the rub.

The rub.

The rub is inevitable, often maligned, bedfellow of an action. A phrase lost in a time much more interesting than this one, where words hadn't been stripped of their meaning. It the the siamese twin of doing, it goes where the action is like the press. Goes together with making a decision like ice and cream, cigarettes and booze, hookers and the point. An example:

Your two pitchers of Irish Red, and a few Jameson and Ginger's into a relaxed evening with your homeboys. There is a break in the conversation, and out the corner of your eye you see what can only be defined as the reason God gave you sight: a beautiful woman. She walks like she wouldn't leave a footprint on the ground, and smells like hapiness. Her backside is blessed for sure, and she has The Look. The Look that if you make eye contact, time slows down like bullet-time and you freeze up, if only for an instant, because honestly, you have no idea what to do.

But here's the rub: she's got the meanest, stone cold bump on the side of her mouth. Could be a pimple. Just maybe. Could you be you running on the beach, singing "Just One More Day" popping those Valtrex pills, trying to time your flare-up's to coincide with football season.
The rub is the ultimate equalizer. It prevents people from doing whatever their twisted minds desire because there is a consequence to your action. It's as inevitable as eating too much, but as necessiary as the cool side of the pillow.

You can't duck the rub.

But we try all of the time. To live lives without consequence for the actions we undertake. We have gotten swept up in the malestrom of damn liberalism. We want casual sex without babies, man and woman whoredom and disease. We want to smoke without cancer. We want to live, and do whatever we want, and whatever feels good without any judgement from anyone. Because that judgement forces us to live a life with responsibility, that forces our hands to do things that are hard, taxing, yet essential.

The actions we make change us forever. Yep, it's that deep. For the better, or worse, we're changed. The actions we take define the people we are. Yep, it's that serious. Deal with a person knowing we shouldn't deal with, go to that place we know we shouldn't, take that pill, drink that drink, listen to that song, and we're different than we were before. Maybe we've gotten better. But most times, doing the things we know we shouldn't makes us worse. And don't cry now when shit gets thick and the world looks bleak. It's the life we chose. Now it's time man up and get better, or give up and get worse.

Consequences, responsibility and judgement is the natural system of checks and balance that should keep us ever moving towards the goal of being better than we were the day before. To being the best we can possibly be. To be the we that God intended for us to be. So everyone around us can do the same. But here's the rub:

Things will get better.

a self quote.

I wonder alot about why everyone is so miserable. Why the masses of the population just cannot seem to get it right. Why day after day, the majority of the conversation that surrounds me is mired in the quagmire of mediocrity, dissapointment, frustration, disenchantment, anger, sadness and overal malaise.

Everyday we are pushed to strive after, to achieve things that do not really matter when it comes to our overall happiness. Cars, clothes, degrees, jobs, entertainment among others have been made paramount in the lives that we are told to lead. We sacrifice a piece of ourselves in order to have them. Children are neglected, families in essence deserted, marriages relegated to a schedule to make accomodations for these things. And none of it in the least makes the slightest bit of sense.

We have seen enough movies, tabloids and personal experiences to tell us all what should be painfully obivious to us all. None of it makes you happy. Not by itself. Not without the most important piece of the puzzle. Love. This is not regulated to an intimate love between lovers, or the love shared between a parent and child. This is love in all its forms and incarnations, all incompassing in its scope. A sacrificial love. An unselfish love. A patient and kind love. A 1 Corinthians 13 love.

People focus so much on preparing the perfect side dish that they neglect the main course. The best mashed potatoes in the world will never make up for a horrible, shoe-leather steak. Never. The best car in the world will never make up for the lack of love in a person's life. Never. We work to take care of a family, but in the process neglect the family. We work to provide for a child, but the most important provision they need is you. We work to provide our significant others with the best, forgetting that when you were happiest together with all you had was each other, together.

I know its hard in the midst of bills, worry, stress, hatred, job frustration, life disspointment, smoking, having to be pretty and smart, the pressure to be thin, the pressure to be anything than what God made you, painful relationships, gas prices, pain, Darfur, the media, negative images, the quest for money to see the importance of love. In fact to see it period. All around you, the world is showing you its there, teaching you the importance. But, you have to pay attention to learn. That, in turn, means doing something difficult and hard, but all things difficult and hard are usually necessisary. You have to step outside of yourself, your own myopic mind and vision, away from your problems and your mistakes and just take a look around, and see the world away from yourself. Because your ruining it. See it for what it is, and not what you think it should be, or wish it was, or how it would be if you were doing it, and how it applies to your supposedly shitty exisistence.

I saw two men get on the bus, stumbling towards the back. Clearly intoxicated, and clearly not giving a damn. One sat down on the back bench beside me, the other on a seat on the side of the bus, near the back bench. My man sitting next to me must have had the brunt of the pint, because he was laid out like a rug, sprawled out like he was the shining example of how to make a snow angel. He was in and out of conciousness, but in those moments he was with us, he knew one thing: he was not comfortable. He took one of his legs and propped it up on his homeboy's knee. His homeboy took his legs, pulled it further on his lap, smiled, and let the breeze through the window take him away.

Love.

"You can learn something from anything, if you pay attention."