Reflecting Upon Favorites

I am not sure I want to have 'favorites' anymore;

the idea that a powerful (love for / enjoyment of) one thing

must jostle other well-liked contenders out of an upper tier of my appreciation

is really

rather

sad.

Must my loves bump and shove each other out of the way

like thoughts and feelings in my (undiagnosed) ADHD mind*

like weeds wrestling for sunlight above and clawing for moist soil below

like people in a crowded train station, city, and society

all demanding

I WAS

HERE FIRST

I DESERVE

FIRST PLACE!

.

.

.

*do you think ADHD is an advantage or disadvantage when it comes to writing stream of consciousness poetry? Seems like an unfair leg up to me, since our brains are kind of just wired to not remain focused on one thing for too long. It's almost like stream of consciousness is our native language! But then again -

wait

no

sorry, I'm getting distracted.

BACK TO THE POEM:

The need for ONE favorite thing in any particular category

might be a manifestation of the desperate hunger for a sense of identity

that hides behind so many of our aspirations and personality traits.

("If I know what's important to me, I know who I am!")

Having your favorite sports team, ice cream flavor, TV show, etc.

Can be a way of knowing who you are, and being able to quickdraw

an autobiographical character sketch.

(I think "Autobiographical Character Sketch" would make a great band name, incidentally.)

But that doesn't sound so bad, right?

Yeah, that's not so awful, right?

Right?

(right.)

(but we'll get back to that.)

Like all good things, favorites only go real sour

when taken

.

.

.

too

.

.

.

far...

...like the concept of sugar-free lemonade,

or a brand of milk that claims to have a lengthy shelf life.

When everything (and everyone) starts to fall into categories, and

When our 'favorites' become unbenevolent dictators of our attitudes, and

When other people's most important quality is their alignment or lack thereof (with our own flawless system of favorites, that is), and

When the arguments start and parties form and guns are loaded and wars erupt and there are no more white flags left to wave because they've all been used as bandages, tourniquets, or propaganda posters,

then

maybe,

things have gone

.

.

.

too

.

.

.

far.

.

.

.

(Let's dial it back for a minute.)

I don't want my love of pistachio ice cream (indeed, my favoritism towards it) to mean that I can't see the good in mint chocolate chip.

And just so,

I don't want my love of slow, solemn, philosophically-oriented cinema (indeed, my favoritism towards it) to mean that I can't appreciate or accept the fact that my friend loves flashy action flicks,

nor ever see the good in those films myself,

nor ever hold a conversation with my friend about such movies which doesn't devolve into thinly veiled vitriolic mockery.

And just so,

I don't want my concern for (insert contentious political topic) (indeed, my favoritism towards that) to mean that I can't see the validity in (insert second contentious political topic which is conventionally prioritized across the partisan aisle from the previously mentioned contentious political topic),

nor the humanity in those who disagree.

(sorry, was that too political?)

no

my love need not be a scarce quantity,

a rarely seen quality;

it can overflow

abound

and resound

within and for and across

many, many, many things.

.

.

.

Of course,

Not everything must be your favorite or mine

Not everything must be agreed with

Not everything must be held dear

But

Neither must everything be categorized

Neither must everything be ranked

Neither must everything be analyzed before an attempt is made to simply see the good within or behind it.

In that vein,

I've just thought of a little challenge, for me and for you:

the next time we make a list of favorites,

whether in our heads or on paper, and

whether of songs,

or restaurant appetizers,

or days of the week or movie genres or political ideologies or colors of romper or

carsorflowersoranimalsorseasonsorarchitecturalstylesoralcoholicbeverages

or people

lets both try to think of something that would land particularly LOW on that list of favorites, within the category of things we are ranking

(does that make sense? Basically, think of something that's NOT a favorite whatever)

and then

even though it's not our favorite

let us both try for a moment to think of one quality which we might be able to love,

appreciate,

enjoy,

respect,

or even just accept,

about that person thing.

.

.

.

Perhaps favorites are not too bad, after all.

It is truly wonderful to know and cherish a friend's favorite color

and for someone close to remember (and purchase a bag of) your favorite flavor of chips.

Yes, perhaps favorites are not so bad,

So long as our love is not inversely proportional to atmospheric pressure -

which is to say,

so concentrated at the high and mighty altitudes of our mountainous, meticulously constructed podiums

that none is left over for everything

and everyone

down below,

who / which are not

our

favorites.