David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

psychology

Of all the world’s contradictions, our own actions confuse us most

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I like to think that I’m boldly in charge of my own life — but I often watch what I’ve done and wonder how in the world I did the opposite of what I said I wanted.

Am I crazy? Or am I human?

Almost two years ago, I got myself into a situation which made me very unhappy. I told myself it was only temporary and I even set a deadline — six months — by which I was going to change things.

In private, I ranted endlessly to someone I trusted about how unhappy I was and why things had to change.

But the six-month deadline came and went with no change. Almost 18 more months later, I still haven’t changed it. I honestly can’t tell you why. My conscious brain would tell you that I simply haven’t found the right alternative, but the more honest part of me would admit I haven’t tried — and that’s the part I find most confusing.

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If you can’t change your life story, that narrative will become destiny

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The woman seemed tired, but that wasn’t surprising. It was after midnight and she was at work as a cashier at Walmart. There weren’t many people in the store. It was mostly employees stocking shelves and there were a very few late-night shoppers like me.

When I spoke to her, she didn’t look at me at first. She just responded briefly and went about her work of checking me out. It quickly occurred to me that maybe she wasn’t tired — at least not physically. Maybe she just didn’t care anymore.

She was about 45. She seemed to have forgotten how to smile. She did seem tired, but as I watched her, I thought it seemed more as though she was tired of life. Since there was nobody behind me, I tried to find out her story. It was quickly obvious that she didn’t mind talking. She simply didn’t care about much anymore.

She’s from a tiny town in southern Ohio that I’d never heard of. She said it was near Kentucky and she’s never lived anywhere else. She’s in this area briefly. The youngest of her three daughters ran off with a man and he abandoned her in Birmingham after she got pregnant.

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Once you taste what is possible, you can’t accept being ‘normal’

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As far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be great. But as soon as I was old enough to understand ego and humility, I felt guilty for wanting to be great.

I was 5 years old when it first consciously occurred to me that I might be important. I’m embarrassed to tell things such as this — because it can sound like childish immaturity — but there was more than that to what it felt like.

I was outside of our home on Holly Hill Drive in Atlanta. I was studying the foundation of the house and trying to figure out how the house was built. Suddenly, it occurred to me out of the blue that there were five people in my family and that I was now 5 years old. Somewhere in my immature little brain, this seemed important.

This coincidence made me feel important. And for the first time in my conscious memory, I was struck by the feeling that I had a responsibility — not to myself and my ego, but to others — to do something meaningful. I had an intense desire to do something important — to be someone important — and to somehow give my life great meaning for the world.

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