Like so many things, as I’ve gotten older I’ve found myself sliding off the solid ground of black and white and landing in the mush of gray. Not like the day old bowl of oatmeal on the back of the stove you meant to toss, but the gray of right and wrong; black and white I’ve found living in a much less defined space. Thus, I felt myself nodding in agreement with you about some things but then thinking, wait, but then…there’s that, oh, and there’s this, and then there’s that, again… and before I knew it I was in the mushy bowl of oatmeal which incidentally had gotten thrown down the rabbit hole. At these times, I usually keep quiet; however, there are the times when my personal perspective of what is right and what is wrong is much too defined to keep quiet- at these times I speak up and enter the conversation. Not to judge or be judged but to resist looking upon myself as having given tacit approval in the form of silence to the many injustices which foil humanity’s fervent need to evolve into a compassionate and viable species. So, without direct invitation, at times I will wade in, but I also believe a discussion, exchange of opinions, or even an argument held in a public forum like Medium must be a tacit invitation to join the conversation.