We go through life oblivious to so much — correction, “I” go through life oblivious to so much.
This is not intentional, no matter how true. Robin asked me to write a blog post and then she demanded that I pair it with some music. The writing part is a good mental and emotional workout; however, it was the “pairing” part that awakened me to my oblivion. I started thinking about favorite songs, and then favorite anything (books, movies, people, vacations, foods …) Needless to say, my monkey mind kicked into full gear and now I’m thinking about everything.
I am writing this in the first person yet trying not to assume “we” all have my problem(s). This gives me some time to think about songs written around “oblivion.” (I’m also considering just writing one myself as I do not want to upset Robin and get my assignment returned as “incomplete.”)
In order to find my favorite songs (that I can’t remember), I did what we all do and employed Google. I quickly realized that I have at least a gazillion. Some of them are really cool and some could get me publicly ridiculed (or even beaten up. Most people don’t know about my sensitive side. Despite my tough guy persona.)
As I found songs that brought back memories I quickly realized two things: I don’t know most lyrics when singing and when I do get them right, I often don’t know what they mean.
I’m a Walrus, Cracklin’ Rosie and Go Your Own Way, to name a few. Also, did you know that words in Blinded By the Light are actually “Revved up like a deuce” and not about feminine products?
I guess I’m out of small talk and now I need to get vulnerable because this is a blog post and that’s what bloggers do.
Back to my point on life and oblivion (yes, I just added “life”), I have spent the last chunk of my life in some form of oblivion. I embarked on some personal choices and the consequences unfortunately culminated in my divorce.
I spent a ridiculous amount of time in damage control (which, in my case, might be more aptly described as “controlling people”) lying, and spinning reality. I did all of this out of fear. Strangely, I often didn’t even know I was doing it. If these were classes in school, about making good choices, I would have received “Fs” across the board.My choices directly affected my spouse and my children. I made choices that “had” clear consequences and I was of sound mind when they were made. I also made choices for others, unknowingly to them. Life was going to happen and at the end of the day it will be all right, but I just couldn’t see that when I was immersed in oblivion.
Yesterday marked the seven year anniversary of my Mom’s death. Her name was Mimi and she was a remarkable mother, person and friend. Even I called her Mimi (unless she was in trouble, and then I called her Mom). She was a huge influence on me and known for her signature features of very cold Miller Lite beer and bright red lipstick, always. In addition to beer and lipstick, Mimi placed a premium on family, hospitality, and God. My “personal choices” were the result of Mom’s untimely death — and as such, I appropriately place the blame on her.
I’m kidding, of course.
I accept full responsibility for my choices; however, I am pissed at Mimi for not being here. I most likely would have made all of the initial “personal choices” I did, although Mimi would not have allowed me to wallow in oblivion for so damn long. Mimi would have been direct with me and in turn made me be direct with myself and others. Listening to Mimi would not have been easy — the truth seldom is. I would have known that Mimi was right, because she usually was in these types of things. All I had to do was heed her advice. Mimi would have made me understand the lyrics to my song.
Don’t misunderstand me, Mimi did not hand out the “get out of jail” cards freely, to anyone, ever. Through the gift of well placed Catholic guilt and long periods of silence on a severely stern face, she got your attention. Her job was not to make you feel good about poor decisions but to let you know she’s here for you and loves you very much, in spite of the awful fear you were feeling. Going to the Mimi “prayer rug” in times of self induced problems was an awful experience, yet when it was over, it was like a great confession, you felt it was gonna be all right. After all was said and done, she had no patience for a pity party either; its done let’s move on.
As I made my “personal choices,” I clearly thought it was a better plan to make decisions for other people rather than be direct and let them make their own choices. It was like playing a game of chess and telling people they were playing Monopoly with poker chips. It made no sense. Consequently, my oblivion hurt a lot of people whom I love — still love. My oblivion wasted lots of good stuff. My oblivion kept me in the dark, and nothing good grows in the dark. I was operating out of guilt and shame with a good measure of control. I could not think that everything was going to be all right.
The unfortunate part to all of this is how the oblivion keeps you in oblivion — oops, kept me in oblivion. It does not happen overnight and there is no discreet point where one admits it and makes a change. As I tried to manage the reality of people around me, I became thoughtless and reactive. I did not accept that I could only control myself. I worked full-time in this unpaid position as so many good things in my life lost their joy. I just had to keep moving and keep talking, I couldn’t slow down.
Did I mention when in doubt about yourself go ahead and blame others? It works! (For about a second.)
To my credit, I was an equal opportunity jackass. In the aggregate, everyone received a good share of my poor choices. Is that credit-worthy? I have offered apologies to many people during this period of “oblivion.” Some people actually received repeated apologies because I was not always direct about the initial 10+ apologies (you know who you are). I still have a few more to offer and I’ll get to them.
Life continues to move on and my oblivion is slowly turning to clarity on the way to complete mindfulness. What I had viewed as being “selfless” actually ended up being rather selfish to many. I’m now finding a balance with “appropriate selfishness.” I’m working my way back to the Frederick I used to be and with that comes fun, hard work, humor, kindness and lots of other good stuff.
Today, though I’m a few years behind on my life plan (haha), I have a much better understanding of who I am and where I want to go, at least for today. I’m not spending any more time on drama because I’m completely cool with not agreeing with others or others not agreeing with me. It’s not that I don’t care, because I do, it’s just that drama exhausts me so I must step aside. I have also become aware of being judgmental, and have stopped mostly. I still have opinions, but they are just mine. It’s funny how many things I just don’t feel that strong about anymore. I just need to stay grateful.
I have some relationships I still need to mend and grow, and some I need to jettison. Time is precious and I’m spending it with people who matter to me — people who add to my life and are not “completely” oblivious (you know who you are.) I also need to have people in my life who can forgive me when I make a mistake and move on and I promise to do the same.
I don’t worry, like Bob Marley and his Three Little Birds, ‘bout a thing, “‘cause every little thing/gonna be all right.”