It's Just My Way

It’s Just My Way

By Joel Elveson

It’s just my way you see. This is the way I do things. This is how I have always done things. This is how I will probably always do things. This way makes sense for me. This way works for me. No, it isn’t your way. It might not ever be your way but that is okay. You way is your way as that way makes sense to you. It is the way that works best for you. So whose way is better? Neither way is best. We are all individuals whose upbringing and life experiences have created a system that works best for us as the singular person.

What does doing things my way and only my way accomplish? It gives me the satisfaction I have gotten things done that had to get done but in the way, I created for myself but certainly with the aid of various influences in my life. I am me and that is who I am. Not you, not her, not him, not them, but me and me alone. If you came to work for me you did things in the manner I trained you to do them without deviating from that way. That way was my way. If you wanted to do things in a different way you were free to go another way but you will not go that way with me in tow.

I do not consider my self to be self-serving or self-centered as I care about people not to mention animals of almost any species. The last couple of weeks I have spent time down by the bay where I have become fascinated by flocks of seagulls. The heights that they soar to and the grace that they do so. Seagulls fly with their flock but will go off on their own in a direction they choose. They have no need nor use for ducks, pigeons or starlings. The pounding waves on the rocks match strength against strength. This is the only way this can be. You can conclude from the above I have no ill-conceived notions the world revolves around me or that I am all that matters in this world. It’s my way to believe it is a life that matters most. Life is sacred and precious while the methods of the methodology are not.

Certainly, I do not consider myself to be a genius or anything even close. If I had to count the mistakes I made in my life by virtue of my sometimes foolhardy insistence of doing things my way only the count would go on almost forever. By the same token, I have succeeded when I had no monocle of a chance to do so. Walking down paths alone is not poetic harmony. Being alone brings chewed heart sleeves that may not be repairable. Could my way push you away? Yes, it could very well do so. Is that my desired outcome? By no means is it that. In the best of scenarios, we meet in the middle clinch as we develop malleability we both can live with. I do what I do and you do what you do but we find a commonality that two people in friendship or love can share. We both win and lose at the same time together.

Away, I’d rather sail away like a swan that’s here and gone. A man gets tied up to the ground he gives the world its saddest sound. Its saddest sound.

– El Condor Pasa (If I Could) Simon & Garfunkel.

What I give as my opinions (if or when I give them) are based on my way of thinking that others may or may not care to share. My way is to think about what I thought and change it if a change is necessary for one reason or another. My way is to seek good counsel from those I trust. Those who are in the know will know what I need to know and subsequently teach it to me. The way my way exists makes it critical to know what I need to know while carving out space for what I do not need to know but want to know anyway. My way is to be in need of knowing the world around me.

I have no far fetched fantasy’s that other worlds or planetary systems revolve around me while nothing else or nobody else matters. Methodology is a system of methods used in a particular area of study or activity. My methodology or yours in the greater scheme of things is not of crucial importance. At the end of another day, life is all that matters. Caring for and about one another, as well as our planet that we dwell upon while putting the idea of self on the sideline, is what we are supposed to do. Our species must continually reproduce itself to bring new life to old life while creating something better.

It is, however, also my way to be philosophical in addition to being analytical. To discover why something happened or the meaning behind it or even life itself. There is an obligation to reach beyond what the eye is reflecting on my brain. The initial upside-down image on the retina is a signal to turn things right-side up so I can clearly see what is actually meant to be seen. It is just my way to dictate to myself clear expectations I have of me while ascribing to live under a strict moral code.

Some have come to notice my thinking is not always conventional or practical. It was my father (of blessed memory) who infused me with his thought processes. A new hospital cried out for a new Medical Library. My father planned it to be a significant resource for doctors. The catch was the library had to be built his way according to his plan. Having been a Medical Librarian for the greatest part of his life he instinctively knew what had to be done and how it had to be done. This was a man who repelled his ego. He himself never wanted anything for himself that was not for the greater good of all. This man lost his job at the United Nations as he was deemed to be a Communist. He was given that dubious distinction for his unyielding fight for Civil Rights. A white man in the NAACP (National Association For The Advancement Of Colored People) was according to the misguided followers of Senator Joseph McCarthy they determined he was an undeniable threat but It was his way to fight for right. Being a dedicated Joan Baez fan (I now own and treasure those records) set in stone the decision to get him out of there before he imported all of his communist friends that he did not have.

Moving into young adulthood I acquiesced to accept the predominant thinking of the insurance industry. Each industry I worked in had its own way of thinking that had to be absorbed. Their way quickly became my way even though something that was planted in me was growing and needed to come out. What came out was my words, thoughts, feelings, and emotions. I write in my own way while staring admirably at works of others but keeping my outlined format in place.

Have no fear or cast any doubts as it is just my way and my way alone. There are no dimly lit yellowish street lights whose glow contradicts the validity of my way that prods me to consider an alternative. The alternative to my way is to live according to somebody else’s plan. It’s just I feel my way is okay as long as everything with it is as it should be. Whose way should take me if it is not my way?

It is just my way that will run, lose or win the race for the sacredness of my sanity or for those still inside forlornly looking at the world. It is just my way as I will not feign my disdain of those would kill a Starling or shoot down a Seagull in flight as they aggressively advocate the justification to wipe out their species due to the non-existent danger they pose. Each Friday I will stand outside at the foot of a dirt bed that crops of red ripe beefsteak tomatoes will call home tossing bread to my friends the Starlings who serenade me with their songs just as they had done over 3,000 years ago for my ancestors on their trip to freedom.

Things have a place they belong to. We too must feel we belong. Leave my life at my side as you take your leave. I know deep down you could not go my way even if you pretend you will try. It’s just my way! How hard it is for a man like me whose way it is to get out of his own way to his destiny may be set for him.