Skip to main content

Identity theft.

I spent this past week cleaning out the linen closet.

Our linen closet doesn't just have linen-y stuff in it; over the years it's become a filing cabinet. A really disorganized, hanging-on-to-who-knows-what-from-the-80's filing cabinet.

Knowing that the closet contained years and years of financial and career history within pounds and pounds of paper was making me crazy. So I pulled every last bit out.

Holy crap.

Since we don't have a shredder, I've been sitting on the floor, being a shredder, if you will. And as I've been sitting, shredding, reflecting on who I was in 1998, or where I was in 2001 when I paid that Verizon bill, the thought occurred to me -

The reason I am shredding papers is because there are people out there who will steal your identity. They'll just take your name and info and try and benefit somehow from it.

Immediately I became much older and judgmental in my thoughts:

"What, they don't have anything better to do than to steal my identity? Good God, Get a job!".

And then I wondered about stealing identities, and how perhaps I may have done that a few times in my life - not stealing really, more like trying on another person's life.

Ex: What would it be like to be Katy Perry? Hmm...

Or, a six-figure Executive?  Hmm...

Or a woman who is super confident and doesn't care what anyone thinks. (yes, I like this one in particular).

Then my pondering went further -

What about thinking we know another person? Is that like stealing someone's identity?

If someone subscribes to a certain political party, watches certain programming, or has a nose ring, or likes to wear suits, or steals gum from the Walgreens, or sunbathes naked, or believes a certain way about anything, or likes to spend or eat or sing a certain way - do we come up with our own identity stamp of who they are behind what they believe, do, say? Do we steal their identity away from them with our commentary, or ideas, or judgment placed on it?

I wonder about our world and I'm thinking it would be a much safer and sweeter place if we just kept our identities to ourself, and stop deciding who and what others are based on our own personal assumptions.

I suppose then the only thing left to steal would be savory moments from our own lives and enjoying the time we have left here. I can definitely identify with that.

Love in the form of Friday ponderings,
XO Laura.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

staying connected.

I made a big change.  I followed a call.  I was drawn to Colorado, and to the sun, and to things not quite in my view yet.  Two months ago I moved about 30 miles from Denver, to a cabin, in the mountains. It's remote here, but I still need to connect with the internet powers, and to share my music during these extended pandemic times, and to ease into mountain living with a sprinkling of modernity. I found a broadband company who can service my area and last week they installed all the moving internet parts. Yay! No. slow ... slow ... "can't connect"...over and over, "can't connect"...  or WON'T, internet, be honest, is it can't or won't??  (I *may* have accidentally been talking to the modem, and the laptop, the broadband company.) I persisted, and as I prepared for this morning's Zoom service, I plugged my ethernet cable right into the modem and I was connected.  Wahooooo ! A half hour later, it couldn't connect again, despite being...

everything counts.

What a week it has been. My MacBook crashed and needed a new battery. I lost my phone. I found out I have arthritis in my hips. There is a horrid smell coming out of my apartment building A/C so I receive a toxic welcome each time I walk into the building and hallway to my home. Lots of driving, too, which doesn't help the hip sitch, finishing off the week with a journey down to Kohl's to make a return only to learn their computer systems were down.  A long list, counting one by one all the things that went wrong.  Thank You for joining me on this episode of "Poor Me." Oh! And then the money counting; realizing I had spent more than I made and coming face to face with how what I bring to the world is valuable, yet somehow not valuable enough to support a regular 'ol life. What I do counts. Who I am counts.  With each annoyance, frustration, sadness, negative storm cloud, I also had moments when I looked at the beauty around me, slowed down, took a gratitude invent...

It's not always black and white.

When I arrived in Oregon eight years ago, it was an adjustment. We are from New York. End of post. Kidding. I noticed, and wasn't afraid to ask: "Where are all the black people?". Now asking a question like this came from an honest and innocent place inside me. And it also might be offensive to some. I understand the implications yet I'm still sharing this story because what followed was pretty impactful for me. New York is a port where peoples from all nations arrived to make a better life. They brought with them sadness for families left behind, excitement for new beginnings, and culture, food and language. Like folks who traveled to this West side of the country to explore new frontiers, there are new beginnings. Different experiences of it, but still important to note a similar story of leaving the nest for something better. New York is very different than Oregon because of the diversity of the influx of different cultures who arrived, and as a res...