Perspectives... skewed? or skewered??

Did you ever meet someone who, no matter what he said, did or thought, his viewpoint was THE ONLY valid perspective? I once married a man like that... man was that fun. I was always wrong.

You may disagree, but I have to say.... OH NO! I was wrong. I really was. Still am. Wrong. Always. About everything. I have not one true or valid thought in my little dented head!

Even before that, though, peoples' perspectives always fascinated me. We all have our own personal, and very important, internal dialogue going on every second of every day. It's really not surprising that we come at life from such varying places on the spectrum of thought. Let's face it. We each are truly the center of our own little personal universes.

For example, and I have to call myself out on this one... I have a ridiculous case of road rage. Almost every single time I get behind the wheel of my "little blue jeep," I NEED anyone who is in front of me to understand the absolute importance of my time and let me by! Slow drivers drive me freakin' bananas. Drivers who don't pay attention to what's going on around them drive me CRAZY! Mostly because they obviously don't see that I'm ridin' their ass (hard) because I NEED to get by so I can be on my way and out from behind their slow-driving, road-hogging, idiot, minivan driving selves! (whew. I'm glad I got all that off my chest. And imagine... I'm not even driving right now!)

But that just goes to show you... I have a tiny space I occupy, but to me it's the most important space in the world. Happily, driving is one of the few things that turns me from little and fiesty to an absolutely ballistic personality!

Truthfully, though, I do try to put myself in other people's shoes purposely so that I can be a generally understanding and accepting soul. (ALWAYS remember this is NEVER true when I'm behind the wheel!) No, my parents weren't hippies, but they are both very accepting people.

My mom is accepting, I think, because of the environment she grew up in, which was very nontraditional in the ultra-traditional 1950's. She was always a little different and it made her gravitate toward those who were also. She became comfortable there and hence comfortable understanding and embracing the unusual. Besides, if you look up the definition of compassion (which is a major ingredient of acceptance) in the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, you will find a full-color glossy picture of my mom.

My dad is a little more difficult to understand, but in a nutshell, he is a scientist. Scientifically, for one entity to exist it must be true that it's equal and opposite must exist too. Yes, we're talking the old bell curve theory, which, if we're talking science, is really my favorite theory!

But back to my point: while my dad mostly exists somewhere in the middle of the bell curve, he understands that there are the "weirdos" who belong on the polar opposite ends of that same curve. I know "weirdo" is not overly politically corrrect, but I had to pick between that and "retard", which is my dad's other favorite descriptor for the "outliers." Anyway, dad thinks it's dumb to fight against the inevitable, so he just goes about his business, while accepting all the weirdos and retards of the world.

I am, actually, a pretty good conglomeration of my mom and dad and, therefore, I'm also generally accepting of differing ideas and perspectives and ways of being. I'm laid back and nonjudgmental with people, for the most part, because I like to be myself without worrying what someone else thinks about me. I try to do the same for other people too.

I do have a confession to make, though. Recently, I've come into contact with some characters who've deeply tested my acceptance of such a wide variety of perspectives:

• The first was a patient of mine who came in to the ER because he woke up in EXCRUTIATING pain. This schmo rolled over in his sleep the wrong way and got a friggin crick in his neck. He also believed this "health problem" of his was severe enough to warrant emergency services. Now. Before you go thinking I'm a heartless bitch, let me explain. I recently had the same problem myself and, so, I know that YES it's miserable. However, I did not go to the emergency room to be fixed. NOR did I proceed to complain LOUDLY when I had to wait to be treated while my nurse and doctor treated 3 chest pain patients first. Oh yes he did! It was all I could do, as his nurse, to refrain from telling him to suck it up and quit being such a pussy!
• Then there was the man who came in short of breath, oh and also in pain, because he'd missed his dialysis. Not once, but twice. Of course, he needed dialysis IMMEDIATELY, plus because his pain was also excrutiating (I'm pretty sure he rated it "f**king 20 on a scale of 1 to 10") he needed some dilaudid. And let's not forget that although he reached our ER around 3 p.m. he hadn't "f**kin' eaten anything all day" and called the hospital restaurant (mmm, that would be the dietary dept.) and ordered himself up a burger! Really. Yes. This honestly happened.
• The patient who actually got me to thinking about perspectives was a lady patient who came in talking about Jesus and how he and her husband had devised a very intricate plan to kill her. Now that, dear friends, is a perspective that I have much compassion for, but of which I thankfully have NO real understanding. Poor thing was just beyond, beyond and way beyond any reality you or I could or would ever want to understand.
• Finally, lest you believe that I only come into contact with "unusual" perspectives at work, here's one we can all relate to: How could Michael Jackson believe he still looked HUMAN, let alone like a brotha, strong black man, african american dude (however you choose to refer to brown-skinned men) for the last 10 or so years of his life? His nose was literally falling off his face. Talk about skewered perspectives... he could have used a skewer to pin his nose back on :)

Those examples aren't exactly a ringing endorsement for my open-mindedness, huh?

At least I never claimed to be perfect. I used to say I'm "practically perfect in every way" like Mary Poppins. I never got that flying with an umbrella trick down, but I have learned to be a little less obnoxious, so I don't make that claim any more.

Although I know it's not very Zen-like to try to be more accepting, because I should just be accepting, I will take this stance: I am a work in progress. I do my best. I know what's important to me in my own little self-important universe. I know I don't always live up to my goals. But I figure falling short helps me be more accepting of everyeone else's retarded, less-than-perfect perspectives.

Post Script: If you are wondering (1) why I have a dented head, (2) why I would publish that information in a blog, and last but certainly not least unusually (3) why I have a favorite scientific theory... you may want to stay tuned. I'll likely go into all that at some point in the very near future.

Post Post Script: On a MJ related note, I am lobbying the LEGO's corporation to produce and distribute for sale black and white only "Special Edition Michael Jackson" Legos. Color-change technology for the black pieces is one of the negotiating points I'm still working on, but we've all agreed that the set will be sold in glitter glove-shaped bags. I think it's a fitting tribute...