For those new residents of Laurieland, here’s your primer—I’ve spent the last five months hard at work, creating the foundation for what I hope will be the inevitable corpus delicti, which ain’t gonna easy at my age. Not easy, but not impossible. I gained my corpulence; only I can lose it. So, as I continue to delve toward tepidness (At 52, being described as hot no longer applies, unless of course, I land a very gullible, easily swayed man with cataracts), I’m now trying to work on the whole package. I’m talking about the internal part of Laurie that seeps through my pores and engages in a battle royale for supremacy of body, mind and spirit.
Much of the work I’m doing now is invisible to the naked eye…even my own and I feel sure the learning process is on going….a 24/7 kind of thing. It’s something I’m doing in my sleep, or would if I ever slept. But on those occasions when Morpheus wins the arms wrestling match with my gray matter, I feel I’m learning. I know for certain it’s happening during my waking hours. I consciously and unconsciously draw sustenance from hidden reservoirs and steadily improving myself through the art of creative forgetting and undoing.
Sometimes it happens quickly, in a crash course setting. Especially lately.
You see, God in his infinite wisdom, has seen fit to bring much of my past to my present. Since 2009, I have opened and closed more doors than a veteran doorman at the Ritz-Carlton. In that time, several people from my past–those I’d written off as fly specks to my life’s relevance–have reappeared. They’ve emerged as older and wiser, softer, gentler versions of the young people I once knew (and in some cases loved) and through the magic of maturity, they’ve made the huge transition in my heart from very unpleasant memories to sage teachers. One of these people recently entered the LK Classroom, Version 20-11, as a guest lecturer. In one very brief telephone conversation, he not only gave me ample food for thought, but the flatware necessary to feed myself.
He unwittingly made me realize that of all the adversaries I will ever face– my ego and how it runs rough shod over my insecurities, is the biggest. He made me painfully aware that this my supreme challenge. These forces have conspired to trick me into thinking their interests are exactly the same as my own. They strive to hoodwink me into believing that I should be motivated by a few of the Seven Deadlies–pride, competitiveness, selfishness, fear or judgmental evaluations of other people. On those occasions when I’m feeling particularly jaded by my own life choices, they can easily lull me into adopting myopic perspectives and delusional theories. Subjectivity goes out the window. But the one thing that’s never cloudy or obscurred is that I love my ego. I really do. LOVE IT. It’s always been there for me when I really needed it because…well, I am after all, me.
It’s not always so cooperative. Being on good terms with it is my only hope towards preventing it from opening the door and letting all those other ‘issues’ in to manipulate me on a full time basis. I know what I need to do. I need to come to a better understanding of how Mr. Ego works, so that we can create a tougher, no-nonsense agreement to work together. We need to get along.
Now, this is where the art of forgetting comes in and trust me, emotional amnesia works. Sometimes it’s the only option we have, so yes, I’m continuing on, hoping to fine tune this subtle artistry. Not only must I forget certain evils perpetrated by me and towards me, I must also be more forgiving, with others and myself. I have to wrap my head around how important silence–even secrecy—-can be. I have to protect the healing transformations unfolding in the starkness of darkness. Why? I’m not yet sure.
But I know I’ll have the answer soon. In the meantime, I must continue to hone my ability to laugh and play along with every absurdity that’s become a large part of the cosmic riddle. Does that sound a little crazy? As if I’ve finally flipped my L’Oreal highlighted lid? Perhaps I am a little crazy, but that’s okay. It won’t be the first time and it certainly won’t be the last. Hell, in this day and age we live in states of such confusion, constantly scratching our heads over so many of life’s conundrums, that I feel sure a little inspired whackiness will do for you as it has done and will continue to do for me: it’s salvation.
So, raise your glass and salute the salience of the unending learning process. Or better still, here’s to insanity which keeps us sane while allowing us to enjoy and even benefit from the divine comedy that life serves up daily.
Oh Dante, you called it correctly, Sir and so did Jung who once scribed:
…. “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”