"To be governed": by Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

"To be governed is to be watched, inspected, spied upon, directed, law-driven, numbered, regulated, enrolled, indoctrinated, preached at, controlled, checked, estimated, valued, censured, commanded, by creatures who have neither the right nor the wisdom nor the virtue to do so. 

To be governed is to be at every operation, at every transaction noted, registered, counted, taxed, stamped, measured, numbered, assessed, licensed, authorized, admonished, prevented, forbidden, reformed, corrected, punished. 

It is, under pretext of public utility, and in the name of the general interest, to be placed under contribution, drilled, fleeced, exploited, monopolized, extorted from, squeezed, hoaxed, robbed; then, at the slightest resistance, the first word of complaint, to be repressed, fined, vilified, harassed, hunted down, abused, clubbed, disarmed, bound, choked, imprisoned, judged, condemned, shot, deported, sacrificed, sold, betrayed; and to crown all, mocked, ridiculed, derided, outraged, dishonored. 

That is government; that is its justice; that is its morality."   Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

Reflections on my Dad: Don't take life too seriously

My dad recently passed away. And it’s only now that I’m finally learning the lessons from his life. Whether he or I knew it at the time, my dad was teaching me life lessons.

I am up to the third life lesson. The first two were, 'actions speak louder than words and the importance of self sacrifice.'

 Life lesson # 3 is: don’t take life too seriously:

I learned from my Dad not to take life too seriously: My dad was born in Brooklyn, New York, during the great depression; a time of devastating poverty, joblessness and outright destitution.

Rising out of this human calamity, was a belief that worldly possessions are fleeting, and life is indifferent to ones survival. 

It was from this background, that the conviction ‘not to take life too seriously,’ became embedded into the culture of that day. Why? Because you never knew when life as you knew it, would come crashing down.

My dad’s attitude towards life reflected author Fredrick Buechner’s admonition: “here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.”

As a boy, I saw my dad as physically strong presence. And to witness his decline, reminded me how fragile life is. Yet my dad’s determination and attitude towards his ‘life circumstance,’ kept him from despair.       

During the last few years, I observed the slow deterioration of my dad’s health until he became wheelchair bound. I asked him ‘do you ever miss doing things you used to do?” And he said to me, “I don’t worry about that son, there are people in this world worse off than me.”

In the months leading up to his passing, he was hospitalized with severe pneumonia and he could barely catch a breath to speak to the Emergency intake nurse who asked him to rate his health on a scale of 1 to 10: 1 being poor and 10 being good; he told her it’s a 9, ‘my health is ‘good.’

We all thought dad was in denial, but he was very much aware of his condition, he would not allow sickness and pending death to dictate his attitude towards ‘the cards’ life had dealt him.  

He was living out of the principle 'don’t take life too seriously;' in spite of what life had handed him, he left this earth on his own terms.

Reflections on my Dad: The importance of self sacrifice

My dad recently passed away. And it’s only now that I’m finally learning the lessons from his life; much of which were on the subconscious level. Whether he or I knew it at the time, my dad was teaching me life lessons.

I’m highlighting these lessons in my next few blog posts (this is Life lesson #2).

The second lesson I learned is the importance of self sacrifice:

  

I learned from Dad what “self sacrifice” was:  simply put, self sacrifice means ‘to put others needs before your s.’

Much of what shaped my dad’s character came from his generation, his family’s influence and his Catholic upbringing, and ‘self sacrifice was a core value of his generation and his parents generation.  

It’s not that my dad was a Mother Theresa, far from it, but he truly believed that a husband and father should put his wife and families’ needs before his.   

The words “me or mine” seldom passed through my dad’s lips. He worked very hard and very long hours as an auto mechanic, with grease and gas up to his elbows, all day long.

He rarely missed work, but when vacation time came around, we would spend the entire vacation on a family road trip to Arizona or across the country to visit relatives back east.  His vacation was our vacation; he loved to spend his days away from work with the family.

My dad loved to bowl and he was pretty good at it. He was on several bowling leagues before we kids came along. When I was born, he stop going out every night and joined a bowling team that did not impact his time with Mom and his boy’s.

 ‘Self sacrifice’ seems so archaic in today’s ‘self absorbed’ culture. But it is a lesson that I both struggle with, and desire to make it my own ‘life value.’  

Reflections on my Dad: Actions speak louder than words

One week has passed since God has called my Dad home. And I’m sitting here at my favorite bagel place, surveying my dads’ life through pictures him and my mom, when they were young, poor and free.  

My Dad was not from the “let it all hang out” generation, so saying a few things about him would most likely embarrass him.

But it is only now, that I am finally learning the lessons from his life; much of which were on the subconscious level. Whether he or I knew it at the time, my dad was teaching me life lessons.

I want to highlight a few in the next few blog posts.

The first one is actions speak louder than words:

I learned from my dad that actions speak louder than words: My dad came from a generation where one is measured by what they do. And if your actions matched your words, you could be trusted.

He didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeves and was impatient with ‘too much drama.’ I’m certain he went through stress and anxiety, and had many a sleepless night, but he didn’t let us in on it. 

My dad pretty much kept his worries and concerns inside. We rarely got a glimpse into his emotional state when we were going through hard times. Some may say he bottled it up inside. But this was a time when there wasn’t a lot of psychoanalysis going on.  

My dad came from a generation where men were to put their ‘hands to the plow’ and be providers for their families; pillars of strength in times of storms. 

He believed you work hard, never ask for any handouts and be responsible for your actions; period!

“Don’t blame your misfortunes on anyone or complain about your lot in life, just work hard and get on with It.” my dad would say. He wanted our actions to speak for itself, without a lot of grandstanding or fuss.