2013: The Year I Take No Crap

31 12 2012

I asked myself what I really wanted for myself in twenty thirteen, and I decided that best gift of all would be if this is the year I finally take no more crap. From anybody.

I don’t know about you, but I took a lot of crap in 2012.  2013 really should be easy sailing because I’ve simply had enough crap to last.

Unfortunately, I’m aware I”m having one of those new year’s time hallucinations where I’m convinced momentarily that I can create and control change in my life.  I know full well the crap isn’t over.  The crap just keeps coming.  The crap never ends.  In real life, a “tough patch” isn’t always followed by a blessed reprieve.  In this world, the crap storm is followed by the crap fire and the crap flood.

So let’s drink to the crap!  The crap that doesn’t kill us is the crap that makes us stronger.  I plan to kick the crap out of the crap this year.

I see now that the crap is already on its way over to me across the crowded ballroom that will soon be 2013, but I’m not taking any crap, Crap.  I mean it!

How about you?  Will you join me in the No Crap in 2013 Challenge?  Just say no to the crap!





You’re always finding out who You is, all the time.

25 01 2008

Not to get too philosophical on you, but sometimes we all need a proverbial shot in the ass, don’t you think?  A curative prick of vitamin real, anything to remind us that in the great opera of life everyone gets only one chance to sing their swan song and get it right.

It’s like life is a mini-series and you are the co-writer, star and costume design.  You get absolutely no rehearsal; There will be no editing.  It’s all up to you whether you create a captivating tale, performed to perfection, or a dull reel, destined for the dust bin of eternity.  No pressures, mate — we all know that paralytic fear is anathema to a good life well-lived.

To complicate matters, you also must constantly play an extra in everyone else’s life-mini-series, plural.  You have a few larger roles, as well, sometimes playing the spouse, the friend, the co-worker, the boss, the employee, the customer, etc.  Look at all the parts you have to play!  You never are given any lines.  You must completely improvise based on this character you have been assigned and co-created with the universe, a character I will simply call “You.”

And who is this You?  Well, sometimes it seems You could be anybody.  Other times, this You character appears overly determined by the situation You was handed, i.e. the script.  In reality, You is fluid and contradictory.  You are always finding out who You is, all the time.  Mostly it’s a hit or miss thing.  You try something, something changes, and you see if You is happy or not.  Often, You’s most unhappiest moments are the clearest indication to you of what this You person really wants.  (This is where that proverbial shot in the ass comes in handy, as well.)

My relationship to my own You character, which I will call “Me,” can be closely compared to a computer game I used to have where you get to plan your own Roman empire from scratch.  You start by creating a city, and you have to decide how many temples versus how many city walls to build.  Because if you don’t manage to keep your people happy with temples and stuff they riot and tear everything up, and if you don’t build enough walls the invaders come and tear everything up anyway. 

That’s Me, all over.  I keep putting up temples and walls, trying to make this insatiable Me person happy, secure, and not tearing shit up, figuratively speaking.  I haven’t managed to get past the city level, in the game or life, in part because I can never figure out how to collect enough taxes to satisfy and/or fend off the various external and internal angry mobs/Me’s.  If only I thought I could buy Me off as easily as my virtual Roman citizens, I would know what to devote myself to — more money for more temples and walls, of course. 

But alas, in the game of life, money buys nearly everything else, but we all know there’s no shopping for lasting happiness.  That you have to work for, and it doesn’t really come very easily much of time.  It’s a moving target. 

So in the end, I suppose what I’m finally saying here is that life is a great kill-less hunt for happiness and self-discovery.  And I for one am stringing my bow and otherwise preparing for the next season in the great happiness hunt slash mini-series episode starring Me.  Only, I hope I don’t accidentally hit anybody with this thing, there are an awful lot of extras hanging about on my happiness hunting grounds.