One Hundred Days...50 Days In

One Hundred Days…50 Days In Half-full? Half-empty? Are you an optimist or a pessimist? I like to think I’m a little bit of both but for the last week I’ve definitely been on the half-empty side of things. Maybe it’s the current political climate that our great country has found itself in where “Black Lives Matter” and “Blue Lives Matter” and “Muslims Don’t Matter” dominate the nightly news. One report I saw had a protestor with a sign that read “No Lives Matter” and with the random killings that occur not only in the United States but in France and Turkey it makes you stop and ask yourself: Does my life matter? I’d like to think that it does. The next question you might ask yourself is What can I do to change things? Can I make a donation of money, time or blood? Can I wave a sign in a protest march? Can I post my political views on Twitter? What about Facebook? Facebook has become more than just a way to keep up with old friends and their crummy vacations. It’s become the go-to choice for many of those old friends to rant about this politician or that politician, but I wonder if all of that effort does anything more than confirm to your non-aligned friends that you really are as crazy as they remember. How could you possibly support that person? But now the half-full side of me is going to present this statement for you to think about: Isn’t that what makes our country great? Hasn’t America always been a melting pot of ideas and cultures where everyone has the ability to contribute something and express themselves? In the America that I live in that’s been the case, but some would make you think that America isn’t great. What’s incredible about being a melting pot of ideas is that most of us are contributing whether you know it or not? Every time you show kindness or offer assistance to someone you are a contributor in the larger scheme of things. An example: Holding the door open for someone. A simple process, yes, but let’s open the scenario a bit wider. You're a Democrat. They’re a Republican. They’re Christian. You’re Muslim. They’re a Redneck. You’re from the Upper East Side. I can’t speak to every occasion because no one can but if someone is struggling to open a door because their hands are full with groceries or trying to get a walker or wheelchair through isn’t it your first response if you’re able and close enough to give a helping hand? I’m right, aren’t I? You would help, wouldn’t you? And your first instinct wouldn't be to ask what their political affiliation was either. Of course, there is always someone out there that wouldn’t open the door for their own parent, spouse or child. The hatred is planted so deep that the roots are cemented to their very soul and those people are the ones that hide behind the anonymous label on social media. Their mantra is “I can say or do whatever I want to and you’ll never know it was me.” But I wonder if perhaps they have already been caught—by their own conscience. Do the haters ever give pause before they hit the send button? Are they ever kept awake by a comment they posted on Twitter or ashamed of a shared post on Facebook that served no purpose than to cause harm to someone else? I’d like to think so because I am an optimist and I try to see the bright side of things. As we continue on in this election season and beyond if there is anything you take away from this essay it’s this: America is a great country, so do what you can to help out and if you ever find your hands full, just look for me or anyone else, we’ll go out of our way to hold the door open for you. It’s America. That’s what we do. Lastly, this past week has been the toughest in my writing journey thus far. I haven't wanted to write anything, especially in the books I'm working on because I'm describing something that doesn't exist. It is a fantasy novel and I'm making it up as I go along. And when I get too involved and wrapped up with what's happening on my social media pages my imagination likes to take a sick day or even worse: a two-week vacation so when I do sit down at the computer I spend the first 15 minutes typing my name so I'll remember who I am and what I'm trying to accomplish before I can actually begin to write. It's working too, because I've learned to turn off the social media and I've added 50,000 words to my various projects and there are only 50 days to go. Or maybe I should say I've completed 50 days and I'm halfway there. In this case, both works! One hundred thousand words in one hundred days is how I am spending my summer. There's still time to join in on the fun. Keep writing.