I Hate Being The Low Man On The Totem Pole

Dog owners often conflict with their pets. Employees conflict with their bosses. Children conflict with their parents. Athletes conflict with their coaches. Students conflict with their teachers. The world is ripe with conflict.

I want to be like Preston’s dog. Not like Preston. Or Preston’s pants.

I don’t hate anybody. I do, however, hate many things created by people and many behaviors displayed by people. I hate them very much. In too many ways to count.

“Conflict resolution” is a big deal. Companies spend big money training people how to better resolve conflict. Therapists probably earn lots of money from people frustrated by their inability to handle stress well. Some therapist could likely retire if he were to have me as a paid patient. Not going to happen. My psychosis is my own and those I love.

Who needs to resolve conflict anyway? It’s much better to avoid it altogether!

People and creatures create most of the conflict that I suffer - and hate. Oh, sure there’s been the ocassional flat tire, or dead battery. That irks me, but there’s no conflict. How can you have conflict with an inanimate object? I’m not that skillful in my hatred, but I’m working on it. Ask my disorganized CD collection. I hate it. The disorganization, not the collection.

Why do people or creatures cause conflict? Because we all want what we want. We want to feel whatever we want to feel and we don’t much care what anybody else thinks or feels. So, we march forward with bull-headed determination to have it the way we want and sometimes we encounter resistance.

Enter the proverbial totem pole. That pecking order that enslaves all of us. About the time we get our head higher than the next fellow and figure we can impose our will - and finally have our own way - BAM! Enter some freakishly larger critter whose head towers above our own. They have a different idea. They want what they want, not what we want. And suddenly we’re right back where we started, at the bottom of the pole hating it so.

Many people feel substantially better by having as many people under them on the pole as possible. They realize there may be others above them, but that don’t much care about that. They mostly are concerned with stepping on the rest of us so they can make sure they’ve got their head higher. It makes them feel superior, better and more in control.

They create conflict so they can get their way. And most of us acquiesce. We don’t really want to fight. So we hug our little lower portion of the totem pole and make ourselves at home, lamenting our pathetic situation.

Today, I’m going to obliterate the totem pole of my life. Well, I’m going to at least get out my pocket knife and whittle on it a bit. Obliterate is probably too strong a term. My boldness will require more time to grow. One step at a time. It’s the 12 step recovery system necessary for my success in handling the conflict in my life. I don’t yet know what the other 11 steps are, but I know step one involves a pocket knife.

I think the carving needed is to alter the face on the bottom of the pole that currently seems to be my own. In it’s place I’ll carve somebody or something else. I won’t pick a specific person or beast. I’ll just alter the figure that appears to be me. I’ll make it look completely different, then that’ll get me off the pole. And if I’m no where on the pole, then perhaps I can select a somewhat higher perch - able to impose my own will.

I realize the challenge. How do I impose my will on my own life when so many others have contact with my life?

I could hole up somewhere, but that’s impractical. People would likely hunt me down and drag me back. Being wanted isn’t what I’ve got in mind.

I could severely limit the people who influence my life or even have contact with me. I’ve tried that. I still try it. It doesn’t work. It’s like trying to scoop up spilled Jello. You just smear it around and it seem so to grow worse.

I have, however, been successful in limiting my interaction with other humans, but it’s never been quite what I wanted. I still have to see people and talk to them.

Among the many tactics I could take, none seem possible or practical. So I have to concoct some other method of survival. That means I have to find a way to successfully deal with the conflict created by all the idiots who surround me and foist themselves upon me.

I have to climb the pole. I have to rise higher.

I have to earn more money because we all know that rich people are better and smarter.

I have to be buy a bigger, nicer house, too. Because we all know that the people who live in the biggest houses are better and smarter.

I have to buy a more expensive car, too. Because we all know that the people who drive a Mercedes or BMW (or something more exotic) are better and smarter.

I can’t work where I work and do what I do and climb the pole. That won’t work. I have to change my career. I can’t drive what I drive or live where I live. It won’t work.

I’m far too common to be up higher on the pole so I have to change that. To impose my will on others I must be more obnoxious. See, I already realize I’m obnoxious to some degree. I just need to ramp it up. I need to view others as being the lesser people they truly are when compared to me. I need to understand that I really am the center of not just my own world, but everybody else’s, too. I need to get up in the morning convinced that the world owes me. I need to go to bed every night thankful that I’m not like common people incapable of being as being as smart as I am.

I think I can do that. A little debt at first will be required, but that’s okay. Americans understand and appreciate the power of debt. Besides, appearance is what matters. Substance is highly overrated. If I appear to be at the top of the pole, then I am at the top of the pole.

Presto, chango! I’ll be up higher on the totem pole where I can hob knob with the other pompous people who seem to always insist on having their way causing conflict for others by avoiding it for themselves.

Don’t tell Rhonda Byrne. She thinks she’s got the Secret.