All a Lot of Oysters, but No Pearls

Wayyyyyy back in the 80s, a man sat at a kitchen table with his 10 year old son, who watched while the man cleaned and oiled his service revolver. He said to his son, “Son, the measure of a man is simple: Do the right thing, no matter how much it costs you and, if you say you’re going to do something, you do it. If you can get up every morning with that on your mind, and go to bed every night, knowing that you lived up to it all day, you will have earned your rest.” The old guy repeated those two rules a few hundred times between that golden day in 1987 and today.

They’re a great set of rules, and I think they’re right on; all the best people I know abide by those 2 things, even if they’ve never said them out loud. I don’t always measure up, but I try, every day, to measure up to the goal the old guy set for me (and, later, I set for myself).

If there’s a problem with walking around with those two things framing your life, it breaks down like this: you get so used to automatically doing what you think is right that you are completely blindsided when someone in your life does something that runs counter and that ends up negatively affecting you. I find myself getting frustrated with people who handle themselves in a manner in which I don’t, whether it’s as simple as a teammate not playing hard or as serious as a work associate acting unethically.

That doesn’t necessarily make them bad people or not worth your time; it just means that, somewhere along the way, your belief structures don’t match up. The question is, do you now have a clearer idea of who that person really is? Is it a one-time slip, or evidence of a pattern? Whatever the answer is, where do you from there?

By nature of being human, we inevitably let one another down; it happens. The difference, I think, is when you know that your actions are going to needlessly hurt and/or disappoint someone, and it doesn’t make you want to change your decisions. Everybody wants what they want, but how much damage are you prepared to leave in your wake?

I’m not better than anyone; I think I fail more than anyone I know. With that being said, I just can’t help thinking that I (along with everyone else) deserve better than I sometimes get. That sense of entitlement makes me a little ashamed of myself. Why do I deserve better? I have an amazing life regardless of the infrequent slings and arrows, so why do the actions of other people bother me so much?

I’ve been chewing on this for a few weeks now. After a series of disappointments and disappointing people, I don’t have an insightful conclusion to this one, and have to wonder if there’s no pearl to be found.

At the end of it all, I don’t really have anything to complain about. I have an undeservedly good life with great friends and family, and the best dog to ever take a dump on grass. And, most nights, I sleep easy, knowing that I earned my rest.