It will not shock you to learn that there are people in my life that I simply don’t like and I am certain that their feelings about me are most likely very mutual.  I don’t engage people in gossip anymore.  I learned that lesson a few years ago, and the scar still hasn’t healed.  When I want peace, I simply cut people man out of my life. 

I don’t troll their Facebook page, or Instagram account, for example.  I disengage myself from all forms of gossip, and do everything I can to focus on my dreams, and the many things I need to get done, instead of the things that ultimately bear no fruit.

Occasionally though, when I least expect it, and I’m minding my own business, something always comes up that tests my resolve.

A few days ago, I saw a post from a woman that I had been absent from my life for quite some time.  To clarify, so that you don’t get the wrong impression, this was a colleague, and although romance implied, I did not reciprocate the advancement.  I’m being as diplomatic as I can because there is a story here, but it would ultimately distract you from the thesis presented here today.  Perhaps, over a pint or two, I might be enticed to divulge some more information on the matter, if you are so inclined.

It happens that this woman is doing something creative in the next few months, and the post was simply an attempt to promote the event.

I didn’t hesitate.  Instinctively, I screen captured the post and was about to send it to a friend of mine for some cheap laughs.  I thought of him because he absolutely hates her. 

A part of me wanted to send the screen capture because it would generate an few cheap laughs.  I could sit here and justify that some of it might even be well deserved.

However, before I will not do so because before sending, I knew it was wrong, so I deleted the text message, and I erased the screen capture.

I imagined what this would accomplish and where it would lead me.  Nowhere and not much.  As a matter of fact, it would hurt me by pulling me back to a place I don’t want to live in anymore.

I love humour.  I love a good dirty curse word.  I love satire, irony, and on special occasions, even a little bit of sarcasm.

I can’t lie to you that this would not have been very satisfying.  Nourishing to engage in a blissful exchange of seemingly innocent fun.  No one would get hurt.  Except, the exchange would not be innocent. 

Tearing people down, especially behind their back, even if they never find out about it, is just such a shitty thing to do.  I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I did, because the few minutes of cheap laughs would have very quickly sullied the person who I am trying to become. 

Hypocrisy is a deadly vice.  Something we don’t talk about anymore.  It seems we are never wrong, we are simply misunderstood.  We tend to justify and believe we are right when we put people down, but we don’t often think about the larger, both philosophical and spiritual consequences.

I’m growing up.

You are what you eat.  You become the words you speak.  You may run and hide.  Dress yourself up a little, but eventually the truth always lights up the gutter.

It took some forty-four years to get here, but I can finally say that I’m growing up.

One small step for man, a giant leap towards endless possibilities.