I adore the epiphany that I’m a small part of something larger, when I, as a cog, can see the output of the machine. I hate being a cog in the machine when the machine expends its cogs, or disregards the individual efforts of each cog.
I appreciate being an American when we rally to help people in need after Katrina, or 9/11, or when we rallied together and rose for a cause such as in the Occupy Movement. In these instances I knew that we had a significant effect on America’s future, and I helped with my small cog portion. I’m revolted in my Americanism when I reflect on how much money General Electric made last year, without paying taxes, and I realize that the son a CEO will never work for survival. I then realize that I will work for survival in the American Machine until the day I die. I’m possibly more talented than the son – but we will never play on level playing fields.
I value my place in the Army when I contemplate being the most lethal fighting force in the world, or when I think of the many cases where we helped needy people in Iraq or Kuwait. I know I played a part. I can’t stand the Army when I see cut backs, and Generals with Congress chucking people who sacrificed for their country . . . dumping Soldiers without a pension after they damaged their bodies, minds, and families on missions they were told to execute. It’s cruel to order someone to sacrifice for you, and then abandon them.
I cherish my role in the family unit with parents, children, grandparents, uncles, and aunts. I love that I’m expected to lend a hand to anyone of the people in my family if they need it, and to know they would reciprocate. I detest being the butt of someone else’s anger or jealousy in the pettiness of other people’s gossip within the family unit. -antiwasp
Filed under: Economy, Military, Parenting, Politics, Relationships, Wisdom