Professional Human Being…Says so On The Name Tag


Not my name tag,..and not yet…..but some day…! The first thing to grasp in accomplishing becoming a professional human being is to unlearn almost everything we learned from our parents, a lot learned from school, except for gym class. And, especially everything we learned from society – we’ve been had and/or tricked. They too were wronged – we can’t really blame anyone. Somebody left the wrong set of instructions for us to go by. Those were rules on how to live without the use of a true purpose in life and a meaningful one at the very same time.

The road to PHB ‘Pro Human Being’ status is not built with the stack of bachelor degrees one burns the midnight oil or swirlee bulbs trying to attain. And, neither is it with the countless years held in Office or in an office. Its really very simple.  It entails an uneducated and apolitical heart–one that hasn’t learned to be anything other than what it is.

I don’t have the precise answer.  I would sound trite and pretentious, inaccurate, a little delusional, somewhat paranoid, short-statured, evasive and gospel-preaching. I claim to be none of these aforementioned things, except for short (yet nothing that a pair of three inch heels wouldn’t fix in a hurry). But I can tell you this.

And that is that a great human being, to me, means one who, in an effort to help out someone in need, effortlessly starts by breaking any and all predisposed rules talking him out of said undertaking.   Social rules, legal, emotional, physical rules–gone!  Well…, perhaps stopping short of bodily injury to oneself but hopefully owning a fully loaded and recharged cell phone so as to call for intervention.

My standards, though high, are not unreachable by most of us. Not so outlandish that any one of us is not able to fulfill some genuinely kind act,daily, to really help someone out before ourselves. Really first, not almost first, or immediately rightttttt afterrrrrr we’rrrrrrre donnnnnnne – first. I’m talking –give over the last morsel of survival food – first; last bit of oxygen… first. Like that.

Albeit true that this is sort of an unfair premise because how often do we eagerly, in superman-esque mode, get the chance to hand over our oxygen mask to someone else first while on our way to work on a city bus in heavy commute. Still… I think we’re meant to work with what we got.

On any given day, anywhere in the world, there is always someone who needs us. So after a little time spent getting past the body check and also cleared for not harboring any hidden agendas — help some arbitrary stranger out today. It has been done before–its’ happening as you read this. Of course, its not always six O’clock news worthy – but … you hear that? … that’s the sound “a difference makes” when you make someone happy by caring enough to do so – so do so!

A name tag awaits! Ah! we won’t need one anyway – God knows who we are.



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