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Who’s in charge here? 10/15/2007 1:08:01 PM
There are times when I look back on the movie of my life and think, “Bravo! That was some script.” There are other times when I think, “Who’s the moron who wrote this script?” It is amazing how moods can influence our perspective. One minute our lives have been marvellous and the next day it has all been one long nightmare.
There was a time when I thought I had a really lousy childhood. I only focused on the bad stuff. I looked back and saw a lot of pain from an emotionally and verbally abusive father and a mother who had abdicated all responsibility for my spiritual and intellectual upbringing.
My father had survived the horrors of WWII but was incapable of expressing his emotions. He stuffed them down until they exploded in violence in one form or another.
My mother was born Anglican, my father was a Catholic. When they married in 1939, the church made my mother sign a document abdicating all responsibility for our moral upbringing. She told me recently that she did this at the insistence of my grandfather, who was the product of that unenlightened patriarchal time.
Anyway, one day, many years ago, when I was pondering the garbage that had made up my existence to that point, I decided to take some time out to look for the good stuff that may have happened to see if it had not all been in vain. I had developed such a habit of looking only at the negative side that it was difficult at first to find anything positive.
Then I found one. Then, right behind it was another. Suddenly there was a rush of positive experiences slamming into my consciousness. It was amazing! “Where did all this stuff come from?” I wondered. I began to realize that, in actual fact, I had a wonderful life all along! Where had I been all these years?
Although my dad had a hard time with his war experience, he did all that was humanly possible, for that time, to provide a comfortable and healthy life for his brood of five. He did the very best he could with the tools he had. So did my mom.
So why is that, in spite of all the loving care I received, did I feel neglected, abandoned and abused as a child? What is it that keeps us from enjoying our lives to the fullest in a land of milk and honey?
There are many reasons we are disappointed with life. There are many theories on the subject but the one which seems to shout out for expression is that we live such decadent lives we have too much time on our hands. We spend it in self indulgence.
I don’t mean downing a whole carton of Hogendos or going on a cruise. I’m talking about the amount of time we spend in self absorption, contemplating our navels. As one young man pointed out, in third world countries, survival takes up most of their time. They don’t have the luxury of climbing corporate and social ladders or sitting around bemoaning their lot in life. When they do find a moment in their otherwise busy lives they use it to have fun. And they do it with gusto.
Here, we seem to have to fill our spare time numbing our minds on drugs like alcohol or the idiot box. If we do decide to go out for a fun time, it usually requires vast amounts of drugs to break down our inhibitions.
I like to dance. I have danced since I was 11. When I go to a club, I go early. I will dance from nine o’clock until the dance floor starts to fill up. This usually happens somewhere after eleven. While I’m up enjoying myself, most of the other patrons are plying themselves with liquor to get up the courage to go out onto the dance floor. It seems to be epidemic in our society.
I used to be part of that scene. I quit drinking and other drugs when I realized one morning, with my head in the toilet bowl, that the going up was not worth the coming down. The last time I went out to a club, the waitress came by to ask me if I was going to come back because it was such a treat for her to serve someone who was not drunk.
I don’t say this out of any sense of moral superiority. It is just that it is a sad commentary on our society that we are so anal retentive we cannot have a good time without having to break down our barriers with drugs. It begs a hard look at just how messed up we have become.
I look at how people judge others. The juice heads look down on the pot heads, the Catholics on the Protestants, the Jews on the Arabs, the rich on the poor, the jocks on the nerds, women on men and vise versa. I could go on forever but I think you get the point.
What does all this discrimination indicate about us? If we have to put somebody down it is because we feel unworthy, unintelligent, unlovable and/or spiritually bereft inside. People who are prejudiced, judgmental, bigoted, racist or express moral superiority are hollow inside. They don’t know who they are. They have no love in their hearts and no connection to The All That Is. If they had a personal connection to their God/Goddess they would accept everybody as their brother and sister in the family of humanity.
I only began to realy enjoy my life when I came to terms with who I am, and accepted that not only am I a unique individual, I am also only a tiny speck among billions of tiny specks that inhabit this planet. I am full of contradictions, emotional instabilities, shortcomings and arrogances. At the same time, I can accept that everybody else is the same in these matters and I don’t have to judge them any more. Because I know if I judge another that judgment is on myself and I don’t have time to waste feeling sad or miserable anymore. Life is too short. too precious and too damn interesting to waste another minute on self indulgent crap.
‘Til next time - take your head out of the toilet and smell the roses.
More Blogs by Cliff Woffenden • What is Going on? - Saturday, October 20, 2007 • Who’s in charge here? - Monday, October 15, 2007 • What, Me Worry? - Saturday, October 13, 2007
