Intentions

Sometimes we all dabble in self-loathing. Much to our chagrin we all do it. We all feel sorry for ourselves at some point or the other. Some more than others. I haven't quite figured out how or why we feel this way, especially when things aren't particularly bad.

Someone called me "tragically flawed" the other day. I know I'm flawed. We all are. Part of being human is to be flawed and to grapple with it. But to be called flawed to the point of tragedy? That seems a tad bit dramatic. I certainly have my share of flaws. Some awful and some minor and stupid. Being told you're not living up to your potential in so many words, hits home a bit.

After thinking about it, I don't think I'm tragically flawed. At the very least, I know for better or worse that my intentions are good. Most things I do come from a well meaning place even if I'm not in a good place. I keep a cool head in the midst of chaos. Arguments. Work. Stress. I rarely freak out. It's my one of my most bland signature traits. That has to count for something, right? Good people can make bad decisions as long as though bad decisions don't come to define you. It seems that everyone knows someone who falls into this category. Maybe an alcoholic or a drug addict, who is a good person but made a bad decision to be taken by those things. Being a good person isn't so black and white as being the most magnaminous person on earth. We all have our faults and vices. Some of those faults and vices consume us. Sometimes they are just isolated bad mistakes. Deep down, most of us are good people. Or so I tell myself. It would be impossible to make good decisions 100% of the time. Perhaps that's a good thing. Without a little antogonist, we can't grow. But for some people, a big mistake does define them. They fall behind and stay behind. Maybe it's just the luck of the draw on who gets to persevere and who doen't. Maybe some just want to overcome more than others. Maybe some are victims of social circumstance.

I don't have the answers. I only know that we are an inherently flawed species. Individually, some of us are more flawed than others. Globablly, we are a mess with glimpses of beauty and greatness. Imperfection isn't just a characteristic, it's a way life. We can't get rid of it. We can only hope to be less imperfect and strive to do the most good for the most people with the little time we have.