I developed the theory of reality bubbles after taking my 15 year old daughter to see Pulp Fiction. Pretty heavy stuff, and hilariously funny. (Yes, I knew she was young, but she was also going to see it whether I took her or not, and I thought more better to be with common-sense parent than not, right?) These people just lived a wholly different set of values than I do. And it occurred to me that the same thing is true with EVERYONE. We all have our quirks, little ways of shaving integrity to suit our egos. Mine do not extend to killing anyone, and not even to character assassination, a previous passtime which bit the bullet in my recovery. But I am not immune to gossip, though I may label it as a heads-up, necessary to keep dear ones from falling into another person's black hole, as I did. I took political science in college, and let me tell you, politicians live in an alternate universe of power and entitlement heretofor unheard of by the likes of little old me. And even though I know this stuff, I am always surprised at what my fellow humans do out there in the Big Bad World. I know it is all scripted to make them feel not even good, but at least okay in their reality bubble. And it is not bad so much as sad. Compassion is the key here. It's all about FEAR, people. Self-centered FEAR. My motto for the day: It is better to be kind than it is to be right. My way may not be your way, but it is not right just because it is mine. And your way is showing you who you are. And you could, if you wanted to, change. Yes, you could. Would you, please?
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