Envy Is Destroying Western Culture

Envy Is Destroying Western Culture

Envy is at the roots the core problem that plagues our culture – specifically that of the West.  It is destroying my generation.

Why Envy?  It’s all about that tenth commandment from that terrible mythical book that tells us not to covet.

What prompted this realization was a podcast by Quintus Curtius entitled, “Letting Go Of The Anger And Resentments Of The Past” in which he goes over why it happens and where it comes from.

I’ve seen people who have been so thoroughly damaged by their past that their anger consumes them and is dished out upon the surrounding world.

Their inability to let the past go cripples them.  Unlike the song, they shall not overcome.  Instead, they give into a formidable and dangerous form of envy, because its easier then taking any responsibility.  Why work on yourself, if others are completely at fault?

It is indeed envy more than it is jealousy because envy is the reaction to lacking what others have while jealousy is the usual reaction to losing what you have – usually not just in possessions, but people as well.

Look at the roots of the Social Justice dogma that plagues my millennial generation; it is a fundamental belief that you have been deprived, wronged, and prevented from having what is rightfully yours.  Everyone else is oppressing you.

The 1%, the cis straight white male with a decent white collar job, the normal everyday blue collar worker with no criminal record; they don’t deserve it, but the fact that they have it and you don’t leads to that boiling rage and all consuming fire of envy.  It’s not even just limited to success, as people covet the looks of others, blaming those looks and their lack of them for their inability to succeed.  On social media, this has been dubbed, “The Instagram Effect”. 

Look at the results of that fire. It destroys the lives of those who social justice types and feminists who have subconsciously and unknowingly became nihilists as the logical conclusion of their ideology tears into reality.

Consider the critics of men like Mike Cernovich.  What is at the root of their anger toward him? His success.  His influence. His ability to self-publish a book and sell over 15,000 copies in less than six months. Because they can’t have it, no one else can.  They want his “fame” and “fortune”, but they don’t want any of the hardwork that went with it and the family that Cernovich has created in these last few years.

They firmly believe that they are simply “leveling” the playing field, but don’t actually realize that they are destroying it because they hate themselves and what they have become.

Of course they can’t realize this because they are so thoroughly broken by their pasts, that they can’t see beyond their own pain, nor see the pain of other “privileged” people in front of them.

The resentment that Quintus talks about is all consuming. People who have more then you do aren’t just “privileged”, they are an enemy. Because they have what you don’t, they must be taken down a notch and made to “check their privilege.” Why create when you can steal, plunder, and destroy what was your enemies?

 

Envy Is Destroying Western Culture
Creating something new.

But even that isn’t enough. They are a kind of evil, to be vanquished. The homeless cis straight white male on the streets isn’t evidence of holes in their ideology, but rather a confirmation that the “Patriarchy”, “White Supremacy”, or whatever other buzzword effects the “privileged”.

Envy when left unchecked, and the anger and resentment that give birth to it, eventually result in a complete lack of empathy.  Ironically, that lack of empathy is exactly what they credit as to leading up to “systematic racism”, “white supremacy”, “Patriarchy” and the rest of it.

They have become that monster they despised and fought against.  Not only are they now becoming the establishment in both academic and media circles, but they are far more vicious and less empathetic then the dethroned evil they had fought against.  Even their fellow revolutionaries can be apart of the oppressive establishment and their  their supposed allies problematic, hence the recent inquisition by feminists targeting the “misogyny” of the gay community.

Why? What is turning them into Medusas that turn to stone everything they see?

Nietzsche was right when he said, “Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

They are now that monster, fueled by anger and resentment of what others supposedly have which they do not.  Leveling the playing field isn’t enough anymore; they must now destroy and dismantle everything that the previous “establishment” has created and produced.

This is why political correctness isn’t just running amok, its becoming more personal each and every day as the political becomes deeply personal.

Envy is indeed dangerous, especially to those who are desperate to find a cause to give their life meaning and in turn adopt causes like “Feminism”, “Fat Acceptance”, and “Cultural Sensitivity” because they know their life doesn’t have purpose.  So does everyone else.

Because of that, no one else’s life can either.

This doesn’t have to be any of us. It doesn’t have to be you.  Even if everyone else is completely at fault for your problems, it won’t change the fact that you still face those problems.

“Stop hating and start creating.” – Mike Cernovich

Angry Conversation With a Stranger On A Train

It’s October of last year in the evening. I’ve made it to the train station just in time, half-walking and half-jogging.   My mood is somewhat relieved and I’m looking forward to listening to some music in the bliss of the ride home.

Hopping on the train at the Lake Forest stop, I grabbed a seat on the upper deck, put the other two down near me, and proceeded to lay down on them as a kind of makeshift bed.

Laying down, I glance up at my phone as I browsed through reddit and the newest stories of the perpetual outraged, headphones playing loud angry music in my ear.  Yes, I find Senses Fail to be quite relaxing.

Sounds.

Voiced sounds.

It looks like the guy across is talking to me.  His lips are moving.

Is he?

Yes, he is.

I take out my headphones and he wants to know if I’m okay,  as I was coughing while laying down.  He mentions that, “I’ve seen people die on this train.”

His tone of voice and his non-verbals are seeped in “hidden” distaste for me.  I ignore it, brush it off, and assure him I’m fine as I go back to Reddit.

15 minutes later I notice he is saying something again.

I take out my headphones to hear him.

By the way his mouth is moving and the look on his face, he doesn’t look happy.  This time he seemed VERY agitated about the way I was sitting. Apparently he thought I might be taking pictures of him with my phone, which I wasn’t.  I thought this odd considering how I was sitting and the direction I was facing.

He is now quite upset by the way I was laying down.

Again, he tells me that I am being rude.  How? My semi-open dangling legs were exposing my crotch to the Indian girl sitting several seats down and that was apparently very rude.

It was then that I realized I had been targeted.

He wasn’t going to let this go.  He was looking for a verbal confrontation and his cross-hairs had landed directly on me.

I sat up, took the initiative, and attempted to deflect and diffuse the verbal attacks.  I am a communications major after all.  Finally, perhaps I can see how well some of theories apply to real-world situations.

He’s in a half-rage mode; a strawman here and an angry passive-aggressive accusation there.  The anger and frustration in his voice is starting to build.   Conclusions and assumptions about me are landing left and right.

I’m taken back for a second. I was startled – almost confused.

What is this tumblr?  Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration.  

Picture courtsey of http://baptistnews.com/
Picture courtsey of http://baptistnews.com/

Apparently I was some punk ass-kid/student from Chicago coming down here to get off at Libertyville station stop and I didn’t give a fuck about the other people on the train.  Perhaps it’s my “hipster look” that planted the seeds of wrath.  I prefer to think of it instead as well-groomed and well-dressed for my stature. 

I pointed out to him that NO ONE has ever objected to the way I’ve laid down before.

In fact,  it had NEVER happened before.  He was the first damn one.  I’m starting get irritated now with him and how this has all started.

He insists its a matter of being respectful. My inner philosopher ignites and I assume that he will have a post-modern framework for his concept on “respect” and as to what constitutes as my previous “rude” behavior.   I begin my philosophical adventure.

I proceeded to question him on how he knew what was “Respectful.”  He appeals to the way he was raised.  Interesting.   Apparently us young punks know nothing about respect – I secretly agree with him.

Further in the conversation reveals that he is basing his view of the concept on experience, tradition, and essentially his parents.   This actually creates in me some respect for him and it causes me to pause in my planned verbal retaliation.

I started trying to think to myself about why he was giving me such a hard time. It was a serious, “Dude, wtf?” moment of thought.   Should I stand up for myself and not put up with this crap?  Perhaps I wasn’t giving him a reason to respect me.

We were now at a point where  I suspected that other people were going to become involved as his tone of voice kept getting louder.

Great.

I wasn’t in the mood for this to escalate and as much as I enjoy uncomfortable situations, this was lacking the humorous and adventurous side  to it.  Also, I was hoping the conductors weren’t going to get involved, though I was certain they’d side with me.

No, I was going to fight my own battles.  That’s what a man does – when he can.

It was here the conversation turned.

I pointed out to him I lived in Fox Lake, I also told him about how I thought his age had nothing to do with whether I respected his opinions or not.  Living in Fox Lake meant that I wasn’t some spoiled rich yuppie from Libertyville who thinks that the world is my trash dump.

I ask a few questions meant to flush out what was bugging him – what had caused the initial simmer of suppressed rage inside him.  I knew there was more here than meant the eye.  No one flies off the handle over something so small…

Conversations like these – maybe not as heated at first as this one was – are something I live for.  They break up the routine of my day. I made the most out of this one and I’m glad I did, because I learned something. 

This fellow’s name was Jim.

I plied Jim for more about himself and he told me his back-story.   He’s a 53 year old micro-biologist who works his ass off to put his two of his three daughters through college. His marriage leaves much to be desired and “support” isn’t something he’s experienced in a while. He’s struggling financially, but fishing with his buddies at least gives him some reprieve.   Put blankly, he feels unfulfilled, confused, and somewhat jaded through life – a state of almost mental and emotional exhaustion.

Even though, my situation isn’t even close to his, I felt a kind of kinship for Jim – as man to man.   It’s no accident that I feel as I’ve met people just like him before with similar frustrations with life.

I feel a sense of sympathy for him.

During the rest of the ride and our conversation, he would apologize several times to me. Throughout the conversations, he would continue this regarding the initial assumptions he had made about me, but I told him not to worry about it.

“The past is the past,” I told him.   For the most part, that is a motto I live by.

Jim you see is a classic example of a guy going on through life who needs a chance to vent every once in a while, but doesn’t.  I don’t know if he’s ever really been given the chance, but I suspect he’s had this bottled up in him for a while.

It was the small action of the way I laid that set him off.  I had experienced my own WW1 spark in interpersonal conflict.

Jim is a good guy, but he’s been through a lot more than I would have thought.  . He tells me stories about how he’s been attacked and beat up in Fox Lake outside of bars.  Drinking sometimes has a steeper price than a hangover.

He was starting to see crime, drug deals around the Fox Lake train station and even right outside the Thortons nearby.  The realization of the scuminess of my town and that of humanity was getting to him. He emphasized that no one cared about what had happened to him or what was happening around.

That was what got me. No one cared about what he had seen, heard, and experienced so he never bothered to vent about it.    No support, he just kept it tightly wrapped and wound up.

What happened to Jim – just one action- that magnifies to a great extent the rest of what he has been feeling and seeing can happen to myself.

I literally told him when we got off the train, “There’s only so much a man can handle before he explodes.”  I’ll never forget the look on his face. It was one of gratitude and of shock in that he realized I understood him – despite our difference in age and situations.

                                    In every story and conversation there is a lesson.

 

All men out there need a time and a chance to vent.   This isn’t toxic masculinity; it’s the necessary expression of rage and anger that we are forced to keep a lid on.

This of course doesn’t change the fact that most men keep this rage, frustration, depression, and anger pent up.   Some have found ways to manage – the gym, 1st person shooters, sports, ect, but is it enough?  I suppose  these methods won’t get your a way that won’t get you arrested, hated, and in constant fights with your wife, but there must be more.

We all need friends – real friends – as an outlet and as support to  get things off your chest that no one else will understand or be able to hear.   Your wife, girlfriend, or effeminate therapist wont’ be able to console you in the same way that other men will.  These male friends can provide you with the wisdom that is gained from the experience of life, as well as the understanding of the vast challenges that men face in today’s culture.

They won’t BS you, but they will hear you out, and offer the necessary – if rough – advice that others won’t.  Reddit might be one way to do this, but face-to-face with close male friends is the best.  This isn’t homosexual, it’s simply men getting close with another and bonding over the challenges and quest that is life.

Get it all off your chest.

We all have pent up rage that builds. It’s a matter of fact of life. The people who explode are some how seen as terrible, immature, ect but the reality of life is that this is just a natural part of humanity.

Let it go.

Don’t be afraid to tell your friends what’s really on your mind.  Be yourself and I’m not saying that in a BS “feel good” cultural way.  Find and make close male friends who are willing to help you out and offer you solid wise advice.

Before we parted ways at the station, Jim told me he was glad the conversation happened.

I was too.

It was a raw unfiltered and genuine conversation that should happen between men more often.

 

My Brutal Self-Reflection

I’m a fortunate son.

Self-reflection is often something we neglect – or perhaps I simply avoid. I’d like to give a shoutout to DCLlive for his post, “Don’t Lose Your Identity”, that got me reflecting honestly about where I am at in my own life after discovering the manosphere and principles of TRP.    If I am brutally honest, I feel like a pampered failure who has squandered his inheritance in a pig’s snout.

My pride hurts.  While other people I know might believe I’ve got it together, I know deep-down that I don’t.

Change is often something that must come directly from within.  Family, friends, and worldview can help prod me along, but ultimately I must have the drive and ambition to lead the charge within myself. Unfortunately, I really don’t.

I discovered the manosphere a bit over 6 months ago and it’s most certainly had an effect on my life.  I’ve gotten laid more, become much better at talking to girls, and  have gotten them coming to me – woman want me and that’s not an egocentric statement.

I’ve gained a better understanding of attaining the kind of relationship I want,  started to understand what becoming a man requires,  the importance of developing and improving myself, and making use of my time – thanks to being introduced to “Minimalism” through Captain Capitalism and one of his books, “Enjoy The Decline.”   Things are looking up.   They also are bugging me though.

The more and more I think about it, I realize I’ve wasted alot of the time of my early 20s.   I managed to get out on my own for a year and rent an apartment with my friends. Even though it was a mistake, I learned a lot.  I then took a few years off school, but didn’t do much besides work.

I’m one of those lucky individuals who has free tuition because my father works at the school. (I have no debt.)  That being said, I still have squandered the time, barely made an attempt to get anything more than passing grades, and essentially have been fooling around while living in my parents basement.  Even the time I dedicate to homework I waste playing games, watching movies, ect.

I can pick the time and days I work because of my job at my school and I can literally work it around my class schedule.   Even then, I choose not to work nearly as much as I should.   I essentially have no bills, besides a phone bill and gas as my Dad has been covering my car insurance and even currently the phone bill.

How’s that for independence?

It scares me.   I don’t want to be one of those losers going into their 30s who really is still dependent on their parents.

Even when I graduate from college, which appears to be the next semester, I’ll have turned 27 in October.  I don’t even know what I will do with my degree, besides be happy that it was free.  I am already ashamed of the fact it will have taken me that long to graduate, besides the fact that I’ve been able to take alot of non-related degree classes allowing me to really enjoy my college experience.

Even most of my family makes comments about how long it has taken me and my uncle asks me what I plan to do when I get done with it all.  I honestly don’t have a good answer to give him. This also scares me.  What am I actually going to do for a career? I’m still not sure at this point.

I know I should acquire as many skills as I can at this point, but I can’t motivate myself to form any kind of ambition, despite things being handed to me on a plate.    I’ve actually attempted to learn some internet coding languages, but I can’t seem to force myself past the initial steps.  This even occurs when I try to learn basic video editing – I get too lazy to bother following through.

How can I actually allow myself to blow this kind of opportunity?

I barely bother to apply myself with my homework, and as I type this, I’m mightily behind in a Spanish class this semester I’ve barely applied myself to – despite actually wanting to learn Spanish.

Being brutally honest with myself, I’ve come to this conclusion: I’ve become a nasty internet cliche of everything I don’t want to be.

I need to get my shit together.  Change starts from within.  I want to become a real man with real responsibility – actually becoming mature. Can I motivate myself to do that? I hope to God that I can.

It’s time for me to develop a motivation mindset.

Improving Your Situation Always Starts With You.

On my WP feed, an important post was made on a blog I follow called , “A Holistic Journey“. The blogger, alohaleya, recently wrote a post, My Fiction Put Me In Debt, in which she talks about the effects of resentment in her life toward her father as well as feeling shame for holding others responsible.

What specifically caught my attention was the following:

“I’m the one who’s chosen to interpret my life events as I have. I’m the one who’s assigned deep meaning to old memories…and this meaning no longer serves. For years, I viewed my dad in a certain way because I’d trained myself to see only what supported my stories.

Often we get stuck in this kind of rut that resembles our own personal bubble which we alone shape.  We end up forming a narrative that specifically is based off what we allow ourselves to focus on.  This isn’t something to be judged for as much as its just a fact of life for every individual.  What alohaleya did here is to recognize it. The sooner we recognize this, the sooner we can actually attempt to take control of our lives.

“But I am ashamed of how I’ve held others responsible for the situations I’ve created. I’m now seeing the power I have to choose and to create differently.”

For those of us willing to admit it, we have all gone through this.  I have realized something however; it’s important to take responsibility for the situations we are in, because even if we can lay the blame 100% squarely on the shoulders of someone else – even if they are completely fault – you are still in that nasty situation regardless of who is at blame.”

It doesn’t magically get better or go away, even if we feel better if someone else takes the “blame”.   Our society – particularly in America – teaches us to blame someone else and use that blame to appeal to others for help.  In other words, you are forced to depend on others to make your life better.  Will doing that actually improve the situation that you are in? (Not just financially, but your life in general?)

I find her post inspirational.  Life is short. Very short. I came across the story of Lauren Hill, a girl whose dream to play basketball, will ultimately be ended by her brain cancer which gives her only a few weeks to live.  Put yourself in a situation where you only have a few weeks to live. Would you hold on to the problems of the past? Or move on to the future?  Stay strong alohaleya and keep growing.

“To Move On, Is To Grow.”

5 Ways To Eat Healthy and Cheap on The Run

I live like a homeless person.  I can sometimes grab food when I stay at my friends house or at my parents, but often I end up sleeping in my car to save gas.    This means that the free cheap meals can be hard to attain.

One of the biggest expenses that I, many college students, and many of my friends have in general is eating out.  Unfortunately that usually includes crappy fast food which you know is bad for you, but you don’t have the time to cook a meal.   Welcome to my world.

Well it’s time to stop cramming those Mcdoubles down you mouth and save yourself some money – while eating some cheap healthy food of course that will help you lose that weight destroying your self-esteem.

1. Stop at a Jewel, Marianos, Walmart, ect and pick up some fruit.  You can also often get baby carrots for dirt cheap.  Bananas and Apples are your close friends.  Ideally, you want to focus on produce that you can eat while you drive.

2. You can stop at places like Dollar General, Family Dollar, ect and get nuts.  Avoid the roasted and heavily salted nuts if possible. Almonds, peanuts, and cashews make very good sources of protein that will help fill you up.

3. DRINK MORE WATER.  It’s a known fact that water not only will decrease your appetite and thus your desire to eat food, but it’s very important to your overall diet.  Something like 70% of American’s are dehydrated.  That’s bad, M’kay?

4. Don’t buy food at gas stations if possible. If you have no choice, settle for nuts of some kind.  They will at least fill you up.  Also, refrain from drinking soda. It will dehydrate you and its no secret that its actually bad for you.

5. Avoid fast food like the plague. It often won’t fill you up – your body knows – and its that consistent dollar here and there that start to add up to that 100$+ a month spent on crappy food. Don’t be that person.

I can not strain this enough: Places like Dollar Tree and Dollar general are your friends as they will allow you to attain nuts for a cheap price providing your source of protein.   You could easily drop about 10$ and have enough nuts to hold you over for the week – assuming you throw some fruits and basic veggies into the mix.  Trader Joes is known to have one pound bags for about 2$.    Simply stop at a grocery store for the rest and you have your apples, pears, plums, bananas, and baby carrots for easily under 20$ that can last you the rest of the week.

One of the key ways to losing weight it so simply eat less – something that you can accomplish without starving yourself to death. You can reduce your overall appetite through carefully eating small meals – an apple here and some nuts there – over the course of the day.

Eat cheap and well my friends.

Terrifying Encounters: Asking the girl out.

This is a post of mine before I discovered the manosphere and the ideas of TRP.

The hardest situations in life for me are still the one’s that supposedly shouldn’t be hard; asking girls out. It’s daunting, terrifying, and downright makes leg shake and my voice wobble.   Every-time this happens, I continue to lose man-cards. I’ve already lost so many of said man-cards, that I’m certain I’ve ran out.

I of course blame this on improper upbringing, a lack of discipline, and a personality dominated by a will to avoid any situation that might become uncomfortable. In layman’s terms, I lack a pair.  They say that , “Where there is a will, there a way.”  Currently I lack most certainly lack the will, as well the way.

See the girl, talk to the girl, get the girl – right? Well, not exactly. Or more precisely, I have no idea how to go about getting said girl. Many thoughts of what to say, pickup lines to drop, and confident stares and eyebrow posturing have not landed me closer to alleviating my suffering. Pick-up lines you say? Sure, I’ve thought of a few lines of Shakespearean brilliance.

“Hey, there. Daddy’s home.”  …. Awkward silence. Possible imminent pain in the facial region of my jaw. Extremely irate boyfriend who suddenly appears from the shadows. Brutal humiliation and laughter.   Well, it could really be worth it if I got that on camera, but there must be a better way for the romantic in me.    (Yes, that line is from How I Met Your Mother.)

My immediate assertion of brilliance is that pickup lines don’t usually work and in a better and more compassionate reality they would never work. If they do, my first instinct is to run away because you know that it’s bad.  (Insert catchy jingle)

I recall one of my buddies being challenged to get a girl’s phone number in the mall.  Some sort of bet was made, we kept walking assuming none of us would talk to her, and we concluded she was another one lost to the perfect men – that meaning specifically me.

Suddenly my buddy comes back with her phone number. My first reaction  was similar to that of 13 year old nerdy boy with a shocked look and serious tone,  “Did anybody see how did he did it?” 

The mystery of how he did it has not been solved to this day, but initial clues, careful observation, and astute guess work leads me to conclude that he took the first and most important step – talking to her.  I’ve gotten past that step with plenty of girls, it’s just that I can’t pull the trigger and drop a simple, “We should hang out sometime.”

So what it is it that trips me up and stops me from asking a simple question like that?  Am I afraid of rejection? What makes it so uncomfortable for me? I suppose I’m not one to jeopardize friendships by asking friends of mine on a date. However, in a careful and accurate pyscho-analysis of myself, I realize that there is more to it.

What exactly is that?  To be vague, uncertain, but honest;  I’m not entirely sure. However, where there’s a will, there’s a way – or something like that. Eventually I will hone in on that part of my nature which keeps interfering with getting the girl and kick it in the arse! “British accent.” 

The Writer’s Block of Life.

They say you should always practice what you are good at. I’m good at writing, or at least I tell myself I am.  When it comes to the concept of practice and applying said practice to writing, I just don’t do it. Instead I content myself to do fabulous life fulfilling routines like working at Menards and Trinity.  You know you are going places when you are working part-time.

Let’s talk brass tax – pure honesty; I’m lazy.  I’m not lazy… when it comes to working, though I’m close to it.  Rather, I’m lazy when it comes to being a productive in any department.  That rare productivity that manifests itself in me consists of playing Star Wars: The Old Republic.  I’m actually kind of bad at that too and it’s because I’m too lazy to really learn the game, even though I’m investing alot of hours into it.   I do this instead of being responsible and going to sleeping and getting up early in the morning to catch the worm.  No, I catch that really late night insect with my owl eyes.  Responsibility? What’s that? Yep, age definitely doesn’t make one mature. (That’s me.)

So I’ve essentially turned into one of those “Do as I say, not what I do” sort of people. Especially when it comes to practicing something I tell myself I really like – writing.  Then there is of course some other tidbits that also applies to:

  • My tendency to not communicate well. That happens when you are lazy. It isn’t deliberate, but it is most certainly due to my lack of effort.
  • I’m a perfectionist. I didn’t even know I was. Apparently, I’m the kind that is too lazy to complete things if I ever start them because they must be perfect. Convenient excuse that is.
  • I’m content to do the same things, barely get them done, but not get any better at them a.k.a practice.
  • I keep telling myself I need to write every day. I keep finding other things to do instead of writing every day. I can’t hone my craft if I’m not willing to invest the time in it. Again I’m lazy. How many excuses can one man, I mean boy, have? Way too many and its even worse when I’m only really accountable to myself.  That just made me realize how low my standards are for myself. I can feel the self-esteem flowing through me.

Maybe, I really do have a lack of discipline. There are so many things, well at least a few, I could do if I bothered to invest the time and effort into them. Somehow I lack that motivation. It is as if I have writer’s block, but its my overall life.

So how do you overcome this kind of “writer’s block”? Beats me apparently, because I still can’t motivate myself enough even though I tell myself at work everyday, “Do something productive when you get home.”  I get home and I do nothing productive.

By the way, what I am doing right now instead of sleeping? Playing Star Wars and feeding my bad habits. Seriously, I lack discipline though Menards doesn’t lack my 9 AM arrival on its schedule.

My Life Motto: Live as if People Matter.

“Live as if people matter,” was one of platforms that  Thomas Chalmers urged his congregation and community to take into account for their lives.  Lately, I’ve been thinking about this statement almost every day. 

What I’ve realized is how hard it really is to attain and practice in my daily life. While selfishness may be a behavior and attitude that plagues our society at large, it certainly plagues me as well. 

I think about how I spend my time. Do I spend every waking second, “living as if people matter?”  No, not that much if I’m going to be honest with myself. In my free time, I hang out with friends, play online games, hit up Half-Times on Tuesday, and whatever else suits my fancy. 

Sure, I’m tired after work, but isn’t everyone else? I guess I can’t make that excuse. If I wanted to use my time productively, I would invest my time in other people’s lives.  Instead the temptation is to throw money their way and keep my time to myself, but that may be the pinnacle of my selfish nature.  Will I give the man a fish, or will I teach him how to fish? I can guess what takes more time.

One thing I’ve realized I can do is apply this motto, “Live as if people matter” to my time that is not free. When I’m at work this will be a tough, exhausting, and difficult attitude to maintain – specifically with my retail job – but I must persevere nonetheless. It may involve going out of my way, staying later, throwing up the 40 LB bags of birdseed, and even alot of other people’s job for them, but I must persevere in it regardless. 

Will I be a doormat to some degree? Perhaps. Will people know that the doormat is there to help them because it legitimately cares? Absolutely. I’ve certainly used Christ as a doormat and he’s forgiven me, so I must do the same.