There are these two phrases that people routinely say to each other, and I want to examine them together because they are interesting to consider in conjunction.
One is, I hope nothing happens to me (or you). This is usually spoken where there's real or apparent danger ahead. Son, as you head off to Afghanistan, I hope nothing happens to you. During my international plane ride or my root canal, I hope nothing happens to me. Nothing goes wrong, nothing is bad.
On the other hand is, I hope something happens to me. This is usually spoken where's there's real or apparent delight ahead. I'm going to my first prom, oh, I hope something happens! I'm headed off to the interview, I hope something happens. That same international plane ride might be different if I'm single and hoping to sit next to an good-looking also single European guy; in that case, I really hope something happens to me. Something good will happen, that's the wish.
Sometimes, these messages get mixed up, there's crossed signals. For instance, I think when most mothers say "I hope nothing happens to you," they mean it in both senses. Many mothers do not want to see their children fully grow up, become independent, separate from them; this was certainly a chief complaint of my own mother (dear departed ancestor, I honor her!) who had a vague idea that I was to live more or less for her. I don't think it's unusual.
There's also the closely related version of the curse - once again, Mom's world leaps to mind as I think of my Italian grandmother - representative of the "type," classically dressed in black, maybe clutching a cross, dishing up some version of "May something happen to you!" when it doesn't mean something good. My grandma never cursed anyone I know of but I do remember her utter a sort of general protection at times, maybe directed against any suspected untrustworthy folk in the neighborhood. Mostly, she just predicted when bad things would happen - deaths, illnesses, etc - but she did not ever really curse anyone. Me personally, I prefer to send out wishes of something GOOD happening: "May your efforts be blessed and your days full of delight" sort of thing.
As for things happening to me, as you might guess from this blog, I've an appetite for it. I tend to say yes rather than no; I like to think that my default setting is "why not" rather than "why?" (My friend Z takes that a step further with a setting of "who cares" - yet even more carefree than "why not?"). Either way, I'm pro something happening. Naturally, it won't always be something good, or at least something that feels good. As Alan Watts says (a quick recap for those new to this blog), since life would be indescribably boring if we already knew what was going to happen, we want a surprise; and if every surprise were good, it would be similar to knowing what's going to happen, so in order for anything nice to ever happen, once must have SOME have to bad surprises. You don't think you want a bad surprise, but trust me, you do.
I had this summer off, and I was hoping something would happen to me. Life can so easily - almost us without noticing it - become routine: we go to work, school, home, and we take care of family, ourselves, our community. Most of our waking time is spent in some version of these activities. Some people tend to love routine - it can be comforting - but I tend to get antsy. I want things to happen to me; I'm alive to experience life, not to manage to get through it okay.
I certainly did my best to have something happen - I took a train solo across country, I drove through Ohio and parts of the midwest, I saw family I'd not seen in many years, I went to childhood haunts, I swam in a mountain lake, I went down into an underground cave. And lots of things DID happen to me, indeed. When one goes out into the world - even just on a day trip - opportunities increase for the universe to come knocking at your door, to serve up experiences you have not had before, nor could you even imagine. You expose yourself to wonder and/or pain every time you encounter another person, or animals, or even nature - risk/reward. They come hand in hand. So out I go, into life, when I can.
But with a WHOLE summer off, I wanted some extra life. I hoped to experience Something Big. And yes, I still have expectations, even though I know that expectations lead to trouble, and it's better to just be willing; if only I could perform in reality all the behaviors I intellectually know are healthy. And yes, my mother's passing away was Something Big, but not quite in the realm of what I hoped for. I wanted a peak experience that might juice me up with inspiration and energy. But nothing much very big came - until right at the end, when I managed to have not one but two magical experiences Neither one was planned and if you'd asked me what I wanted, my answers would not have included either of them, but once it happened, it was perfect - it was like when someone gets you a present that you didn't even know you wanted but you love completely once you see it.
The silly thing? They were both of a nature where I really can't blog about them! I'm here to tell just these sorts of stories, and now I find myself with two tales too problematic for a public airing. One of them was a personal thing that's not easily explainable, just not the sort of story one can quickly tell - like a woman who just found out a family secret, or an insider who can't speak up about a pending business deal. Or someone in therapy who just had a breakthrough. These are just examples, but basically, think of that special good news of sort that just isn't something you can really run around telling everyone, even though you might be bursting with the feeling of "I want to tell everyone this!"
It's even more annoying when you are, as I am, a writer. I like to write everything down, and since I'm not very good at making things up, I have to write about my own life. My method so far has been to make up my life in my mind first, and then try and make that life happen, and then write about that, with a little craft and editing - rather than the more usual route of just making up a story about life and writing it down directly. Every writer has his own method, and that one is mine. It works, except when I get stuck with great stories about things I basically can't write about, for whatever reason - from confidentiality to plain old discretion. Writers are supposed to write without fear, and while I'm theoretically for that, I'm also aware of the need for my creative actions to not hurt anyone, so stuff that's not fit for showing remains either unwritten or private - until the situation changes; I expect I am now, probably, a bit freer to write about my mom.
In this instance, these two - I will call them Incidents - in my final week before returning to work had several elements in common. First, they were both quite unlikely - meaning both 1) things of this type rarely happen to me and 2) I've been in similar circumstances before where nothing at all happened - like playing the slots: I rarely win a lot, and I've never won big. I wasn't looking for an Incident in these arenas, in other words. Secondly, both Incidents came about - and this is what I want to talk about - because there was an opportunity that I identified, considered, decided upon and then - here's the essential part - took action. If you are anything like me, you can do the first one, two or three in that list all the time, but the taking action part? That's the rub, that's the trouble, that's the building that most of us never ever climb to the top of. Because taking action is the hard part - it's the last final step to take, like hitting "send." Now, the thing that was in your head (or heart, dreams, etc) is finally leaving the Realm of You and heading out into Reality, where everyone can see it and know you did it.
Taking action - whether it pans out or not - is always a great relief for me, since it's always been a great fear of mine that I will fail to act, either chronically or at some critical moment. You know that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, "Tapestry"? The story in brief: Picard's artificial heart fails, and then that rapscallion omniscient annoying superbeing Q takes Jean-Luc Picard back in time to change his own history so that he was never stabbed in the heart during a bar fight and realized how fragile life is and therefore never took risks to advance his life, including his career. Q flashes Picard forward to his present day, where Picard the adult is, I believe, now a junior lieutenant, living an insipid life - banal, pedestrian. Picard is so horrified, he asks for his own timeline back, even if it means death, though obviously it all works out just fine.
When I first saw that episode, I was terrified. Is that me? Is that going to be me, I thought. Only time will tell, though at this point, that episode aired long enough ago so that plenty of time has passed for me to be able to somewhat tell how I am doing in life in that department - the taking actions department. Am I taking risks? Some. I'm not, you know, skydiving (not interested, actually - I do not tend toward adrenaline desires) and I'm not relentlessly climbing the corporate ladder (I'm not a junior lieutenant but not a captain either, which I don't want to be) but in many ways, I do throw my hat into the ring regularly.
The ways in which I am bold aren't always dramatic. Sometimes, I say things that others might not say or do what they might not - such as dancing or singing in public when that's not meant to be the main activity. I might have a so-called radical point of of view - such as abolishing capital or schools without tests - that I will advance in unsympathetic company. Or I step into the center of that circle of singers and open my mouth to sing without having any idea at all of what is about to happen. Occasionally, I am in a state of grace, more or less, and can forgive great wrongs; I'm often the first to say I love you.
"Audentes fortuna iuvat" is the Latin phrase: Fortune favors the bold. It can also be translated as "Fortune helps the brave" or "Fortune favors the strong." To boldly go, that other Star Trek captain said. All of those work for me. Fear seems to be the big emotion that humans have to deal with on planet earth, so being bold is this big deal - it's what, in many ways, we are here to do. It's not easy to be bold, and one is not always rewarded. It doesn't always come to fruition, our desires. Plans go awry. Gestures are misinterpreted and presentations fall flat. The high note from the bathroom shower just doesn't seem to be there on stage.
But sometimes - ah, sometimes, you can hit that note. These last two Incidents were like that - there was this little chance, this sliver of possibility, all wrapped up in risk and danger, but tantalizing. What if, the daydreaming brain starts to spin our scenarios; the nighttime brain connects even deeper with the heart and spirit and dishes up even juicier narratives, prodding the body along - go ahead, it all says, take action. Be bold. The Universe will come to your aid.
I hope something happens to you.
I certainly did my best to have something happen - I took a train solo across country, I drove through Ohio and parts of the midwest, I saw family I'd not seen in many years, I went to childhood haunts, I swam in a mountain lake, I went down into an underground cave. And lots of things DID happen to me, indeed. When one goes out into the world - even just on a day trip - opportunities increase for the universe to come knocking at your door, to serve up experiences you have not had before, nor could you even imagine. You expose yourself to wonder and/or pain every time you encounter another person, or animals, or even nature - risk/reward. They come hand in hand. So out I go, into life, when I can.
But with a WHOLE summer off, I wanted some extra life. I hoped to experience Something Big. And yes, I still have expectations, even though I know that expectations lead to trouble, and it's better to just be willing; if only I could perform in reality all the behaviors I intellectually know are healthy. And yes, my mother's passing away was Something Big, but not quite in the realm of what I hoped for. I wanted a peak experience that might juice me up with inspiration and energy. But nothing much very big came - until right at the end, when I managed to have not one but two magical experiences Neither one was planned and if you'd asked me what I wanted, my answers would not have included either of them, but once it happened, it was perfect - it was like when someone gets you a present that you didn't even know you wanted but you love completely once you see it.
The silly thing? They were both of a nature where I really can't blog about them! I'm here to tell just these sorts of stories, and now I find myself with two tales too problematic for a public airing. One of them was a personal thing that's not easily explainable, just not the sort of story one can quickly tell - like a woman who just found out a family secret, or an insider who can't speak up about a pending business deal. Or someone in therapy who just had a breakthrough. These are just examples, but basically, think of that special good news of sort that just isn't something you can really run around telling everyone, even though you might be bursting with the feeling of "I want to tell everyone this!"
It's even more annoying when you are, as I am, a writer. I like to write everything down, and since I'm not very good at making things up, I have to write about my own life. My method so far has been to make up my life in my mind first, and then try and make that life happen, and then write about that, with a little craft and editing - rather than the more usual route of just making up a story about life and writing it down directly. Every writer has his own method, and that one is mine. It works, except when I get stuck with great stories about things I basically can't write about, for whatever reason - from confidentiality to plain old discretion. Writers are supposed to write without fear, and while I'm theoretically for that, I'm also aware of the need for my creative actions to not hurt anyone, so stuff that's not fit for showing remains either unwritten or private - until the situation changes; I expect I am now, probably, a bit freer to write about my mom.
In this instance, these two - I will call them Incidents - in my final week before returning to work had several elements in common. First, they were both quite unlikely - meaning both 1) things of this type rarely happen to me and 2) I've been in similar circumstances before where nothing at all happened - like playing the slots: I rarely win a lot, and I've never won big. I wasn't looking for an Incident in these arenas, in other words. Secondly, both Incidents came about - and this is what I want to talk about - because there was an opportunity that I identified, considered, decided upon and then - here's the essential part - took action. If you are anything like me, you can do the first one, two or three in that list all the time, but the taking action part? That's the rub, that's the trouble, that's the building that most of us never ever climb to the top of. Because taking action is the hard part - it's the last final step to take, like hitting "send." Now, the thing that was in your head (or heart, dreams, etc) is finally leaving the Realm of You and heading out into Reality, where everyone can see it and know you did it.
Taking action - whether it pans out or not - is always a great relief for me, since it's always been a great fear of mine that I will fail to act, either chronically or at some critical moment. You know that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, "Tapestry"? The story in brief: Picard's artificial heart fails, and then that rapscallion omniscient annoying superbeing Q takes Jean-Luc Picard back in time to change his own history so that he was never stabbed in the heart during a bar fight and realized how fragile life is and therefore never took risks to advance his life, including his career. Q flashes Picard forward to his present day, where Picard the adult is, I believe, now a junior lieutenant, living an insipid life - banal, pedestrian. Picard is so horrified, he asks for his own timeline back, even if it means death, though obviously it all works out just fine.
When I first saw that episode, I was terrified. Is that me? Is that going to be me, I thought. Only time will tell, though at this point, that episode aired long enough ago so that plenty of time has passed for me to be able to somewhat tell how I am doing in life in that department - the taking actions department. Am I taking risks? Some. I'm not, you know, skydiving (not interested, actually - I do not tend toward adrenaline desires) and I'm not relentlessly climbing the corporate ladder (I'm not a junior lieutenant but not a captain either, which I don't want to be) but in many ways, I do throw my hat into the ring regularly.
The ways in which I am bold aren't always dramatic. Sometimes, I say things that others might not say or do what they might not - such as dancing or singing in public when that's not meant to be the main activity. I might have a so-called radical point of of view - such as abolishing capital or schools without tests - that I will advance in unsympathetic company. Or I step into the center of that circle of singers and open my mouth to sing without having any idea at all of what is about to happen. Occasionally, I am in a state of grace, more or less, and can forgive great wrongs; I'm often the first to say I love you.
"Audentes fortuna iuvat" is the Latin phrase: Fortune favors the bold. It can also be translated as "Fortune helps the brave" or "Fortune favors the strong." To boldly go, that other Star Trek captain said. All of those work for me. Fear seems to be the big emotion that humans have to deal with on planet earth, so being bold is this big deal - it's what, in many ways, we are here to do. It's not easy to be bold, and one is not always rewarded. It doesn't always come to fruition, our desires. Plans go awry. Gestures are misinterpreted and presentations fall flat. The high note from the bathroom shower just doesn't seem to be there on stage.
But sometimes - ah, sometimes, you can hit that note. These last two Incidents were like that - there was this little chance, this sliver of possibility, all wrapped up in risk and danger, but tantalizing. What if, the daydreaming brain starts to spin our scenarios; the nighttime brain connects even deeper with the heart and spirit and dishes up even juicier narratives, prodding the body along - go ahead, it all says, take action. Be bold. The Universe will come to your aid.
I hope something happens to you.
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