This is tough post for me to write.
Not because the subject matter is hard and not because I’m ashamed of the content, but because the content itself is hard to process.
As well it should be, I guess.
I’m not sure where I ever ranked on the humility scale before my exile, but I know where I currently sit.
Somewhere between Marvin Gardens and Pacific Avenue.
And once again, as well it should.
This entire experience has stripped me bare for the world to see.
I am exposed. I am scared and I am alone.
If not for the spotlight on my face and the hushed whispers of the people behind it, sitting within the anonymity of darkness, I would swear I was the last man on Earth.
But now I have the added bonus of the holidays quickly approaching, as well as some truly great things happening at work clawing at the raw flesh of my day to day life.
The holidays is understandable.
Separated, completely isolated and alone. Every Christmas light, every holiday song, every snowflake, a repeated stab in the heart.
But work….that’s something completely unexpected.
Unexpected, unimaginable and impossible to paint with any one emotional brush.
What do you do when something great happens, but you have no one to tell?
Did it even happen at all?
And if so, who cares?
I don’t measure my life’s accomplishments based on others reactions…shit, if I did I’d be far more successful than I am.
But wouldn’t it be nice if when you said “Honey, I’m home”, there was somebody listening?
Same thing applies here.
Honey, I’m home.
Honey, I got a promotion.
Honey, not only are they going to run that story, they asked for another one.
And to make matters even worse, I was originally very excited to take this job because, for one thing, it’s a company I truly believe in, support their brand and their product, and know that within these wall, I can make a difference. That is a seriously rare combination of paths aligning.
But beyond that, this was the job and career path that was going to make both of our dreams come true.
This put us both physically where we wanted to be in order to reach our shared goals.
And now the clouds have parted. The darkness that enveloped me has thinned. The fog that choked me has weakened enough where I’m not constantly gasping for air.
I’m starting to feel like my old self again – but so what?
I’ll never “be” my old self – and that’s half good and half catastrophic.
I never want to be the old version of myself.
The lying, manipulating, agent of absolute fucking chaos.
But the light that shines through has no one to illuminate.
And what good is light if there’s no one to see what’s being shown?
Does a space exist of nothing occupies it?
Would art exist if nobody wanted to see it?
A sunrise shines down on the pristine white sand of an empty beach.
Each individual grain of sand shimmers in the first light of the day.
Forming a glistening blanket of undisturbed calm.
Not so much as a single footprint corrupts the landscape.
The world ahead is innocent and untouched. Immaculate. Spotless. And beautiful.
But so what?
Is it enough to just “be” or do we need someone to bare witness?
What good is good if nobody appreciates it?
I mean besides the inherent good?
The built in good.
The batteries are in fact included, good.
I stand before you ( well actually I’m sitting at my desk…not really “before anyone”…but for the sake of dramatic prose, just go with it ) humble.
I have taken big steps. Covered tremendous ground. Made incredible progress. All within myself.
I have started to grow emotionally and, in my mind, made great strides professionally.
( the pay sucks – but I’m a hell of a lot happier doing it! )
But I have very little to show for it.
And yes, technically, it’s only been a month – although not really.
But my brain does not and will never process information in the slow lane.
I’ve leaped canyons in my ability to curtail my impulses, but I’m still a Type A personality. I do want things to happen quicker than most. And why not? Who the fuck would ever want to be in my shoes any longer than they have to?
Do you think prisoners are sitting around thinking “One day I’ll get out. Not sure when…doesn’t matter…it’s cool…all good….one day”.
I do want progress faster than it’s able to manifest.
That’s true. But I’ve kept a very tight and locked lid on my impulses
and it becomes easier every day.
Sure I have my moments of weakness – but that’s why the fucking phrase “moments of weakness” exists. Because it’s a real thing. Not just something that happens to me.
Otherwise they’d call it “Moments of Veeness”. And people all over the world would be admonished for acting Veeish.
Husbands would come home and say things like, “Honey, you’ll never guess what I did. You know that money we were saving to send Jimmy to college? Well, no need…I invested it in a local start up that manufactures scuba gear for ducks.
Pretty soon we’ll be bathing in brand new hundred dollars bills.
To which an exasperated wife would reply “I wish you wouldn’t act like such a Vee all the time! I want a divorce.”
Then that poor husband would find himself in a 10×16 studio apartment, washing his shirt in the bathroom sink, wondering why his pillows smell like tuna fish cans.
The point I’m trying to make is that this whole experience has done a lot for me.
And by no means is it all good. Not even a little.
There’s a whole lot of shit I’m going to have to work through once I finally get myself out of this fucking nightmare.
But what it has done is given me new eyes. New ways of seeing things. Brighter vision. Wider view. Much much much broader horizons.
It has made me thankful for the small things.
Appreciative of the bigger things.
And grateful for everything, past, present and future, in-between.
There’s an expression making the rounds in the spiritual circles these days. “Woke”.
He’s woke. She’s woke.
It basically means that you see the bigger picture of life.
Not obsessed with the small insignificant minutia.
You’re content to be a passenger because you realizes that’s all we really are.
Well, one of the precursors to being woke, is to truly become humble.
To know what it is to be last. To be at the end of the line. Under the weight. To see the world in front of you, as it really is.
To have nothing. Except focus and determination.
In my case, a muddled personal tidal wave of shit collapsed my house of cards.
And honestly, I’m fine with that. Better than fine. I’m good with it.
I’m glad it happened.
I’m NOT happy about it. That would be some straight up bullshit. Everyone prefers to live inside the Matrix.
But at least I’m unplugged from it.
I’m no longer living in the pretend oasis.
And that’s important. In fact, I’d go so far as to say it’s the most crucial thing that happened to me in the last 20 years.
Again, not good – but in my case, very very necessary.
I am humble because I had and now I don’t.
I am humble because I am ok with myself.
I am humble because I know the universe has a plan.
I am humble because The Iron Sheik has made me humble.
I am humble because it’s necessary.
I am humble because
Ok…I get it…I’m humble.
I love you too.