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Songs From My Past: Someone Saved My Life Tonight

I love music.

I don’t know too many people who hate it, but you know that thing that you did as a teen, lying in your bed in the dark listening to your Walkman and just zoning out or daydreaming? I still do that, just with an iPod. Music takes me away, to where I’ve been, where I wished I had been, where I’d like to go. That’s why I love to write to music – it helps me to get in the zone. Sometimes I get too far into the zone and I feel like I can’t write – but that’s exactly when I know that I must.

I’m going to throw one up here every few days.  For me, these are the songs that live in my soul and take me…somewhere.

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I’m starting with this one. I always thought this song was beautiful but it gained far more powerful meaning much more recently.  When I was deep in depression, contemplating how many pills were the right ones to take me back to the realm of the stars, I would listen to this song and cry from the depths of my soul.  Yet it always reminded me that help was coming…if I could only hold on.

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Sometimes, Shit Does NOT Happen

My son has not pooped in 5 days.

This is worrisome.

We decided to go cold turkey with the diapers.  He’s three, and if he wears pull-ups, he just goes in them. So a few months ago we started testing him out with underwear.  He had quite a few accidents – 0f both the yellow and the brown kind.

I quickly got turned off and went back to pull-ups.

Then we tried again a few weeks ago. There was progress: he would announce when he had to go pee-pee, but he would hold out for a pull-up to poop.  His butt armed and ready with his pull-up (which, come on, people, it’s really still a fucking diaper), he’d run off into a corner and next thing I’d hear all the accompanying grunts and pushing and voila!  There would be poop.

Finally, I decided enough was enough.  Punksin was potty trained by her second birthday.  I know boys are harder and I know Pudding is a different kid, but still, comparisons aside, I felt it was time.  Clearly there was progress in just a few weeks: he could and would tell us when something was pending, and he didn’t like having accidents, so I figured he’d either “git ‘er done” immediately or have one or two accidents that would quickly get him over his last hurdle.

That was 5 days ago.

He’s been in underwear the whole time. And he’s been peeing like a champ – only one accident.

But he will not poop.

At first I wasn’t concerned; I figured he’d just sort of overflow. Score zero for me as a mother:  I’ve since read that children who hold it can end up making it harder for themselves to go.  Apparently the bowels pull water out of the poop which in turn makes it harder for them to push it out which makes them scared to poop which makes them hold it which makes the bowels pull out more water which makes it harder for them to push it out…

And eventually they become impacted, meaning they need an enema or something to clear all that shit out. Literally.

I remember this happening with my daughter. She was a baby at the time, so she had to go along with the indignity of getting a suppository shoved up her butt and although she was none too happy about it, it was pretty easy to handle the flailing chubby legs of a 9-month old.

My son is three years old.

I’m not sure if I’m going to have to go the enema route or if the Milk of Magnesia I started giving him last night will do the job, but whatever the case, I can tell you one thing.

This is not going to be pretty.

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And You May Ask Yourself, How Did I Get Here?

The Matrix is without a doubt one of my most favorite movies ever, not only for the kick-ass action sequences but also for its interesting philosophical questions. As someone who believes that the world we live in is largely a world of illusion through which we navigate to something deeper and more profound, I was definitely moved by the movie when it first came out.

It happened to be on TV two nights ago and although it was on some channel that edits the shit out of movies until the fun parts are all gone, I still had to watch. I can’t not watch The Matrix; if I see it showing I am drawn involuntarily like some dumb ass moth going right into a candle flame. There are a couple of movies like that for me: Terminator 2 is one, which I saw 3 days in a row when it premiered, and so is The Fifth Element, my favorite parts being any scene where Chris Tucker is screaming his ass off like a bitch.)

Anyhow, it was fitting that I would see The Matrix again because recently my mind has been on the nature of the world we live in, and the world we create out of it. Life is full of choices (blue pill? red pill?) and their consequences. And it’s rare that a choice is purely good or bad; it’s not often a question of good vs evil or right vs wrong, but left vs right. Neither road is necessarily the wrong road; both roads have delights and pains and quandaries and more often than not you can’t see which specific ones you will face; you just make a choice and hope that ultimately you’ve made the one that’s gonna make you the least miserable. Sometimes you can look back and know definitively that you took the right path. Other choices have gray areas: life might not have been better or worse, just…different.

I’ve had occasion recently to look back on certain points in my life and reflect on choices I made in my wild and stupid youth, and the choices I might have made had I known how things would turn out.  With regards to where I am right now, I am happy. That doesn’t mean, though, that there are no regrets and nothing I would do differently; the older I get, the more I move away not only from my physical 20-or 25-year old self but also from the emotional and mental manifestations of that girl.  If I could go back, I would live more in tune with the real me, making choices that reflect the unchanging core of who I really am. Because even back then, there were glimpses of ME that I chose to ignore in favor of the person people wanted me to be, or at least who I thought they did.

Of course, we can never go back, and the irony of saying I would have been more in touch with myself is that, in most cases, that process only happens with the passage of time and the gain of experience; rare is the 20-year old who makes absolutely no mistakes warranting some Monday morning quarterbacking.  One glorious thing I’ve found, though: that when we make inauthentic choices or do things “improperly,” life has a way of bringing the opportunity back around so that you can try again to get it right, and if you become more introspective and develop any sense of self, you eventually start to understand what you need to do to get it right.  Time and age and observation of both my own life and that of others has shown me that in most cases, we’re really not learning entirely new lessons in life. Like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, we’re just repeating the same shit over and over and over, and we don’t stop repeating it until we get it right. As they say, if you keep doing the same thing, you will continue to get the same result. For those of us doing right by ourselves – and that’s key, not by others, but by ourselves – the result is a charmed life, but for many of us, the results of some of our actions are frustration and unhappiness, which then begs the question: why do we refuse the change we claim to seek when opportunities to grab it come repeatedly? If you hate drama, why continue to engage with people who revel in it? If you are unhappy, why not find the source and take the steps to excise it from your life? We are like people who’ve discovered we’re allergic to shrimp, only to keep returning to Red Lobster for the all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet every day. Stupid.

I do think that life, or God, or the Universe, wants us to get it right, not to fail. But it’s up to us not only to learn, but to live what we say we’ve learned; in fact we really can’t say we’ve truly learned until we’re living that knowledge.  It’s one thing to know to wait for the green light, but if you’re persistent in running the reds, well, shit is gonna happen. The tough part is that living our truth most often does mean a life change or at least an attitude adjustment.  It can mean dropping relationships that we’ve come to recognize as toxic, or learning new skills to embrace a goal we’ve always held dear, or adopting a new mindset that allows us to release anger or stress or drama. It doesn’t have to mean picking up and moving to Bali a la Eat, Pray, Love, but if you seek a change of job, of environment, of mindset, you have to introduce something different to bring it.  Only change begets change. None of these things is easy; old habits die hard, but when we hold on to old habits that are not working for us, we hold on to all the unhappiness that accompanies them.

So the only question is, do you want to stay in the life that is The Matrix and be a you that’s not fully you?

Or wake up to embrace whatever sets you free?

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