Self-Righteous Douchebaggery

I am guilty of doing what I hate.
Judging.  Self-righteous thought.  Being a hypocritical douche bag.
I fall into this little trap a lot, I think.  Being a self-proclaimed "raised Catholic" person, I tend to project those feelings onto Christians as a whole.  I hate that I do it and I apologize.  I have found a path that veers off from the religion that raised me and I think that I look back with some disdain.  Perhaps there are feelings of betrayal and disappointment that bring these thoughts to the surface.  I am disappointed in Christianity for not giving me what it seemed to promise.
Answers.
I took physics in High School because I thought it would give me answers to things like "how does gravity work."  It didn't.  It gave me a bunch of numbers and equations that, to me, were nothing more than numbers and equations.  My mind doesn't easily work that way.  That doesn't mean that physics doesn't provide answers, it means that it didn't provide answers in a way that made sense to me.
In the same sense, Catholicism failed me.  Yes, I realize the pompousness of that statement.  At the time that I began to turn away from the church, that is how I felt.  I know differently now.
For nearly 13 years I was a solid Catholic boy.  I went to a Catholic school where I was an altar boy.  I read the bible cover to cover multiple times.  I prayed at night.  I asked God for strength and prayed the rosary.  I believed.  I had one day of anxiety and doubt and I needed guidance, I needed God.  I rode my bike to the church hoping to sit and listen to whatever message he chose to give.  Reaching for the door to my salvation and it was locked.  I was crushed and angry.  I couldn't get in to the one place I had been told I could really talk to God.  Even though it wasn't his fault, I blamed him.  How could he lock me out? 
The next time I went to church, I looked around at all the people praying.  I could hear the drone of the voices as they followed the instructions of the priest like robots.  How many of them believed what they were saying?  How many would go home feeling better while they proceeded to sin all over again?  And so it went.
I began to try and find my own answers.
For me, Christianity has not been one.  Perhaps it is because I am not open to it.  Perhaps our minds accept answers that we want to find.  We stumble upon a book that on Monday we would not have taken a second glance at, but on Tuesday we are in the state of mind that makes us curious.  So, I have come to a pseudo-conclusion that there are no right answers.  Assuming this statement is true, than what the hell makes my truths any better than anyone else?
So, as I read about Christian groups attempting to use religion to enforce their beliefs and politics on others, I struggle.  I struggle because I know that what I believe is not what everyone else believes.  What I believe is not better than what anyone else believes.  I judge the news-worthy Christians condemning gays and lesbians to lives of inequality.  I self-righteously believe that I am better than Rush Limbaugh because I feel he is ignorant.  I am hypocritical because I do the same things to those people that they are doing to others.
I am no better than they.  They are no better than I.
It really is a struggle for a couple of reasons.  One - not all Christians are like that.  I am judging the group based on a few people and it is difficult to see the trees amongst the forest.  I have a feeling that most of the people who use the religion to pass judgement are not really all that Christian.  Two - I am in no position to see myself as better than anyone else, yet I feel like I judge them in order to make myself feel better about my choices.  It is a source of validation to see that the Buddhist thoughts that I am reading are enlightening and full of hope while the words or these Christians are negative and hateful.  It helps me feel like I am making the right choice.  I use my new beliefs incorrectly.  Instead of just using them to lift my own spirit, I am guilty of using them to justify my prejudice.  That is not right. 

Maybe that is why people judge others.  We need to look down on people to raise ourselves up in our own eyes.  Are we all really that self-doubting?
It seems like I am.

So, how does one change that?

I suppose it involves believing in oneself, confidence in what you are striving for and a realization of modesty and humility.
The question then becomes, how does one get those things?

A Vanity Thing

It has been a long running joke that I am constantly checking myself in mirrors.  I have to laugh, because it is true.  I am very self conscious of my outward appearance and it is a source of some stress for me.  As of late I have been thinking about my body image a bit more often than normal.  I am in a show coming up where I will be half naked on stage....in front of an audience.....under lights and scrutiny.  I have been working my ass off, almost literally, to put myself into a shape that I won't be embarrassed of.  In mentioning this to a friend of mine (who is 6'7", 375 and has always been a big dude), I got a dose of reality.  When I told him that I was doing P90X so I could be confident on stage he laughed and said, "oh, it's a vanity thing."  I had no response because I knew he was right and that vanity and being conscious were not issues for him.
He has never had body image issues and he is always been a large mammal, in his words.  There is a self confidence that resides in him that is largely unshakable.  It is as solid as it is because it comes from within him.  He doesn't base his self-esteem on what other people think.  He is a rare case, I think.  His confidence is something that I strive for, but will only hope to achieve by letting go of a lot of years of conditioning.


We tend to judge ourselves much more harshly than others do.  We hold on to this image that is presented to us as an ideal image.  It is not inborn.  It is not our image of ourselves, it is some sort of strange figure that is shoved in our faces on a daily basis.  How many times have we seen a little kid running naked, escaping the hands of their parents who are desperately trying to get them into a diaper or pajamas?  When we are young and naive we don't care about our bodies and what people think of them.  Running around naked is awesome when you are a kid.  If you try it as you get older, it becomes less awesome unless you are a nudist.  Too often we are not comfortable in our own skin.  Too often we are ashamed.
Shame is not inborn.  It is conditioned.  It is set on us, first, by our parents - who got it from their parents who got it from their parents and on and on.  I believe that some of this comes from social mores that were enforced by religion, perhaps.  I don't have proof of this, but I always think about Adam and Eve and the image of them in fig leaves because they shamed themselves in front of God.  It seems that, even in the bible, our body image issues are our own doing and nudity was supposed to be our natural state.
So, we cover ourselves up.  We hide behind style and designers.  We attempt to reach some stupid ideal by dieting and working out.  We hope that the clothes and the muscles will make us palatable to the people around us.  But we don't find happiness this way.  We don't really find confidence.  We continue to stare at ourselves in the mirror each day to make sure our self image stays intact.  This scrutiny of our bodies is based on a bar set by people we may never meet.  This image is further perpetrated by those around us, but not by the people that really matter.  Coworkers, people in the store, some dude or chick on the street, and the worst offender of all, us...these people judge us.  The people who really care about us don't care how we look.  So why do we hold on to this esteem defacing concept that tears us down every day?
I really wish I had an answer.
I refer back to my friend, who I will call Tiny because it is obviously ironic.
Tiny wears sweatshirts, t-shirts, ripped jeans, hats, shorts and whatever else is comfortable.  His comfort is more important than what someone thinks about the holes in his jeans.  The amazing thing is, people are drawn to him, not because of his appearance but because of who he is and the confidence and personality that oozes off of him.  He has dated and "dated" women that you wouldn't think would be interested in him.  They like him because he is kind and generous and sure of himself.  Guys like him because he is funny, confident and loyal.  It seems that, despite the fact that the ads that tell us otherwise, people are drawn to personality more than appearance.
We dress a certain way and try to look a certain way and when it all comes together just right we are confident.  It is that that attracts people.  It isn't the clothes or the hair, it is the confidence that gets the girl or boy.  Sure, someone may comment on the shirt or shoes, but it is the personality that will keep them around.  It is also that confidence that will help find happiness because, like true confidence, true happiness comes from inside.  How often do you meet a physically beautiful person only to find that they are vapid and uninteresting?


So, my challenge is to find confidence inside.  In many ways, I do have it.  When it comes to my body, I don't.  How do I get it?  How does anyone?
With all of the Buddhist philosophy I am reading, it seems that the answer lies in letting go.  Let go of the image.  Let go of the idea that the body is the most important thing.  Let go of the idea that the opinion of others is happiness.  Happiness comes from within and that happiness comes from clarity of mind, not from ripped abs.  I suppose the thousands of years that Buddhists have displayed this is proof enough that it works.  It is the years of modern conditioning that is a mountain to climb.  

One thing I do know is that I like to work out and I like to run, not because I will be an Adonis, but because I like the energy that I get from having a healthy body.  Buddha did say that to have a healthy mind, it is important to have a healthy body.  The struggle I now face is examining the outward desire to be fit so that I might let it go and focus on the inward benefits.  Maybe I will be able to get past my hang-ups and my self-confidence issues before I am on stage.  If not, being on stage might force me to get over it in a quick way.

Fear, My Master

What is fear?

The crushing feeling that stomps you down upon the imagining of any feat greater than the daily routine. 
It is the voice in your left ear telling you about failure and embarrassment. 
It is the stop sign in the desert. 
It is the way we are controlled and prodded and convinced, the Goliath we can't see but know is out there waiting should we stray from what are approved of path.  It is god and dogma. 
It lies in our dreams to show us the shadows that lie hidden in the folds of our right brain. 
It is the maker of laws and the starter of wars. 
It is the loaded gun in a family man's night stand, the motivation to kill, the seed of hate. 
It is ignorance.  It is prejudice. 
It locks us in our houses when we should be out in the world, keeps our hands in our pockets when it should be extended, keeps our money hidden instead of in the hands of needy. 
It is alcoholism and drug abuse. 
It is the roots in our feet that keep us from traveling and experiencing.  It is the closed mouth that hides words of love. 
It is a shield and a sword.  It promotes violence and stamps out compassion.  It is silence when voices are needed. 


Fear is what keeps us from achieving anything.  It is our abusive relationship telling us we are not good enough.  It is the the kick that breaks our ribs when we try to stand, the gag and the blindfold. 
Fear is the shadows and the unseen.  It is the reminder to stay still and hide in our blankets. 

When fear rears its head from the depths, when we are not fighting for our lives, it is death. Fear has become a yoke of oppression that we harness upon ourselves and others.  As animals, fear can save.  As humans, fear only seems to destroy. 

Fear is the cloud that is keeping us from seeing the blue sky. 

Left Handed Wandering

It is a struggle to maintain this new state of mind.  It seems that building the habit of living in the world and not in my head is not as easy as keeping it up for two weeks (which I hear is the amount of time a person needs to make something a habit).  I slip and I fall and I don't always catch myself soon enough.  The reminder to knock it off is often too subtle when the fog begins rolling in.
It is a strange thing, catching yourself mid fall, realizing that you have lost touch with what you have been struggling to find.  I caught myself last week in the middle of a work out.  I was struggling more than usual and began to give up, to let the devil on my left shoulder talk me down.  I began to curse myself and to get angry; this, I believe, is the start of a vicious cycle of defeat.  The realization of what I was doing was like a shot to the head and I looked back over the day and found that I had begun to climb back into the closet of my mind where I used to live in the dark to dream of things instead of living them.  The return had been taking place over a couple of days.  But, I caught it.  For this I am happy and proud.
I sat down and paused the workout for a minute while I got my head out of my ass.  After the rest, I still struggled, but it was more physical and less mental.  It was good.
Now I struggle with finding the source of my loosening grip on my new mind.  I know, however, that I need to continue to move forward, though.  Finding the balance between progress and recognizing where I lost my grip is important.  So, I read.  I read the Big Happy Buddha blog and read the Dalai Lama's words and continue to find strength in those things.  Thankfully, the weather has been warm.
The sunshine always helps. 

I have also discovered some of the lectures of Joseph Campbell to watch.  He introduced me to the idea of the Left Hand Path, or the path that leads away from the "normal" way of living.  I have begun to wonder if I struggle because I lean toward that way of living.  It is hard to stray from what everyone else is doing and I don't know that I am some kind of rebel or anything, but I know that I do things differently from those I have grown up with, from my family.  In doing things in my way, I don't end up on the same time line as the people around me.  I think this leads to a feeling of not quite fitting in.  It's not a bad thing, as long as I can accept that.
I am not Christian.  I don't watch sports.  I don't have kids.  I am not married.  I tend to be liberal minded.  These are some of the things that separate me from my long time friends.  But even as I make this list, I realize that I am separating myself from those around me.  By saying I walk a different path is saying that I am different from other people.
I am different.
But I am forgetting all of the similarities and those are what bring people together.

I am enjoying this ride towards wherever it is I am heading.  I enjoy it when I see the mistakes I make and I can find a way to change.  It is always interesting seeing what I am doing, almost from the outside.  I hope I am doing it right and that this weird sort of clarity will continue to open up in front of me.
Maybe I just need to write more.  I always seem to learn something.

Acting After Thinking

Today I caught myself in the middle of considering falling into a bad habit - doing something that I know makes me angry. 
For a long time I listened to Pandora radio.  It is a great site for anyone who likes music.  However, there are message boards for commenting on the bands you love, and don't love.  I would go to the board for Tool and argue with people about their opinions on their music.  In the end, I had to stop because fighting the web trolls had ruined the site for me.  I had allowed it to make something great into something that caused me some stress.  I know it sounds silly, and it is, but it is the fact that I found myself logging on today to see what was on the message board.  I knew full well that I might end up angry and frustrated, but I did it anyway.  

I have done this a lot in my life, I think, doing things that I knew would cause me distress just to do them.  I would sabotage my own peace. 
How often do we do this? 
Why do we do it?

I think it became habit for me.  At some point, the negativity was the norm and I didn't even recognize what I was doing.  When I opened my eyes, I was amazed at how often I did it.  With today as an example, I still do.  I am happy that I have become conscious of it, but I find that knowing that I do it has brought some struggle as well. 
For a while I would try and read Her blog.  I don't really know why I did it, though I had enough excuses for anyone who would ask.  The honest answer is that it was a taste of the drug.  It was a momentary high that usually led to an immediate crash.  I knew that I if I read it, I would end up upset.  I did it anyway.  Then I recognized that I was doing it and why I was doing it.  I stopped lying to myself about it and admitted to my therapist my reasons.  I found that admitting it to myself and to someone else helped.  I can't remember the last time I read that blog. 
Looking back at other things I have done, I can't help but see a pattern of self destructive behavior for a large portion of my life.  I think it was a cycle.  I would feel crappy about myself because I had done something stupid, so I needed the rush of doing something else which would lead to more self defacing and on and on.  I became addicted to the cycle.

I heard a comedian make a joke that there is no such thing as addiction.  He said that there are chemical and physical addictions to drugs and the like, but you can get treatment to get past that.  Without the physical need, addiction is a choice.  He has a point, if delivered in a somewhat unsavory manner.  I have been addicted to feeling badly.  But that addiction was a choice.  I made the choice to do what I did and until I recognized what I was doing, it was not going to stop. 
It is very likely that this had a large part in my divorce. 
It also took that event and the storm of events that followed to make me see it.  Now that I know I do it I can stop myself, but there is always this silent longing to act first and think later about the consequences.  I struggle with that, but I can't help but to believe that that momentary pining is so much better than the maelstrom that could follow if I gave in. 

Being mindful of my actions is what I am working on.  The things we do affects us as well as others, so if we do something stupid, we will suffer the consequences too.  Acting after thinking.  I believe it is important. 

Struggling With Compassion

I am struggling with compassion this morning and it is really bugging me.
I am attending a rally to support the family of one of the kids killed at a school shooting and to prevent a hate group's protests from reaching that family.  I want to hate this group.  I want to judge them.  I want to pull a gun on them.  I want to bomb their church with all of them in it.  But I know that this is the opposite of what I should do, and what I will do.  I just don't understand the hate and ignorance.
The group touts themselves as Christian, yet they do not show the basic tenets of Christianity.  I think a great deal of my struggle comes from not understanding these people and their motivations.  How can one live with so much hate and anger that the only way to feel better is to take it out on the grieving?  Then the rational mind speaks up and says, "what if these people aren't even religious?  What if they are just using it as a scapegoat for their prejudice and bigotry?  What if they are using it for attention?"  Then I just get sad.
I believe religion can be a beautiful thing that brings people together to worship and live lives full of the positive beliefs that most dogmas contain, at their most basic anyway.  I am sad that people use it to justify their prejudice and hate.  I wonder if most of the members of this "church" aren't just good people who were lost and needed someone to show them a way to live.  That someone just happened to be a person overflowing with those things that bring us to our darker selves.  So what do I do?  What can I do?

I have moments of self-righteousness.  I have found solace and some peace in the words of the Dalai Lama and the Buddha.  For me those things work and I believe that the messages of compassion, selflessness, love, mindfulness, tolerance, etc. are the truth.  When I feel that strongly about something, I have a hard time believing that it is not right.....
And that is my answer.
When I believe something very strongly, I have a hard time believing it is not right.  I am not the only person that feels this way.  It would be my guess that some of the people that tout messages of hate and intolerance believe that they are right.  Their method of getting that message across is different from mine, but is essentially the same thing.  Those people, like all living things, only want to be happy.  The path they have chosen is the path they believe to be the correct one.  The path I have chosen is the one I believe is right.  When it comes down to it, we are the same.
I have a hard time, however, believing that they are happy.  Living with such ugly emotions makes it very hard to be truly at peace.  Like the Dalai Lama XIV said, "“I believe compassion to be one of the few things we can practice that will bring immediate and long-term happiness to our lives. I’m not talking about the short-term gratification of pleasures like sex, drugs or gambling (though I’m not knocking them), but something that will bring true and lasting happiness. The kind that sticks.”  Those moments that we do something for someone else with nothing more than compassion to motivate us are the times we feel really good.  I use "we", though I only know how it feels for me.  I believe that I am not the only one. 
The more strongly I begin to feel that compassion and love are the correct path (both of which are basic guidelines in the major religions) the more I struggle with the world and with groups like this one.  It is confusing and frustrating.  But, it is in these challenging moments that we can learn and strengthen our own compassion.  Perhaps that is their purpose. 

I have a feeling that I will struggle with this for quite some time, especially if these people show up tomorrow.  If I can learn anything about myself, at least that will be positive.  One thing I can say about this group is that they have been successful at bringing people together against their protests.  They are inadvertently teaching compassion.

Shrugging Off Burdens

The realization that dawned upon me today is that I have found my happiness again.  It has taken some time, but just like everyone told me it would, it got better.  The lightness to my thoughts, the smile I sometimes find upon my face, the colors in the world again are all brilliant.  It would be a lie to say that there aren't moments or flashes of the sadder spectrum of emotion.  I don't think that the eradication of those is as simple as just hoping they go away.  The work to move them out from center stage has been started, and though they sit on the wings, they no longer have a starring role. 
It feels good. 
It's funny the places we realize things, sometimes.  It was while listening to Banana Pancakes and I remembered my ex-wife liked that song and she had her own version of the chorus.  I smiled.  My heart didn't fall into the pit that was so prevalent for far too long.  My day is not ruined.  The memory is a fond one.  I guess that means I am moving on, finally. 
It feels good.
I can't pretend that I wouldn't change the way things happened, but I have been brought to this place and I feel good.  It is something I haven't felt in a very long while.  Even before I was married.  I look back from the edge of this green, flowered field spread out before me and I can see the desert I was wandering.  I can see the footprints still dark in the dust that lead from where I was.  I wonder if the journeys we take are our choice or if they are planned out for us, to show us something.  Or do we truly make our own paths and face the riddles that life gives us the best we can, hopefully learning something?  I don't know.  I don't know that I even care all that much.  There is little chance of that revelation occurring in my lifetime and there are so many other things to occupy my erratically dancing mind that dwelling on that mystery would do little save slowing me down. 
I had a talk with my mom a few days ago and I said something that I have found myself saying quite often as of late. 
Once you have had a moment, it is already gone. 
There is no way to change the moments of the past and there is little we can do to predict the ones on the road ahead of us.  Those in the past have made their mark and are as easy to hold on to as a pleasant breeze.  Those in the future have yet to be made.  The moments we have in our grasp, no matter how short they last, those are the ones that matter.  I am doing my best to embrace my own tidbit of wisdom, if that is what it is.  In doing this I feel like I have taken a load from my shoulders and set it down.  I can see it sitting in the road behind me, too heavy to blow away which makes me wonder at the impact it must have had on my daily psyche. 
I don't delude myself into believing that every moment that is coming will be full of sunshine.  But when I look at those moments as chances to challenge myself and to grow, they don't seem so daunting.  So, I let them go.  I don't even know what they are yet.  Why worry about them? 

I am still a child.  I still have a lot to learn and don't pretend that I know anything, not anymore.  If anything that I have said here were to be proven untrue, I would rethink it and try again.  The beauty of being a child is that the idea of things being permanent or absolute is not written in stone yet.  I like being a child in this way.