pointing a middle finger @ anxiety

I've been thinking about the Arab-Israeli conflict lately, and the Palestinian refugees that have lost their homes since 1948. I imagine being born in an era of war, spending your entire life fighting to survive. I imagine not having a proper education, let alone a constant supply of water. I imagine violence, bloodshed, and the screams of my neighbour as a social norm.

And then I think about the problems that we deal with every day. Hating on the government for making us stay at home. Whining about the weather. Playing office politics. Feeling anxious about what other people think of us. Veganism. (jk! or not...) And how these problems are so. damn. trivial lame. I know therapists say that every problem is different and should never be trivialised but really. Our problems are lame. 

We get so hung up with that one person who always seems to be better than us in that one area that we think matters the most. We let it get to us and make us unhappy. But it has occured to me while I was doing all these thinking just how pointless it all is. Our anxiety. Our insecurity. Our inadequacy. On what grounds are we not good enough? If we were struggling to survive a series of artillery shells, it is not the person with the highest education that is going to come out alive. Neither is it the one who is most popular, most eloquent or most beautiful. It is the one with the best survival instincts, and a good dose of luck. I guess what I'm trying to say is that society has shaped us to measure our worth based on a certain set of rules; but when the rules change, our worth is going to change too. And when the rules break down (a n a r c h y), everyone will be nothing but a mere human being. 

There are certain things that trigger my anxiety. But as I ruminate about the Arab-Israeli conflict over the past few days, I think I've learned to point my middle finger at anxiety. 

i am a flower slowly fading, here today and gone tomorrow,
a wave tossed in the ocean, a vapour in the wind.