Generally, I believe in “Live and Let Live’. But specifically I believe that you damn well better be ready to account for how you live. It’s the lesson I drummed into my kids’ heads forty-kazillion times. The things you do and decision you make are your own. You can’t blame other people for the things you choose to do. Unless there was a gun LITERALLY held to your head (which will be highly unlikely in your lifetime), you will be expected to full responsibility for the things you say and do. This is what I call “Owning Your Shit”.
Thanks to ‘reality t.v.’ there are those human train wrecks going through life thinking that they are a gift to humanity, and have no Shit to Own. And are they truly a gift to humanity? NO. Chocolate is a gift to humanity. Wine is a gift to humanity. Polio vaccines, antibiotics, water purification, art, music and the WHEEL are gifts to humanity. The Jersey Shore cast? Nah. Lindsay Lohan? Um, like, no. Of course there are those of fame and fortune who have striven to do right by humanity, some more humbly than others, but hey, at least they’re doing SOMETHING. Shit-owning, as it were.
If you park in a clearly marked no-parking zone, don’t get pissed at the cop who had you towed. If the sign is there, it was your responsibility to make note and not break the rules. Your choice, your consequence, your shit. Shut up and Own It.
There is a lot of respect to be found in looking someone in the eye, and stepping up to the plate. Have you screwed up at some point and taken responsibility for it? How did that feel? A damn sight better than trying to hide from it or blame someone else, right? Right.
That having been said, I’m not immune from this law of choices and consequences. Sometimes I’m a goddamn genius, and other times I have two ex-husbands. My first marriage was courtesy of youthful inexperience and a steep learning curve, but produced two AWESOME human beings…so…no regrets, no takebacks.
In the case of the second marriage, however, I completely ignored the signs that were right in front of me. Short of having my dead Grandmother appear on my wedding day like the spook librarian in Ghostbusters, I was not about to follow my own instincts and better judgment. Bound and determined to do what my gut was screaming against, I took the plunge with blind faith in someone’s unproven word. My bad, and that’s on me. I chose it, it was disastrous, and I own it. I’d love to sit here and blame the ex, but that’s my point. Regardless of my feelings about his failings (and there were plenty), this is the simple truth: my choice, my consequence. My shit.
So what’s out there that you’ve been needing to take ownership of? (Yeah, I know I ended that sentence in a preposition, but I don’t care) Were you snotty with a sibling because you didn’t get something all your way? Too bad, knock it off. Are you pissed at the food server for screwing up your salad dressing? Get over it. Unless you have an anaphylactic reaction to it, in which case you are entitled to be irked once you can breathe again.
It’s time we all come to terms with a simple truth, we need to Own Our Shit.
We as Americans voted into office the people who had an active hand in driving our nation’s economy into the ditch. The President didn’t flush this nation down the crapper by himself, he had A LOT of help. Some was before he took the oath of office, and some of it since. Regardless of it all, come election day 2012, it’ll be His Shit to Own.
Bottom line is this: you can Occupy whatever and wherever you are allowed to legally…but what’s YOUR Shit to Own?