Part of the Problem ... or Part of the Solution?

Everyone has crap in their lives.  It's a fact.

And when it all seems to add up--as it always seems to do--it's really easy to wallow in it, to get bogged down by it, to bring yourselves to the same low level as people you have absolutely no respect for.

It's funny, when I start to feel totally overwhelmed by the garbage that seems to me like unspeakably heavy lead weights attached to my legs while I'm swimming in the ocean, it always occurs to me to remember that I have the power to make a choice.

Do I want to be part of the problem?  Is it my desire to keep on trying to swim, held back and stuck in one place by those blocks of lead that are tied to me?  Is there any point, really?

It's much easier to be part of the solution, to figure out a way to cut the ropes that have tied the weights to me in the first place, to recognize that the blocks of lead will still be there, will always be trying to wrap their way around me again ... but that I do not have to let it happen.

And so tonight, I'm taking a deep breath.

I cannot change, understand on any sort of rational level, or try to help (a mindset that always ends up backfiring in my face), no matter how hard I try, someone who is so mentally ill that the only person that matters to himself is ... well, himself.

I cannot change people in positions of power that are completely blind to reality.  All I can do is the best I can and hope that these people either open their minds a little bit or are replaced by more qualified and competent individuals.

I have no power over the life dramas that add up--things like dogs barfing between the cracks of the hardwood floor, head lice, dead car batteries, abscessed teeth, mail that gets lost, cell phone cases that break, not being able to access work e-mail from home, writer's block, losing a book I'm really into when I have two chapters left, friends that disappear unexplained from your life, and so on and so forth.

And so sometimes, you just have to stop, do a quick self-reflection, and ask, "Am I part of the problem?"

Usually, no matter how much you want to think otherwise, the answer is yes, either because of clumsiness or insensitivity or irresponsibility or impulsivity or whatever.

So then I have to put on my big girl panties and strive to instead be part of the solution.

This isn't always possible.  In fact, sometimes you are going to get metaphorically screwed, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

The three big things that are wearing me down, I do not believe that I am part of the problem, no matter how many different angles I am looking at them.

I honestly don't see how I can be part of any solution, which makes me sad and full of regret, but there is nothing I can do.  I mean, when you can say with a 100% clear conscience that you have tried everything in your power, you have to just do the best you can and have hope that things will change for the better.

They always do eventually.

But I refuse to swim around with those lead weights tied around me anymore.  I have to harden my heart, which is so anti-me it's not even funny, but it's the only way I can be free.

It's the only way I can possibly be part of the solution instead of possibly perpetuating the problems.

I believe in a higher power, and I believe in karma.  I live my life doing the best I can for other people, and I am able to look in a mirror with a clear conscience.  I have no ulterior motives for any of my actions that are intended to hurt other people, and I know in my heart that I am a good person.

Somehow I know that the people at the root of my current conundrums can't say that about themselves.

And with that realization, I think I'll be able to sleep tonight :-)

Prufrockin': To Shake the Status Quo or ...

T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" has always stood out to me, I'm not sure why. I think it's mostly because of the end, where Eliot writes, "I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each/I do not think that they will sing to me"; ever since reading that, I have always listened for mermaids at the beach. Although I know it's kind of stupid and I know intellectually it's not possible, I believe in my heart and soul that there could be mermaids, a whole world down there in the depths of the ocean--that is the part of me that is a writer.

More academically--and more traditionally, I suppose--"Prufrock" has, to me, served as a warning to eschew mediocrity, to be brave enough to eat a peach and to never, ever be one of those women coming and going, talking of Michelangelo instead of creating their own magic. In other words, the status quo should never be good enough.

Perhaps this is the part of the poem that scares me most:
"No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous,
Almost, at times, the Fool."

The thing is, I had sworn my life over to mediocrity for a very long time. I had essentially surrendered myself into the role of an "attendant lord", going about my life in a mundane way, letting someone else call the shots and suppressing the part of myself that looks at stars and wonders why my dogs turn around three times before going to sleep and whether global warming is legit and if we all see the same shade of red when we look at an apple and ... well, you know, the part of myself that was ME.

And I have that part back now. With the help of destiny in the form of alcoholism that shattered my marriage and blew up my world, I have somehow found myself again. There is magic in my life now, tremendous magic, but I am so scared that it's an ephemeral thing, that I am just an attendant lord again, just not to a mentally ill alcoholic husband. The rational part of me says, "Nope, you can feel the magic, you are yourself again, just go with it," but the part of me that needs to know where things stand is yelling, "Be Prince Hamlet, damn it! Shake up the status quo. Live a little--if you don't make the conversation happen, you'll just exist in this vacuum until ..."

Until WHAT, Prince Hamlet part of my brain? Until what?

And then I read the last lines of Eliot's poem, about contemplating on taking that chance, of living a little, "until human voices wake us and we drown." Isn't what I have now better than that?

If you read this blog with any regularity, you can probably figure out what I'm talking about. If you don't, that's okay too ... it's a pretty universal concept, I think. So my question to you, wonderful readers, is this: is it better to just live your life, enjoying a status quo which is pretty decent, or do you shoot for the stars, take destiny into your own hands and put everything you currently have going for you at risk?

Maintaining a Positive Outlook in the Face of Constant Smackdowns

According to one of my best friends, Jo, life is all about having a positive mental attitude (abbreviated to PMA, opening her to much ribbing about a certain time of the month ... and yes, she does in fact yell it down the halls of school, via text message and e-mail, and communicates it in every way).

It's funny how sometimes, no matter how "P" your "MA" is, though, life just keeps smacking you down. You know those punching bag toy things, the ones that have sand at the bottom that keep coming back up no matter how many times you knock them over? Or, in the eternal words of Chumbawamba, "I get knocked down, but I get up again"? Why is it that some people are able to get back up so easily, while others just curl up in fetal position and whine about how the world is out to get them?

I'm curious, because my resilience to the ebbs and flows of life is kind of schizophrenic. Sometimes, I am totally on Jo's PMA bandwagon, singing Chumbawamba and popping right back up no matter how awful things get. Other times, I'm crying like a baby. Sometimes I surprise myself with my own strength, and at times I am ashamed of how weak I am. There's no rhyme or reason to it.

Is this just human nature? Are there people that are always able to take adversity in stride? If so, how does one become of that ilk?

Cystematic

The lump was just a cyst!!!!

I am, of course, beyond relieved. However, this little scare has made me think a great deal about those who are not so lucky.

These things come like a shot in the dark. You hear all the time about children, adolescents, and seemingly-healthy adults getting cancer, having heart attacks, and so on. It's incredibly frightening when you think about it.

I can tell you that I certainly appreciate my life--and everyone in it--more today than I did a week ago. How horrible is it, that sometimes it takes such a sobering event to make you realize how lucky you are?

Well, the bus will be here in a minute ... the freshman class is on a field trip to an outdoor teambuilding event with high and low ropes courses, among other things.

I suspect I'll be flirting with death on a zip line within a few hours ;)