Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Theories on Life

My theory on life was simple and brilliant all at the same time.  After High School I joined the Army National Guard to pay for college.  Included in this adventure was an all expense paid trip to sunny Alabama for 17 weeks of basic and advanced training.  While there I learned many things including how to iron my BDUs, blouse my boots and how to shine my shoes to near mirror finish.  At the end of training, while me squad mates where going off to active duty units I came back home an awaited drill weekend to report to my unit.  My first drill weekend was a real eye opener, I was what you would call hard-core, my uniform was pressed and starched to a near cardboard-like state, and you could just about see your reflection in my boots.  I was sure I could take on the Warsaw Pact single handed, that would soon change however.  Apathy is the best word I can think of to describe the prevailing mood of the Guard unit that I had been assigned to, no one seemed to care about anything other than when the next formation was (payment was based on the number of formations that you attended don't show up to formation you were AWOL).  A typical drill day consisted of PT exercises (depending on the CO), morning formation and then busy-work until lunch.  Usually after morning formation we were sent out to the motor-pool to do preventative maintenance (read check the oil) and report any problems with our assigned vehicles and don't come back till lunch formation.  Now I don't know about you but, I has never taken me 4 hours to check the oil and fluids in any vehicle that I have had, so much for defending the country.

This is where I developed my flawed theory on life.  Preparation for drill weekend was a time consuming process, shining my boots alone (back then they were black leather) could take 2 hours and ironing and starching your BDUs another hour.  It occurred to me one day that no one in charge of our unit really cared how good you looked as long as it was above a minimum standard.  My epiphany was that as long as my uniform was pressed a little better, my boots were shined a little more, my hair was a little shorter than the next guy no one gave a damn that it was not up to Army regs they seemed to take that attitude that good enough was just that.  There were no points or incentive to do these things the right way good enough was good enough we're just weekend warriors after all.  I thought that I was so smart, no longer did I have to spend 2 hours shining my boots before and another hour on Saturday night, no longer did I have to use so much starch or pay to have my BDUs laundered I could just do them good enough.

 Little did I know that this "philosophy" would end up permeating my entire life.  I was never the worst soldier in the company, but thanks to my "brilliance"  was never the best either.  As I got older and "grew up" for lack of a better way of putting it this philosophy became part of me, how I looked at and approached life.  I was never the worst Sheriff's Deputy, but I was never the best, and I was never the worst husband and father but neither was I ever the best.  I spent 20+ years of my life being neither the best nor the worst, do know what that makes you?  Mediocre which means average or accecptable but not very good.  I don't know about anyone else but I did not sit around as a kid and think "Hey when I grow up I want to be average or acceptable, but not very good".

When we stop doing what we know is right and start doing what is easy, that is when we fall.  It happens little by little so slowly that we don't notice or recognize it and if we do we pat ourselves on the back and congradulate ourselves for our genius.  It's not too late however to be the man you were meant to be.  Stop looking back at yesterday, it is gone and it's never coming back look toward tomorrow toward the man you were meant to be and decide to become him every day for the rest of your life. 

This is your life, are you who you want to be?  If the answer is no, it's not too late to make a change.

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