Friday, December 14, 2018

The Worst That Could Happen



Somewhere the other day an interesting (and familiar) quote came floating into the tiny sphere of my consciousness. It caught my attention in that fleeting instant, but when I returned after whatever distraction led elsewhere, I couldn’t find it, its author or even any mention of it via a fairly thorough rev-up of my go-to search engine. 

With that pathetic apology as pretext, following is the gist of the quotation.

“The worst that could happen is NOT the worst that could happen. The worst that could happen is that you fail to forgive and forget the worst that could happen.”

Whoa. I like.

Not needing to bore you today with examples from the many times I have attempted to talk myself off the ledge of overwhelming guilt, let us simply say that to this very day, I suffer from humiliation, remorse and an absolute desire to be free of all associated negative effects from the dirty deeds I have done (and yes, some done dirt cheap.) 

To be fair in the ex post facto ramification, I have spent appropriate and considerable time in repentance. I think the judge assigned to this not-quite landmark case would quickly let me off the hook for time served (it has been 50 years) but it is not the judge, or even the jury of my peers whose absolution I seek. It is my own.

This haunts me. A relentless haunting. In the vivid and convoluted dream that took place just this morning - as I tried to eek out the last hour of my allotted sleep in deep REM - I woke in shock as the surreal circumstance forced a ‘what the fuck were you thinking?’ response. So here I am, I respond, assessing, judging and second-guessing my own actions as they take place in real-time, dream state sub consciousness. YIKES! Let me attempt to put this another way: I am watching myself as an actor through the eyes of the writer and director, as the scene is unfolding. 

As much as I want to scream CUT and suggest more sincerity, honesty and authenticity from the protagonist, it is oddly fascinating to watch this poor slob of a B grade actor struggle through the scene. I suppose we want him to win, find salvation or at the very least learn a valuable lesson, but remembering that he is me, all bets are off as I begin to understand and then acknowledge that I am controlling both the actor and the action. I am responsible for the script as well as the presentation, through completion, and the ultimate resolution. In other words, I see that I am responsible for the success of the scene AS WELL AS THE ENDING of the - MY - film. 

If it is to be it is up to me. I do a quick re-write and ask for quiet on the set. 

I am urging him to let go of the baggage keeping him from peace of mind. To cut the chains that hold him from his freedom and joy. As writer and director I remind him once again that the ultimate success of his abilities, talents and desire to inspire, are all dependent on his purity of heart and sincerity of spirit. LET THAT SHIT GO. Take the lesson and leave the rest. Your dues have been paid. You are free. Free to act the part of the hero, the star, the embodiment of goodness and strength, the one who will (eventually) triumph over the evil of the day. 

Good. Or at least better. I wake refreshed and ready. With a new spin to consider. 

Living happily ever after requires the wisdom to see that the worst that could happen is not the worst that could happen. 

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