Of Hypocrisy

  For me...there might not have been a more impactful statement made to me in my life. Made with complete respect. No malice involved.
  I had explained it all, best that I could. I’m terrible with sharing feelings, so I babbled my way through it. Did my best, given the amount of scotch already coursing through my veins.
  He took it in and formulated his response. Thoughtful and well spoken. And then he ended with the following;
  “That’s not the Mark Youngblood I know.”
  Holy. Shit.
   If you know me very well you’ll know I despise hypocrisy. I knew that that’s exactly what I was doing. I think I even said I was aware of it. But then for him to say it out loud...for me to hear...now knowing others saw it, too...I could actually feel the sentence drift down and kick my soul. How can I preach that I hate it, teach my kids that it’s utterly gross, and then outright live it?? How dare I?!
  Commence shame spiral.
  I’ve felt bad enough for long enough. Shame spiral certainly didn’t feel great, but it probably needed to happen. If you’ve bottomed out...reached the absolute impenetrable floor...then you can only go up.
  Go. Fucking. Up.
  Quit wishing. Quit hoping. Quit waiting.
  Do it yourself.

A lifetime of thanks to Landry Griffith. Wise beyond your years.