Throwback Thursday: The 2015 Fuck It List: #8 - Being A Teaching Hospital
Back in 2014, I posted my 2014 Fuck It List based on and inspired by this most excellent post:
Welcome to my Fuck It list. Fourteen things I’m going to stop giving a fuck about in 2014. Because, as important as it is to push yourself to be a healthier, more compassionate person, that can be downright impossible. Refusing to give a fuck, however, isn’t just easy — it’s kind of awesome.
So fuck it. Here are the fourteen things I’m going to stop worrying about come 2014.
This year, I’ve made a list of 15 Things I Refuse To Give a Fuck About In 2015 (capitalized, because it’s IMPORTANT). But instead of trying to write and post a huge massive manifesto all at once, I decided to instead break my list down into bite-sized pieces.
15 Fucks I Refuse To Give In 2015: #8 - Being a Teaching Hospital
There’s a spiritual principle pertaining to reincarnation that sets forth the belief that we are in this particular plane to both gain and offer experiences to other souls. To further our soul’s perfection by learning how to navigate through and triumph over negativity.
I fucking love this premise. It adds a layer of gold to every interaction…you are not just my barista! You and I are two souls who have chosen this particular time and space to further the perfection of our souls! What can we learn from each other during this 5 minute interaction? Let’s find out!
At a particular point in my life, though, I maaay have taken this premise a bit too far. I was kind of like Hannah Horvath and her quest to seek out debasing sexual encounters in order to enhance her writing: Are you a hot guy who’s maybe not operating at the lowest function of your potential, but gosh, you sure could use a motivating force in your life to get a job / stop doing coke / quit being an asshole at parties? GREAT! Allow me to lend you my time and energy in exchange for the feeling that I might actually be able to affect change in someone who has no desire to root down!
But somewhere along the way this past year, I learned that my life does not have to be a teaching hospital in Seattle, where fresh-faced residents get to work out their painful personal histories and navigate the tricky road of angsty romantic relationships while I’m trying to perform a goddamn surgery on yet another patient who was caught up in a catastrophic natural disaster on their way to the Fisherman’s Market.
In other words: If you’re gonna step to this? Ya better come correct.
There’s a difference between:
1. Teaching people how to treat you by the way you carry yourself + react to their bullshit.
2. Taking time out of your precious, wondrous life to actually teach people how to be a good friend or a caring boyfriend or not-totally-insane boss.
The first one is on you – fucking love yourself already, and those worthy will fall in line – and the other one…well, that’s also on you. At a certain point, you have to make peace with the fact that some people are just assholes. If someone has come this far in life and has willingly learned so little about how to treat others, I do not reward them with a residency in my heart. Bingo bango: Don’t gotta change nobody. It is not the work of my soul to convince someone to care more about how they treat me.
And it’s not yours, either.
So let’s leave the heroic martyrdom to the fake heroines of angsty TV melodramas. It always looks much better on Meredith Grey, anyway.
Mostly because she’s not real.
*whispers* Except within our hearts...