The Path of the righteous

There is a big problem that I have and that is my righteousness, my internal feeling that I am always right and that nothing should appear to challenge my preconceived ways of seeing.

Do I take this on board, well yes, I say righteously, I do, why would I write this if I where not challenging myself on the way I think.

The problem with my righteous world is that everyone else sees differently, you ask a thousand people the correct way to do something and they will give a thousand different solutions and that can be so damn annoying.

So I accept and am fully aware of this righteousness, I pain, go into spasms of anxiety over it, I really do.

Getting older is definitely a contributing factor. One see's everything different as one gets older, experiences of life tell one about this situation and that situation and a mindset becomes firmly embedded in the consciousness. And as we know many of the mindsets that exist in everyday life are not good. So I am aware of this, my experience is not the experience of others.

Lots of personal experiences that are to crazy too mention, well not really, they are just personal and my own business, also contribute.

So after criticising my own path of righteousness and fully accepting that this can be a problem I eagerly and I mean with a delicious eagerness, launch my attack on the state of things as I see it and the absolute nonsense that appears to exist out there, it's incredible disconnections.

The society that I know and live in everyday is stuck in a rut, has lost its vision, if it ever had one.

So after revealing my righteousness and putting myself at a disadvantage from other righteous people who will now attack me with a vengeance

I have to quote a famous song from the 1960's written by Malvina Reynolds

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All go to the university,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
And there's doctors and there's lawyers
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf-course,
And drink their Martini dry,
And they all have pretty children,
And the children go to school.
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
And they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same.

And the boys go into business,
And marry, and raise a family,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.