Adapting

I'm becoming obsessed with the psychology of humans. Why is it that cats, dogs, and anything else we may call pets can adapt to our lives, breaks in routine, and our silly habits and rituals, like daylight savings, while we can't handle the smallest mandatory changes in our behaviors or schedules?

I'd like to think I see myself as I truly am; a chameleon. I can adapt my behavior, my conversations, and my emotions to any and all situations. I know working with kids has allowed me to step outside of myself and cater to them, but I also believe it's taught me to do this with adults. I should add, being a lifelong barfly has allowed me to do this too. I'm always amazed at those who frequent watering holes daily who cannot adapt to the conversation and always go back to what they are comfortable speaking about. I feel this is the norm. I fall back to my go-to excuse and will blame, in part, social media. When we're allowed to only speak of ourselves, without interruption, we develop a false sense of self-worth. When we're allowed to believe there are interest and care, due to clicks, we start to believe the real world is the same. We also lose our ability to change with our environment. When this happens at work, it affects our ability to negotiate, even delegate, when there is a proverbially bump in the road. When this, in my opinion, becomes a disease, is when we are affected socially. I find, and maybe it's something else, like intelligence, loneliness, or simply an uninteresting life, that when we start repeating stories that we find interesting, even though they don't really match the existing conversation, we lost our ability to adapt. 

Last night, while discussing some random topic and attempting to fit in, another person, one I dislike, entered the mix. He immediately went to his go-to macho, misogynistic, repetitive rant. I should note, there is nothing sadder than a man, who hasn't fulfilled his own, let alone society's expectations, who resort to misogyny to fill in for his own inadequacies. Stomping your feet and reminding others of your military service is a wonderful way to remind others of your diminishing virility. While others attempted to appease his faltering ego, I decided to leave. While this move ironically contradicts this blog's title, I thought it best, as I felt a younger, much less understanding and empathetic me coming out. Maybe, in some ways, that is adapting, more than evolving. Something I also view as a lost art.