Nothing exhausts me more than the lack of authenticity. Living by appearances. Having all the answers. Summing up the failures of others by pointing out what went wrong when and how. It must be simple living to go with that mentality. Maybe then your heart doesn't break when someone's kid gets pregnant, or drunk, or high, or cuts at their own skin. It's simple to drum up a bit of a tsk, tsk, and then figure they had it coming because they did this or didn't do that, or followed entirely the wrong parenting philosophy. Or didn't say the right prayer at the right time.
Must be tidy not to get your hands dirty or your heart ripped out, or only-give-to-the-church so that your formula can remain intact and you don't have to be responsible for whether or not that whatever you gave away will be misused, wasted, squandered, or be unworthy of a tax receipt.
Must be exhausting to sweep things underneath the carpet. Keep careful track of what's been swept, what needs to stay there, what never-to-say. Not engage in dangerous dialogue in which differences of opinion may exist or people may be challenged in their ways of thinking.
Must be comfortable to live such a homogenous existence.
Must be tidy to look after your own appearances. Never make yourself vulnerable to others' judgements by simply staying insular. Private. Stoic.
Say the right words or say nothing at all. Make your children mind. Leave the controversial for the sloppy and the worldly. Talk about nothing.
I wonder what would happen if people woke up. If they worked less on the right answers and more on putting what they apparently know into actual actions. Made eye contact. Let their eyes be the window to the soul. Lay it out. Cry a little.
Protect themselves less.