Is Ranting a Skill or a Delusion?


Thanks to Wikipedia
The Fool tarot card
Who could have known the number of people working tirelessly to keep him from going over the cliff?

Is one person’s favorite ranter another person’s energy vampire? Is one person’s hilarious kvetch in life another person’s reason to fall further down the black hole of depression?

Tonight’s dream was about a crusty complainer erratically weaving through life like an out-of-control snow blower. Near the end of the dream, she vanquishes her opponent. From her perspective, it’s simply a matter of fortitude, perseverance, and dumb luck.

Then the dream looks at the issue from a different perspective: Behind the scenes.

There seemed to be dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people communicating with each other about where she was at any given second. They formed barriers, rerouting her opponent. They took the punches so she didn’t have to. They were an organized go-to crew who wore down the opponent and maneuvered her opponent to just the right place at the right time, making it easy for the opponent to be vanquished.

At the very end of the dream, she beamed about her victory, walking away as if the carnage around her didn’t exist. Meanwhile, those in the background who worked tirelessly to help her win her battle treated their wounded.

Are there people laid to waste as I plow through life like a hungry piranha in search of an unsuspecting cow? Are their people who form barriers between me and certain failure, and people who take the punches so I don’t have to in spite of my obtuse piranha persona?

I think about my sister, children, friends, colleagues and acquaintances who were there for me through the bumps along the road of life. People who asked nothing in return, who patiently explained simple concepts to me repeatedly until I “got it,” never complaining when I thought it was because I was so smart and gave no credit to them.

I think about the people who pushed me forward toward my cherished goals as I kicked, screamed, and vehemently protested–people who, exhausted by the effort, listened as I bragged to others about how my determination has dragged my anxieties through life kicking and screaming.

I think about the people who were there at every critical turn, when the mountain of crises they faced made mine look like pebbles along the road of life in comparison. But I didn’t know how to be there for them.

Dreams can be a gateway to enlightenment.  Enlightenment is rarely an easy gift to accept. And once accepted, is rarely given the care and consideration it deserves.

The least I can do is to give thanks to those who went above and beyond, hoping that one day I can help others as greatly as others have helped me.