when googled as of right now nets 238 million results. Back in the day, ‘alternative facts’ were, well, and still are, simply ‘fiction’.

The point is that it happens more and more and with every alternative fact that is swallowed up by people that are willing to accept them without holding anyone to a standard that says “this is unacceptable” gives society at large less to live up to and soon we will have to research every statement that is ever made because no one will be trustworthy.

You think that’s not a big deal? Nicotine isn’t addictive and is harmless. how’s that for a big deal?

Thanks for checking in.

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I am a slob.

I have been a slob most of my life.

I remember my bedroom as a child looking very much like, as my mother so aptly would put it, “a tornado rolled through it”. I have since seen photographs of natural disasters and she was right, that’s exactly what it looked like.

On one memorable occasion some 35 plus years ago I remember being told that before I could go to my boyfriend’s house until I cleaned my room – I’m thinking I was 17 or 18. So, in a rush to get to the bus station (yes, bus station) I did my usual ‘compact and hide’┬áversion of cleaning.

Yes, (sigh) I do now and did then understand that ‘compact and hide’ was not actually cleaning but my interpretation then, and not much has changed now, was that the important thing was that it looked tidy – and it did – as long as no one opened a closet door or looked under the bed.

On that fateful day, evidently, someone did indeed open a closet door because, in spite of making it to the bus station on time, I missed the bus. Instead of rolling down the highway to Odessa in the plushy comfort of a coach bus, I found myself face to face with my father coming to cart me home to clean my room properly. I’m telling you there is nothing that has before or since made my heart pound like that look on my dad’s face!

You’d think that all that imposed cleanliness would have rubbed off a little wouldn’t you? Not so.

As an adult, I have continued to be a slob. Or, as I prefer to say, I have a “relaxed perception of tidiness”.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the house to be tidy – I’m just not very inclined to do the tidying and more likely to be making the mess and adding to clutter. I have strong packrat tendencies… verging on hoarding and by some accounts, might be a little more than borderline on that. I keep things, from my email inbox; (clutter – aptly named – currently standing at 1508 emails), to that nicely sized cardboard box that might come in handy for something, my inclination is to save it – just in case.

The times that this ‘relaxed perception’ has been helpful in my life? Not so much. Sure, I’m your girl if you are out with me somewhere and just happen to need something like oh, a measuring tape or a single sock or an empty prescription bottle (I have all of those things in my purse), but more likely than not, it only leads me to hastily shoving things in closets hours before a visitor arrives or looking humiliated when someone drops in unannounced because, while the cleanliness didn’t rub off, the idea that lack of it was something to be ashamed of sure did.

So now, fast forward 35 plus years after the ride of shame with my dad, my house is ‘pristine’.

My secret? Nope, I didn’t just ‘get with the program’ or go to some kind of behavior modification therapy or hypnosis – the secret is that my partner, my person, my ‘better half’ is pretty much the polar opposite of ‘relaxed’.

She is a ‘neatnik’. (yup! it’s a word!) It took me a long time to find a word that described a person in a constant state of tidy that didn’t sound derogatory or judgy. That is not to insinuate that the voice in my head isn’t judgy when things are being systematically tidied in my wake.

Oh, I’m exaggerating a little. There are a couple of places that are my mess sanctuaries. My nightside table seems to have a cloak of ‘don’t touch’ around it although I’ve never said that it’s off limits. Ummm… oh, there’s my mess dresser in the dining room that has 3 full drawers of clutter and a little on top… that seems to be mine… but other than that there isn’t much that’s safe from being tidied – rearranged – resorted or re-presented to the point that I find myself doing this odd balancing act in my own mind between saying … “ok, whatever, I always wanted a maid” to “for cryin’ out loud just leave the bloody dish in the sink until I get back to it!”

The point is that it is absolutely my own inner demons causing all the ruckus. When the dishes are re-arranged in the dishwasher or my clothes are miraculously ported from the top of the dryer to the end of the bed I want to scream. My intelligence says I shouldn’t care – however, the perception that I’m being ‘cleaned up after’ triggers a voice in my head that drowns out the calm rational side, the voice chides me for not picking up my coat, or leaving my laundry, or cleaning that dish in the sink without letting it soak …. and the feelings of guilt and shame from childhood come to the surface again.

So then what? All that leads me to feeling annoyed and irritable – and snippy. Never a good thing but I would really like to silence that inner critic so I can just enjoy that I have a Felix to my Oscar – and a meticulously kept home.

A work in progress. Still.

Graphic borrowed from which is where I’m going next to see what kind of helpful information might be found there…

Thanks for checking in.

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