With age, one’s body is apt to fall apart. I was that guy who liked his music loud, and perhaps, my concerts even louder. Yet I realize the errors of my ways, because I am sensitive to loud noises more than ever.
The ringing in my ears comes every now and then, and interestingly it comes from being around loud people and not necessarily loud music. And yet with realizing my ears are sensitive to what I hear, I am able to put that aside if I’m working with someone who equates loudness with being right/correct. I can’t say I’ve stood toe-to-toe with the police in a protest, but I’ve dealt with my parents who often equate how loud they can project their voice with thinking that’s right to begin with, it isn’t, but still I am able to argue rationally and succinctly despite them trying to drown out my voice as well as my opinion.
For just-saying-it sake, volume does not equate to being right. Whether it’s family or the media or other stances, being the loud squeaky wheel will get you the grease but only for a short span of time. At this time in my life I would rather dialogue and hear different opinions than project my voice to command and conquer, to “win” the arguments and debates. I rather take on a posture of listening than talking, communicating what I think instead of communicating what I think others should think. As a follower of Christ I am called to be a witness, not the judge or jury, and by demanding justice and retribution to be done in an unChrist-like way goes against the very essence of who Christ was and what he did when he lived some 2000 years ago.
Who knows where my hearing will be 10 years down the road, it could be the same it could be worse. All I know is that I’d hate to lose my hearing because so much of what I do revolves around actively listening to others, it could put a damper on things if I continue to work in social services.
The thought of not being able to communicate, incommunicado, is a frightening one to me.
Communication is vital to pretty much everything, and there’s more than just verbal communication; Body language is said to make up for over 90% of communication altogether, so I guess it’s not solely what you say but how you say it…and to add that to the lot of not being able to communicate? Shudders run down my spine just thinking about it.
I think first off that if I were incommunicado I would have a hard time doing my job. I do a very good job at active listening on the job, but having built rapport with those I work with, I give suggestions catered to where they are in life. To actively listen but not give any feedback would probably irk a good deal of those I work with simply because I know that they enjoy hearing what I have to say because I don’t sugarcoat things with my clients…but again, it comes from a place of having rapport with them in the first place.
Granted relationships with my friends and family would be stunted, but I think I do a good job of being present and the listener that “what? Nathanael can no longer communicate? I didn’t know that” would be the most common reply (or so I think).
Then there’s this blog…oh noes! I can’t communicate via blogging? Talk about an eLimb that has been hacked off, woe is I! Such a great travesty has befallen mankind in the wake of me not being able to blog…don’t mind my self-imposed verbal theatrics.
So there you have it, from the falling of the Roman empire to me not being able to communicate, such monumental events in the history of mankind.
P.S. But I do realize those who don’t like me, and dare I say perhaps hate me, wouldn’t mind that I could no longer communicate. Well guess what, I’m not incommunicado, I’m still going to do what I do and that includes loving on you! 🙂
I am a self-described foodie; I like all forms of cuisine no matter how weird or odd it is. My rule of thumb is to try it once, and if it is not an enjoyable I don’t have to eat it ever again!
Because of this credo of mine, I’ve tried some weird stuff, but I think the strangest food I’ve eaten was whole cooked fish that was heavily salted. It looked like this:
I was attending a church when I was in college, a Lao church, where I was one of a handful non-Lao members. Every Sunday the aunties would cook up a potluck for anyone and everyone, and I the foodie decided to give it all a try. The chicken foot soup was gelatinous from the cartilage, but was passable, the Lapsong Souschong ice tea was smoky but very good, but the entire fish…One bite in, I was done, not so much the texture but how incredibly salty it was! I did after one bite in accept the challenge of eating the eyes as that was a Lao thing to do (or so I was told)…and so, I still wear an invisible-to-everyone badge of honor for being honorary Lao! 🙂
I keep trying different foods, it’s fun to try the food of other countries. Lately I’ve been sampling the food at a local Nepalese/Indian restaurant called Taste Of Himalayas. I went there for lunch the other day and I had the following:
Chili Pakora; hot peppers deep fried in spices and cornmeal batter. Not bad, comes with different chutneys ranging from minty to sweet to tart. All in all, I like it will have it again.
I also had
Khasi Ko Masu; a goat dish that was very aromatic and spicy, but sadly the goat meat was pretty old or wasn’t marinated long enough because it was chewy and hard. Plus there was a lot of gristle and cartilage to contend with, which really isn’t all that appetizing.
I like eating, I’ve got the gut to prove it and the guts to try it all (maybe). So here’s to different cuisines the world over, and it all begins with that first bite.
I don’t know if there are succubi
among the living, amongst you and I
Who live out with every intent,
to break down men who will repent
That their other woman is a demon,
who they adore now but later will be screamin’
A little bit of pleasure mixed with pain
black and white, a bit of yin and yang,
A balancing act with the darkness,
but to be nothing more than a carcass.
So I’ll avoid the temptation of falling in lust,
because I don’t want to succumb to a succubus.
I want to be a lawyer for zombies. I think they are a part of our population who are grossly uninformed to their rights and the rest of the population looks down upon them and rights them off as a undead brain-eating folk.
Yes, zombies like your brains, but surely there can be some wiggle room so that they get their brains and you keep your life, right? The brain is very adaptive, case in point; A mentally ill young man who shot himself in the head in a suicide attempt suffered a brain injury that apparently eliminated his phobia of germs and his obsession with washing his hands, doctors say. While we use more of our brains than the supposed 10% myth, why not figure out cut out what we don’t need and give them to the zombies. They get to eat, your brain still functions, sounds like a win-win scenario to me!
Better yet, incorporate bioengineering, a bit of cloning, and 3D printers to create brains. Granted the brains might taste weird and nothing like how mom used to make them, but you know when times are hard you gotta eat what you gotta eat. We could also exhume recent “famous” dead people and make copies of brains for that unique flavor, and from what I’ve been told Pete Seeger’s brain pairs excellently with Pinot Grigio.
That’s another thing, if we give zombies brains they will be less grouchy and less likely to step out of line and subsequently they could be integrated in society. No need to perpetuate the Us versus Them paradigm, none of this The Walking Dead tomfoolery, WE can be friends with zombies.
I will not stop, nor will I give up my fight in seeing that zombies get what they want, I am Nathanael, Lawyer for Zombies!