Dysfunction. God help us, sometimes those labeled dysfunctional funcion better than the rest of us. -author unkown

I'm sure someone knows the author-but not I. This was the writing assignment from the New Voices writer's group I have the privilege to meet with on the 3rd Saturday of the month. The assignment was handed out month ago, in January. Me being the uber-procrastinator I am; I finished it March 19, 2010. Pinkerton Park was lovely that day. Anyway here are the random deep introspective and philosophical thoughts I was having to finish the assignment.

"Some things are mislabeled. We like our little boxes, where everything fits nice and neat and has its place. We slap a label on that box and it fits perfectly stacked away neatly in the warehouse of our mind. We can comprehend and understand things with this sort of reasoning.

Occasionally we encounter something in life that does not have a box. So we label it with whatever label seems most appropriate; regardless of whether or not it is right or wrong.

And on an even rarer occasion something so new or so foreign comes along we have no way to catalog it correctly. We frantically search for a box that closely resembles this new thing.

Eventually we grow weary and assume that because it, the item in question, has no fit in our warehouse it must be cast off; useless, rubbish, garbage. It has no place so it must be disposed of. We throw it out with the trash because it has no value or meaning to us.

Now when we throw it in the bin, and wash our hands clean of it, just glad to be rid of it, there's something we don't realize. Whatever it was, whatever dysfunction it had, it continues to exist and function as it always has. It goes on just as we do, in the same state it was in when we tossed it out.

So rather than see if there was any value there or if there was anyway we could have helped it or fixed this new thing or even just accept it because it was never truly broken; we go on just as ignorant as we were and have always been.

We continue to have our comfortable little lives in the dark warehouse of our mind content with our own small little world. So the statement above is true.

'Dysfunction. God help us, sometimes those labeled dysfunctional function better than the rest of us."

God help US truly.